Stripped

by Tori St. Claire

  Brandon must have observed Sergei’s pointed stare, because he looked right at her as he answered, “Imagine that.”

  Backed into a corner, the sudden need to defend herself from these two men stiffened her spine. She opened her mouth to object. But what to say? She didn’t have any appropriate defenses. None that Brandon could learn anyway. Tell him she’d spoiled her partner’s morning because she was sore about spending the night alone? Right. That’d only lead to why she’d forced Brandon away.

  She snapped her mouth shut and folded her arms over her breasts. Frowning at the both of them, she chose instead to answer his question. This time though, as her response slid up her throat, shock squelched it. She looked once more at Brandon. At Sergei. Sitting this close to one another in the broad daylight, similarities jumped in front of her face. Their foreheads possessed the same identical slope. Their eyes bore the same bright spark of humor, their unique color of molten gold as the sunlight kissed them.

  She quickly inspected the rest of their bodies for likenesses. Brandon was slightly taller than Sergei, and Sergei’s shoulders were slightly wider than Brandon’s. Their build wasn’t identical, but close enough to bear resemblance. Right down to the same way Sergei sat forward, leaned his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together. Their hands had the same rough, strong build and identical long fingers.

  Sergei’s voice echoed dully in her head. Angelo ordered the murder of his family. I know him so well I’d swear on my life. I grew up with him.

  Holy shit!

  No wonder Sergei balked every time she’d mentioned his working at the club. No wonder he’d been incensed about her involvement with Brandon. He’d never particularly given a damn who she slept with, why or where until now… because he was looking out for his brother.

  Her gaze jumped back to Sergei. She cocked her head, mentally cutting off his unruly long hair and dressing him in Brandon’s clothes. They fit perfectly, the familial resemblance unmistakable.

  His grimace confirmed everything.

  Hurt stabbed through her. Why hadn’t he trusted her with his secret? Because of Dmitri? Or because he’d become so wary of every human being he encountered, that in some corner of his mind, he genuinely didn’t trust her?

  Like someone dropped a boulder onto Natalya’s chest, the full realization of their circumstances shortened her breath. What had they become, she and Sergei? They couldn’t be human. Not anymore. Human beings weren’t designed to analyze everything upside down and crosswise. They were supposed to feel. To live. To know laughter as well as they knew sorrow, and while she and her partner might find humor easily enough, they blocked out the rest of the emotions.

  They didn’t trust a damn soul. Not even the people they not only spent three-quarters of their time with, but also those who were supposed to be true friends. Those willing to take a bullet for the other.

  She was the worst of the pair. Sergei might have killed people without a second thought, but he’d never deliberately led innocent victims to their grave. She’d abused every bit of trust given to her, manipulated it to an advantage she justified as national security, and while she could weep over her own circumstances, she couldn’t find a damn tear for any of those women.

  Not even her sister.

  She couldn’t live like this anymore. Couldn’t lie like this. Not to others. Not to herself.

  The large front room suddenly became stifling. Brandon was too close. Sergei too distant. Needing escape, she stood. “I think I’m going to go run some more.”

  “Things to work out, huh?”

  Brandon’s quiet question stopped her hasty escape. She halted at the door, trapped by his knowing stare. Holding his gaze for a heartbeat, she implored him not to push. Begged him to just let her walk away from this, from him, before he pulled out every emotion she didn’t know she possessed and broke her into pieces.

  When she didn’t answer, Brandon’s full lips curved with a faint, hesitant smile. “I could use a jog myself.”

  Shivers coursed up and down her spine so violently she had to close her eyes to find the ability to breathe. Her grip tightened on the doorknob she had yet to turn. She looked to Sergei, silently beseeching his help.

  Instead of the stoic strength she needed, his expression tossed her insides upside down. While his features remained motionless, the tightness of his jaw indicated a hint to his own inner turmoil, and his eyes filled with silent apology. For his harsh words the night before. For his failure to share his confidences.

  A resigned sigh brought her partner to his feet. He shoved a hand through his long hair, then stuffed both in his back pockets. Agitated—when he couldn’t use his hands to work out something, he hid them away. “Kate said on the way home last night, you were taking Derek to feed the cubs at MGM, Brandon. Still on for that?”

  “Yeah. He likes Rainforest—thought we’d stop there for lunch. Then I’ll take him to Sue’s.”

  Conversation resumed, Natalya turned the knob, intent on leaving.

  “Have you seen the lions, Natalya?” Sergei asked.

  The suggestion hung in the air, mixing up her mind even more. But despite her riotous thoughts, she recognized what he didn’t say. He was giving her back his trust. Or maybe giving it for the first time. He was trusting her to navigate this minefield with his brother.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Brandon asked. “I’m sure Derek wouldn’t mind.”

  A full afternoon with both her nephew and the man she couldn’t get enough of. Her blood warmed, filling her ears with a pleasant buzz. Kate though—Kate didn’t want her around Derek. She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  In a surprising display of his usual good humor, Sergei, who she depended on for solidity, chuckled. “I think it’s a great idea if it keeps you out of my condo the rest of the afternoon.” He moved to the hall. “I think I’ll help Kate.”

  Sergei was gone before Natalya could squeak out another protest, leaving her very much aware that she was alone with Brandon.

  Brandon stood and wordlessly crossed the three feet between the couch and the front door. She instinctively retreated. Her back flattened against the closed exit. As panic swelled, she furiously tried to turn the knob again.

  Brandon reached under her elbow and flipped the deadbolt. He braced his other hand on the wood above her shoulder and leaned in close. Heat rolled off his chest in waves, washing over her, filling her breasts with a heavy weight, and making the downy hairs on her belly stand on end.

  He traced a knuckle over the curve of her jaw, beneath her earlobe. His fingers slid into the gathered hair at the base of her ponytail, and gentle pressure from his hand guided her off the door, into the sweltering heat of his body. She closed her eyes as her breasts pressed against his chest. A soft gasp slipped off her lips.

  The sound faded under the featherlight touch of his mouth as he dusted it over hers. “I dreamed about you.”

  Natalya shivered, unable to find words.

  “I dream about you every night.” His lips captured hers, soft and pliant, warm and intoxicating. “The things I want to do to you.” The tip of his tongue slid along the seam of her mouth, nudged her lips apart. “Feel with you.” At the back of her head, his fingers tightened. “You make me crazy, Natalya. Fucking crazy.”

  His tongue touched hers, and her resistance shattered. She lifted to her toes, her arms sliding around his neck, welcoming his kiss. Rich masculine flavor soaked into her veins, stirring the warmth in her blood to intolerable levels. The slow, languorous slide of his tongue against hers lacked the passionate demands of his kisses the previous night, but they stripped her bare just as quickly. Maybe even quicker.

  He dropped his hand from the door to her hip, but he didn’t haul her in close. The bite of his fingers evidenced the desire to, but he held back, treating her to the singular ecstasy of his mouth. Her heart slammed wildly against her ribs, hammering so hard he must have felt it. Remembrances of the perfect way
his body molded into hers filled her head with vivid pictures. He’d felt good then, his cock buried deep inside her, his fingers pressing against her swollen clit. But this… this was heaven on earth. His strength supported her weak legs; the taste of him made her dizzy. He surrounded her, body and soul.

  She curled her nails into his shoulder and gave in to a low, pleasurable moan.

  His chest vibrated with a similar sound, and then he was gone, his moist breath scraping over the side of her face before his cheek grazed hers and he leaned away. The pressure in his hands relaxed.

  Hoarse and thick, his voice scraped pleasantly. “You can shut the door in my face, but I have the key.” Slowly, deliberately, he pressed his hips into hers. His hardened cock teased her pussy with unspoken promises of ecstasy. “Let me in, Natalya. Come with us today.”

  She searched his face, taking in the smoldering burn in his tawny eyes, the honesty of his unabashed desire. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I think I do.” He touched his lips to hers once more. Lingering. Enticing. “I’m not afraid to learn.”

  No, she doubted he was afraid of anything. Anything he could comprehend, at least. He’d sized her up. Decided he knew the odds. Placed a bet he intended to win.

  He couldn’t be more wrong.

  The safest answer was no. It rose to the tip of her tongue, waiting. When she opened her mouth to let it escape, something else interfered. Distantly, she heard the soft ring of her voice. “I’ll go with you.”

  Twenty-three

  B

  randon leaned against the door to the lion handler’s containment room, smiling as Derek and Natalya knelt on the ground before one of the playful cubs. As he watched, Derek picked up a large baton-like toy affixed with a prickly, dog-sized rubber ball on a string. He waved it over the little cub’s head, giggling when the feline rose up on hind legs to catch the toy between its paws. The ball slipped free, snapping up to plunk Derek straight in the forehead. Brandon suppressed a chuckle. Natalya’s laughter rang out bright and clear.

  His smile deepened at the rich melody of her laugh. She didn’t do so nearly enough.

  As if she sensed his pleasure, she glanced over her shoulder and caught his gaze. A pretty pink blush infused her cheeks. Color that raced straight to Brandon’s heart and turned it on end. He felt the pull of her body, the driving need to move up behind her and touch—her shoulder, her hair, he didn’t care where. Just so long as he maintained contact. But this was their time. Derek was having the time of his life, Natalya looked it too, and Brandon was content to stay in the background. Watching. Admiring. Trying to read between all the intricate layers and discover the woman who opened those shutters to her soul.

  “She’s something, Bran. Where’d you find her?” Kaycee Janus, the trainer he’d briefly dated when he first arrived in Vegas, assumed the position on the wall at his left.

  “You think?”

  “Think?” Kaycee laughed. “Look at Dave over there. His tongue’s been hanging out since you two came in the back room.”

  Brandon’s gaze jerked to the other trainer who, like himself, watched Natalya. His ego flared, and a smirk tugged at his mouth. He looked away, his redhead far more interesting than a chubby man openly ogling a woman who had yet to notice his not-so-veiled attempt to get a look down her tight tank top.

  “Is she the boy’s mom?”

  “No. Just a friend.”

  Kaycee shot him a disbelieving look and let out a soft snort. “Uh-huh.”

  He blinked, uncertain what he’d said that amused her. “She’s not Derek’s mom.”

  “She’s not just a friend either.” Her eyes laughed at him. “There was a time I’d have cut off limbs to have you look at me the way you’re looking at her right now.”

  A slow, pleasurable burn spread through his body. He didn’t know where it came from, or what produced it, but it slid through his veins like warm sunlight. He liked looking at Natalya. Enjoyed the secret knowledge of the things they’d done. The things they would do yet.

  Man, she’s good with Derek. Natural.

  “Like how?” he murmured absently.

  “Like that.”

  He dragged his eyes off Natalya to squint at Kaycee. “You’re seeing things.”

  “Mm-hm. So are you. Tie me down, commitment, sort of things.”

  His eyes went wide as a nervous stutter took root behind his ribs. Commitment hadn’t entered his mind… Had it? He shook off the question with a shake of his head. “Wrong. You know that’s not my thing.”

  “Then why’s she here?”

  Again, he blinked. “Because I asked her to come?”

  “Exactly.” Satisfaction filled her knowing smile. “You, my friend, don’t date in the daytime.”

  “I do too.”

  “All right.” Mirroring his posture, she folded her arms across her chest. “How many lunch dates have you had in the last two months? How many days have you gotten out of bed to do something other than work or get ready for work? And how many times have you taken someone along on your outings with Derek in the past year?”

  Brandon’s smile slowly faded as he searched his memory. He dug deep, but try as he might, he couldn’t come up with a single example to back up his claim.

  “Told ya.”

  So what? He just hadn’t had a good excuse to abandon his nocturnal habits or give up his solitude. This was work, anyway. She fit into his case somehow. He frowned at Kaycee and turned his attention back to Natalya, who once again laughed as Derek dragged the ball across the floor, and the cub repeatedly pounced in attempts to catch it.

  Lord, that was a beautiful sound.

  “You’re toast, Bran. She might as well have Property of Brandon Moretti stamped across her back.”

  Perturbed by the sudden increase of his pulse, he grumbled. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Derek feed one of those monsters or something?”

  Kaycee’s chuckles lingered long after she abandoned her position at his side to take a prepared bottle over to Derek and Natalya. “Here, Derek, he’s hungry. You wanna feed him?”

  One eager nod accompanied Derek’s full-faced grin.

  “Come over to this chair.” Kaycee picked up the cub with one hand, while she ushered Derek to a bench on the wall. She passed Natalya the bottle, then placed the cub on its back in Derek’s scrawny arms. Patiently, she instructed him on how to hold the bottle and the cat.

  After a few uncoordinated attempts, Derek dropped the bottle, and the cub wriggled free. He giggled, not at all dismayed by his lack of coordination.

  Kaycee offered the bottle to Natalya. “You want to try?”

  Though he could see only her profile, Brandon recognized the surprised lift of her eyebrows. Her confidence cracked, replaced by the briefest glimpse of insecurity before she nodded and sat down uncertainly on the bench.

  Kaycee placed the cub in the crook of Natalya’s arm as she had with Derek, and helped her convince the cub to latch on to the large rubber nipple. When it did, Natalya’s expression softened like an angel’s. Wonder filled her gaze. Her lips lifted with unabashed adoration.

  Brandon’s heart skipped several dozen beats before he finally managed to calm it down enough and suck in air. Even then, he wasn’t entirely certain the rhythm behind his ribs resembled anything close to normal. The fierce knot that formed in his gut certainly wasn’t.

  He gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable cramp. He told himself it had nothing to do with Kaycee’s suggestion he was considering settling down. That all he wanted from Natalya was an unforgettable fuck, no strings attached. That she was part of his case, nothing more. But deep down in his soul, he knew the ball of lead that rolled around in the pit of his stomach didn’t bode well.

  N

  atalya rubbed her index finger beneath the cub’s chin, its purr as loud as a lawnmower. Fed and satisfied, the playful cub dozed lightly, content to have her rub its belly, its chin, its rounded ears. As she watched long wh
iskers twitch, she thought back to the day Kate gave birth to Derek, the last time she’d held anything this close, let alone anything young enough to be considered dependent. She’d been afraid to touch the red-skinned infant who miraculously just existed. Her nephew. When Erik had tucked Derek into her arms, that maternal instinct supposedly every woman owned hadn’t flared. She’d felt awkward, incompetent, and definitely detached from the human being in her grasp.

  Derek had been the first, and the only, baby of any kind she’d held since she and Kate lugged home two stray kittens when they were eight. While she’d always liked the cat that bonded to her, and accompanied her later to college, unlike her sister, she’d quickly outgrown the desire to dress it in doll clothes and try to convince it to stay in the stroller for a walk around the house. No, Kate had always been mommy material. Natalya, however, had never envisioned it as part of her life.

  Yet now, as she cuddled the kitten, a strange, distinctly maternal, sensation tickled in her chest. And though it wasn’t uncomfortable, she wasn’t certain she cared for it. A ticking biological clock could become a ticking time bomb for her. At the same time, in the last few days—ever since Brandon had asked her that damnable question—she’d begun to question what she might have missed by choosing an operative’s life.

  She could fault him squarely for that. For this weirdness churning around inside her now. If he hadn’t posed the question, if he hadn’t kissed her to the point she couldn’t think straight and had agreed to come here…

  Looking up, she caught his stare. His gaze burned, strengthening that unidentifiable pull on her lungs. The sudden, ferocious need to have his mouth on hers and his hands on her body, rose fast and hard. They’d avoided almost all contact since that incredible kiss against Kate’s door. Now and again, when their bodies had drifted closer, they’d hooked pinkies. Shared a few intimate smiles, and more than a few laughs at Derek’s enthusiasm. But as she held Brandon’s unblinking, unsettling stare, she realized the scarce contact wasn’t enough. She wanted more. A lot more than she had any business considering, and likely more than he’d care to give.