Her hand was stopped by one of his, by a guttural moan as he moved it back to his chest and held it over his heart. She could feel the steady pounding, the fast beating, and knew that hers would match beat-for-beat.
Nikolai broke off their kiss, but only long enough to adjust his hold on her as he took a few steps forward and held her in place against the wall. Bobbi rotated her hips even closer, driving herself against his hardness, letting him know exactly what she wanted.
She could feel the smile on his lips as he trailed kisses along her jaw line, down her neck, up to her ear. She could feel his warm breath against her heated flesh, could feel the excitement and tension building as he reached between them and grabbed the edge of her sweater, pulling it up, trailing a line of fire with his fingers as he outlined the cup of her bra with his palm. He pushed the lace down, his hand skimming the underside of her breast, teasing, reaching, until finally closing over her, gently caressing, tweaking the hard nipple between his fingers.
More heat erupted through her, and she was dimly aware of a harsh noise. It was Nikolai, his voice hoarse as he whispered in her ear, his breath warming her nearly as much as his words.
Until she realized he was speaking in Russian, and she realized she couldn’t respond.
So instead of saying anything, she let her body do the talking, let him feel her response to his touch, let him know exactly what he did to her.
He again shifted his hold on her, wrapping his arm more securely under her bottom, and she used the slight movement to push herself closer, to rub against his hard length, to feel the heat of him through her linen trousers, erupting between their bodies. Her hands continued their exploration, up and across his chest and shoulders then back down, lower, feeling the muscles of his abdomen twitch at her touch.
Nikolai groaned, pressed against her even more, and she wished, wanted, needed to feel him, flesh-to-flesh, hard and soft coming together. He lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked, creating a pull deep inside her. She felt him smile against her bare flesh when she groaned, and he raised his head, meeting her gaze with his heated one before trailing kisses along her neck and back to her ear.
“I want inside you, want to feel your tightness draw me in.” His hot breath scorched her skin as he teased her with his Russian words. She arched against him, wanting the same thing, needing…
“Please…” Her breathing was ragged, making the words come out in a harsh whisper. “I don’t…English….”
His mouth closed over hers, hot, possessive, demanding, as he ground his hips against her, and she met each thrust of his tongue, each thrust of his hips, with eager abandonment as the heat built, deeper, spiraling within her. She wrapped her legs even tighter around him, searching…
Nikolai broke the kiss with a low groan and reached between them, touching her, running his finger along the seam of her trousers, pressing. His gaze searched for and found hers, locking her eyes to his with a demanding intensity. “Come for me, my Bobbi, let me see your release.”
And oh God, she didn’t want…not like this…not without him deep inside her…but his hips thrust and his finger teased and she shattered against his touch, shards of herself flying outward then turning back in, exploding in a maelstrom of heat and want and desire. She heard herself gasp, felt his mouth crush against hers, inhaling her cry as the waves continued to pound through her. Long moments went by as the tremors eased, as her center returned, and only then did he gentle the kiss as his hands, soft and light now, caressed her skin.
At any moment she expected him to start again, to carry her to her bedroom or at least the sofa so they could continue, so he could find his own release. The heat built in her again at the thought of taking him deep inside her, holding him there, squeezing him, milking him until he came.
Instead he rocked his hips against her just once, almost gently, and eased her legs down. He continued to hold his body against hers, as if he knew her legs weren’t quite ready to support her, and trailed soft kisses along her neck and jaw, gently nibbling on her ear.
“You are a fiery woman, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich, but now I must go.” His whispered words against her skin sent another small tremor through her…until she realized what he said.
“G-go?” Surely he didn’t mean to leave. “But—”
He interrupted her with a quick kiss. “Shh. I must go. I think that you would regret if I stayed. I do not want that, so I will go.”
He couldn’t be serious. She had just experienced an explosive climax—fully clothed and in record time—and now he wanted to leave, without finishing…but the look in his eyes let her know he was serious.
And it had the same effect on her as if he had doused her with a bucket of icy water.
She straightened and tried to put some distance between them, but was stopped by the wall at her back. Good Lord, what had she just done? Already the self-recriminations were starting. What he must think…
He leaned in for a searing kiss as he grabbed her hand and held it to his crotch. Her fingers outlined his hard thickness as he rubbed against her, and her mouth watered at his very obvious excitement.
“You have done this to me, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich. And I want nothing more than to finish, to bury myself deep inside your wet heat. But you are not ready. So I will leave now.” He pressed himself against her one last time then removed her hand and brought it to his lips. “But know that I will sleep with your vision tonight, and that I will not find release until you are ready.”
Bobbi’s breath caught in her throat at his words, at the heat and passion in his eyes as he held her gaze. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and told herself not to read too much into it, that it was just a line.
But, man, it was one hell of a line.
Nikolai leaned down and gave her one last lingering kiss then pulled away and walked toward the door. She remained rooted to her spot against the wall until he winked at her and, with an admonishment to lock the door behind him, walked out.
Bobbi blew out a deep breath and went to do as he had asked, her legs still shaky as she reached down to turn the deadbolt.
“Holy shit,” she muttered as a last light tremor went through her. She leaned her forehead against the door and let out another breath.
“Holy shit, indeed.”
The voice behind her was cold and abrupt. She whirled around, her hand reaching behind her but coming up empty. Her fists clenched and rage boiled through her as Denny came down the hall from the direction of her bedroom.
“What the hell are you doing here?” She pushed away from the door and stormed through the house until she reached the kitchen. Her hands shook, both from rage and embarrassment, as she pulled open one of the drawers and dug through it.
“I could ask you the same thing. You certainly didn’t waste any time with the moves.”
“I did not ask for your opinion.” Her words were clipped as she closed the first drawer and pulled open a second, still searching. Dammit, where was it?
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
Bobbi whirled to face him, surprised to see him holding a small handgun out for her. The emotion on his face was quickly masked, but not before she had the chance to see the anger burning in his eyes. He stepped further into the kitchen and placed the gun on the counter, letting her see that he still had the clip in his hand. “Honestly, Bobbi. I don’t know why you still have this. You were never comfortable using it. You always let your emotions get in the way.”
Bobbi swallowed her own anger and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed in front of her, trying to stare him down. “What are you doing here?”
Denny leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, blocking her way out as he watched her with steady eyes. “What have you found out so far?”
Bobbi studied him closely, but his expression was completely blank, with no tells she could read flickering in his eyes. His previous anger had seemingly disappeared. But she knew him too well, even after a
ll these years, to trust what she saw with her eyes.
“His lifestyle doesn’t come close to matching what he reportedly makes. I need all of his financials, and any background notes on his family. They were conspicuously absent from the first file.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. Don’t ever step foot in my house again.”
“I just thought it might be prudent to follow-up personally.”
“We agreed that I’d report the information as I find it.”
“Well, Bobbi, right now it seems that the only information you have to report so far is the size of his dick. That’s not exactly what we’re looking for here.”
The words were cold and deliberately crude, but she refused to jump on them. She knew him well enough to know he was trying to get a reaction from her. He watched her closely for a few long seconds, then shook his head. “I want you ask him about his agent, find out what you can.”
Bobbi didn’t question the change of subject, knowing how Denny’s mind worked, knowing that he would share only what he wanted, when he wanted. She studied him for a long minute. “Why?”
“We think there might be something going on from that angle. There should be more money there, but we can’t find it. There’s no trace of it anywhere. As his…personal assistant…I want you to access his financials, his schedules and meetings and contacts.”
She ignored his emphasis on ‘personal assistant’ and asked the first question that came to her. “You have computer access to that now. Why do you need me to look from the inside?”
“Because nothing irregular shows up.”
“What?” Bobbi shook her head and studied him, trying to see more than what was there, trying to find the secrets he was keeping from her. Because with Denny, there were always secrets. “If nothing irregular shows up, then why the deeper look?”
“The agent gets a cut. A rather large cut.”
“Which would make it a dishonest business practice, not some nefarious plot for extortion.” But even Bobbi knew her words didn’t make sense, not when compared to the reality of what she’d seen so far of Nikolai and his lifestyle. Which only proved again that she didn’t have all the information she needed. “I want all the reports you have. I can’t work half-blind like this.”
Denny watched her, his dark eyes intent, calculating as he studied her. “Fine. Anything else?”
“Just those reports. And I mean it, Denny. Don’t come back here again. And if I learn you’re having me monitored, the deal is off. I’ll get you the information you need, but in my way.”
“I need it faster than you seem to be willing to work. Do you have a plan in place? Or were you just going to fuck the information out of him?”
“Get out.”
He must have sensed the underlying threat in her voice, or saw it in her eyes, because he didn’t say anything—he just simply turned around and walked out, tossing the clip on the dining room table as he passed. Bobbi didn’t move until after she heard the door slam, until after she checked to make sure he was really gone.
With a curse she went back into the kitchen and grabbed the pistol off the countertop, then grabbed the clip and walked back to her bedroom, turning off the lights as she went. Rage still burned through her, erasing all traces of the night’s earlier passion. Part of her felt violated at Denny’s intrusion and accusation. The bastard. What gave him the right…?
She cursed loudly, furious at him, furious at herself. She should have never agreed to do this, and she should have never let things get started with Nikolai. And she certainly shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did once it had started.
Dammit. She threw back the comforter and tossed some of the excess pillows to the floor before turning off the light, then flopped down on the bed without getting undressed. She kept the gun close by, vowing that if Denny so much as thought of coming back into her house again tonight, she’d prove him wrong by shooting first and worrying about the paperwork later.
Taking care of that problem was easy. What she didn’t know was what she was going to do about Nikolai.
Because something told her that it wouldn’t be as easy to stop him, not after what had started tonight.
CHAPTER THREE
Nikolai stopped at the door to Bobbi’s small office and watched her work—something none of his other assistants had ever done. No, their work involved following his every step, watching his every move.
But Bobbi was different, and he wondered if she was just what she claimed to be—a personal assistant. She sat with her back to him, her head bent over the battered desk, her red-blonde hair hiding her face as she studied the papers in front of her, making notes and muttering to herself. His palms tingled with the need to touch her, to run his hand through the satin strands of her hair, to feel her soft skin against his flesh.
His cock twitched in his pants, eager for the same thing. It was a condition that had plagued him for the last week, ever since the night at her house. He still wasn’t sure why he had stopped, not when her body was eager for him, not when her response to his touches had been so swift and sure.
Not when his own body ached to be cradled by hers, ached for release in her warm depths.
No, Nikolai corrected himself. Watching her now, the set of her shoulders so serious—too serious for someone who was merely supposed to be watching him—he realized he did know why he had stopped.
He had stopped because, after all these years, he no longer trusted anyone. Trust was a weapon used against him, something to hold over his head. And just as he no longer trusted anyone, he no longer allowed himself to get close to anyone. Closeness turned into danger, and relationships turned into threats.
Nikolai had learned those lessons the hard way eight years ago, when his brother was brutally murdered for no other reason than to send a message. It was a message Nikolai had heeded without fail.
But Bobbi was different. He was very much afraid that he could learn to trust this woman, allow her into his life. That he could dare hope that, maybe, eight years’ penance, eight years’ payment, would be enough.
He shook his head at such foolish thoughts. He had just met this woman. It was foolish indeed to be thinking such things about someone he barely knew.
But wasn’t it just as foolish to deny the attraction he was certain flared between them? Surely eight years’ penance had allowed him some freedom, if only in this.
Nikolai continued watching Bobbi, feeling a lost part of himself reawaken. The pulse beat heavy in his throat as blood rushed through his body, reminding him that he was more than a pawn, reminding him that he was alive. What was it about this woman he barely knew that brought these dangerous thoughts to life?
Dangerous or not, Nikolai knew that he no longer wanted to pretend to live. He no longer wanted to watch, to be a spectator in life. He had learned his lessons well and had lived accordingly for the last eight years, doing everything that was demanded of him.
As he would continue to do so, simply because he had no choice.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t pursue the attraction he felt for this stranger new to his life. That didn’t mean he couldn’t step outside the rigid constraints that had been imposed upon him all those years ago.
Nikolai took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his mind made up as he stepped into the room. His steps were quiet, but not so quiet that Bobbi wouldn’t hear him approaching. He dropped his hands onto her shoulders, feeling the heat of her skin tingle his palms. It was the first time he had deliberately touched her in a week, and he wasn’t surprised when she jumped.
“You are working too hard, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich.”
Bobbi jumped at the feel of warm hands on her shoulders, at the sound of the voice behind her. She closed the file she had been studying and tucked it into the pile in front of her then whirled in her chair, not surprised to see Nikolai less than a foot away. Standing as close he was, her gaze rested squarely at groin level and she bit back a groan, her
mouth suddenly dry. She pushed the chair back a few inches until it hit the desk, and looked up at him.
He must have just taken a shower, because his hair was slicked back off his face, accentuating his strong facial structure. There was the faintest smell of something spicy, and she knew that it was the combination shampoo and body wash he used because he didn’t wear cologne. And she didn’t want to dwell on how quickly she had come to know such a small and intimate detail about this man who was still essentially a stranger to her.
A grin stretched his lips and lit his eyes, and she wondered if he had planned his silent approach.
A week had passed since that night in her house, and he hadn’t referred to it once. And except for accidental brushes against her, or the occasional touch on her arm or shoulder, he hadn’t even tried to touch her, hadn’t even tried to stage a repeat performance.
Bobbi pretended it didn’t bother her. And really, it shouldn’t bother her, because any further contact would only make it harder for her to remain neutral, would make it harder for her to do her job. And she had to remember: she was here to do a job.
Which was becoming increasingly more difficult to do, because she was coming up completely empty when it came to finding information that would prove he was the victim of extortion. She was beginning to wonder what would happen even if she did find the information Denny needed. It wasn’t like Denny could do anything about it without an official complaint. And from what she could see so far, Nikolai didn’t seem inclined to complain—about anything.
She focused her attention back on Nikolai, noticed that he was looking at her expectantly, and realized he had asked her a question. “I’m sorry, what?”
He shook his head and laughed, a deep throaty chuckle, then reached down and grabbed her hand to pull her from the chair. He pulled a little too hard and she actually bumped into him when she stood, feeling his body hard against hers for a split second before he stepped away and released her hand. Deliberate, or accidental? She couldn’t tell.
“I said you are too preoccupied and jumpy. You are working too hard.”
Game Over (The Baltimore Banners Book 2) Page 4
