Obsidian Liquor

by Scarlett Dawn

  I grabbed my forehead and groaned.

  Then, I heard it.

  Another groan. But a lot more fucking deep and masculine…right next to me.

  My eyes shot open, and I blinked repeatedly through the blinding sunlight. Brown, utterly blood shot eyes, were blinking open at me. Time slowed, and flat out paused, as we stared at one another, our noses almost touching.

  We both shouted.

  I scooted back as fast as I could, jumping to my feet, screaming as Daniil rolled off the bed, bellowing and standing to his feet while he stared at me wide-eyed, both of us holding our heads. His gaze darted down my body just as I was doing to his.

  I saw that he was fucking naked. I screamed louder and glanced down at my own body.

  Shit! I was butt ass naked too.

  We both dove for the down comforter. I got a good grip on it, yanking and pulling it up to my chest just as he got an end covering his, not shriveled like prunes cock and balls, the blanket like a tent over the bed as I continued to stand on it while he stood on the floor across from me.

  We gawked at one another, both of us silent now.

  A full minute passed in stunned quiet.

  He was not providing any answers, so I started surveying the room I was in, squinting because I could not see shit without my glasses. I saw our clothing lying all around the bed, my duffle by the door, an empty bottle, and knocked over chair, plus two empty glasses on the table.

  Scared to do it, I moved a little on the mattress and glanced down.

  An undeniable sex streak stained the black sheets. “Holy shit.”

  He was staring at the same spot and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “Jesus.”

  I breathed deeply, and tried to remember how the fuck we had gotten here.

  I gazed at him, my eyebrows coming together as he stared back.

  I remembered the bar.

  Something about ugly bodyguards.

  Vague memories of coming into this room, his room.

  Singing, maybe?

  I thought harder. Yeah, there had been definite singing.

  I blinked, and my jaw dropped as the memories came in a flood of the unwanted.

  My gaze lowered back to his covered cock.

  He had not been hard waking, but holy motherfucker I remembered when he had been.

  And what we had done…

  It appeared like he was beginning to remember too because his features blanked, and his gaze slowly went to my neck and down to where I held the blanket against my chest and then lower, even though he could not see anything.

  I had to ask. “Did you wear a condom?”

  He sucked in a large, sluggish breath, and let the blanket fall, probably figuring, hell I had already seen it anyway. I tried to keep my gaze on his face, but my God. For an older man…shit…even for a younger man, his tan body was in incredible shape. His shoulders were wide, his muscles bulging at his biceps. His pecs were rock hard, and Jesus, he had a fucking six-pack. His waist was lean, his thighs strong as he walked, his ass rock hard, and even limp, his cock was much larger than most.

  I pivoted, keeping the blanket around me as he rounded the bed, and pulled open the drawer to the nightstand that I had slept closest to. He pulled out a package of condoms. He stared, and then started spewing harshly in Russian. I spoke as calmly as I could, “I can’t understand you.”

  He closed his eyes, holding up the package. “It’s not opened.” His eyes shot open and he turned to me. “Did you have any on you?”

  My voice trembled when I stated simply, “No.”

  He rolled his shoulders. “Birth control?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck!” he shouted, tossing the condoms back into the drawer and slamming it shut.

  I, on the other hand, cringed and turned my back to him, careful to keep the blanket tight around my nude frame. I felt like crying. But fuck if I was going to do that in front of him.

  He breathed harshly behind me, but he probed softly, “Tell me you’ve been tested.”

  I cleared my throat. “I get tested every six months. They’ve always come up clean.”

  “Good,” he muttered. “I do the same thing with the same results.”

  I stilled when I heard people far outside the door. “Who’s that?”

  Daniil lunged across the room, standing there in all his naked glory with his ear pressed to the door. The voices were getting louder, coming closer. He glanced at the clock, and I followed his gaze. I squinted, and I could hardly read it, but I was pretty sure it said 9:33. That meant I needed to get the fuck out of here if I wanted to grab something to settle my stomach and pounding head, and still make it to the first event at 10:00.

  I really, really wanted to get out of here.

  Daniil grimaced, and started racing around the room shoving things under the bed. “It’s my kids. They will have a shit fit if they see me naked with a woman.” He grabbed my glasses and tossed them in a drawer as I stood gawking.

  Was he worried about being caught with a woman in his bed?

  Daniil glanced everywhere, but if he was looking for a place to hide me, he would not find it. The bathroom must be down the hall because there were no other doors in the room. Not even a closet, just a dresser. “Shit.” He glanced at the door as they got even closer, arguing with his bodyguards by the sound of it. It was not just his kids, because I heard what sounded like Stash and Zane speaking too. “Lay down flat.”

  I just stood staring at him in shock.

  He growled, springing at me and covering my mouth as I squeaked.

  I gaped wide-eyed, frozen, as he positioned me flat on my back and centered on the bed…right before he yanked the comforter away from me, diving down on top of me. I panted breathlessly as he lay naked on top of me. “We are not having sex again!”

  He snorted. “No shit.” I glared as he arranged pillows around my head, covering all but my face, and he muttered, “Thank God you’re bitty.”

  He froze.

  I stilled.

  I remembered him saying that to me about a certain part of my anatomy.

  He cleared his throat, his eyes darting to mine for a second before his expression hardened again, his nose crinkling, and he turned his attention to spreading the comforter out right. “Now be still.” He rested his head to the side—directly above my nose—putting his arms on either side of my face on top of the pillows.

  I tried to breathe normally, but Christ, he was heavy and squashing me horribly. I had no time to complain unless I wanted everyone to know that I had slept with Grigori’s dad, because by the sound of it, even as the bodyguards argued with them, Artur, Eva, Stash, and Zane barged into the room.

  Daniil had closed his eyes and was softly pretending to snore. It was pretty realistic.

  I breathed shallowly, trying not to blow his hair too badly.

  Eva coughed hard, muttering, “Jesus. It smells like a distillery in here.”

  Daniil blinked his eyes open, barely moving his head to the side. “What the fuck is everyone doing in here?”

  A flurry of movement. It sounded like some left, probably the guards.

  “It’s about Zoya. We think Ember poisoned her last night,” Artur stated instantly, oddly, sounding pleased with that bit of news.

  I stilled completely.

  Oh. If he was happy with the news, he was not the only one. That was fucking perfect.

  Daniil froze when I did, and he started speaking quickly in Russian.

  I pinched his thigh hard where my hand rested. The asshole was not going to start that shit up again. He words faltered as he grunted, moving his legs between mine, and started talking again…still in Russian.

  His cock rested against my core, and unbelievably, as everyone in the fucking room spoke to one another in a language I did not understand, he started to get hard. I lifted my head a smidge and bit his earlobe. I wanted him the fuck off me…even if, by some delirious miracle, the sex had been great from what I could remember.


  He grunted, and quickly cleared his throat, even as I bit harder, and he stated rapidly in English, “I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

  It did not sound like they wanted to leave, but Stash got them moving.

  They said their farewells; except for…Daniil did not move.

  I bit him harder, but he only pressed down more firmly on me.

  I quickly realized why.

  The door shut, and Zane, who apparently had stayed in the room, said quietly, “Daniil, whoever’s under you right now had better keep her fucking mouth shut about what she just heard.” His tone was a complete honest threat. “If she doesn’t…I. Will. Ruin. Her.”

  Daniil turned his head, just enough to stare me in the eyes, but not enough for Zane to see me. “You have nothing to worry about, Zane, because I will ruin her myself before you would ever need to if she says anything to anyone.” Shark. He was most categorically a killer shark staring down at me with that deadly gaze, even if he was hard down below.

  “Good. And your kids didn’t notice. Stash kicked her bra completely under the bed before they saw it,” Zane commented.

  Daniil nodded, still with his eyes on mine.

  Zane left, gently shutting the door behind him.

  I was angry, and more than a little scared, staring back at Daniil, and I only waited a heartbeat before hissing, “Get the fuck off me.”

  His teeth bared. Definitely a damn shark. “Will you keep your mouth shut, Ms. Forter?”

  Slowly, knowing I shouldn’t, but not able to stop myself, I opened my mouth wide.

  I left it that way. Fuck you, old man.

  His nostrils flared. He glared, his cheeks flushing, right before he shouted, “Are you as crazy as your fucking hair? I could break your neck, shoot you, suffocate you, beat you, or slit your throat, all without a second thought. And yet, you still try to piss me off?”

  I squirmed, my heart in my throat. He had officially scared the shit out of me. He stared with a look I had not seen in his eyes before. His gaze told me he was telling the truth. He would murder me without an ounce of remorse. I could not breathe with him on me, and I pushed as hard as I could against his chest, digging my heels into the mattress, shoving back. All that got me was…nowhere…and a laugh from him.

  Still chuckling, he gripped my face. I tried to jerk away, starting to hyperventilate, but he just gripped tighter, his fingers digging into my scalp. “Do you really think you can get away from me that easily?” He shook his head. “I told you last night you would only get hurt doing that, and now look at you. You can barely breathe; you’re so scared.” He chuckled as if it was the funniest thing he had heard.

  I gasped, “You’re crazy.” I had slept with a crazy man. An old crazy man.

  What the hell had I been thinking?

  A full-fledged freak out was on its way. I could feel it, staring up at the man with death eyes and a laughing mouth. It began to edge out, a complete breakdown like I had not had since my father had caught me having sex that first time. I had to get away from this man.

  He clamped a hand over my mouth, just as I was getting ready to scream. His smile was instantly gone, only a stone cold killer staring back at me as he murmured quietly, “Now do you understand who I am, Ms. Forter? Will you keep your mouth shut?”

  My breath was coming hard and fast, and I felt like I was going to faint, but I was smart enough to nod. Yes, I would keep my mouth shut. Especially, as he lay on top of me with a hard cock and my death in his eyes.

  “Good.” He took his hand off my mouth, rolling off the bed and me. “Maybe you’re smarter than you appear.”

  I quickly brushed the tears away that had escaped, and holding the blanket against me, moved until I fell off the bed. On the side he was not on. It hurt my knees, but I kept low, reaching a trembling hand under the bed, grabbing anything I felt and yanking it out until I found all of my clothes and duffle. I was trembling so badly it was difficult to get my clothes on under the cover, and my stupid tears would not stop flowing, but I did it as fast as possible. I needed to get away from the violence he promised.

  When I had my bra, panties, and dress on, I grabbed my heels, slinging my duffle over my shoulder and brushed the blanket aside. I did not glance anywhere near him as he stood silent, watching me, as I raced across the room, banging into the dresser where he had hid my glasses. Yanking the drawer almost all the way out, I grabbed them, managing not to crush them as I put them on. They instantly fogged from my tears and heated skin, and I had to yank them back off. Fuck it. I did not need to see perfectly to leave.

  Not looking back, I ran out of the room and down the hallway. The bodyguards were sitting on the couch, watching TV. All three of them observed me as I raced across the living room, fumbling with the door handle and fighting a losing battle with wiping my tears away. I hated it when my dad’s advice was right. Go looking for trouble, which I did on a normal basis with my job, and it will find you even sooner.

  I threw the door open and raced out of the room…only to run into a wall.

  A Zane wall.

  Starting to fall, he grabbed my arms, easily keeping me on my feet.

  I jerked out of his hold when I was steady, wiping tears away again with the back of my shaking hand that held my shoes and glasses. I glanced away from his completely shocked face.

  Yeah. It was me.

  He recovered well enough, clearing his throat. “I was going to tell the women that exited his room that I was honest in my threat.” He paused, staring. I would not look at him, but I could feel his penetrating gaze on my face. “I’m still honest in it, but I don’t think you need to hear that.”

  My chin wobbled as I remembered what Daniil had said.

  The ways he would kill me.

  After having sex with me the night before.

  My eyes burned as fresh tears fell, and my throat clogged so hard I had to clear it. I nodded once before dodging past him and running full out down the hallway without a clue if it was even the right direction, my black dress pressing against my front and blowing out behind me. I just needed to get the fuck away.

  “No way, Elizabeth. Everyone’s busy. They have their assignments. You begged for this. Now you have it. Suck it up,” my editor, Clifford, barked into my ear. Then he hung up on me.

  I gazed at my phone, jumping as someone bumped my arm outside the arena entrance.

  I could not calm down, and it appeared, I could not get out of this fucking assignment.

  I cursed, throwing my phone into my purse. I dug through it until I found the aspirin at the bottom and a water bottle with just enough moisture left in it to down as much medicine as I dared. My head hurt; my eyes were dry and scratchy-to go right along with my throat-since I had bawled while I was in the shower.

  Now, I had to go back in with the man that had made it all possible.

  Throwing my empty water bottle into a trashcan, I pushed my sunglasses up on my nose; I had put my contacts in, making my eyes hurt worse. I could not let anyone see how horribly blood shot my eyes were even after the puffiness had gone down from my crying jag. The vodka had certainly not done my body good. I pulled at my half-turtleneck, sleeveless ribbed blouse, making sure the fucking hickie Daniil had given me on the bottom of my neck was covered. The damn thing was huge with tiny little bruises of teeth marks around it where he had bitten me before sucking.

  I sighed and rolled my neck, opening one of the doors to the event that was already taking place inside. I was an hour late. Other than the sunglasses, I, at least, appeared like a professional, my wild curls excluded since they were an aberration to human kind. I knew there was music blaring inside, but after stepping into the room designed for this morning group sparring defense event, I immediately wanted to leave.

  Loud rock music was not conducive to a hangover.

  I rubbed my temples and walked forward through the bleachers. I already had a program and knew Lion Security would be paired against Ploya Vie Security
’s finest in a half hours’ time. There were two groups going at it right now, one attacking the other that stood in the middle. I did not peer too closely. I was not feeling warm and cozy with violence right now.

  Glancing about the room, I saw where the members of the press were seated. I quickly made my way there, crossing in front of a bleacher where celebrities cheered, making my head hurt even worse. I felt like I was going to throw up. But I never did that. Puking was just not healthy in my opinion.

  I could not see any great seat, so I merely headed toward the closest one I saw. I waded through the folded chairs, the fellow press members yelling at me as I got in the way of their shots. Ignoring them because I did not want to talk to anyone, I sat down on a hard seat, and without excitement took out my camera. I lifted it to my face, but my sunglasses got in the way of seeing anything decent.

  Cracking my neck, I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head, since it was dark around the edges of the room where I sat. There was only a spotlight in the center of the large room, showing the fighters to full effect. I was able to snap a few shots before the fight ended.

  Mrs. Donovan and the Mayor spoke as medical personnel, and members of the competitors groups that had not participated in this round, helped those injured off the floor.

  I turned on my seat, not looking anywhere near the family section, glancing up at the bleachers where the competing groups were sitting like before. I found the hot pink shirts, and put the camera to my face and started taking photos of Brent, Cole, Ember, and Grigori, the ones that would sell the most newspapers right now. Ember appeared to be arguing with Zane, who was shaking his head at her, his expression stern, and the other three were just watching Mrs. Donovan and the Mayor speak.

  I figured out why Ember was irritated. Apparently, she was not going to fight in this particular event. She appeared furious as she stood on the sidelines with a few others from Lion Security. Everyone else from L.S. was out in the middle of the floor, situating themselves in a circle with their backs to one another.