Submit (The Underground Book 4)

by Becca Jameson

  Stay in his apartment? Lord.

  Taylor spoke again. “If it’s a problem, we can move you to a safe house, but then you’ll be trapped there for the duration of the case without outside contact.”

  “She’ll stay here,” Nikolav stated.

  Belinda jerked her attention to him again. This time she did explode. “You can stop speaking for me any time. I’m a big girl.” He might be sexy all domineering like that, but she needed to speak up before he steamrolled her.

  He grinned, lifting an eyebrow. “Okay, you tell her.” He held out an open palm toward Taylor, gesturing for Belinda to repeat his words.

  She narrowed her gaze, her face heating before she turned back to face Taylor. “I’ll stay here for tonight, but only because I know it’s easier. I’ve only known Nikolav since yesterday, and I met his roommates a few minutes ago. I’m intruding here.”

  “You’re not intruding,” he added.

  Alena cleared her throat and agreed. “You’re welcome here as long as you need.”

  Taylor held Belinda’s gaze. “I’ll be in touch with you directly and often. If we need to make any changes, we’ll address those as they come. For now, if you could stay here tonight, it would be helpful. The agency’s people are stretched thin. We’ll speak again tomorrow.”

  “Understandable.”

  Belinda needed to shake off whatever leftover adrenaline rush she had left and get to work. She needed to document everything she’d witnessed tonight while it was still fresh. Shit. Her computer. “I left my computer in Haley’s office.”

  “We’ll get it tomorrow,” Nikolav said. “If you need one tonight, you can use ours.”

  Belinda glanced at her watch. It was late. She needed to call Dale and touch base with him. She couldn’t wait to hear what Taylor said to him and how he’d responded.

  Taylor stood. “You’re safe here. But don’t leave the apartment without anyone knowing. None of you.” She glanced at Nikolav and then Ivan and Alena. “Sergei’s on his way here. He was at the gym. I stopped there and spoke with him earlier.”

  This woman seemed to know more about everyone’s whereabouts than each of them knew about themselves.

  Nikolav stood to let Taylor out.

  Belinda took a deep breath and tugged her phone out of her pocket. Thank God she hadn’t been carrying a purse, nor had she lost her phone when they ran. She turned it on to find she had dozens of texts and phone messages. “I need to work for a few hours,” she told Nikolav. “And call my boss.”

  “Of course. What can I do? What sort of space do you need? I’ve been staying in Mikhail’s room since he moved in with Haley. There’s a desk in there. Will that help?”

  “Yes. And coffee.” She stood, smiling. “And stop speaking for me,” she informed him. “I have my own voice box.”

  In her peripheral vision, she noticed Ivan and Alena slip down the hall.

  Nikolav growled as he turned to step into the attached kitchen area. The apartment was large, and the great room spacious enough for several people, but she still worried about five adults in tight quarters for long lengths of time. Days? Weeks? She was imposing on their space.

  But most importantly, she needed Nikolav to understand she didn’t like to be bossed around. It unnerved her, partly because it was so high-handed, but mostly because her pulse raced every time he did it.

  Nikolav filled the coffee pot with water and then turned to fill the reservoir. “You’d rather go to a safe house than stay here?”

  “Never said that. But I’d rather speak for myself.”

  He turned around and leaned against the counter as the coffee brewed, crossing his arms over his chest. He smirked. “Did I say a word you didn’t agree with?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Oh, he was infuriating. “I don’t want to argue with you right now. I have to get my notes down before I forget something.” And I need to get out of your space so I can think clearly.

  She sincerely hoped he would give her some time to work without breathing down her neck, or she would never be able to concentrate. No woman would ever be able to think clearly with him in the room. He filled it with his enormous sexy body, his domineering methods, and his sensual mannerisms.

  Just the way he moved made her take notice. Even leaning casually against the counter, he was drool worthy. His muscles bulged in his arms. His dark hair was messy in a sexy sort of way that made her want to run her fingers through it, not to straighten it, but to feel the texture.

  She yanked her gaze from him to pretend to study the rest of the great room, concentrating on the décor. The space was done in black, white, and gray. The cabinets in the kitchen area were white, sleek, modern. The counter was black. The tile floor and carpet were both a swirl of grays.

  In the awkward silence, she returned her gaze to Nikolav to find him staring at her intently. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember to let you speak for yourself in the future. I tend to be…bossy. And I’m used to getting my way.”

  She was taken aback. “Thank you. And this isn’t about you getting your way. It’s about our collective safety. I’m not stupid. I don’t usually make bad choices.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure you don’t, but I don’t want you going to a safe house.”

  She stared at him intently. “Why?”

  “It would make me nervous if I didn’t know where you were, and I can’t control your safety if you leave here.”

  Goose bumps rose on her skin. He was protective. She got that. But she barely knew him. Right? “We just met yesterday.”

  He frowned for a moment and then slowly smiled and shrugged. “You grew on me fast. I don’t like the idea of you being in danger.”

  Was he trying to lighten the mood? Perhaps. Either way, she appreciated his apology and his interest in her well-being.

  The coffee pot made a hissing noise to indicate it was done, and Nikolav turned around to grab a mug and pour her a cup. “Cream? Sugar?”

  “Both if you have them. Light, though. Just enough to mask the harsh taste.”

  He grabbed a small covered bowl from near the coffee pot and put about half a spoonful of sugar in the mug. And then he turned toward the fridge and found the half-and-half. He held it up. “This okay? Alena uses it.”

  “Perfect.”

  He added a small stream to her mug and returned it to the fridge. With the spoon in the cup, he picked it up and nodded toward the hallway. “I’ll show you where you can work.”

  She followed him, specifically noticing he still held her coffee. When they entered the first door on the right across from the bathroom, she paused in the doorway. The room was spacious, and she watched as Nikolav continued toward the desk across from the door under the window. The blinds were closed.

  He set the coffee down and grabbed several papers off the desk to move them out of the way. “Will this be okay?” He flipped open a laptop and turned to face her.

  “Perfect. I don’t want to put you out, though. It’s late.”

  “Stop worrying about putting people out. It’s going to be cramped in this apartment for a while. We’ll survive. There are three bedrooms. Alena is across the hall at the end. Ivan is in the next room on this side of the hall across from Alena. Bathroom’s right out there.” He pointed toward the doorway. “Sergei’s been on the couch.”

  She nodded. Where the hell did that leave her?

  “You can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the other end of the sectional.”

  “No. Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need a bed anyway. As long as I have a pillow, I can easily sleep anywhere. You can’t share the couch while I take your bed.”

  He shrugged. “Couch is huge.” He pointed at the desk. “Get your work done. We can argue later.” He winked at her and strode from the room, shutting the door behind him.

  She didn’t have the energy to tell him there was no way in hell she was staying in this apartment more than one night. Somehow, s
omeway, she would work things out with the FBI. She wasn’t going to a safe house. And she wasn’t staying with strangers in their apartment.

  Even if one of those strangers was smoking hot and made her squeeze her legs together every time he was in the same room.

  Chapter Seven

  Nikolav returned to the living room as Sergei arrived. He locked the door and reset the alarm before dropping his gym bag on the floor near the couch. “Heard we’ve added another house guest.”

  “Yep. Belinda. She’s in my room working on her story.”

  “Does she always work this late at night?”

  “Only when there’s an explosion she needs to document while the details are fresh in her mind.”

  “Right. Makes sense.” Sergei glanced at the sofa and pointed at it. “It’s big. We’ve slept in tighter quarters before.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Too bad Ivan has a perfectly good empty apartment we can’t use.”

  “That is frustrating.” Nikolav made his way toward the kitchen area to get his own cup of coffee. If Belinda intended to stay up late, he would stay up with her.

  “What’s she like?”

  “Who? Belinda?” He returned to the living room area and plopped down on the sofa, taking a sip of his coffee before setting it on the coffee table. He closed his eyes and lowered his voice. “She has me by the balls, to be honest.”

  He and Sergei had always been close. They’d been the last two out of the six of them to stay in Vegas and continue to fight for Yenin. For months they’d stayed after Yenin got out of prison. Nikolav blamed himself. Though he’d suspected Yenin was up to something none of them were privy to, he’d also felt bad abandoning the man who brought him over from Russia and gave him a life.

  Sergei had undoubtedly stuck around to support Nikolav.

  He’d held out hope for half a year Yenin would get his shit back together after he was released and resume managing his fighters. But the leader of the Russian Mafia had sent his father, Grigory Yenin, back to New York and sequestered himself in the lab in much the same fashion as Grigory.

  Nikolav kept in touch at least once a week with Leo and Mikhail after they moved to Chicago, and later Ivan. When it seemed the three of them had far more gigs in Chicago working for Abram, Nikolav had talked to Sergei and the two of them had decided to join.

  Their decision was made easier when the shit started hitting the fan and it seemed Yenin was behind it.

  Nikolav took another sip of his coffee and then leaned back on the couch, putting his feet on the table in front of him.

  Sergei chuckled. “That doesn’t really tell me anything about her. But at least I know to keep my hands to myself.”

  “Please. If you value your life.” Nikolav knew Sergei well. The guy was a lady’s man. Women flocked to him as if he hung the moon. What was it with women and their animal magnetism for strawberry blond dudes with blue eyes?

  Sergei chuckled as he lowered himself onto the other end of the sectional. “Message received. So I guess she’s hot?”

  Nikolav moaned. “Italian.”

  “Ah.” Sergei let out a long, soft whistle. “Dark hair?”

  “Yep. And chocolate eyes. And her skin… Jesus.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind him. He would surely hear if she opened the bedroom door, but he didn’t want her to walk in and catch him talking about her. “Even sick yesterday morning, she packed a punch. When she got up today and primped for work, I nearly swallowed my tongue.”

  Sergei continued to grin. “She know you’re into her?”

  Nikolav groaned. “Not sure it matters. She’s got balls. Insisted on traipsing around this evening to get that story. Couldn’t talk her out of it. And she put me in my place more than once since we got back here. Doesn’t like me telling her what to do.”

  Sergei chuckled again. “Rich. Man, you must be frustrated.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” He closed his eyes again and tipped his head toward the ceiling. Visions of Belinda swam around in his mind. She was strong and stubborn and feisty. No denying any of it. He’d known that for two days. The question was did she take that assertiveness to bed, or could she check it at the door?

  Nikolav could deal with her wanting her independence in her professional life. In fact, it was so attractive his cock ached. But he’d also seen her tremble when he spoke. And she flushed when he took control. Every time.

  Maybe he misread her thoughts, but if there was any chance in hell she could check that attitude at the threshold to his bedroom, he would take her under his wing and make her his in a heartbeat.

  “The FBI agent isn’t hard on the eyes, either,” Sergei added.

  Nikolav twisted to look at him again. “Jesus, man. Don’t you ever stop? Is every woman you meet a conquest?”

  Sergei smirked as he shrugged. “No. Just the smokin’ hot ones. Don’t you agree?”

  Nikolav rolled his eyes. “I guess. I didn’t really think much about it. She’s an FBI agent, dude. I don’t think she generally sleeps with guys like us.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “We don’t exactly play by the rules. The FBI is probably hoping to arrest us, not fuck us.”

  Sergei chuckled. “Leo and Mikhail say the FBI has little interest in something as uninteresting as underground fighters.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m betting she’s married to her job. And I seriously doubt her tastes run toward the submissive.”

  “Why? Because she has a powerful job? Those are often the best kinds.”

  Nikolav sighed. There was no arguing with his friend. Besides, the guy was right about that last part. At least he hoped so. Because Belinda Gallo was one of those high-powered women who bossed their way through every day. And he was secretly praying she could turn some of that sass over to him one day, at least in the bedroom.

  »»•««

  Belinda typed quickly, grabbing the rapid-fire story flowing out of her fingers without paying any attention to spelling or grammar. She could fix all that when she was done.

  The moment she hung up with her boss, she knew exactly what to do. And although she worked best late at night with an adrenaline rush, she was unusually pumped tonight.

  She had downed the coffee while speaking to Dale, and the caffeine in her veins had given her the burst of energy she needed to put the insane scramble for her life out of her mind. She concentrated on the explosion first, how it made her feel, the adrenaline rush, the people running in every direction. The sounds of screaming, babies crying, horns honking as traffic came to a stop. The scent of smoke in the air. The way it clogged her lungs with the debris. How her eyes burned as she moved away from the epicenter.

  When she finished with the explosion, she moved on to the chase through the streets. The masked men. The guns. The FBI skidding up next to her and Nikolav to pick them up.

  She typed and typed, losing track of time. When she finished the first draft, she immediately read and reread the piece until she had it precisely the way she wanted it. As she finished and sat back, she remembered where she was.

  Shit.

  She jumped to standing and spun around. Where was Nikolav? She’d put him out of his own room and had completely forgotten about anything but her job.

  Also not unusual for her, but she’d never worked so focused in someone else’s bedroom in the late hours of the night while they politely let her take over their space.

  She padded from the room, opening the door carefully, hoping to avoid disturbing everyone in the apartment if they were sleeping.

  Instead she found the living room still lit up, Nikolav and another man sitting on the couch drinking a beer and watching some sports news channel.

  Nikolav glanced over his shoulder as she stepped into the room. “Hey. Did you finish?”

  “Yes. Thank you. So sorry.” She glanced at her watch. It was after two. And it would take her awhile to unwind.

 
The other man stood and held out a hand. “Sergei,” he said as reached over the back of the couch.

  “Belinda Gallo. Nice to meet you. Sorry I’m such a nuisance.”

  Sergei grinned. “No worries. You’re fine.” He waved a hand through the air and resumed his seat. He was taller than Nikolav and looked nothing like him. His strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes were in sharp contrast to Nikolav’s dark hair and eyes. And where Nikolav had pale skin that would easily burn in the sun, Sergei’s skin was surprisingly dark considering his red hair.

  Nikolav lifted the remote to mute the television. “You must be exhausted.” He rose from the couch and rounded it to reach her side. “We’ll find a way to get some of your belongings over here tomorrow, but in the meantime, Alena left you a few things in the guest bath.” He took her hand and nearly dragged her from the room.

  She cringed as he mentioned her things as if he fully intended for her to stay in this apartment for the long haul. Wasn’t going to happen. “Nice to meet you,” she called over her shoulder toward Sergei. It was late, but she didn’t feel the urgency he obviously felt. Then again, he probably had to get up early. Dale wasn’t expecting Belinda at all tomorrow. She could sleep as late as she wanted and would contact him when she got around to it.

  Nikolav pointed toward the bathroom, angling her in that direction while he turned toward his bedroom.

  She slipped inside, trying to be as quiet as possible. After all, Alena and Ivan had to be asleep down the hall even if the rest of the apartment wasn’t. She smiled as she found a new toothbrush, makeup remover, and a towel sitting in a little pile on the vanity.

  It didn’t take her long to use the bathroom, and then she was once again standing at the doorway to Nikolav’s room.

  He didn’t hear her approach, and she found him leaning against the window staring out between the blinds.

  Damn he was built.

  She didn’t move an inch, taking in the way his muscles bulged down his back, tapering to his waist. His biceps were huge. She wouldn’t be able to wrap both hands around them.