Submit (The Underground Book 4)

by Becca Jameson

  She blinked her eyes open.

  His expression was serious. “Sexiest woman ever. Hands down. Now, stop fretting about how attractive I find you, and let’s get you appropriately dressed to interview my friends.”

  “You—”

  “This wasn’t about me. Not this time. It was about you. And you’re right. I should have done that Monday night. If I’d had any idea how submissive you were, I would have. But I didn’t think it was fair to take you to that place without your permission.”

  “Why was this morning different?” He still took her there without discussing it.

  “Because you’ve been fuming mad after misunderstanding my intentions for two days. I couldn’t stand another moment of it.” He tapped her nose with one finger and smiled. “I like this just-fucked look much better. It will be easier to spend the day with you knowing you crave my cock than watching you glare at me in anger or flush with embarrassment.”

  “I wasn’t angry.”

  “You were.”

  She shrugged. “Okay, maybe a little, but only because I was frustrated and thought you weren’t interested.”

  “See? All better. I’m interested. And now that I know what you’re capable of, I’m way past interested.” He kissed her lips gently, something he hadn’t done yet that morning. He’d just driven her over the edge in the best orgasm of her life without once kissing her. And she knew he could kiss. He’d made her head spin Monday night when he’d taken her lips in his bed.

  “What am I capable of?” she asked against his mouth.

  His smile spread wider. “Far more than you can imagine.”

  She shivered, realizing she was still naked and he still had jeans on. “You’re a Dom, aren’t you?”

  He froze for a moment, and then his smile spread wider. “Figured that out did you?”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult.”

  “I am. And I don’t normally go this far with a woman without discussing my preferences first. I’ll probably kick myself later when my big head takes over.”

  “Why? I think you made yourself pretty clear even though you didn’t come out and say it.”

  “Still. Not my style.” He kissed her lips briefly and set his forehead against hers. “I’m a Dom. Yes. I’m demanding in the bedroom. I like compliance from my women. I’m also a pretty good judge of character, and I never would have taken you there if I didn’t think you liked it.”

  “Loved it.”

  “Exactly.” He smiled again.

  “So now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…”

  He glanced down at her chest, ignoring her, and then let one finger trail from her shoulder to her breast to stroke over a nipple. “I love the way you repeatedly shake in my arms and the way goose bumps rise across your skin when I touch you.”

  She flushed.

  “And the deep red that tinges your cheeks and chest when you’re embarrassed.” He released her nipple. “As much as I love the heels and the skirt and see-through blouse, those won’t be necessary for the gym or Katie’s clinic.” He took her hand and led her from the room, down the hall, and into her bedroom.

  Curiosity forced her to follow him. Did he think he could also dress her to his standards?

  “Show me your favorite jeans.” He sat on the edge of her bed, shocking her with his calmness.

  She stared at him for a moment. Was he seriously not going to fuck her now? Her legs still trembled from the intensity of the orgasm she’d had and the need to have another one. This time with his cock inside her.

  Instead, she padded across the room, hyper-aware of her nudity, and grabbed the soft denim jeans off a hanger in her closet.

  He nodded. “Ditch the heels. Put those on.”

  She stepped out of her shoes and turned toward her dresser to get panties and a bra, but he stopped her.

  “Just the jeans, for now.”

  She hesitated, her heart pounding. And then she stuffed first one leg and then the other into the jeans and shrugged them up over her hips. She’d never worn any pants without at least a thong under them. The seam would rub her in all the wrong places and drive her bonkers all day.

  “Love those. Let me see the back.”

  She turned toward the doorway, her breasts swaying with every step. Desperate to put on a bra and shirt made her ball her hands into fists at her sides.

  “You’re uncomfortable.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not used to any of this.”

  “Any of what?”

  “Prancing around naked, wearing jeans without underwear…being told what to do…”

  “Do you feel that tightness in your belly? Low. Almost like cramps I’ve been told.”

  Jesus. Was he a mind reader? “Yes,” she muttered.

  “That’s arousal. I like it.” He stood and eased up behind her. When he stepped into her space, he lifted her arms over her head and held them there with one hand while he smoothed his other up her belly and over both breasts.

  She panted softly.

  “And I like knowing you’re wet for me, leaking into the denim. Hot and needy with the seam pressing against your pussy. Do this for me. Do it all day.”

  Do what?

  “Submit to me. Try it. I promise not to say or do anything anyone else would notice, but let me control you subtly. All day. I want to see if you like it. It’s important to me.”

  And then you’ll fuck me? she wanted to ask. Was this a test to see if she was truly submissive? It would appear he needed that in his life.

  Could she deliver? She wasn’t sure.

  He chuckled and set his lips on her shoulder to kiss her at the base of her neck. “You have no idea how sexy you are.” He released her and stepped back. “You choose a bra and a shirt. I’ll go make breakfast.”

  He left.

  He stepped from the room and left her standing there trying to catch her breath. Her hands were still lifted behind her head. Her nipples were sharp points reaching into the room.

  She lowered her arms and tried to focus. On anything.

  The dresser.

  It took several minutes, but finally she managed to make her way to the drawers and found a black bra. Lacy. Sexy. Her favorite.

  She put it on and then headed for the closet to choose a V-neck T-shirt. Also black. Tight.

  Shoes? He hadn’t mentioned shoes, but obviously she would need them. So she chose comfortable boots with a lower heel that zipped up her calves and hugged them.

  She turned around and headed into the bathroom. When she’d emerged the first time, she’d been ready to start the day. But God only knew what her makeup and hair looked like by now.

  It wasn’t too bad, surprisingly. She touched up both and then made her way back toward the kitchen and the man who’d rocked her world at his own personal expense and intended to do so all day.

  Could she survive this test?

  Because that’s what it was. A test. A test to see how submissive she was.

  And she truly didn’t know the answer.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nikolav set his hand on Belinda’s lower back as they entered the gym—possessive, controlling. “Just warning you. The place is filled with testosterone, and it smells like it.”

  She giggled. “I think I can handle it.”

  He held the door open and let her in. “You called your boss, right?”

  “Yep. While you were in the shower. He knows what I’m doing.” She wanted to roll her eyes, but feared he might not like that plan.

  “Everything?” he teased.

  She flushed. “Well, no. Just the part about interviewing your friends.”

  She saw Mikhail in the ring with a man nearly the same height as him but darker skin and gorgeous script running along his back she assumed was Russian. Neither of them noticed her as Nikolav led her to a group of chairs against one wall.

  Nikolav nodded toward the two of them. “You’ve met Mikhail. The guy with
the Russian tattoos on his back is Leo. I’ll send them over to talk to you when they get a break.”

  She nodded as she lowered onto a chair. “Where are Sergei and Ivan this morning?”

  “We take turns. They’re at the clinic where Katie works and Alena volunteers.”

  “Ah. So all of you are bossy and controlling.”

  He narrowed his gaze and leaned down to flatten his palms on the wall on either side of her face. “Yep. And don’t you forget it, either. We like our women alive and safe.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. Shit. Why was it so fucking hot every time he got all alpha?

  When he stood, returning her ability to see to the sides, another man stood next to them, smirking. “I assume this is the famed Belinda Gallo.” He held out a hand. “Abram Gromov. I manage these hooligans.”

  She took his hand, smiling at how warm he was. Nothing like what she had imagined. He was clearly as fit as anyone in the gym even though he had to be about fifty. Balding and wrinkled from too much time in the sun in his youth. “Nice to meet you.”

  He took a seat next to her and turned to face Nikolav. “You just gonna stand there, or are you planning to work out today? I promise not to poach your woman. Go.” He pointed toward the far corner of the room. “There’s a set of weights over there with your name on them.”

  Nikolav scowled, but he turned and walked away.

  “I’m betting he doesn’t let many people talk to him like that.”

  “Only me. Not taking that bet. And only because he knows I’m half kidding. I wouldn’t feign to tell any of these guys what to do. They’ve been fighting for years. They know the drill. I sometimes jump in the ring with them and toss my weight around as if they haven’t heard my pointers ten thousand times before, but it’s all for show.” He grinned and winked.

  She adored him. No wonder Nikolav and his friends came to Chicago to work for him. “How well do you know each other? I thought Nik and Sergei just moved here a few weeks ago.”

  “They did, but I’ve known them for years in the circuit. I’ve spent my share of time in Vegas. And I’ve seen them fight more times than I could possibly count.”

  Not surprising.

  “Plus Mikhail has been here a year. Dmitry was here six months before he fled the country. And Leo got here six months ago just before Dmitry left.”

  “I’m still trying to get them all straight.” She wasn’t kidding. They were all tall and huge. Maybe if she memorized tattoos instead of hair color… She set her gaze on Mikhail and Leo in the ring. “So it’s like boxing?”

  “No. Not really. It’s mixed martial arts. It’s more of a combo of boxing and wrestling, but without the rules.”

  She gasped and shot him a glance. “No rules?”

  He shrugged. “This is the underground. Almost anything goes. In sanctioned MMA fights, there are specific rules. In the underground, not nearly as many. But it’s wise not to piss off the opponent if you don’t want him to jump you in the alley after the fight.” He chuckled, but she wasn’t sure how serious he was.

  She watched Mikhail throw a right hook at Leo, who jumped back and fell into the ropes on the side of the ring. Wincing, she asked, “How do they keep from falling out?”

  “They don’t fight real matches in a boxing ring like this one.” He pointed across the room. “See that fenced area?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s where MMA is fought. Eight sides. No escape.”

  She cringed. It looked brutal.

  “You gonna come watch this Saturday?”

  “Oh. I don’t know. Nikolav hasn’t said anything yet. Are any of the guys fighting?”

  He chuckled. “Nikolav.”

  “Oh,” she repeated. Interesting. “Maybe.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to see something like that, but Bossy might have other ideas.

  Would she still find herself under his thumb by the weekend? She couldn’t imagine it, but she also couldn’t imagine breaking the weird spell he had on her, either.

  “I’m sure some of the others will be here, and you can watch with them. They’ll show you the ropes.”

  She nodded. Maybe if Haley was coming…

  Abram stood.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his.

  He furrowed his brow. “Stay safe, Belinda. I don’t like what I’m hearing. These guys are like sons to me. I don’t want anything to happen to any of them or their friends.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  “I know Nikolav can be brooding and moody and demanding at times, but he means well. And he won’t let anything happen to you if you listen to his advice.”

  How much did Abram know? Wow. “Okay.”

  He smiled and then headed toward Nikolav in the back corner where he was lying on his back, bench-pressing more weight than she thought humanly possible.

  She watched everything that happened all over the room for over an hour before Mikhail and Leo took off their gloves and ducked between the ropes of the ring.

  Mikhail waved at her and held up a finger. And then he headed for a door on the back wall. Locker room?

  Leo stepped over to her, smiling. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m disgusting.”

  She smiled in return.

  “I’m Leo.”

  “Belinda.”

  “Heard about you. Sorry you got mixed up with the likes of Nikolav,” he teased.

  “Not sure I am,” she responded.

  He smiled wider. “Well, then.”

  He set his hands on the back of a chair in front of her and leaned forward. “Nik told me you’re coming over to the clinic later. I’ll meet you guys there.”

  “Okay.”

  He righted himself. “You don’t look like a reporter.”

  She tipped her head. “What’s a reporter supposed to look like?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Pencil behind your ear. Notepad always at hand. Glasses?” He chuckled.

  “Uh-huh. I’ll try to perfect the look next time. I didn’t realize I was failing so miserably.” She liked him. Seemed she liked all of Nikolav’s friends.

  He waved as he walked toward the same room in the back as Mikhail came out.

  And moments later, she found herself sitting next to her college friend’s boyfriend. When she’d first met Mikhail Saturday night over drinks and snacks at Haley’s apartment, she never would have expected to find herself sitting in a gym four days later watching giant men punch each other.

  Four days ago she hadn’t been aware Haley was dating anyone. She also hadn’t known her friend had been abducted and held in some drug lab for two weeks before Mikhail rescued her.

  She immediately acknowledged how and why Haley had fallen hard and fast for the blond god Haley nicknamed Thor. He was a gentle giant. Although, now that she watched his profile as he glanced at the ring where Nikolav was climbing in with another man Belinda didn’t know, she wondered if Mikhail was as domineering as Nikolav.

  Probably.

  Definitely. She just hadn’t noticed the signs before. He didn’t let Haley out of his sight. He hadn’t been fond of her returning to work. He had a tendency to keep one hand on her at all times.

  And the look on Haley’s face the entire evening Saturday had spoken for itself. She was head over heels for the man.

  Dominance must run in the Russian blood.

  And Haley Sullivan, a friend she’d known for years, was therefore submissive. Interesting.

  Was Katie too? The doctor?

  Abram ducked between the ropes of the ring and took up a position next to the man Belinda didn’t know. He stood with his feet wide, one arm across his chest and the other cupping his chin and tapping his lips. The guy looked younger, maybe early twenties. He was obviously about to be the recipient of instruction.

  “You look good today. No more effects of the food poisoning?” Mikhail began.

  She shook her head, turning to face him. “No. It lasted about twelve hours and left me starving and queasy, but I was
back to normal by Monday.”

  “That’s good. I’m sorry you got sick, though.”

  “Me too, but now I’m more curious than ever about why me and not you.”

  “I’m sure Nikolav explained some of what’s been going on, but Katie understands it better. And she’s looking forward to meeting you this afternoon. It’s all medical confusion to me. And frankly makes me cringe to think about it.”

  Belinda dropped the subject.

  “Nikolav said you were all born in Russia.”

  “Yep. Never even met each other. All of us were dropped off at orphanages around the country as young children and babies. I’m the only one who was old enough to remember anything, and I was four, so even that is vague.”

  She hated knowing they were abandoned. “And Alena’s your sister?”

  “Yeah. She was only two. Remembers nothing, but I remember our mother, or at least I think I do.”

  “I’m so sorry. That must be hard.”

  He shrugged. “I’m over it. It’s not that uncommon in Russia. Life was very difficult in the late eighties. It was easier to leave children at a state institution where they stood a chance of being fed and living to adulthood. Watching a child starve on the streets must be impossible. I’ve forgiven my parents. I’m sure they had no other choices at the time.”

  She fought back tears. He didn’t need them. Not now. “And there’s no way to locate any of your parents and reconnect?”

  He smiled. “You are a journalist, aren’t you?”

  She blushed, hoping she hadn’t insulted him.

  “No worries. Trust me. If there was a way, we would have done so years ago. But orphanages didn’t keep records, or if they did, they were poor ones. Many of the same orphanages aren’t in existence now. And the majority of kids were left on the doorstep with no information, not even a birth date.”

  How awful.

  “You could dig, but you won’t find anything. Trust me.”

  Would Nikolav be angry if she did?

  “I have a flash memory, more like a photo in my mind, of a woman leaning over me with tears in her eyes as she kissed my cheek and then held it for a moment before turning away and leaving me and Alena standing on the sidewalk. I held my sister’s hand as she squirmed to get free and run on her tiny toddler legs after the woman I presume was my mother. I never let her go.”