Undercover Intentions

by Sapphire Knight

  “I’m sorry, I do not know his name. We were told to call him Master and Mr. Capelloni, except in public. Then Mr. Capelloni is just Yema. They like to be casual at the auctions and formal when away from everyone.”

  “I see.” Victor sighs, pouring himself a glass of something clear. Beau tugs me lightly to sit on the sofa next to him. It’s fancy with pretty grey material trimmed with wood along the bottom. “I got a call this morning, Beau; Viktor will be here either this evening or tomorrow.”

  “He’s coming here?”

  “Yes, he wants to meet Sasha and discuss your plan to move forward with the others.”

  “Okay. I’m just surprised to hear he’s okay with coming here and doesn’t want me to go to him.”

  He sighs again, clearly feeling every bit of his age. “I told him he was welcome, but to leave Tatkiv at home. I’m not in the mood to deal with my brother’s wild child. Viktor is always welcome; I’ll stay away if you two wish when you speak about business.”

  “Tatkiv?” I turn to Beau.

  He nods. “It’s my cousin Tate. Tate is short for Tatkiv. He has like three or four different names he answers to. His father did that when he was younger so fewer people would know who he is. Figured it’d keep him safer that way being so close to the organization.”

  “Oh. Like the Master?”

  “Yes, we know he has another name, but not his real name. It makes it harder for us to find out who he really is. And Viktor is Tate’s brother, they’re both my cousins.”

  “That makes sense. Will you ever tell me your real name? The one you were born with?”

  “Maybe someday.” His mouth tilts down a touch, obviously not too fond of it. He’s lucky, though at least he knows his real name. I’m still confused if Sasha is mine from my mother or the Master. I should know it, but after so long, it’s hard to remember. I learn to answer to whatever they call me, and most of the time it was just girl.

  “Is Mr. O’Kassidy leaving today?” his father asks, breaking Beau’s intense stare on me.

  “Yeah, he has to get back to his business, you know how it is.”

  “Will you have protection at the next event then, without him here?”

  “Yeah, Finn said he’ll come with me next time too, or else I have the men Viktor sent with me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. It makes me proud to see you close with your cousins, working with them. Be sure to let Susan know when you’re ready for lunch and she’ll take care of you. I’m going to make a call to the doctor now that Sasha is up and moving around. We want her on the quickest road to recovery.”

  “Spaseeba,” he replies, and Victor leaves the room, foregoing his glass tumbler. I love hearing them speak Russian, even if it’s just random bits. It reminds me of being home.

  “They speak Italian so we can’t understand them,” I say out of the blue, remembering a small detail and thinking it might be helpful.

  “You’re certain it’s Italian?”

  “Yes, when I was a child, the Master would let me ask questions sometimes and one thing I asked was what language they spoke. It didn’t seem familiar to me. The Master told me it was Italian so I couldn’t understand them. He spoke to us in English. We all learned English because he said most men that would buy us would come from America or else speak English. The men I saw were from everywhere though. I think they told us that so we would never know what they were talking about.”

  “That makes sense. There are plenty of times we’ll speak Russian too, so others don’t understand us as well.”

  “It reminds me of home; I enjoy hearing you.”

  “Yeah? Are you really Russian? That wasn’t something Yema threw up there for the show?”

  “No. I am Russian. It’s one of the few things I’m sure of.”

  “If you give me your mother’s name, I can see if I can locate her for you.”

  Beau offering to find her for me is the nicest thing anyone has ever done. Not giving me food or medicine or clothes or even sleep. To know he’s kind enough to find my mother only makes me want to belong to him even more. I wish I still had a mother alive to find, but I know she’s gone. I’d still feel her warmth if her heart was beating.

  “You are the sweetest, Beau.” I smile and lean over, kissing his cheek. He pulled away from my kiss earlier, but I can’t stop myself from kissing him in some way. Is it wrong that I want to touch him? I don’t usually care for it, but his tenderness has me wanting to be close to him. How can you not want to express gratitude to someone like him?

  “You have to stop doing that, Sasha,” he scolds softly, as if he wants it to happen but has to say these things.

  “Why?” My muscles grow stiff. He’s kind yet won’t let me touch him. He’ll hold my hand, but won’t let me kiss him. He lets me talk freely and ask questions, yet he holds back. I know I shouldn’t expect anything from him, but men like to touch me. Why doesn’t he? Why is he so confusing?

  “Because I already told you we can’t do this.” His head shakes, and it causes my chest to clench tightly.

  “No, I can’t do this!” I respond in a sad huff, tears pooling in my eyes. He’s already seen me cry. I don’t want to be weak in front of him anymore. He allows me to speak to him however I wish, and it’s strange, but refreshing, not bottling my frustrations up completely like I’m used to. Standing, I turn away. “I’m tired.”

  It’s a lie. I can’t handle him pushing me away anymore right now. The denial, the detachment, hurts too badly coming from someone like him.

  “I’ll walk you to your room so you can rest.”

  Ever the gentleman, he makes it even worse by offering.

  “Thank you, but I don’t want to push you any further. I can find my way,” I reply stubbornly and leave out of the sitting room as quickly as I can. It’s not very fast with my sore thigh and tired body, but I do the best I can to appear strong in front of him. I can cry in the room I’m staying in without him seeing me confused and upset. He’s seen me weak enough already.

  I was nearly asleep when my bed covers shift, the mattress dipping under pressure from a petite body sliding into the bed with me. It has my muscles wound tight, as people aren’t normally able to sneak up on me so easily. I must’ve been leaning more toward being asleep than I’d thought for me not to hear the door open or click as it closed. That’s not good. I have to stop letting myself get too tired to stay alert, even in sleep.

  “What are you doing?” My voice is loud and gruff out into the silent night.

  “I wanted to lay with you.” Her voice is soft…meek and has my groin tightening with lustful thoughts.

  “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Please let me stay; I won’t bother you. My room is much bigger than the space I’m used to. I’ve never been alone so much before.”

  Christ and she begs me; it’ll cripple a man’s resolve quick.

  Fuck. I didn’t even think of that; I assumed she’d want as much privacy as possible. It turns out I was wrong—again.

  “Okay,” I reply absently, acutely aware of her presence in my bed, merely a foot away from me. She’s making it harder and harder to keep up with my resolve. I could so easily touch her right now, and in the middle of the night when I’m full of sleepiness, it has my defenses down even more. I can’t hold myself back from her heat if she comes at me. I’m afraid I’ll be too harsh or else give in completely.

  “Are you all right?” I ask after a moment of tense silence. I feel like I could cut the tension with a knife, she has my body so wound up.

  “Yes, Beau; I like it better in here.”

  I hold back the groan of hearing my name leave her lips. I’m a fucking dog for thinking of her this way. “Good. Night, Sasha.”

  “Goodnight, Beau.” She yawns and snuggles into my side.

  It’s going to be the longest night of my life, keeping myself from touching her like I dreamt about since I first laid eyes on her.

  It becomes our nightly routine for three
straight weeks until I’m called back into work and am forced to fly back home to California. The funny thing is, when I got there, I realize that I hadn’t missed it like I normally do when I’m away. It was nice to drive my Jeep, but the apartment was just that. It didn’t feel like home. The East is beginning to call to me more and more. My family, the humidity…ahh, hell, the girl…

  I put in for leave and lie to my chief about my father being sick and needing to stay in Tennessee longer. He doesn’t hesitate to approve it because he trusts me. He knows I wouldn’t normally ask unless it was important. More lying and now to my boss, a man I respect. When did my life become this, where I’d rather be on this side of the fence than the other?

  Two more weeks of getting time with her and two more weeks to try and stop this sex trafficking that’s so widely accepted by the various crime families. If only time were in my favor.

  “We have to stop, Sasha,” I grumble against her mouth as I pull away from her. She snuggled into me, and I couldn’t help myself. When her head tilted up to me, reflecting in the moonlight, my lips met hers on their own accord. My resolve dissipated with that one look from her. She’s wearing me thin—a man can only hold off for so long.

  I was gone back to Cali for two days to take care of work. I missed having her snuggled up to me every night. My body’s grown used to sharing a bed with her and the past two nights I barely slept a wink, tossing and turning. She consumed my thoughts the entire time. I know I’m becoming too close to her, but no matter how many times I scold myself, I pull her right back to my body when I’m with her.

  Now it seems as if my body wants even more from her, the sleeping beside her, not merely enough to satiate my cravings for her warmth. My mind knows I shouldn’t be doing this. I’ve been around her here at my father’s for three weeks, slowly chipping away at her layers and she’s fucking magnificent. Utterly beautiful and kind on the inside, as well as the outside and it’s dangerous. She can easily become my undoing, my weakness, my downfall. I need to be the one to protect her, to save her.

  I was going to go back to work for a while and save up more vacation time. But then my father called me the first night I was away, telling me that Sasha was refusing to eat with me gone. Naturally, I became extremely worried, especially the next morning when Victor called me yet again saying she’d turned away breakfast. Her body doesn’t need to have her causing more harm to it by refusing to feed it the nutrients it’s lacked for God knows how long. It’s amazing she survived as long as she did. I doubt they gave the women regular medical care or anything like that.

  I knew I needed to get back here ASAP. She ate dinner with us this evening thankfully, even if it wasn’t much. My father’s still furious over it all, but it was a start, and I’m grateful she relented.

  She’ll eat again in the morning, I promised him. If not, he wants to bring the doctor in again and look at other options. She won’t like those, but then no one would enjoy being force-fed I imagine.

  The last thing I want is for someone poking and prodding, making her uncomfortable. She’s been through enough. Obviously, I’d just left her alone too soon. My father and Susan are here, but they aren’t much when it comes to company. It doesn’t bother me much, as I’m used to the solidarity, but Sasha is used to a constant presence. Everything was always mapped out for her, and now she has this sort of free reign. I didn’t understand at first, but now I get it, that it could be overwhelming having all these choices to make out of nowhere.

  “I don’t want to stop. I want you close,” she urges, her voice husky with need. My mouth meets hers, this time even hotter as her velvety tongue swirls with mine, tangling in a delicious mating dance. My hands weave into her blonde locks that’ve grown shinier with her time here, and her delicate palms find my bare chest.

  We kiss for what feels like forever, and I pull myself away from her again. I have to stop it now, or else there’ll be no turning back. I’ll take her, and I’ll regret it in the morning. I’d love every moment of being with her, of feeling her intimately, but I know she’ll think of me like all the others and that thought alone I can’t stand. I have to be different; she has to know inside that she deserves better.

  “Shh…enough, Sasha. Sleep, moy baby.”

  My lips breeze over her forehead in a chaste kiss, and I turn my body away from her. Giving her my back is the safest option right now for the both of us. My cock’s so flipping hard I’m liable to poke my eye out if I’m not careful. I don’t want her discovering me so turned on. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable in any way. If this were to ever happen and that’s a big if, she’d have to be one hundred percent sure it’s what she wanted. I’m nothing in this; it’s all her and what she’s comfortable with. I refuse to cheapen her or make her feel used in any way. I won’t be like anyone from her past. She deserves so much better than that. Until that point, if it ever comes, she needs a goddamn chastity belt to keep my cock in check.

  The memories and information she’s shared over the past few weeks makes me sick inside for her. I don’t treat her any differently because of them either. I think she was afraid that I would, but if anything I look at her with more awe than I had before.

  How a woman can survive such a hellish life is beyond me. She’s broken, but she’s also so damn strong, and one day she’ll figure that out. Those men—if you can even call them that—broke her, but she lived and prevailed. I’ll see the end to them one way or another if it’s the last thing I can do for her.

  Eventually, I drift off to sleep, but not sure for how long. It feels like I’ve merely closed my eyes, but it must’ve been longer for sleep to be filling me so strongly. I’m on my back, my boxers are down, and there’s a hand wrapped around my length, steadily working me over.

  So good—so fucking good—is what it is.

  I’d almost believe it was a dream if I couldn’t feel her excited breaths against my ribs, turning me on even more. Her head is resting on my side, right next to my abs, so fucking close to my groin; I feel like I’m vibrating. She has my body so heated with pent-up need. Even my toes are curled. Asleep or not, my body certainly responds to her touch. She could own me if she wanted, if she pushed me enough.

  “What are you…?” I say gruffly into the night, trying to clear my head enough to process everything and think rationally. That’s not happening, though; she has me floating on cloud nine.

  “Shhh.” She responds in the same fashion I do to her so often, her breath blowing over my stomach even more as her hand grips me, moving up and down in a rhythmic circle.

  She just shushed me, and she’s jerking my cock like she’s trying to milk me or something. I’m going to spill everywhere if she keeps it up, twisting me deliciously.

  Her motions are determined, and I feel the need building inside me like a volcano. I’ve been yanking on my dick every day for the past three weeks like a man possessed and none of those times felt remotely close or as good as right now with her doing it. At one point I was afraid of getting friction burn, or that I’d eventually tug on the fucker so much, it’d stop working. It undeniably works right now. She’s not having any difficulty getting me to stand at attention, saluting her.

  It’s working so well, in fact, that I’m nearly ready to explode. After wanting her for so long, my calf’s tense up and I feel as if I could shoot to the ceiling.

  “Baby, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop that.”

  At my words, her head drops below the blanket draped across my abdomen, and her hot little mouth wraps around the head of my cock. It’s like a goddamn eruption. Just one powerful suck from her vacuum grip lips and I’m coming so much; I’m afraid she’ll choke on it. What’s more impressive is her swallowing every drop I have. A loud groan leaves me, rumbling from my chest in pure bliss.

  I don’t even know what to say. I feel like I got overly excited and just came in five minutes. Not very impressive on my part, but no doubt mind-blowing on hers.

  “Now I can go to sleep.�
�� She sighs, placing tender kisses on my stomach. If she’s not careful, she’ll wake the beast again, only this time a quick tug job won’t do it. It takes some long, hard fucking to get rid of that one and if it doesn’t happen, I’ll damn sure not be getting a wink of sleep.

  I fall asleep, still panting, mind blissed out.

  She wakes me like this for a week straight, every single night. She not only climbs into bed next to me but wraps her hot little mouth around my length, waking me in the most delicious way. And each night she won’t let me touch her. Fuck, if I don’t want to. She has me thinking about her each waking moment of the day and then dreaming about her when I close my eyes at night. I’m enraptured with her every move, her every thought she shares with me.

  It’s beyond frustrating; I want to feel her all over and bring her pleasure too. But I get it. I don’t really, I never will, but I’m patient, and I’ll stay that way as long as needed. Doing everything she wants, not like I can hold myself back at this point, things have changed. Our relationship’s grown, evolving into a friendship with an attraction so strong I’m sure it’ll light the sheets on fire one night.

  Each day she eats, and we go for our walk, and as the days pass, she grows more beautiful, more outspoken with me. She essentially blooms in front of my eyes, and I’m coming to the conclusion that at the end of this whole thing, I don’t think I’m going to be able to let her go and that makes me a fucking bastard. She doesn’t deserve to be a kept woman; she deserves more—freedom. I want her freedom to be with me, one of these nights my feelings tipped past the point of return.

  Now, I not only want justice for the men doing these horrifying things, but I want to become dark. I want to become so fucking twisted I hurt them for what they’ve done to Sasha. The others matter, but I’m falling for her and so help me, I don’t want the law to take care of this one, this time. I want to do it; I want to dole out my own punishment for crimes committed.

  It’s Friday again, and she begs me not to go, but I do. I leave her to become closer to the men I want to hurt, and I get out of the God awful auction with seven women this time. Yema’s growing comfortable with me, though it takes everything in me not to put a bullet in his skull just yet. It’ll happen; I just have to remain patient for the time being.