by Sara Hubbard
“Not if you mean it,” I tease.
He grins down at me before kissing me again. “I meant it.”
I push his pants and his boxers down and slide my hand up and down his shaft. His pants fall to the shower floor as he closes his eyes and tips his head forward. “Instead of telling me to get out of the water, you should have told me you were worried.”
“Yes.”
The tip of his cock grows wet, and I smear it over him with my thumb. I slide my hand up and down again, this time with a firmer and more punishing grip. My lady parts throb with desire. I want him inside of me, calling out my name, but I want him to beg for me tonight.
I lower myself to my knees and flick my tongue out to taste him. He makes a guttural noise that screams need. I swirl my tongue around him before taking the length of him in my mouth. He touches his hand to the back of my head and gently moves his hand with the movement of my head.
“Fuck,” he says.
I want control tonight, and I want him to give it to me.
I bob my head, dragging my tongue along the length of him, over and over, licking and tasting. I take him deeper each time until I feel him at the back of my throat. I know he’s satisfied when his other hand curls into a fist that rests on the tiled shower wall.
I chuckle, him still in my mouth.
“No,” he says. “Don’t laugh, or I’ll come right now.”
I pull away, careful to pull my bottom lip over my teeth as I drag them along his underside. “Maybe I want you to.”
“No. Not before you come.”
“You’re such a giver,” I tease.
I grip him with my hand as I push up off of my knees and stand in front of him.
“Turn around,” he commands.
“That sounds like an order.”
He kicks off his shoes and removes the rest of his clothing. Then he clutches my cheeks and kisses me hard. I lose reason and purpose. There is only him, his body, and his tongue. I respond in kind, pressing myself against him to feel his erection against me.
When we break away, we’re both panting. “I need this,” he says. “Give me this.” He pleads with his eyes. “Turn around.”
Though I don’t understand, I do as he asks. Because as much as I want control in this moment, it doesn’t matter to me. Not really. And somehow, on a deeper level, it does matter to him.
Slowly, I turn and put my hands on the wall. I arch my back and bend down to give him easy access. I feel him against me. He caresses my ass with his hands before he grips himself and circles my entrance. My muscles constrict before they swell with need and open up to him. I back up, begging for him take me.
And he responds.
He enters me slowly, releasing a long sigh. Then he slides inside of me again and again. Still slow. Before something primal overcomes him, and he drives into me, filling me, and with his hands gripping me tightly, he finds a quick, hard rhythm that brings me to the edge. Everything inside of me shatters to pieces, and I come apart in his strong hands.
After he’s spilled himself inside of me, he grabs onto my shoulders, helping me straighten. He wraps his arms around me, trapping mine. I lean my head back and sigh with satisfaction.
“I missed you today,” he says, surprising me.
Because he says things like this so infrequently, it chokes me up every time he does. “I missed you, too.”
We weren’t careful last night or today, and we should have been. He never brought it up, and if he cares, he doesn’t mention it.
“Should we have used something?” I ask.
“Which time?” he says. There’s a smile in his voice.
“Both.”
“Besides you, I’ve never had sex without a condom.” I believe him because, when we dated before, he was adamant about it. I’m not sure what’s changed.
“I haven’t either. Just so you know…You don’t have to worry. I can’t have kids.”
I feel his body tense. And I wait. I want him to ask me. To engage. Please, Maxim. Though it takes a minute, he finally says, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve had a long time to get used to it.”
“A long time?”
The shower beats on my flesh, and I close my eyes. “I had an accident when I was young.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He squeezes me a touch harder. It’s almost imperceptible, but I feel it, though I’m not sure if he means for me to.
I shut off the shower and turn in toward him.
“Hang on.” He climbs out and grabs a towel. He gives it to me before grabbing one for himself. It’s those little details I find myself looking for now, when I know words are hard for him. But don’t actions speak louder?
“Thank you,” I say. He pulls me out and towels me off. “I think I can manage,” I say with a chuckle.
“It gives me an excuse to touch you again,” he says with a wink.
Playful, Maxim. I don’t see him much lately, and I really miss him.
“Why do you look so sad?” he asks me.
I shake my head. “No reason.”
* * *
I insist on checking on Yara before we go to bed. She’s sound asleep, snoring a little louder than usual. I chuckle at her and gently close the door. When I return to the bathroom, Maxim is wiping up the water on the floor and ringing out his clothes.
“I can do that tomorrow.”
“No, it won’t take long.”
“Then let me help you.”
He protests at first, but I ignore him. When he realizes he can’t stop me, he kind of gives up.
“What did you think when you first saw my apartment?” I ask him.
He pauses, grinning.
I didn’t know then, or at all while we dated, how neat he is. Had I known, I might have kept my apartment a little cleaner.
He continues ringing out his pants and then puts his clothes and the towels in the hamper. He walks over to me and tucks one of my curls behind my ear. “I was going to hire you a maid.”
I slap his chest. “No, really. Be honest.”
“I am being honest.”
“It wasn’t a dealbreaker?”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t want to run away and never see me again?”
“Oh, dealbreaker.” He makes a face as if trying to wrap his head around what that might mean in Russian. “No. Now, the way you chew, that could have been a dealbreaker.”
“How do I chew?”
“Loudly,” he says with a straight face.
I scrutinize his face and see those slight wrinkles around his warm eyes. “You’re joking.”
He finally smiles. “Maybe.”
I pull him in for a kiss.
“This is how you respond to an insult. Should I do it more?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not if you want to have more sex.”
“Then I’ll have nothing but compliments.”
I laugh as I walk away. After a bit of encouragement, I convince him to come to bed. We settle side by side, arm touching arm, foot touching foot. I tip my head to the side to rest against his shoulder.
“I never asked if you want me to sleep here,” I say. “I think I took that for granted.”
“I want you here,” he says softly.
I let out a long yawn. The swimming really left me sleepy and exhausted. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“When I asked you earlier if something changed, you didn’t answer.”
“That’s not a question.”
I growl at him.
“It’s nothing.” He smooths my hair away from my face and neck. “I’m handling it. You are not a prisoner, Luna, but I need you to stay inside. Just a little while longer.”
“Okay.”
“And I need you to remember, if you go out, you have to remember to alarm the house when you leave and after you come back in.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’
t even think about that.”
“It’s okay. But you can’t forget.”
“I won’t.” I lift my head and meet his eyes.
He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip.
“You look far away again. Your mind is always so busy. I can’t even imagine. It’s like you’re always planning for something. Or is it worry?”
“Worry?” He makes a face and breathes in and out softly. “Perhaps that’s it.”
“What do you worry most about?”
“Do I need to say it?”
“No.” I ache for him. Even as close as he is to me, I ache to be closer. It’s so strong and impossible to fight. We’re so different, and we still know so little about each other, and yet, my need for him feels almost desperate. Like we’ve been broken into all these puzzle pieces, and I’m still incomplete with his pieces. Is it chemical? Can I blame it on that? Or is it fate?
“You didn’t ask for any of this,” he says softly. “I’m going to do everything I can to get you your life back. You understand?”
“At what cost?”
“You let me worry about that.”
I let my head rest back on his shoulder. My stomach uneasy, I have questions on my tongue ready to be asked, but I keep my mouth shut. It’s an awful thing to know someone you care for deeply does really bad things. And it’s even more awful when you decide to ignore it and pretend like it’s nothing.
Chapter 20
Maxim: Jab, jab, cross. Uppercut, uppercut.
“Good. Again,” Niko says.
He holds his padded hands up while I hit him again and again, each time with more force and more determination. We’ve been at this an hour, and I’m not tired. I’m fired up, and I need to keep going.
“Okay, I think that’s good.”
“No, I want more.”
He lowers his hands and shakes his head. “I’m an old man, Maxim. Why don’t you get rid of some of that energy on a punching bag?”
I sigh and roll my head.
“What’s gotten into you?” he says with a single raised eyebrow. “You’ve been distracted for weeks, and today you’re laser-focussed.”
He’s not wrong. I can feel the change in me, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s noticed it. My whole life, I’ve known what I don’t want, but never what I do. Or maybe, I’ve just never allowed myself to want something that is separate from my family. Duty, loyalty, and obligation have always guided me. Now I care less. Why?
That’s such a hard question to answer, but I know the answer involves Luna. She makes me want more. No, it’s not even that. She’s shown me there is more to this world than what I’ve accepted. She gives me hope, peace, and clarity. I want nothing else when she’s with me except to have her close beside me—or better—to be buried deep inside of her. And maybe a little something extra—something that’s mine. Perhaps my own business.
“You put this business up for sale yet?” I ask Niko.
He removes the padding from his hands. “Nah, not yet. I’m still holding out, hoping word will get around and maybe I’ll find the right person.”
“What about me?”
He stares at me, dumbfounded. He props his hands on his hips and lifts a hand to scrub his face and hair. “You?”
I nod and hold out my gloved hands. He unstraps my wrists, and I pull a glove off with my teeth before removing the other with my hand.
“You’re serious?” he asks.
“Deadly.”
“Walk with me.”
He ambles to the edge of the ring, and I follow. We slide through the ropes and head for his office on the second floor. It has a large window that overlooks the entire gym. The layout here is perfect, and I love the bird’s-eye view from his office. This place is a part of me, and it’s helped shape me into the man I am—perhaps a much better man than I would have been without it. I can’t imagine someone else running this place or changing it in any way.
I didn’t really think about buying it when Niki told me about it. The thought came to me last night while I held Luna in my arms. She slept soundly, smiling, cuddled into me with one of her delicate, soft hands on my bare chest. In that perfect moment, all of the noise that constantly plagued my mind kind of faded away. I thought about how I could keep her close and give her more of what she needed. I know I’m not the kind of person who can walk away from the life I lead, or from the person I am, but I do know that this gym grounds me like she can. And that owning the gym, and taking a step back from the family business, would mean I have more time for her.
He sits in his brown leather chair and picks up a stress ball. He squeezes it while fighting a smile. He might be as excited about the idea as I am, though I’m better at hiding it. “You have a lot on your plate.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t do it all. Not unless you get someone to manage this place. I don’t want someone I don’t know running it.”
“I’ll run it.”
“I think we know your father has other plans for you.”
“His plans aren’t mine. I want it.”
He shakes his head, and his smiles fades. It’s not a no. I think he’s just confused.
“I want it,” I say again, this time more forceful.
“What about your father’s businesses?”
“The strip club? The pawn stores?” I wave a hand through the air. “I don’t want any of it.”
“Your father and your mother will have something to say about that.”
I meet his eyes. “You let me worry about them. I have other plans for my future, and I’m not going to let anyone sway me. Not Sergei and certainly not my mother.”
“I’m not sure you can help it. If you become king, you won’t have the time for this place.”
I turn around and look down at some teenagers getting lessons on the mats. It reminds me of my time here with Niko. How attentive and supportive he was. After my uncle died, he was the man I came to for advice. Never my dad. It makes sense I could take this place from Niko and run it the way he’d want it to be run. I could do that for him—I want to do that for him—as much as I want to do this for myself. I interlace my hands and put them on my head.
“Between us, it won’t be me,” I say.
“To lead? His men favor you. They respect you. How can you say for sure it won’t be you when you’re very clearly the better choice?”
“Because Andrei wants it, and I’ll support him.”
“Bullshit.”
I turn back to Niko and nod. “I’ll support Andrei.”
He leans forward and props his elbows on his desk. “Why?”
I won’t tell him about my deal with Andrei. It doesn’t matter anyway because I think this might be better for everyone. He’s a carbon copy of my father, after all. “I told you I don’t want it.”
“Then God help this city.”
“I can’t be king just to keep it from him.”
“This is really what you want?” Niko asks.
I nod.
He takes a deep breath. “You might come to regret it.”
The possibility is there, but it doesn’t change my mind. “I don’t think so. I’ll still do some business on the side. I am who I am, after all. Maybe I take the reins on the underground fighting. I’ve always considered that, anyway.”
A smile builds on his lips. “If I had a kid, I would have given it to him. But since I don’t, I suppose you’re the next best thing. You want it, kid, it’s yours. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.”
“You were always willing to follow in your father’s footsteps. I have to wonder what’s changed. Or who changed you?”
“It has to be a woman,” I say with a smirk.
“It’s always a woman,” he says with a growl.
I laugh at that. “Who changed you?” I ask him. I’ve heard stories about him from way back when he was the man you called to take care of loose ends. Meticulous, he was. I don’t know how many he killed, but h
e never got caught. He was never even questioned. He was like a ghost. Which is why my father brought me to him when I asked to learn to fight. Who better than Niko Ivanov? But sometime, years ago, he bought this place and stopped his side business. I never asked him why.
He runs a hand through his silver hair and grins. “I think you know the answer to that.”
Maybe I’ve always known the answer. Yara. “Maybe you should tell her.”
“Maybe you shut the hell up and focus on your own love life.”
I drop my hands and laugh as I approach him. With my hand outstretched, I offer him my word.
“It won’t be cheap,” he says.
“No discount for a friend?”
“Friends pay more,” he says with a grin. “Hey, an old man has to have a retirement fund, yeah?”
* * *
I don’t usually go home for supper, but today when I head for the club, I find myself turning off the highway and driving toward my house. With the music playing some country song that Yuri would likely enjoy, I find myself humming. Humming. When have I ever hummed?
I should be stressed and consumed with thoughts about the gym and how I’m going to pay for it. While simultaneously figuring out a way to break the news to my father. Taking a step back will anger him, but refusing to take on his legacy? Well, he might kill me for that. Maybe. Yet, I don’t care. Like I told Niko, Sergei won’t sway me.
Just before I reach my house, I stop at a food truck with amazing fish tacos and freshly squeezed fruit juice. I pick up some food for Yara, Luna, and me. I’m not sure what Luna would like, so I grab her some different choices. Yara, on the other hand, I know well. She’s a sucker for condiments, and she loves her spice.
I pull into the driveway and park out front. Paper bags in hand, I go inside to the kitchen and put the food on the island. No one comes to greet me, but then, it’s not as if they’d expect me at this hour.
Upstairs, I hear the quiet hum of music or the television. I follow the sound, and it leads me to Yara’s room. The door is open and their laughter, Yara’s giggle and Luna’s whole-hearted belly laugh, brings a smile to my face. I don’t think I’ve ever had a television on in my house, and I think I have three of them. It strikes me odd that I don’t even know for sure.
