Distilled Duplicity

by Louise Furley

  Kiri’s eyes rounded watching the woman slide her body all over Naithon.

  His shoulders hunched, his head down, he forked up a piece of sausage and tossed it in his mouth. He glanced over at Kiri and saw her wide eyes watching Silver paw him. He shrugged Silver off and turned so half his back was to her. “Take off, Silver, I told you how it is now.”

  His rebuff did not deter her. “Sugarbear,” her coo deep and husky. “You know you want what I have between my legs. You know you like my big tits, and I can take it as rough as you dish it. My lips know how to work that big cock, that tramp, that puny child can’t give you what I can-”

  Kiri shoved her plate aside, hopped up and hastened out of the room.

  “Goddammit, Silver, I told you to knock it the fuck off,” Naithon threw a bunch of filthy Romanian oaths at her and shoved his chair back so hard it fell over with a clatter when he stood up. He left the room to find Kiri.

  She was running down the hall towards the salon area, he chased after her. Caught her in seconds and grasped her arm to stop her. “Kiri, wait-”

  Kiri yanked her arm to break his grip, he held on. “Let go of me. Your lover wants to- to do whatever it is that she can do so special for you.”

  His face darkened, Naithon loomed over her, more than a foot taller, 150 pounds heavier. His shoulders blocked her view of the hall. He gripped both her arms and squeezed them. “Stop it, Kiri. I am not with Silver, I told you-”

  “Yeah, sure. You said you wanted me, and also apparently every other woman in the vicinity! Let go of me!” She twisted to get away, he pinched her arms and shook her, snapping her to still her.

  Secretly, Naithon loved her little display of jealousy. He knew she wasn’t aware she was jealous, but the angry spark in her greens, the mulish set to her lips, her chin stuck out, damn she was hot. “Okay, just calm down now. If I want to fuck the entire building I will, it isn’t any of your business.”

  At her gasp, he sighed, weary of having to keep repeating himself. “But, Kiri, I do not lie. I don’t have to. I meant it when I said I want only you, I have zero desire to even look at another woman much less touch her. I chased after you, I am not back in the dining room sitting with Silver. Now, come with me, I have something to show you.”

  Ignoring her protests, he grasped her hand and took her to the stairs and they trod up to the second floor.

  Naithon led her down a hall with her expelling huffs of annoyance and tugging her arm to make him let go the whole way until he stopped at the last door. Opening it, he pulled her inside, and watched with delight as her eyes popped, mouth fell open in awe.

  The room was bright, well-lit because it was a corner room and garnered full windows on two sides. The view was of the pastures, the horses were out chowing on grass. Butterflies flit around them like colored winks. But it was the inside of the room that Kiri was marveling at. She took a wary step further inside, her mouth dropping open further.

  There were several tables, on them lined up were fancy boxes containing tubes of paint, paint brushes, tools, tubs, drawing tablets, colored pencils, cases of materials he had found out she needed to create her faux food, and more. Easels stood with blank canvasses ready for her to create her dreams.

  Eyes rounded in wonder she wandered around, looked at everything, gently touched everything. Then she saw the camera. It was like the one her father destroyed but a newer model. She frowned, then turned to look at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “I…don’t understand, Naithon?”

  She would not know how his heart fluttered when she finally said his name. He told her, “It is for you. I figured if you weren’t bored you wouldn’t run from me. This is your studio. You can work to your heart’s content. There,” he indicated a computer on a flat drawing desk, “you can take orders via online and scan your designs by email.”

  Kiri stood blinking, she turned a small circle. “I…I don’t understand,” she repeated.

  Sighing at her uncertainty, Naithon wound his fingers around her upper arm and turned her to face him. “Little lamb, I want you to be happy here. If you want to, you can help me design a tasting room for my vodka. It would be more like tasting the vodka in mixed drinks than just tasting the vodka. Currently, I produce five different kinds of liquor. I have a mixologist that is working with me creating unique cocktail recipes to blend with the vodka.”

  He waited, she just stared up at him, her lips still parted in surprise and bewilderment. “Kiri, I saw what you did for your father’s tasting room. You have talent, excellent taste in design and colors. You have a magical way of creating a space that is pleasant and interesting to all kinds of people, men, women, even kids. The outdoor patio you started is inviting and exciting. I want you to do the same for me. That is,” he paused, “if you want to.”

  “Mr. Adranokov, I don’t know what to say.”

  There she went again. How the hell was he supposed to fuck a girl that called him by his surname? Frowning at her regressing, he said, “You can say, ‘Naithon, thank you. I appreciate my gifts and look forward to working with you.’ ” Squeezing her arms, he threatened, “I would hate to christen your new studio with a spanking for calling me by my surname, eh?”

  Kiri grinned. “Okay, Boss.” She laughed gaily at his annoyed frown. “Thank you, Naithon, I can’t believe you did all this for me! When did you do it?”

  Hiding his thrill at her fey laughter that for the first time was directed at him, he tucked the tips of his fingers in his front jean’s pockets, shrugged as if it was nothing. “I have an acquaintance who is an artist. I called him, told him what I wanted. He had his assistant contact the proper shop and set up the overnight delivery.”

  “But, Naithon, it’s so much money, I can’t-”

  He held a hand up to stop her. “Don’t. Don’t say you can’t accept it. I owe you something for taking you from your home and your livelihood. Just accept it and enjoy it. Ja?”

  She strolled to the camera and touched it tenderly with just a finger. “Naithon, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  His voice was right behind her, low, deep, growly, “How about a kiss?”

  She froze, then sidestepped him and headed for the door.

  “Shit,” he swore and went after her. Quickly he stood in front of the door, blocking her exit. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” did he just say that for the second time in his life? “I’m not trying to buy your affections.”

  Kiri crossed her arms and angled a foot out in front of her. “You’re not?”

  Stiffening, he muttered, “Ja, well maybe. I just want to kiss you, Kiri, is that too much to ask? I haven’t grabbed you and forced you like I want to do. Just a kiss, it’s not that big of a deal, one kiss, Kiri. Not for the studio, just…because.”

  “The thing with you, is that you don’t stop at just a kiss.”

  Lips pulling in he had to agree. “That’s true. But I swear, right now, I will stop at a kiss. Or kisses. Okay?” Damn, was this him, Naithon Rámon Adranokov, big rough tough, ex-con lethal bossman begging, whining instead of just taking? Ja, she’d made a pussy out of him. If his friends saw this…and for only a lousy kiss. Yet he waited for her response.

  She glanced around the room, everywhere but at him. Then she centered her attention on Naithon. A tall, muscular, ill-tempered, dangerous man. His fair hair combed straight back, dark eyes glimmering white-hot heat at her. Already his jaw was dark with stubble. His head level, he stood, likely impatiently, staring down at her under those secretive hooded lids.

  He muttered, “I swear, you owe me nothing for the studio. You don’t have to kiss me, I just would like it.”

  He was handsome even with the scars, he would have been almost pretty without them. Except his features were male tough. She couldn’t believe he was asking her for a kiss when he could easily shove her to the floor and do whatever he pleased to her.

  “Kiri,” he said softly, “stop thinking. Just do it.”

  “You promise only a kiss?”


  “Ja, kisses.”

  “Naithon…”

  “Okay, okay, one damned kiss. Come here, already,” he commanded, his arms out.

  She hesitated, then took a shy small step to him and looked up.

  “Ah,” he rattled off a bunch of Romanian words and slipped his hand under her hair to grasp her nape and pulled her to him, that hand slid down to her lower back while his other hand moved to cradle her face. He bent to her slowly, giving her the opportunity to stop him, he held his breath that she wouldn’t. She didn’t, and he lightly kissed her lips, then licked them, nibbled both.

  When Kiri responded slightly, Naithon let out the held breath, slanted his head and attacked her mouth like a pirate plundering a ship. Both of his hands moved to encircle her head, he murmured against her lips, “Open your mouth, baby, let me in.” He pushed at her lips with his and hers parted just enough he sank his tongue inside, and the pillaging began in hot and heavy earnest.

  He squeezed her soft skin with his fingers, growled into her mouth, groaned when her little tongue responded to his licks and sucking. Naithon foraged every part of her mouth inside and out with the frenzy of a warrior battling a combatant he hungered to conquer. His fiery mayhem elicited a moan, then a hum that sifted through her throat to his mouth and he thought he’d come right then and there.

  Stretching to her toes, Kiri wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him back hot and sweet. A turmoil of sensations, blazing arousal burned through his body. Naithon slurred his mouth over hers, gobbling, nipping to her jaw, he bit her skin, then groaned while dragging his mouth, his teeth down her neck where he latched on and sucked until she whimpered.

  Mumbling, “Fuck, baby,” against her throat, he licked down to the top of her breast. With a rumbled groan, he bent and lifted her, carried her to a settee he’d had brought in and placed by a window so she could sit and look out. Naithon laid Kiri down so fast and climbed right on her before she could let out a squeal of protest.

  Brain frying on bedazzled lust, his mind shut down, he was all primitive animal shoving his face down her cleavage, grinding his chin, his mouth into her plush skin. With beastly growls he chewed and sucked the swells of her breasts, then pushed her blouse up to feel every inch of her exquisite skin. But, she was shrieking and hitting him, shouting at him to stop.

  Naithon shook his head, blinking dazed eyes, his mouth wet, he looked down at her, mumbled, “What’s wrong, baby?” Their chests panted in unison, he’d pushed her blouse up above her bra, he looked down and licked his lips. Lowering his head, his mouth open to suck a plump breast, Kiri pushed at his head and yelled, “Stop! Naithon, you promised, stop!”

  Her shrieks pierced the hazy film of scorching lust that fogged his brain, he leaned back. Seeing her distress, he sighed, and sat up, pulling her up with him. She tried to scoot away from him but he snagged her arm.

  Heaving rapid heavy breaths, his big chest billowed in and out as he caught his breath. Damp blond hair flopped over his eyes. “All right, I’ll stop, Kiri. Meu Dio, I can’t help what you do to me. You blast every thought out of my head and make me a beast that wants to devour you. If I could climb inside your mouth, sweet pigeon, I would.”

  She couldn’t help herself, Kiri giggled at the image he presented. Her giggles brought a rare smile to his hard face. Leaning into her, he went to slide his hand back around her nape and pull her in, his head already slanting, lips parting to resume kissing. Kiri set a hand on his chest and pushed admonishing, “Naithon, you promised.”

  A groaned sigh, “Ja, ja, okay, okay.” He stroked his hands from her shoulders down her arms to clasp her hands briefly. Shifting off the settee, he lurched to his feet, forked shaking fingers through his hair. “The only way I can keep my hands off you, pigeon, is to get away from you. At least until I calm down,” he looked down at his pants. The thick bulge there outlined how inflamed with desire he was.

  With a little frown, Kiri scolded, “I don’t think you should call me that, Naithon. It’s sexist.”

  He threw his head back with a loud laugh. “No doubt. It’s not my fault your tits are so round and full and perfect.”

  Rolling her eyes she said, “And that crudity. There are other words to describe parts of anatomy, you know.”

  Brows arched, he said with a tease, “But tits is easier to say than breasts. Breasts sounds prissy.” He laughed again as the color rose in her cheeks.

  “How about you don’t talk about my, um,” pink darkened to red, “body parts at all. Like a gentleman.”

  Naithon surprised himself as another loud laugh burst out. “Ja, yeah, I never claimed to be a gentlemen, my sweet. Besides, I get such pleasure from calling you that, your face turns a gorgeous shade of pink. It’s endearing and intoxicating.” He bent and kissed the top of her head then stepped back.

  “I will go now or you will be naked and under me in two seconds.” Laughing again at her embarrassed expression, he started for the door. “Pigeon, uh, lamb, you can lock this door from the inside. Do not answer it if someone knocks. If I send anyone to you, I will call and tell you,” he nodded to a phone on a wall. “That will hook to my phone. When you are tired of working, playing, whatever you intend to do with all this stuff, call me, I’m the number 1 on the pad, and I will come get you. Okay?”

  Standing up, Kiri gazed around with wide eyes, where oh where to start? “Okay,” she said absently, her head already buzzing with ideas.

  Naithon started back to give her a kiss goodbye, then thought better of it, he opened the door.

  “Naithon?”

  He hesitated. “Ja, baby lamb?”

  She said shyly, “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

  Another rare smile, he replied, “I am hoping that if you are content, you will not try to run away again.”

  Her lips bunched. “Naithon, everyone desires freedom.” She was crazy, he was holding her captive and she was thanking him! But, she had her very own studio, even if it was under Naithon’s lock and key.

  The smile gone, replaced by a serious firming of his lips. “We’ve discussed this. You are the daughter of an infamous mobster, Kiri, for as long as you live, you will never have pure freedom again. There will always be people that will come after you to get to him or your brothers. And, men with power will always desire you, and they will always take you, with or without your consent. In your situation, as unfair as it is, the law will never be on your side.”

  Sniffing back a sadness, she said with irritation, “I was safe in Italy, no one ever bothered me there.”

  “That’s because no one knew about you. Now they do.” Except he’d known about her, and had waited and plotted how to get his hands on her.

  “I would be safe if I moved back to Italy.”

  The frown turned into a scowl. “You will never go to Italy unless I am going there.” He left her before they got engaged in another argument. He locked the door before pulling it closed behind him.

  It grew late, Naithon checked his watch. He had brought Kiri dinner because she claimed she didn’t want to stop working to eat. But, now, hell, it had long grown dark. He marched upstairs, unlocked and pushed the door open. One small lamp was on by the table near the window. Kiri was sitting at the table, but her head was down resting on arms folded on the table.

  “Kiri?” he spoke softly not wanting to startle her. She didn’t move. He trod quietly over to her, bent over. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. She was sound asleep.

  Smiling, Naithon looked around. There were materials and concoctions in bowls. She’d sketched a scene she must be planning to design on a drawing pad; she still held a pencil in one hand. Beside the pad lay a page that had been detached.

  Removing the pencil from her hand he set it down and looked at the page. A smile like he’d never had before filled his face. She had drawn him. Sitting astride his stallion, the horse’s front hooves scraping at the air, she had drawn Naithon dressed as a warrior, his face fierce,
a sword raised as if he was launching into battle.

  “Damn but you are so sweet, I knew you would add light to my dark soul,” he muttered, slipping the picture in his pocket. Leaning over, he slid his hands under her. She sighed when he lifted her in his arms. Naithon carried her to the door and out to the stairs, and up to his, no, their room. When he used his thumb to unlock the chamber door, Kiri stirred.

  With a tiny yawn, she slid one arm up around his neck and half asleep mumbled, “Thank you Naithon, thank you for the studio. No one has ever done anything so nice for me.”

  Other women wanted diamonds and shoes, this one is happy with an art studio.

  “Anything you want, lamb, is yours,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head he brought her to bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two weeks passed. Naithon brought Kiri to his distillery complex and showed her the room he wanted to turn into a tasting room. The entire distillery complex was sleekly designed yet maintained a rustic quality that fit right into the enchanting countryside.

  The tasting room was attached to the main structure by a glass-enclosed walkway, but it also had an outside entrance at the back. It was a large, round building with a lengthy view of the back grounds and forests that were now almost completely bereft of the autumn leaves.

  “Oh Naithon, it’s charming,” she exclaimed. Spinning around, she examined every corner, niche, window, the bar area. It was only the most basic structure of raw exposed wood, a blank canvas for Kiri to spin her creative magic. Goose bumps of excitement tickled her arms.

  “What is it that you're looking for?” she asked, as she studied the area, her brain already cooking with ideas. “I mean, like what kind of theme do you want? Modern, country, aristocratic, old world renaissance, masculine, family, ritzy, exotic, cozy?”