Chapter 20
On a morning in November, Katherine and I drove to Riker's Island to talk to an inmate in connection to our current case. The last time we'd been there, we had talked to Viktor Petrov. The kiss replayed again in my head. It didn't burn as badly since I had talked to Skye and she had said that she didn't remember much from that last fight, let alone what had happened after. I couldn't help feeling some satisfaction to know that he was still rotting in that hell hole.
The correction officers didn't say anything, but they seemed a lot more cautious than usually when they took us through the paces. My cop sense tingled and the thought of a prison break pinged against my mind. As if reading my mind, I heard Katherine's whisper while we waited for the prisoner.
"Is it just me, or security got tighter than it was last time?"
"It's tighter," I confirmed.
Long after we left the prison, I couldn't shake the feeling of something terribly wrong. When we got to the station, I checked if maybe we missed any reports about Riker's, but I couldn't find any official statements. Even so, I was sure something was not right there. I trusted my instincts above paperwork. It wouldn't be the first time they kept quiet about something serious.
A glance at the computer screen told me that our shift had ended half an hour earlier. Married life seemed to suit Katherine, because she was clearing her desk. A profound affection rose in me as I watched her put on her jacket. It was good to see her look forward to get home. Skye and I hadn't reached that level. We were still playing the dating game and although she kept a minimal supply of necessities at my place, she still lived out of a travelling bag. We each had a change of clothes in the trunk just in case we'd spend the night, although for the past few weeks, she was the one staying over.
According to our routine, that evening she was doing her laundry and tidying up her flat. Which meant it was one of the evenings when I could stay late at work, as I used to… before her. She didn't expect me to show up, but in the privacy of my soul, I had to admit that I missed her. I followed Katherine's example and I cleared up my desk. Skye would still be in her flat.
As I was driving to her place, I thought about getting her some flowers, but decided against it. She spent so little time there, the flowers would end up being another thing she had to throw away in the weekly house cleaning routine. Maybe not flowers, but there were other things I could get her. I stopped by a fancy lingerie shop and picked up a few things I would love to take off her in the right circumstances. I left the box in the trunk next to my own change of clothes. Skye's flat was ok for a quickie, but I wanted her in our bed for all the other things.
*
Before unlocking the door, I heard a man's voice inside the apartment, and I switched instinctively to cop mode. My hand went straight to my gun, and weapon in hand, I turned the key fast and I pushed the door open. I went inside Skye's apartment as if I was entering a hostile area, trusting my instincts above the expectation that everything should be fine and it was the TV, or the super fixing stuff. My instinct hadn't failed me.
Viktor Petrov was in the middle of the room with a towel wrapped around his hips. He raised his hands before I said anything. The tattoos on his chest proclaimed him as a made man in the Russian Mafia, but he was unarmed and he didn't present an immediate threat. Except I knew he was supposed to be in the depths of Riker's Island not in Skye's living room
From the kitchen, Skye's dishwasher made its usual deafening noise.
"What?" she shouted.
Neither of us spoke, frozen in a deathly silent stare. She came in with a plate full of sandwiches.
"What did you sa-"
Her voice died when she saw me. How good of a liar was she? There wasn't even a trace of shame on her face. I saw a mere sparkle of guilt in her eyes, but her voice was perfectly calm.
"Please let the gun down."
"He's a convicted murder. And a fugitive," I said without lowering my weapon.
"Do you trust me?"
No. At that moment I did not trust her.
"How did he get out?" I asked, postponing the confirmation of her betrayal.
"We helped him escape."
"We?"
"The OCD. He's a cop, Nick."
"No cop would be allowed to do what he did, I don’t care how deep the cover."
"He's a Russian cop," she said and I saw the eyeroll.
I arched an eyebrow. "That sounded almost true," I said. As well as I knew her, she was too good of a liar to just accept that. "Even a Russian cop can't be part of the torture of American citizens. Or murder someone."
"To be precise, I work for the Russian Federation's Security Service." Viktor spoke for the first time.
"Under license from the State Department. I'm his handler."
Only then I lowered the muzzle of my gun. The huge muscles moved under Viktor's tattooed skin as he relaxed a little.
"How long?" I asked.
"I got his case a few weeks ago, but I had to get him out of Riker's the day before yesterday."
She finally set the sandwiches on the table in front of the couch. Viktor reached for one and wolfed it down in a few bites. He worked his way through half the plate before I put my gun back in its holster.
"Why?"
"There's a new guy who sees him as a threat and there's a contract on his head."
"Why not pull him out officially?"
We were talking as if Viktor wasn't even in the room, and it helped me keep at bay the other question. As long as we treated him as a pawn on the chessboard, I didn't have to think about the two of them having sex. The image of that damned kiss flashed through my mind.
"He's very well placed in the organization. He worked his way up the ranks. He's the right-hand man of the guy we want to run the Bratva on the East Coast."
"We're not having sex," Viktor said after he finished the last sandwich.
I looked sharply at him. He shrugged and he looked at me with more understanding than I felt comfortable accepting from him.
"I'm sure you care more about that than about the OCD's strategy for their crusade against the Bratva."
He was right. I noticed the blush that crept on Skye's cheeks and guessed that she hadn't told Viktor about our relationship.
"And you'll keep him indefinitely in your apartment?" I asked Skye.
"Well, no. For one thing, the couch in my office is damn uncomfortable. For another… I'm sure we have another leak in the Department and he's not safe in New York."
"Then?"
"Magnolia Grove."
That was a surprise. The place was sacred to the Walkers. How much did she care about this man?
"He's one of us, Woods," she said
The look on her face was older, more jaded. Haunted. Familiar. I understood her. The Russian Mafia had their code. Their brotherhood. But there was a blue blood that ran deep through the veins of all cops. And an even darker shade of blue in those of us who risked our lives and our sanity going into the lion's den pretending to be like the very people we despised.
When she finished her weekly chores, we left Viktor in her apartment and we drove back to my place. I was going to have to teach her a lesson.
"You've been a bad girl."
She shifted in her seat. Maybe I shouldn't turn this matter into one of our games. It was serious and the revelation that she hid something from me bothered me deeply. I might use mind games with my suspects, and I got them to confess using word traps, but I found myself unable to have an open conversation about important issues with the woman I loved.
"I know," she whispered.
She squirmed even more, trying to hide that she was rubbing her thighs together under the severe grey skirt.
"Stop it."
She looked at me inquiringly. Her lips were parted and I could see her eagerness to take commands.
"Spread your legs."
She parted them, but she put a mere two inches between her knees. Her pencil skirt was tight, not allowing her much space. I knew exactly how tight it was because I had chosen it for her. I loved watching her struggle to take small steps in high heels. Thinking about why I love that particular piece of clothing annoyed me because she had taken it to work.
"You can do better," I said. "Farther."
"But the skirt…" she tried to protest.
"Was that a no?" I asked her in the low and menacing tone she had showed me time and again that she loved to obey.
"No. Yes. I mean it's…"
She gave up talking and she pushed her thighs farther apart, pressing against the confines of her skirt.
"Better."
I loved that skirt but it was not going to survive the night.
After a few minutes, her legs started to shake. She was going to relax them soon. I sped up looking for a good place to pull over just as the shaking became more visible. She wasn't relaxing her muscles. I both loved and worried about her single-minded commitment. The tenacity with which she obeyed me was one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs I had experience. At the same time, her ability to withstand pain made our games dangerous. She had taken a lot of pain and injury in her missions, and she had never broken down. In the months we'd been together, I had never taken her to the limit. She had never used the safe word.
She wasn't going to use it that night. What I had in mind for her was on the lighter side of our games. As soon as I killed the engine, I reached over to her side and pulled her knees apart in one sudden, violent movement. The sound of the ripping fabric entwined with her gasp of surprise and delight made me instantly hard.
This scary strong woman chose to obey me without question. She gave me her full trust with an abandonment that should have scared me. She gave me free reign to take her wherever I wanted, and her willing submission fanned the flames of my dark fantasies.
I gripped the hem of her skirt and pulled hard until it ripped all the way and I had a full view of her pussy. I traced my fingers over her soaking wet panties. It was hard to resist the temptation to forego the game and get straight to fucking her. She was wearing a pair of the delicate panties that were part of my purposeful gifts. I chose them because they would look great, and they were easy to tear off her. She purred under my touches, and I kept teasing her clit through the lace. Her whimpers of pleasure faded into frustration the more I kept her on the brink of orgasm. When she was close to tears, I hooked my fingers in the elastic band of her panties and ripped them off. Her gasp of surprise was followed by a gasp of pain spiced pleasure when I slapped her pussy.
She snapped her thighs together instinctively. I shoved them apart again, and slapped her exposed pussy harder. She shivered again, but this time she kept her legs spread.
"You will stay exactly in this position until we get home."
"Yes," she said.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Sir."
The full moon gave enough light to have the full impact of her pose. I leaned over and started eating her up. I flicked my tongue over her clit and I felt her hands in my hair. She wasn't pulling me away, and she wasn't pressing me into her. She ran her fingers through my hair frantically and her breathing became loud and erratic. I made her come faster than I intended, but I couldn't help myself. She tasted sweet and wild, her response to my touches was more intense than I anticipated and it drove me to want her to fall apart.
"God, Nick! God!"
I kept my lips wrapped around her clit while her body shook, riding the wave of her orgasm. When it subsided, I sat up again and turned on the engine. I was pleased to see that she kept her legs spread as I had requested.
She held on to the remnants of her skirt until we got in the house. From the hallway, I tore off the skirt completely. She was naked from the waist down and again I had to fight the temptation to take her then and there.
"On your knees," I commanded her. "Open."
I looked down at the beautiful woman kneeling in front of me. She looked up to me with so much passion, my cock twitched in my pants, eager to dive into her hot little mouth. I forced her jaws wider and I stuffed my cock in her mouth. It hit the back of her throat and she choked. I kept caressing her hair gently, curious what she would do. I could hold her head in place and fuck her mouth, but I wanted to see how much she wanted to please me. Skye never disappointed me. She forced herself to keep the entire length of my cock in her mouth while the muscles in her throat spasmed trying to push away the intrusion. Tears streamed down her cheeks but light shone in her eyes when she looked up at me. Worshipping me. For a moment, I felt I didn't deserve this level of love. Then I realized that I loved her with the same intensity. The thought melted away under the heat of the pleasure. I grabbed her hair and held her head still while my hips rocked back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until I exploded. I saw fireworks while I kept coming.
"Oh, fuck, Skye, I love you so much."
The words didn't come out properly. My throat was dry and my voice was gone. I looked down at her. Skye was resting her forehead on my hipbone, while my softening cock smeared her cheek. She was gulping air and coughing. She hadn't heard me. As much as I loved having dirty crazy sex with her, this was not the way I wanted to tell her how I felt.
I helped her get up, and kissed her fondly. She wrapped her arms around my waist and put her head on my chest. I loved the sweet aftermath of our more violent encounters. I loved the way she trusted me to care for her.
While she was in the shower, I lay in bed thinking about the future. For the first time in my adult life, I had someone I could love and who, by some miracle, loved me back.
A few minutes later, she cuddled next to me.
"I'm sweaty, baby."
"So? I can have a shower with you."
I didn't want to think of all the reasons she loved me. I could unravel her illusions, and set her free to be with someone her own age. Someone who could go into the shower with her and make love to her again. But she wasn't one of my cases. I had no right to manipulate her into being normal. As if there was such a thing as being normal. Maybe I deserved to be happy. I wanted to make her happy, and that should count for something.
I pulled her closer, and pressed my lips into her temple.
"I love you, Skye."
"I know."
The End