Kit
What the fuck? She did it again. She set me up.
The ice princess jumps off the fancy tablecloth and into my arms. She wraps these long fingers into my hair, presses her body into mine, and kisses me like we’ve been doing it for years.
At first, it’s all a sham, until my cock decides it isn’t.
After, I’m not clear what happens, except I’m damn sure that I’m not letting her marry that asshole storming across the room with murder in his eyes.
With my hands on her tiny waist I push her gently off my body and whisper, “This is your call. What’s next?”
Biting her lower lip and eyes wide, she slips behind me. “Actually? I’m not sure but please, don’t let him take me. Please.”
Incroyable.
Hopefully my new best friends, the fake Feds, have eyes on us. Who knows? If I was them, I’d let Dmitriyev’s goons kick my ass, just to teach me some respect.
Tucking a gun into the back of my waistband is a bad habit that I haven’t been able to break and tonight, for the first time in years, I’m glad for it. With my left arm I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close while feeling for my weapon’s handle with my right.
When I’m convinced I got this covered, I begin fast-talking to the gathering crowd. “I’m so sorry that my dear Sonia here has broken the news so publicly. She can be too rash.”
I give her asshat fiancé a sad look as I back me and her toward the closest exit. “I’m so sorry, dude. I had no idea, when she gave me an invite, that this was your engagement party.”
I pretend to look angry at Sonia. “You should’ve told me, cherie. We’ll talk punishment later.”
The way her eyes widen and pupils darken is a big surprise and I grin. I might just do that, in a way that will have her screaming my name in ecstasy as she comes.
Soon, we’re at the swinging double doors to the kitchen. “Give us a few minutes, eh? Be right back.”
And the academy award for complete bullshit goes to…
I’m giving me a fifty-fifty chance of coming out of this alive as two of the guys from this morning approach. The closest bodyguard is bald, tall and thin, with an anchor on his forearm. The other guy is built like a grizzly bear on steroids.
When the latter reaches for her, I say, “Step back, s’il vous plait, monsieur.”
Okay. I didn’t really do that.
What I actually did was punch him once in the gut and to the jaw to knock him out cold. When the other pulls a knife, I kick it out of his hand then slam a knee into his groin. On his knees, I easily send him to sweet dreams with a kick to the head.
“Let’s go.” I point to the red EXIT sign.
From there, I take her hand and run across the street to the parking garage. As we dash underground, I pull out my gun, while praying there’s an idling vehicle.
Mon Dieu. A bright yellow Porsche is ready to go, so I insist on the keys at gunpoint. The second after Sonia jumps in the passenger seat, I put my foot down, and manage not to run over the attendants.
I drive on the sidewalk, jump the next couple lights, and maneuver my way crosstown. Soon, we’re zooming up the West Side Highway with no signs of being followed in my rearview.
“You got your phone on you?”
She nods.
“Toss it out the window.”
Instead she looks at me like I’m a big moron and pulls out the battery. “It’s off. What now?”
“This is your shit-show, princess. I was supposed to pick up some intel, give it to some fake Feds, then split. Now, I drop you off at whatever hotel you say. After? You call the real Feds, your embassy, or the holy ghost for all I care. They can come save you, eh?”
“About that…” She bites her lower lip as she glances out the window. “I rather left in a hurry, as you may have noticed… ”
I nod my head in the direction of her designer purse, the kind with stupid horseshoes all over a brown background that cost a fortune. “Surely, you got some kind of credit card in there?”
“They’re all in my father’s name. By now, I’m sure they’re cancelled.”
“Merde.” It’s already hard to stay in my lane while weaving in and out of traffic.
With one hand, I reach for my wallet inside my tux and hand her my phone. “Find yourself a hotel and book a room. I’ll drop you off.”
She looks at me as if I told her to find a spaceship.
“For the love of Christ almighty. Don’t tell me. You’ve never done that, either.”
She shakes her head, no.
“How old are you?”
“Oh, shut up.” She’s switched to Russian, crosses her arms and glares.
Meanwhile I drive glancing in the rearview mirror. There’s one set of headlights that may be keeping pace. It could be the cops, I did steal a rather expensive car, or it could be her overly-controlling family.
“Hold on. I press down on the pedal, my days as a car thief coming back as easily as riding a bike.
The adrenaline kicks in and I smile as I figure out my destination. I’ve got a hotel near the Ranger’s rink where the staff has my back.
“Do you think we’re being followed?” She twists in her seat, staring out the back window, pale as a ghost.
Again, I wonder what the fuck happened to the FBI agents, Poppy and Tory. I got a sinking feeling that I should’ve called in their badge numbers to the New York office. Fuck everything. I’m as naive as the princess, here.
The car that’s been tailing us comes into view. I slow down, letting them come right behind me, then crank the wheel. The back of the car twists to follow the front as we race across three lanes of traffic. Barely avoiding the cement barrier, we exit the highway.
Behind us, tires screech and metallic bangs echo off the brick buildings. After a moment of silence, sirens, honking, and shouting indicate that we most likely lost our tail.
Next, I need to ditch this bright yellow ride. “What the fuck have you got me into?”
“If you recall, I tried to get rid of you.” She glares. “There was supposed to be an FBI agent, not you.”
“About that. Tell me. Did you use your cell phone to place the call?”
She nods. “What else would I use?”
“I suspect someone’s made a copy. I don’t think the guys that asked me to help you were real FBI.”
“Oh shit. They can do that?” She pales, eyes wide, making it hard to keep my eyes on the road.
“Don’t you watch TV? Movies?”
She curses in Russian. “I’m so screwed.”
“Why, what’s on that drive.”
“I shouldn’t tell you. It’ll put you in real danger.”
“Now? You’re worried?” Is she fucking serious?
I give her some credit for looking embarrassed. “Fine. It has some IP addresses, some passwords and a copy of an email. I guess maybe you’ve heard what business my father is in?”
I shake my head, no. “Just rumors.”
“You know the last big computer virus to hit the Ukraine?
I nod.
“That was him. Well, I should say, he brokered the deal. That’s what he does. Makes deals.”
About now, I’m wondering how long it would take to high tail it back to Canada. My life, recently worth millions, is probably worth shit, except to the hitman contracted to kill me.
When I’m certain we’re not being followed, I pull back onto 87, hopeful that the Porsche belongs to someone at the party, perhaps a friend of her father. They wouldn’t want GPS any more than I do right about now.
Staying within the speed limit, about an hour later, I pull into the hotel. Thankfully, the place has vacancies because a lot of people are down at the shore. When I approach the front desk, the lobby clock reads ten o’clock.
I show them my card, my VIP status pops up, and the young man at the desk smiles knowing how well I tip. “Very well Mr. and Mrs. Brown. You’re all set. Regular room?”
I nod and he hands us a set of cards.
Alone in the elevator, Sonia asks quietly. “So you’re pretty sure my father won’t be able to find us? Me?” Her eyes look to me as if maybe she no longer thinks I’m a worthless piece of shit.
I’m not sure I like how some protective instinct in my chest tightens as I step out of the elevator and swipe the key card. Inside, the room has a small kitchenette, couch, desk and king-sized bed. Just right for training and occasional fucking.
When I regard her wide-eyes, I wonder if she thinks I’d take her against her will and that pisses me off. So, maybe I’m too gruff when I point. “The couch pulls out. You can sleep there. Use the bathroom but be quick about it.”
“I uh, have nothing to sleep in.” She shivers, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms.
“Well, princess, for the first time in your life, you may need to sleep in your underwear.”
She blushes from head to toe and yeah, I can be a bit dense. It takes me a few moments. That dress fits her like a glove. No doubt she’s wearing nothing underneath.
Oh shit. Blood rushes to my cock and my mouth goes dry as I stare. She’s so damn innocent and so damn beautiful. Way too good for the likes of someone like me.
I take off my tux coat, my dress shirt, and shrug out of my undershirt, not bothering to sniff. “Here. You can sleep in this.”
Eyes wide, she stares at my naked abs, and her pink tongue slips out to lick her lower lip. Like a deer in the nighttime frozen, she doesn’t move. Apparently now the foot is on the other shoe, eh?
I won’t fuck her, not after what she’s just gone through. However, there’s nothing wrong with a small taste. Walking into her personal space slowly, I fear she might spook but she stands firm, eyes all over me. Eager hands reach, small delicate fingers touch the pack of muscles on my chest, and circle over a few of the larger scars. I let her explore, holding back, because if I touch her, that dress is coming right off and onto the floor.
She lifts her lips, her eye lashes flutter, and she tastes so fucking good that I can’t help but want more. By the way she squirms against me, she wants it too. Her hands wrap around my neck, palms pressing in, long nails cutting into flesh, almost painful.
Osti.. Does she have any idea how rough I like it? Probably not. It’d no doubt scare her to death.
Mouth glued to hers, I rub my hands up and down her small curves. She’s tiny in comparison to the women I usually bed so I don’t get why I’m so strung out for want of her. As I thrust in my tongue, I lift the hem of her dress, almost undone by the feel of her naked ass.
Quickly, she wraps her legs around my waist, her slick core wetting my skin above my navel her lips still locked.
By all holy saints, I will have her.
For a split second, sanity hits, and I pull my mouth off from hers, panting. Never before have I lost control, forgot my surroundings, and allowed emotions to rule.
“Hell no. This isn’t going to happen. Not now. Not ever.” I unclamp her hands from around my neck, unlock her ankles, and step back. Then I lean over, pick up my t-shirt and hand it to her.
The hurt in her eyes makes me feel like a shit-head but hey, so be it. I don’t fuck unless I’m fully in control.
She runs into the bathroom, slams the door, and blows her nose.
Better that, than me ramming my large cock into the back of her womb, splitting her into pieces. I’d bite down too hard, thrust too hard, fuck too long. With her, I’d go out of my mind and that is one hundred percent unacceptable.
Tossing some couch cushions on the floor, I pull out the folding bed, and open some closets to find some sheets. Not finding any, I call the front desk. Within minutes, they ring the door and I make her bed. When she comes out in my t-shirt, I turn away and wait for her small sobbing to stop. Once she’s breathing deeply, I jump out of bed, take a piss, and hop back under the covers.
Sleep is elusive, though.
What the fuck am I going to do now?