I’m already better, I tell her although it’s not entirely true. My head aches, and I could probably fall back to sleep again in a heartbeat. Tomorrow I will wear you out.
She sucks in a breath and shoots an excited look at me. “Is that dirty talk?”
I nod, and her smile widens. “Oh my God, I can’t wait to hear all the filthy thoughts in that big head of yours.”
I arch a brow. Careful what you wish for.
Story straddles my lap, grinding her warm core over my semi, turning it into a full-fledged boner. “How much better are you feeling?” she purrs.
Well enough to fuck the daylights out of you, shalun’ya, I type, using the non-translate feature on her other pet name, then toss the iPad aside and flip her to her back.
“I hope shalun’ya means something very naughty.” She tugs up my shirt.
I growl and claim her mouth, showing her exactly how I treat my little minx when she’s a bad girl.
Oleg
I wake to find Story gone.
I fly out of the bed and pound down the hallway in my boxer briefs and t-shirt. The living room is bright with daylight.
Fuck. Did I lose time again? How much?
Vaguely, it comes back to me that I slept through the afternoon and evening. Story stayed with me, playing her guitar softly and moving about the room. I vaguely remember Sasha inviting her to eat-I don’t know if it was lunch or dinner. Maybe both.
That must’ve been yesterday.
“Hey, big guy. How are you feeling?” Nikolai asks from the couch. He’s eating donuts from a box on the coffee table.
I throw my arms in the air in frustration, demanding to know where Story went.
“Relax.” Maxim emerges from the kitchen drinking a glass of grapefruit juice. “Story’s up on the roof with Sasha.”
The roof. I shake my head, already reaching for the door.
“They’re safe up there-you think I would allow it if they weren’t? There’s no clear shot onto that roof from any direction. I promise.”
I relax my grip on the door handle slightly, debating if I should go put on pants before I storm up there, since it’s not an emergency, when I hear screams and the sound of bullets piercing metal from the rooftop.
Everyone in the penthouse flies into action. I fling open the door, running. The footsteps of my brothers pound behind me, Maxim at my neck. Pavel and Nikolai are further back, both with guns drawn. I take the stairs three at a time and throw open the door to the rooftop with a whack. Sasha and Story crouch together in the hot tub, covering their heads.
“They’re shooting at us!” Sasha yells to Maxim in Russian.
Maxim whirls, checking the buildings around us, calming the women at the same time. “It’s all right,” he tells them. “There’s no clear shot. I promise you. The places where there might be, we put up bullet-proof glass.”
I want to kill Maxim for letting Story out of his sight, but I struggle to let his words seep in. They really aren’t in danger.
Ravil and Dima arrive on the roof, also with pistols in hand. A few more shots are fired, I see Maxim was right. They hit the tall HVAC unit, bounce off the bullet-proof windows below.
“Over there.” Ravil points to the building beside us that has one of the windows removed. “Get a team in that building now,” he barks.
I can’t think of anything but getting to Story. I jog to the hot tub and pick up one of the towels lying over a chair to hold out to cover her. She’s in nothing but her panties, and I want to murder every one of my bratva brothers for glimpsing her tits, not that they’re looking.
She scrambles out and jumps on me, straddling my waist, arms around my neck, soaking my clothes with the hot water. I wrap the towel around her back, holding her tight.
Maxim pulls Sasha out of the tub and into his arms.
I’m still not breathing. Not able to stop the terror rushing through my veins.
“It’s a message,” Ravil says grimly. “Someone’s trying to scare you.”
I’m going to kill all of them. Every last person who threatened Story’s life. I turn and stalk off the roof, carrying Story like she’s the only thing keeping me alive.
“I’m okay,” she murmurs in my ear, even though she still clings to me as tightly as when she flung herself into my arms. “It just scared us. We didn’t know we couldn’t be hit.”
My swallow. I never want to put her down again. I carry her into my bedroom and pace in a circle with her.
“I’m okay,” she repeats. She leans her cheek against mine. “Your fever broke. Are you feeling better?”
I pace another circle.
“Put me down, big guy. I need to get dressed. Of course, I have no clothes to wear.”
I set her gently on the dresser and fish out a long-sleeved t-shirt for her to wear as she peels off her wet panties. She pulls the shirt over her head. The sleeves drape down over her hands, making her look like a rag doll. She laughs and takes her arms out of the sleeves, then pushes them up through the neck hole, bringing it down below her shoulders. She then ties the long sleeves under her breasts, creating the appearance of a strapless shirt-dress. It’s bohemian and beautiful. I gather her back up in my arms and kiss her forehead.
“I’m all right,” she says again. “Come on, let’s get back out there to talk about this.”
I know she’s right, but I’d rather keep her locked in my bedroom.
Indefinitely.
I’m also extremely distracted knowing she’s wearing no panties beneath my t-shirt. My hand covers her ass as we walk out together, my fingertips tracing the curve of her buttocks.
She tips her head up to me and gives me a secret smile.