Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4) Page 6
His eyes snapped in anger, but he said nothing.
Jane frowned, stepped up to him, ignoring the growl of warning from Grekov, and pressed the electrodes of the gun against his his neck until the huge man was prone on the ground, his eyes drifting shut. She grinned and handed the weapon back to Hudson.
“Are you done?” he asked sarcastically. “Remind me never to piss you off, McKinley.”
Jane stood over the Russian, placing her booted feet on either side of him and dropped down into a crouch. She swiftly yanked his arms back and cuffed him before he could come to. “I need you to lift him and toss his ass into the bed of your truck. We’re going to take him to my office and cuff him to the sturdiest piece of metal we can find. I have a feeling he’s going to be a grumpy boy when he wakes up.”
“Why would we do that?” Hudson asked without moving. “I’m not feeling particularly suicidal today.”
Jane shoved a hand full of dark, wet hair behind her ear. She grinned up at her partner. “Because we’re going to ransom him back to the Russians for the amount he lost us tonight. If he’s Sitnikov’s right hand then the Boss is going to want him back in one piece.”
Hudson whistled, “You are fucking insane McKinley. That is a plan designed to get me killed.”
Jane tilted her head back and thought about it. “You’re right. Sitnikov probably shouldn’t know you were involved in this. Help me get him back to my place. I’ll sit in the back with him and if he starts to come around I’ll tase the shit out of him again. You can take off after I’ve hooked him up to a radiator or something.”
Hudson hesitated. “I should say no just to save you from yourself. How do you know Sitnikov won’t decide you aren’t worth the trouble?”
“He won’t,” Jane said with conviction and pleaded, “I can’t move this guy myself, Hudson, or I wouldn’t ask you to help with something like this. He’s three times my size.”
Finally Hudson nodded and without wasting any more time reached for the unconscious enforcer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jane felt better than she had in a long time. Which was really saying something considering she was currently sitting in the tiny, run down apartment above her PI office with a massive, annoyed Russian handcuffed to her radiator. He’d woken up an hour ago. She had worried he’d try to use his brute strength to tear the heater off the wall, possibly crush her skull in his massive paws and then leave. Instead he’d only pulled himself up into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor and simply sat, waiting, and stared past her.
Jane was sitting across the room from him cross-legged on her bed. There was no actual bedroom in the suite. Her new apartment was significantly smaller than her last small one. But it was convenient and much more affordable on her reduced and sporadic salary. Unfortunately, it meant that her bedroom, kitchen and nearly non-existent living room were all in one room. She worried about what she would do if her captive decided he had to pee. Despite her skill in hand-to-hand combat she knew one punch from his fist would take her out. She didn’t plan on getting within reach of him while he was her guest.
Boris Grekov said nothing to her as they both waited for his boss to arrive. Her conversation with Sitnikov had been brief. She hadn’t been able to tell if he was angry or not at her kidnapping of his man. He’d simply listened to her instructions in silence. He’d also capitulated at the amount she demanded without negotiation, making her wonder if she should’ve asked for more. She’d told him $30,000, which was five more than the amount she and Hudson had lost. She figured they would split it fifty/fifty. She’d had to do more of the work, but Hudson was the one that got screwed out of a bounty.
Jane had also told Sitnikov she expected him to clean up his man’s mess, meaning the dead body. Sitnikov had asked a few more questions about that incident, but had agreed to her demand without hesitation. She tried not to feel pleased when he inquired after her injuries and seemed satisfied when she told him she was fine enough to capture a more than 300 lb Russian enforcer.
Jane jumped at the knock on her apartment door. The exterior stairs meant guests didn’t need to go through her office. She glanced at Boris, who looked back at her with a bland expression. Jane stood and moved to answer the door. She took the loaded gun from the table by the door and held it in front of her as she opened the door.
Sitnikov’s tall, lean frame filled the door. His eyes flickered over her in a blatantly possessive look that caused a shiver to run down her spine. The usual chilliness of his gaze was replaced with a barely leashed heat. She felt the familiar sensation of fear at his presence, but there was also a tiny glow in her that he had come himself. And, apparently, had also come alone. Maybe he wanted to save Boris the potential embarrassment, or perhaps he wanted to see her alone.
“Sitnikov,” she said.
Annoyance flickered in his dark eyes as they met hers. She knew he wanted to hear his given name on her lips. Something she refused to give him.
“Jane,” he replied, his gaze once more lingering over her curves, displayed in black jeans and a fitted T-shirt. “You are looking exceptionally well.”
Boris snorted from his position on the floor. Clearly he didn’t enjoy their twisted idea of flirting while he was still handcuffed to her pathetic excuse for a radiator. Sitnikov’s eyes settled on the other man and he nodded before sweeping his eyes around the room. Scorn and, if she wasn’t mistaken, anger blazed in his eyes, though his expression remained as icy as ever. She was getting better at reading him.
“This is where you live?” he asked. His voice was steady, but his accent became thicker.
Jane frowned. “You already knew that. You wouldn't have Mr. Grekov following me around and then not know where I live. Your sick stalker tendencies wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His eyes captured hers and he took a step forward into the tiny apartment, forcing her to step back. “Be careful, Jane,” he said, his level tone belying the leap of anger in his dark eyes. “I knew of your address, of course. I refer to this broken down hovel that you chose over my far more favourable offer.”
She held her breath. She knew she should be more careful in what she said to Vladimir Sitnikov. Some imp within her dared her to tease him and push him beyond his icy control. Just to see what would happen. She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand how he could want her as badly as he had professed and then leave her alone without even a word for six long months. Either he lied or he had the patience of a saint.
Tension snapped in the air around them, arousing her against her will. “Do you have the money?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the tightening of her nipples.
He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope. Jane took it from him and tossed it on her bed. He raised a brow as she pulled a set of keys out of her pocket and went to crouch down next to Boris. “You don’t want to check that it is all there? You trust me?”
Jane inserted a key into the handcuffs. “Is it all there?” she asked mildly.
“Da.”
She shrugged, “Good enough.”
She unlocked the metal restraint from Boris’ wrist and, standing up, quickly backed away. She was relatively certain the hulking giant wouldn’t harm her, especially with his boss in the room, but she wasn’t about to test that theory by hovering over him as he used his fists against the floor to push himself to his feet. When he had gained his feet, he turned to face her. Jane shivered. Sitnikov stood at her back. She suddenly felt extremely tiny next to the two much taller men.
“You can wait in the vehicle,” Sitnikov said over her head.
Boris nodded and glanced at Jane. “No more fire escapes, woman.”
Jane frowned, but before she could say anything he was gone, closing the door firmly behind him. Why was Sitnikov staying behind? It couldn’t be for any good reason she could think of. She was about to turn around and demand he leave as well when he stepped up against her back and brought his a
rms around her body in a cage, effectively trapping her when she would have leapt away from him. He dropped his head into her neck and inhaled her scent deeply. His exhaled sigh whispered along the sensitive skin of her throat.
“I find, Jane McKinley, that I am pleased you think you know me well enough that you trust I have brought the money you asked for,” he said, his voice a deep rumble against her body.
Jane jerked in his arms, but he refused to release her. “I couldn’t care less what pleases you, Sitnikov,” she snarled. “Let go of me and get the hell out.”
He stiffened against her back, his hold on her tightening fractionally. “You should care, Jane. It is my good will you should be seeking. This city runs on my say so. There is not a thing that goes on that I do not know or control. I have allowed you this freedom to rebuild your life. I can as easily take it away with the snap of my fingers.”
Jane gasped as he turned her around in his arms and held her tightly against his chest. His eyes devoured her, capturing each tiny expression that crossed her features as though gaining even more precious knowledge of her. “You don’t own me,” she said as defiantly as she could, bringing her hands up to push against him.
He ignored her struggles and frowned down at her. “I am not pleased that you have placed yourself in danger tonight. You could have been killed when you were pushed over the fire escape. I will not allow you to be killed.” He said the words as though they were dragged from him. As though he was realizing for the first time that he didn’t like that something could have happened to her.
“Okay,” Jane whispered. She wondered how he knew about the fire escape. She suspected Boris must have been on the phone with him as it happened. Or Boris had a man with him that let him be kidnapped. If that was the case, she pitied that guy when Boris got his hands on him.
She wanted to point out that her life was in danger many times over the course of her career as a cop, but remained silent. She sensed he hadn’t meant to tell her that. That it was very rare for him to admit to feelings about something beyond his control. Jane remembered the time in her old apartment when he had come to see her, when he had admitted that she tested his control. It had seemed as though the words had been dragged from him. A man in his position couldn’t afford to admit weakness.
Jane thanked goodness in that moment that Sitnikov was so obsessed with her. If he wasn’t, she suspected her survival statistics would be a lot lower. She was probably the only person in the world, except perhaps his sister, that had ever heard him admit to having emotions.
“I should end this Jane, for both of our sakes,” he mumbled.
“No!” she gasped. She wasn’t sure if he meant her life or her freedom. Either option wasn’t particularly acceptable.
“Yes,” he said, almost absently. “I have had enough of waiting for you. I cannot stop thinking about you and wanting you in my bed. You have endangered yourself and you could easily do it again. I do not like this idea, Jane.”
“Please,” she whispered, all bravado draining from her. She knew down to her bones that Sitnikov could do anything he wanted to her without impunity. Though she hated it, she was down to begging. “Don’t make me give up another thing that makes me feel worthwhile. It might kill me this time.”
His gaze sharpened on her face. “Never,” he snapped. “I would not allow it.”
“Being your lover won’t fulfil me, Sitnikov. It certainly won’t make me happy. You can’t have what you want from me.”
He snarled something that was probably a swear in Russian. “I should just take from you what I want and be done with it. I shouldn’t fucking care what you want, woman.”
Jane cautiously brought a hand up between them and placed it against his chest, and said almost wonderingly, “But you do.”
He said nothing for a moment, but finally jerked his head in a nod, his thick jaw clenched in annoyance. “I will give you more time.”
Jane relaxed slightly in his hold, feeling relief that more time was being added to the invisible clock he held over her head. She wouldn’t be forced into a relationship with him yet. He was so intense, so overwhelming. She couldn’t imagine being a part of his life.
“If… ” he said, his voice becoming deeper.
Jane went rigid.
“If you let me touch you tonight. I want to see the body I am denying myself. I want to touch you and hear you moan under my hands. I want a memory for the cold nights ahead that you will consign me to.”
Jane stared up at him, her face flushing with heat. Sexual tension snapped between them, igniting the air around their aroused bodies. Jane searched for the words to deny him, but couldn’t find them. A part of her wanted to obey him, was dying to know his touch. She was denying herself as much as she was denying him. She wanted to feel his touch as a lover, just once.
She nodded and closed her eyes against the intensity of the blazing possession she saw in his eyes. She could feel how much he wanted her in every rigid inch of his body. She knew it was a fucking miracle he hadn’t already claimed her. Sitnikov wasn’t a man to deny himself anything he wanted.
“No penetration?” she asked warily, stepping away from him. He loosened his grip and allowed her to step back.
“I will remain clothed,” he assured her. “I want to see you, all of you. I want to touch you, Jane. I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”
Just as she knew the amount of money in the envelope was exactly $30,000, she knew Sitnikov wouldn’t lie to her. He would do as he said. Without hesitation she reached down and pulled her T-shirt up over her head. She let it drop to the floor. She could feel the heat coming from his big body. She could feel the grip of his eyes scorching her skin, branding her. Next she kicked off her boots. Before she could chicken out she reached for her jeans, unbuckling the belt and then unbuttoning and unzipping the fabric. She pushed the clinging denim material over her flaring hips and down the curves of her legs. She pulled her socks off along with the jeans and then stood naked except for a pair of black cotton panties edged with grey lace around the waist and curving over her butt cheeks.
She tilted her head up and forced herself to look at Sitnikov. Her straight black hair brushed across her shoulders, her bangs framing large, light brown eyes and giving her a look of innocence.
Sitnikov sucked in his breath in a hiss. She could see the evidence of his sizeable erection against the expensive fabric of his trousers. The sight made her squirm as her pussy heated up. He closed the few steps between them and brought one long finger up to trace the tattoo of a sugar skull on her hip. He murmured his approval and then traced his fingers up her body, over the rounded globe of her right breast and flicked his finger gently against the small silver hoop that scored her nipple. She gasped in response, her nipple hardening to an unbearable degree.
“The skull tattoo, you got it shortly after your dismissal from the PD. It was described in the paperwork at the tattoo shop. I did not, however, know of this little extra.” The way he spoke, his accent catching over the words made it sound as though he wasn’t pleased with the piercing. Yet his fingers traced the small hoop almost lovingly and flicked against it in delicious torment.
“It was free,” she gasped out. “The artist that did my tattoo was happy that I let her design the skull and so impressed with how if turned out she offered me a free piercing. I chose the location.”
She moaned as his warm hand closed over her breast and tugged the hoop mercilessly. She hadn’t dated at all since leaving the force and had no idea how good it would feel to have a man play with her piercing. She wanted to melt to the floor and probably would have if his other arm hadn’t reached around her waist and held her up.
“A woman,” he murmured, relaxing somewhat at realizing the person who pierced her wasn’t a man. “It must have hurt.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her head lolling back and her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders. “Hurt like a bitch.”
He frowned, holding her close against him a
nd gentling his fingers in a caress across her breast, as though to soothe the pain of a piercing long healed. “Why would you choose to do this to your body, Jane?”
She shrugged shifting restlessly against him, her naked body brushing the smooth fabric of his suit. “I wanted to feel alive again, to drive away the numbness after I was forced out of my job.”
Sitnikov stilled for a moment. Jane looked up at him and saw a flash of regret that was quickly smothered. He reached down and picked her up easily, his arm sliding under her bare knees. The cool brush of his expensive shirt against her heated skin was exquisite. Before Jane could demand he put her down, he dropped her on the bed and came down on top of her, holding his weight above her. Jane gasped and tried to roll away from him, not liking the intimacy of being on a bed with him. Sitnikov easily subdued her with a heavy hand on her stomach and sharply spoken words.
“Do not forget our agreement, Jane,” he said sharply. “You must allow my touch.”
Jane lay rigid beneath him, but didn’t try to get away again. She held her breath as he lightly traced his fingers over her body. He was laying half on her and half to the side of her, trapping her left arm beneath his heavy body. He reached across her and took her right hand in his. He lifted it over her stomach so they could both look at it.
He flicked the polished nail with his thumb and asked, “And this? Why did you get this? One would think it would hamper your work.”
She shrugged. “I wanted to look different, to have something I wasn’t allowed in the force. I’m used to the longer nails now, they don’t slow me down.”
He nodded slightly, “You wanted to take control of your body.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He looked at her index finger, touching the tiny crystal skull glued to the nail. He brought her finger to his face and before she could ask what he was doing he sucked the digit into the hot recess of his mouth. Wet heat enveloped her finger and simultaneously flooded her pussy. She had never in her life experienced something as erotic as the way he sucked her finger into his mouth. She moaned and arched her neck back, her black hair fluffing out around her head in a halo of silken strands. Her body wiggled restlessly against the hard mattress.