22. Viktor
VIKTOR
Peyton was trouble. I’d known it for a while, but her text proved my point once and for all.
It might have taken her a minute to respond but when she did, it left me with a hard-on I had every intention of making better.
Later. She meant that text for Leo, but we all knew we were welcome.
Right this minute, we sat in her car, rolling down the street toward her house. I examined every house we passed, evaluating them for danger. Peyton apparently lived in one of the blandest neighborhoods ever.
And I thanked God for that.
Peyton clicked on the blinker and turned right onto a side street. “That’s me.” Her chin bobbled toward a small house to my right.
It was so inherently Peyton that I smiled. Sunshine yellow shutters framed small windows along the front of the house. A perfectly manicured sidewalk led to an orange door, and flowers covered just about everything.
Her entire neighborhood was residential and tree-lined, the kind of street that looked the same in every direction and probably smelled like cut grass in the evening. Which was a tough feat in New York.
She parked and turned off the engine. “I won’t be long.” Pushing the door open, she glanced back at me. “You don’t have to come in.”
“Oh, I’m coming in.” I was out the door and around the hood before she had a chance to recover.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She jingled her keys in her hand, then shoved the key into the door.
I patted her shoulder. “But you didn’t warn me.”
“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open.
The inside of her house was exactly what I expected and yet nothing like I imagined. A small living room gave way to a small kitchen bathed in warm light. Stacks of books took up spots along the front of an overflowing bookcase, and a colorful blanket lay draped over the arm of the couch.
A coffee mug on the kitchen counter with a stain ring underneath gave way to a spotless counter, which showed her attention to detail but slight predilection to distraction.
She dropped her bag onto the couch and disappeared down a dark hall without turning on any lights, navigating her own home in the near-dark.
I stayed in the living room, turning around in slow circles. The books were organized by author, but the stacks on the floor seemed to be completely random.
I’d almost expected them to be organized using that new color trend, but I should have known better.
A framed photograph sat on the shelf, sandwiched between two authors she must like since she had at least a dozen of each of their books. I picked up the frame and studied the photo.
A younger Peyton stood in the middle of a group, a woman with the same eyes beside a man with the same jaw, all three of them squinting into the sunlight. Several others that were combinations of the two older people fanned out on either side. Her family.
The sound of drawers opening and closing drifted from the hallway.
“Is everything okay?” I stayed put, running my thumb over her face in the photo.
A pause, then, “Fine.”
“Peyton?”
Another, longer pause, then her hand appeared at the edge of the doorframe. “I said I’m fine, Viktor.”
“Can I help?” I would really rather not. I much preferred taking in Peyton’s life, the things she might never have let us see.
“I’m packing. It does not require conversation. Or help.”
Was it just me or did her voice squeak? I smothered a grin, realized what I was doing, and stood stock still, evaluating the strange expression pulling my cheeks until they ached.
I crossed the living room and leaned against the doorframe of what turned out to be her bedroom.
A bedroom with a pink cover on the bed. My smile threatened again, and I crossed my arms, pinching the inside of my elbow to keep from laughing.
The room smelled like her. Warm and clean, something that reminded me of flowers and clean clothes. Sexy.
“You’ve been quiet.” I gave her a pointed look. “I have come to believe this is concerning.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows winged upward. “Meanwhile, the three of you barely say three words. The drive here, for example. You did not say a single word the entire time.”
“I was busy protecting you.” I pinched my arm again when she reached into the closet and yanked down a fluffy sweater far too warm for the current season. The sweater went into the bag, then she yanked open a drawer and pulled out several pairs of pajama pants that followed the sweater.
“You’re allowed to not be fine.” I crossed my ankles and waited.
She froze, her hand deep in the bag. Her head lifted, eyes skipping over my face.
“I’ve never needed a bodyguard before.” She pulled her hand free, dragging the sweater out and dropping it onto the bed.
“It’s strange to realize that being close to you, to all of you, means that’s changed.
I’m a variable in something I don’t fully understand. ”
Hmm. How to manage this one. A dozen possibilities flickered through my mind, and I settled on the most palatable one. “The risk to you is low. Our enemies don’t know about you. We’ve been careful.”
“But not careful enough if you feel this is necessary.” She dropped onto the edge of the bed, her hands falling to rest between her knees. It pulled the dress down in the front, which threatened to distract me.
“No.” I agreed with her because she deserved as much of the truth as possible.
“Is that why it feels like you’re all more worried than you’re letting on?”
The worry wasn’t entirely about Anton. I watched her for a different reason, and I liked her too much to be comfortable with that.
I chose a different approach that ran sideways to the real truth.
“In my world, there are always risks. That doesn’t change.
What changes is how well you manage them.
” I straightened from the doorframe and came far enough into the room that she’d have to work to avoid looking at me. “We are very good at managing them.”
She shifted on the bed, her head lifting. “I know that. And I trust you. That’s why I agreed to this.”
“Knowing it and acknowledging your fear are two different things.” I had a long history with that particular gap. I would not let what happened to Natasha happen to Peyton.
My heart hardened. I’d failed to protect Natasha when our enemies came for her. Never again. I would never fall in love, never let that all-consuming emotion take hold and ruin me.
“But you are safe with us.” I needed her to believe that.
The bed squeaked, and she turned sideways, pulling her knee up and locking her hands around her calf. “Can you just… sit with me for a minute?” She patted the bed, then rubbed her fingers over her forehead.
I perched next to her, the bed making another groan of protest.
“I’m scared.” Her chin quivered, her eyes taking on a glassy sheen.
My heart. I gathered her into my arms. “You are safe with us.”
“I know that.” Her huff of breath fanning over my neck turned into a quick inhale. “You are all quick to reassure me that I’m safe with you. I know that part, but it leaves me concerned on why you continue to express the point.”
I tightened my arms around her. “I mean you are safe so long as you are with us. No one will get to you if they must come through us first.”
“Oh.”
It was so quiet, I almost missed it.
She raised her head and kissed the underside of my jaw. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I lowered my head and captured her lips with mine. We’d had sex in just about every possible way, but from the moment our lips touched, this time was different.
Slower. Steady. I roamed over her lips, then down the side of her neck.
She lifted her arms, wrapping them around my neck and pulling me down. The bed cushioned us on every side, the overly soft mattress sinking until I almost drowned in the thing.
Of course Peyton liked soft beds. Should I call Leo and let him know we needed to change her room to match this? What was this woman doing to me?
Peyton shifted beneath me, her legs pulling to either side of mine as she cradled my erection. “I need you, Viktor.”
I nibbled her lower lip, then dipped down to kiss the hollow of her throat. We had time before the others would worry. Running my hand down her leg, I hiked her skirt up to expose her thigh.
She pressed her heels into the bed, then hooked her legs over my thighs and pulled me closer.
“Easy, Peyton.” I rasped out a laugh that vibrated the bed and caused Peyton to smile up at him.
“I fear this bed is too soft, and I’m going to need to make some accommodations.
” It was a bald-faced lie. The bed was fine.
I could fuck her anywhere, on any surface.
But for reasons I refused to think about, I allowed today to be different.
Moving as slowly as possible, I ran my hand along her thigh and between her legs.
“Too soft. Pfft.” She fluttered her lips. “Don’t tell me. When you’re not in the playroom, you sleep on a bed of nails.”
“Close enough.” The thin dress covering her shoulders had to go. Sitting back on my heels, I pushed the dress up around her waist, then tugged her into a sitting position and pulled it over her head. “Incredible.”
She made a face at me until I pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger and raised her chin. “Thank you for the compliment.”
“You’re welcome.” I kissed my way down her body, to the curve of her hip, and then back up until our lips met.
She reached between us and unzipped my pants, cupping my balls before running her hand up and down my length.
I’d never thought about being tender with her, not like this. I’d always made sure she was comfortable, even when the goal was to make her uncomfortable, to find her limits.
But this, allowing silence to build and pleasure to come from the slow way she lifted her hand to cup the side of my face, became almost torturous.
My heart beat far to fast for the minimal movement, and every breath scorched my lungs. I had not felt this in years. Not since…
No. I eased inside her, blotting out the memories and forcing myself to focus on the here and now. On Peyton.
Peyton stretched her spine, her palm flat over my cheek and her body accepting me as I used every inch of my cock to tease and please her. My rhythm held steady, my slow strokes turning her eyes soft. Her lashes fluttered closed, then flew open. “Viktor.”
“I’m here.” I turned my head and kissed her palm. I’m here. A lump formed in my throat, trapping all of the romantic sentiments I’d locked away. I held them back through force of will. Peyton tightened her grip, her heels pulling me deeper.
Emotions I’d thought long dead threatened to rise.
I squashed them and changed the pace, palming the side of her neck and tipping her chin up for a kiss.
This was not what I’d intended for today.
I’d planned to protect Peyton, and I would. But this, making love in her bed, in this slow, delicate way, had never been part of the plan.
Love making. No.
Absolutely not.
I kissed her, closing my eyes and driving every thought out of my head except for how good she felt around me.
We climaxed together, the steady built cresting in a wave that left Peyton shaking beneath me.
“Wow.” Her heels ran up and down the back of my thighs. “I…wow.”
I kissed her palm again, holding my weight off her with a palm next to her head. Yes.
Wow. I had not expected this. Not the furious pounding of my heart or the way it tried to leap out of my chest and demand I take note.
Staring down at her, I had to admit the truth, even if it was only ever to myself. I was falling for Peyton.
Despite the possibility that she might betray us, she owned my heart. Leo would never forgive me.
Misha would understand.
And if anyone outside our circle ever knew, they would never stop hunting her.
I would kill them all with my bare hands. I might allow Misha to help.