Chapter Thirteen
In which only a man like Roman can get an erection while he’s in a cold plunge tub.
Roman…
"What in the hell are you doing?"
I pause in my examination of the ice cubes floating in the water to see Violet standing in the side door, looking horrified, as if she's witnessing me disemboweling a goat.
"I'm taking a cold plunge," I say tightly. It would be unmanly to have chattering teeth. Violet's wearing a soft little tank top and sleep shorts and I could be sitting in a block of ice and my cock would still be trying to get hard.
"Why would you do that?"
"It helps with circulation and muscle tone.
" I say spreading my arms across the back of the tub.
I'd been ready to get out, but now that she's standing there, I'm unwilling to move, no matter how interested my cock is in the soft curve of her breasts.
I'm naked and thanks to the ice water, any display is bound to be unflattering.
"I thought that was a myth," she says, "like how saunas prevent Alzheimer's and drinking molasses cures cancer." She's looking distinctly concerned for my well-being.
"What are you doing up?" I ask.
"Oh, I always get up at this hour," she says. "Make some coffee, go through my paperwork before heading into the office, and –"
Violet's shoulders droop, and I despise that my immediate reaction is my lizard brain shouting, "Fix it! Fix whatever is making the woman sad! Make the woman happy!"
"I'm sorry that you can't go into the shelter," I say gently. "You do understand why. Is it worth going to the shelter if you're risking your safety or that of your sisters?"
"Oh, don't worry about them." She still can't take her eyes off my chest, and her gaze keeps sinking lower before she forces herself to focus on my face.
My cold plunge tub is on the brick terrace just outside the mudroom.
She must've seen me through the kitchen door.
"The real challenge here," she says, "is going to be getting Iris and Rose crowbar-ed out of this house once it's safe.
They're in heaven. Unlimited gourmet food, your theater room, and endless attractive, tattooed man to torment. "
Violet leans against the doorway, arms folded, pushing her breasts higher, which I appreciate. "What did you tell your guards, by the way? No matter what my tag team of twins from hell do, I've noticed your men have a strict hands-off policy."
"That's because they know that I'll chop their dick off if they pull it out," I say, smiling pleasantly.
I do enjoy the genuinely anguished expressions of my men as they escape the clutches of Rose and Iris.
"Don't tell them this because it will just flatter them, but they have gotten concerningly close a couple of times to making my men break," I say.
"We might need to find something for them to do. "
"That's why I wish I could take them into the shelter with me," she says. "They really enjoy working there with the kids and now that school's out for summer, I need more volunteers during the day."
"I'll send some of my men down," I offer.
"That's very thoughtful." She is unimpressed by my offer. "If I ever need someone to teach knife play or murder, I'll make sure to put them on the payroll."
"Oh no, sweet Violet. If you need an education on knife play or murder, you come directly to me." I'm a little distracted, picturing her with those tiny shorts yanked off her body, a strap ripped on that top with my mouth fastened on her nipple and again, my cock doesn't care how cold it is.
"On that note, I'm going to go make coffee," she says hastily. "Can I make you a cup?"
"If you would." Lifting myself from the cold plunge tub, the water sluices off me and Violet yelps, spinning around as if she's never seen a dick before.
Given how prim she is, that's entirely possible.
I'd almost tag her for 'lights out and eyes closed' sex, but then I remember how she reacted in the bondage room that night at the club.
Sweet little Violet has hidden depths.
"In all seriousness, what do you do for self-defense?" We're sitting at the built-in booth in the corner of the kitchen, next to a big window that looks out on my side yard. There's a low buzz of lawn equipment, my neighbor's gardeners are industriously trimming hedges.
"What do you mean?"
"If a meth-head attacks you at the shelter," I clarify, "or a belligerent drunk won't leave you alone at a club, how do you handle it?"
Her brow wrinkles. "I notify security?"
"By the time the overweight rent-a-cop gets to your location," I say, "the meth-head has snapped your neck like a glow stick or the drunk dragged you out into the parking lot and he's tearing off your clothes."
"You have a very sinister view of the world." Violet gets up to fetch the coffee pot and my head tilts as I enjoy a leisurely view of her shapely ass. "Though, recent events seem to be proving you correct."
"Knowing how to use a gun and some simple self-defense moves are mandatory," I say, finishing my coffee. "Go put on some leggings and a comfortable top you can move in."
"Absolutely not!" She's appalled. "I don't want to even touch a gun."
An hour and a half later…
Well, damn. Violet is a natural.
Within ten minutes, she'd perfected her firing stance and now she's successfully putting bullets into a tidy center-mass grouping on the paper target.
Pulling my headphones off, I step onto the range and unclip the paper. "V tikhoy lagune obitayut d'yavoly," I say, eyeing the bullet holes.
"What does that mean?" She carefully lays the pistol on the counter.
"It's an old Russian saying." I show her the target. "'In a quiet lagoon, devils dwell.' It means never trust a quiet woman, she's creating a diabolical plan."
Her smile is enigmatic. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"Of course not."
"How is it that you just happened to have a gun range five minutes from your house and it's stocked with weapons?" She checks to make sure the clip is empty before handing me the pistol.
"The Morozov Bratva is very big on being prepared. You made sure the gun wasn't loaded, good girl." I lean close, whispering in her ear. She sucks in a breath, shivering.
Ah, she likes that. Good.
Pulling out a Glock, I show her how to load it. "Let's try something bigger. I want to see you adjust your grip for a heavier weapon."
Truthfully? I just want another excuse to stand behind her with my hands on her body, 'correcting' her stance. I'm a sick bastard.
"Woah, my arms are shaking," she says.
"You're tired," I say, my hands on her hips. "Do you want to stop?"
She shakes her head, her glossy hair brushing against my cheek. "No, this is the cool Hollywood gun, right? The big kind they use in the movies when they want to look badass?"
Wrapping my arms around her, I laugh, shaking us both. "And here I thought you were such a proper little thing, sweet Violet."
"You're lucky the Glock isn't loaded yet," she says crossly. I push my luck and hand her the clip.
"Back to basics, widen your stance." I nudge her legs wider. "Dominant hand high on the backstrap."
Violet's breath is coming faster, she's sagging against me a bit.
"Focus…" She's wearing a tight blue tank top and I run my hands along her waist and her ribs, fingertips just brushing under her breasts. "Control your breathing." She pulls in a shuddering little gasp. My dick is so hard that it's rubbing against my zipper.
"Squeeze."
She does. The shot goes wild because she's already on tiptoe, pressing her mouth against mine, fiery hot, and so fucking good.