Chapter Twenty-One
Mind y
Maron's voice jolts me awake.
I sit up abruptly with my head spinning. "Wake up, Mindy," he says, a sense of urgency in his tone.
"What?" I grumpily reply, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the remnants of a fitful slumber. As reality slowly sets in, memories from the past couple of hours flood my mind – being tucked into Maron’s car against my will, the hospital visit, getting back in Maron’s car to drive to the airport. It all seems like a distant memory. The only thing that feels real is the intoxicating oaky scent that still lingers in my nostrils.
"Where are we?" I groggily ask.
"At the airport," Maron answers, his voice snapping me out of my daze. "The plane is waiting."
I push myself up, feeling like an airport is the last place I want to be right now. It’s late and I'm exhausted, hungry, and disoriented. I want to sink back into the warmth of the car seat. I must have dozed off on the way here. My body is aching for the comfort of a real bed and a good night’s sleep. But even as I try to cling to the fleeting moments of rest, a nagging thought invades my mind – Dr. Walker's email. The glimmer of hope treatment that could save my mother's life... at a cost that makes my head reel.
Even before I’m fully awake, my mind is running the numbers, trying to calculate the costs. Ninety-two minus thirty-four... that’s fifty-eight. Thousand, of course. The daunting figure bounces around in my mind, seeming impossible, no matter how hard I try to come up with a solution. I really don’t know how to get that kind of money without stripping at Kevin’s joint every night, being yelled at and propositioned by drunken billionaires.
As we step out of the car, a blast of cold air smacks me in the face. I wrap my cardigan around myself, shivering. "Holy crap, it’s freezing out here," I mumble. I'm still dressed in my performance outfit, complete with high heels. The wind whips through the airfield, causing my hair to dance in the chilly air. Maron walks up next to me, gently guiding me towards a sleek private jet that shines like a beacon in the dark. "What is this?" I ask, curious.
"It's called an airplane. Have you seen one before?" Maron says with a chuckle.
I wrinkle my nose. "No need to be sarcastic," I retort. "You would have asked the same question if you were in my shoes."
He leans closer to me. "I can answer all your questions after takeoff, lisichka ," he says, taking my hand. "But we need to go. Pavel is waiting."
"Pavel? The same Pavel who kidnapped me off the streets of New York and tucked me in your car against my will?"
"No need to be sarcastic," he smirks. "And yes, the same Pavel. He's my second-in-command and will be our pilot today."
“ Our pilot?”
“Yes.”
"Does he even have a license?"
Maron stops and turns to face me, his expression serious. He gives me a stern look. "Enough questions, for now."
"You can't just force me onto a plane!" I protest. "I have the right to know what's going on!"
"When did this become a democracy? I already explained this," Maron snaps back. "We're flying to Moscow for a few days. You'll have everything you need once we get there. That's all you need to know for now."
I open my mouth to argue, but then quickly close it again. This is insane, I think to myself. Completely and utterly insane. What the hell is happening in my life? I few days ago I was plain Jane in a corporate job trying to make ends meet, and now, I’m about to get on a private jet to fly to Moscow? A few hours after being practically kidnapped?
Suddenly, Maron's demeanor softens and he cups my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. "You'll be okay, Mindy. Trust me on this."
I give him a doubtful look and shake my head. The wind howls through my mind, making me feel chilled to the bone. "How do you expect me to trust you? I barely know you!” I throw my hands up in exasperation.
He stares into my eyes and holds my face firmly. “You have no other choice, lisichka.”
Asshole.
I don’t say anything back. I’m certain it would be useless.
My legs wobble like jelly as I awkwardly ascend the stairs. As I enter the interior of the plane and the door behind me shuts, a sigh of relief escapes my lips. "It’s a lot warmer in here," I say, still shivering.
"Take a minute to thaw out," Maron replies, smirking. The comforting warmth surrounds me, easing the tension in my body.
As I look around, my jaw drops in awe. Holy Mother of Christ. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we’re inside a luxury suite. The plane reeks of wealth. No, it’s not even a plane, it's a flying penthouse. The interior is unlike anything I've ever seen before - all plush leather seats and gleaming chrome, worlds away from the cramped economy class I'm used to.
Maron gestures for me to take a seat, his eyes not leaving mine. "Make yourself comfortable," he says. "It will be a long flight to Moscow."
"Is this your plane?" I ask, my mouth still hanging open in amazement.
Maron nods and grins. "Want to take a closer look?"
He leads me through the interior, and I can't help but gape at the sheer extravagance of it all. The living room is a study in opulence, with plush velvet sofas that seem to beckon me to sink into their depths. Yes, there is a living room . At least that’s what Maron calls it. In the middle of it, a huge flat-screen TV flickers to life as we pass, displaying a breathtaking aerial view of the city below.
"Wow," I breathe, running my fingers over the gleaming mahogany tables. "This is beautiful."
Maron smiles, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Wait till you see the rest."
He guides me to the kitchen, and my jaw drops all over again. He could run a freaking cooking show here if he wanted. Sleek stainless steel appliances glint under the soft lighting. I trail my hand over the marble countertops, marveling at the cool, smooth texture.
The bathroom also takes my breath away, with its huge marble tub and rainfall shower. I’ve never been the gold digger type or a sucker for luxury, but dammit, I can't help but imagine myself lounging in that tub, surrounded by fragrant bubbles and soft candlelight.
"This looks incredible," I tell Maron. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Glad you like it," he says, still smirking.
We make our way back to the main cabin, where a dining table is set with gleaming silver and crystal. Maron disappears for a moment, then reappears, followed by a server with a tray of food.
"You like salmon?" he asks, arranging the slices artfully on a bed of greens.
My mouth begins to water at the sight, and I nod in response. "Who doesn’t?" I tell him, holding back the fact that I can’t even remember the last time I had salmon for dinner.
A plate is being placed in front of me, and I take a bite. The flavors explode on my tongue, rich, buttery, and utterly divine. "Oh my God," I moan, my eyes fluttering closed in bliss. "It tastes amazing."
Maron watches me, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Enjoy, lisichka ."
We eat in silence for a few minutes, savoring the delicate flavors and the smooth, chilled champagne the server poured for us. I can't help but feel a sense of unreality wash over me – I feel like a 21’st-century Alice in Wonderland, stepping into a bizarre dream world where anything is possible.
"Thank you for dinner. It was delicious," I tell Maron, patting my satisfied stomach. "But you know, it's still a little fuzzy why I’m here."
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" he retorts with an air of superiority.
Typical.
My eyebrow raises. "Oh, excuse me for having questions," I ponder aloud, pretending to mull it over. "First, you give me the boot from my job, then follow me to the dive bar where I croon for money, and now you're whisking me away on your fancy floating penthouse to Russia. Sounds like a perfectly normal sequence of events."
He pushes himself away from his seat, moving dangerously close to me. My body responds with a rush of arousal. "You can thank those photos you sent me last week."
Asshole .
"But now," he says, sinking back into his seat, "I want to hear your answer to my offer, Mindy."
I take a deep, shuddering breath. My heart begins to pound in my chest. I wasn’t prepared for this. Hell, I wasn’t even prepared to see him tonight. But Maron Korolev is not the kind of man you defer. I know I have to give him an answer. I just didn’t expect to do it so soon.
Once again, my mind drifts back to all the reasons I’m doing this: my mother, my sister, and let’s not forget the email Dr. Walker sent me earlier.
Dammit, Mindy, what’s even making you hesitate?
You have no job, no money, just a shady bar gig in NYC High.
What you do have is a sick mother, and an addict sister to take care of.
And you have guilt.
Guilt that’s been weighing down on you ever since the accident you caused.
This is your chance to make things right.
"I'll take it," my voice trembles, as I say the words. "I have already signed the contract."
"Smart girl. You made the right choice," he states. I study his face intently, trying to decipher his emotions. Is he satisfied? Or does he simply not care, knowing I had no choice but to agree? His expression remains neutral. "Where's the document?" he asks.
"It's in my car back in New York."
"Why didn't you give it to me yet?"
Really?
"Gee, let me think," I say. "Maybe because I was too busy getting abducted to remember to bring your precious document with me." I roll my eyes. "Next time, I'll make sure to pack all my important paperwork before getting kidnapped. Lesson learned."
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Maron's face, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. "I love a fiery woman," he murmurs. "You're right. We'll take care of the paperwork as soon as we're back in New York. But first," he stands up and takes my hand. His grip is firm and possessive. "There's one room I haven't shown you yet. And I think it's time we rectify that."
Before I can react or say anything, he pulls me close and locks his lips with mine. Arousal courses through me once again. I’m not sure how long I can take this without finding release. Our tongues dance along my parted lips. Then, he gently takes my bottom lip between his teeth and stretches it out. I shut my eyes tightly and let out a soft cry. His tongue laps at my cheek once more, and his hand holds me firmly in place. He grips my face tighter as he licks up my entire cheek before sinking his teeth into my earlobe.
Holy mother of fuck.
A series of tiny electric shocks race across my spine, my body is on fire, and as for the part between my legs - I’m not even going to elaborate on that.
"You taste like fucking heaven, lisichka ," he whispers, his breath hot and ragged against my ear.
“Ohhh,” I moan, not having the mental clarity to say anything coherent. His free hand slides down my hip and down between my legs, teasing the sensitive skin there, sending waves and waves of pleasure into my core. His fingers dip inside my panties, exploring the moist depths.
"You’re so fucking wet for me," he groans, and I buck my hips into his hand in response. His tongue and lips continue to explore my cheeks, tracing the contours of my jawline before diving back into my mouth. Our tongues dance together, tasting each other in a slow sultry rhythm.
The scent of his cologne mixes with the taste of him, making me light-headed with need. I wrap my arms around him, holding on tight as he pierces the space between my lips with his tongue, sucking gently. A low rumble vibrates from his chest as he strokes my slick pussy. With every stroke, he burrows deeper, finding the perfect spot to make my body squirm and gasp for air.
His teeth scrape down my neck lightly before trailing gentle kisses along my jawline and collarbone. My body continues to tremble under his touch; I can feel how hard he is for me - he wants this as badly as I do. And if that’s even possible, it only makes the heat between my legs grow even more.
He continues to kiss me until I'm left breathless, until every sensitive nerve in my body is aching with a desire ready to explode. I crave him with an intensity that almost terrifies me.
Then he pulls away. I'm a panting mess with swollen lips and a tingling core. He then looks at me with a knowing smirk, his eyes dark with lust.
"Come with me, baby girl," he murmurs, tugging me towards a door. "Let me show you what else is included in our little arrangement."
Without warning, he lifts me up, making my body feel weightless as I cling to him. I wrap my legs tightly around his waist. My sex pulsates with aching desire.But it’s not just my sex that pulsates. My entire body is thrumming with anticipation as he carries me to the bedroom.
For a fleeting second, I'm aware that maybe I should be having second thoughts. But I don't. I can’t. At this moment, all I can think about is Maron Korolev's rough hands on my skin, his hungry lips on mine, the unreal chemistry we have, and whatever experiences await us.