Chapter Sixteen – Maria
Shit. Shit. Shit!
That shouldn’t have come out.
That should never have come out.
What was I thinking, asking him that?
Oh, Maria .
If I wasn’t already struggling with anxiety and composure issues, I might have as well run a hand down my face and blurted an apology for delving into something that was none of my business.
He stared at me like I’d lost a few nuts upstairs, and I could perfectly understand why. I’d crossed the boundaries, hopped over the line, and waved a bright green flag, saying that I thought of him as something else besides being my boss.
To another’s ears, it might have sounded innocent, merely a question borne out of sheer nosiness. But we both knew it was anything but innocent.
It meant I cared. I cared enough to envision what his life would be like beyond the walls of dark suits and guns. I cared enough to know if he imagined a life like that, possibly with me in it. I’d shown him I wanted more than just a peek behind the curtains. I wanted more—to share stories, envision, and imagine together .
Stupid.
With just that question, I’d officially crossed the line of sex and nothing else.
Again, what was I thinking?
“Maria…” he called out to me. But I wasn’t listening.
Many thoughts rolled in my mind like a billowing storm. The very same thoughts that had pushed me to ask him that question in the first place.
More Questions. Heaps and heaps of them. Wanting to know more and not heeding the warning to be content with less. I could no longer hold them in. Although I needed a boost to help loosen my tongue.
Right on time, a waiter passed with another tray full of what I assumed to be red wine. I picked out two glasses for myself, threw my head back, and gulped one down on the spot.
“I’m sorry,” I rambled. “I probably shouldn’t be asking you that, but it’s been long overdue. I have so many questions….”
Like how in the world were two enemies so cordial with each other, maintaining smiles and laughter, even if Benjamin had most of the expressions?
Following the macabre details I’d heard about the old man and his nightmarish feud with Roman’s father, it would have made more sense for them to smash bottles on the table once they caught sight of each other and attack.
Their modus operandi needed some querying.
“You said you were going to answer them. Maybe now is not a good time, but if I nurse them any longer, I might explode.”
Roman was calm, as he always was, studying me with not a flicker of an expression. And when he eliminated the distance between us and growled, “The only time you’ll be permitted to explode is when I’m inside you. If not, keep your shit together,” I suddenly felt hot all over.
Like a struck matchstick.
Like a lit candle melting into a puddle of wax under the fire.
Like smoke produced during combustion.
Focus, Maria.
“Fine.” I tightened my lips and squeezed my thighs together—efforts to concentrate. “I won’t. But you have to know being kept in the dark for long only piques a person’s interest.”
“What are your questions?”
I didn’t expect him to oblige so quickly.
I downed the second glass and felt the effect beginning to slowly kick in. His eyes darkened as they drank me in, lingered on my lips, and swept down, touching all the places his hands couldn’t in that space.
He looked mad, tempted, and frustrated at the same time. I guessed that there was a lot he wanted to say. Nevertheless, he bridled his tongue.
That sexy tongue of his.
Focus.
“Let’s start from here: What’s Level One?” I’d heard Lev talking about it in his office and made a mental note to ask.
His shoulder made the most nonchalant shrug before he said, “It would be boring to call it a torture chamber or the dungeon, which were all my ideas, by the way, but Lev thought we’d stick with Level One.”
It made sense that those awful, archaic ideas would be his. I tipped the rim of the empty glass. “Level One is in the house?”
“Yes. There’s a spacious underground compartment in the building plan.” He spoke in a hard baritone, conveying absolutely no emotion. “There’s also a room full of weapons. And cars.”
Silence.
Oh, but I’d accidentally stumbled into the room with weapons one time. Was it sad that I’d been impressed by the array of his up-to-date collections?
I bit the inside of my cheek.
Maybe now would have been a good time to feel disgusted or appalled by the revelation that he had a torture chamber-slash-dungeon in an underground compartment in his house.
Adding a dramatic wine throw at his face and screaming, “Monster!” before I ran out of the hall like some pathetic, heartbroken Cinderella might have done the trick.
But somehow, hidden behind all that hardness and his poker face, he knew I wouldn’t.
I knew I wouldn’t
I wasn’t Cinderella. But I was pathetic.
I sighed. “Next question.”
“Throw.”
Another server passed, and I reached for another glass. He grabbed my hand, stopping me. “Should probably take it easy with the glasses.”
My eyes narrowed, and I withdrew my hand. “Who exactly are you?”
He tucked a hand into his pocket and stared above my head for the briefest second before looking back down. “I am who I’ve been from the first time you saw me.”
I flashed a pretend smile. “Gee, thanks for not being vague.”
A sliver of amusement crossed his lips. It was clear he wasn’t going to answer that, so I pushed more.
“Saying you’re a Russian crime family, wielding guns, having torture chambers, or any of that stuff doesn’t explain anything. I heard your portfolio.” He was aware that I referred to the things Benjamin had said about him.
“And all of a sudden, you don’t know me?”
If I had not known Roman Varkov, the man without a shred of emotions, I might have thought he sounded offended.
“No, I don’t.”
But I want to know you.
I withheld my tongue from adding that part.
He snorted and, this time, snatched a glass from a tray and swallowed everything with one mouthful.
The selfish bastard.
“No answers?”
He didn’t say anything.
Furious, I jumped right to the next question, even when all my internal organs screamed, “Abort mission!”
“Do you have trouble sleeping at night?”
That got his attention, and his eyes snapped to mine, guarded. “Why?”
I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous under his scrutiny. Or maybe it was the insane amount of alcohol I’d had in three hours.
“The starry ceiling lights.”
The look he gave me made my heart sink to the depths of my stomach. Gone was the placid mask. Now, his gaze burned with an unexplainable fury. Almost similar to immense pain. And I instantly understood why.
Secrets. He had loads and loads of them.
He opened his mouth to say something when a tall, dark-haired man suddenly appeared beside us, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Roman with a casual air.
“You made it,” Roman said. His voice was neutral and handshake firm.
I watched with interest, wondering if this was another enemy in the making because, with these men, anything was possible. He could have been Roman’s childhood nemesis, yet they’d strike up conversations like the best of friends.
I listened for more, but to my surprise, they launched into a conversation in rapid-fire Russian, their words lost on me.
I felt uneasy, being excluded from the conversation.
The man mentioned Polina, and Roman responded easily to my amazement.
But my ears perked up, my mind racing, and his eyes flicked to me.
He smiled, his voice dripping with charm. “Finally, Maria…” he said in English, and then more Russian.
My heart skipped a beat, and I swore I normally didn’t eavesdrop on people’s conversations, but I was determined to learn more.
Thankfully, they both saved me the stress because he turned his attention to me now with an extended hand.
“Name’s Eduard. It is a pleasure to finally meet the Maria Simmons.” He wore a good-natured but impish grin. “I have heard a lot about you.”
Roman narrowed his eyes at the man, but it didn’t scorch long enough to cause any damage.
I shook his hand firmly before letting go. “Good things, I hope?”
“Only the best.” He dusted his jacket. “Thank you for saving my niece.”
Ah!
It finally clicked, the reason why staring at this man made me feel like Roman’s doppelganger had ambushed me.
The rich and throaty baritone, with a rumble to it like a manly purr, was exactly the same as Roman’s.
So were his eyes, that same ocean-blue color.
That same brilliance. That same brutality.
Their resemblance was so canny and yet so distinguished and unique.
He stood there in a perfectly cut black Armani suit and beautiful black leather shoes. His shoulders were wide and strong, like his brother’s.
Uncle Ed, also formally known as Eduard Varkov. The brother to the man that made my emotions go haywire. After Polina’s love for brownies, talking about her Uncle Ed came next.
The men got talking again, and I excused myself, slipping away from their conversation for a drink.
The music and laughter in the room seemed to swell, and I made my way to the bar. The bartender, a charming blond with tattoos on his forearm and a smile on his face, asked for my order.
"A glass of whatever’s the best tonight,” I replied, my eyes scanning the shelf behind him.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” a thick voice said from beside me, and I spun. “Whatever’s the best tonight might not be the best for you,” she added with a grin, her doe brown eyes sparkling under the light. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail, and she wore a complimentary black dress that stopped just above her knees.
She looked dazzling and familiar.
“Madelyn?”
She swished her ponytail, beaming. “The one and only.”
I enveloped her in a hug, my surprise and delight evident in my squeal of excitement. "Madelyn! Oh, my God, what are you doing here?”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I happen to know the person in charge of the special VIP pass, and, you know me, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see the fancy dresses and suits up close.”
We laughed and immediately launched into catching up on each other's lives.
Since high school, she’d always been the social butterfly, more proactive and outgoing than the rest of us. Her ability to combine academics with a bustling life had always been a mystery.
As we talked, I couldn't help but notice that I didn’t feel very nostalgic, like I’d made peace and accepted the version my life had become. But even as I laughed and reminisced with her, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck.
I turned, and my eyes locked onto his piercing gaze, his eyes fixed on me even as he continued to talk to his brother and someone else I didn’t recognize.
A delicious shiver ran down my spine, his intensity palpable even from across the room. It was as if he could see right through me, into the depths of my soul.
I turned back to Madelyn, my heart racing and pounding as I wondered what ran through his mind. Did he feel as hot as I did right now? Was there an uncontrollable feeling to be near me as much as I wanted to be close to him?
Crazy imagination, Maria.
He was clearly talking about business and nothing more. And if he watched me, that was clearly his method of being vigilant.
I pushed the thoughts aside, focused on the present moment, and faced Madelyn, beaming hard enough to hinder her from seeing my disappointment. “What do you say, friend, drinks?”
***
“ Old McDonald had a farm…eyah, eyah, yooo….”
“And on the farm, he had a…uh, he had a man…eyah, eyah, yooo.”
He chuckled from the driver’s seat, and I’d never heard a sound sexier.
When I was sure I didn’t remember the following lyrics of the nursery song, I shuffled on my seat and faced him. He didn’t look at me as I expected him to. Then, again, he was driving.
I hiccupped. “Where’s Lev?”
“On official assignment,” he answered in a heartbeat. His jaw was clenched, eyes hard, and lips set in that sexy, sexy grim line.
“Okay. We’re alone, then.” I fanned my cheeks. “I’m hot in here. Are you hot?”
“No.”
I shuffled again so I was seated on my side, enjoying the full view of him on the wheels. He was so beautiful that it almost hurt to watch. “Roman?”
“Yes, Maria?”
“I think you have the most kissable lips on planet Earth.”
His jaw clenched, and then, he spared me the quickest glimpse. “You’re drunk.”
Abruptly, I busted into a fit of giggles and reached behind my dress. When I found the slim zip, I tugged it down, the dry sound sparking more tension in the silence between us.
“No, I’m not. I’m not drunk.”
He sighed. “Yes, you are. You’re intoxicated. I told you not to have any more drinks.”
My lips formed a pout. “Hey, you’re not the boss of me.” I giggled again. “But then again, you are, aren’t you? You’re my boss. My boss,” I repeated more slowly and whimpered, “All mine. The man on Old McDonald’s farm, with the most beautiful eyes, most beautiful body….”
I bit my lips, instantly feeling all the sensitive parts of my skin come alive. My nipples turned to hard pebbles in my bra, and I suddenly wanted his mouth on them.
“The most satisfying dick. The only man I know who fucks right.”
His jaw was clamped down so hard that I thought his teeth would shatter. His fingers tightened on the wheel until his knuckles turned white.
“You should stop talking.”
“Why?”
“Because….”
“ Because ?” I taunted, enjoying watching him grow hard. I was willing to bet that if I touched him right there, between his legs, he'd be big and hard, too. Just for me.
“I won’t take advantage of you.” It was a murmur under his breath, more like a warning to himself than to me.
“But I want you to.” I shut my eyes, imagining his strong, rough hands on my thighs. Touching me, squeezing me, slapping me right where I throbbed and ached for him. “I want your lips on mine, Roman. I want to uncover all those hard layers of yours, to know you, to feel you, to touch you. I want your dick in my mouth.”
My heart flew to my mouth when the car skidded to a stop. And my eyes snapped open, meeting his blistering gaze. Flames, lust, and ardent desire waged a dark storm in his eyes.
“Come here. Now.”
It was an order. One I readily obeyed.
Quietly, I moved from my seat and threw my legs over his, straddling him.
True enough to my internal bet, his erection poked through his pants, brushing against the thin fabric of my thong. I eyed him and rubbed my palm against his hard length. Agitated, I moved my hips, but he kept me still.
“If you regret this in the morning—"
“I won’t. Now stop talking and fucking kiss me already.”
Like a wild beast unleashed from its cage, with the permission to wreak havoc, his fingers went into my hair, and his mouth came crashing down on mine. His kisses were hot and heavy. The way I liked it. We moaned into our mouths, breathing heavily in anticipation of what was yet to come.
He nipped my lip with a sharp bite of his teeth and pulled back, eyes half-lidded when he spoke. “That’s for thinking you can order me around.”
Cupping his cheeks, I kissed him, long and hard. Then, I whispered against his lips, “You boss me around all the time.”
“That’s because I’m your boss.”
I smiled, like an idiot high on infatuation and something else I couldn’t place a finger on. “ My boss....”
“Tonight, we’re going to have to skip the ‘my dick your mouth part’. As much as I’d love that, I don’t think I have the patience.”
“You never have the patience.”
He slid his hand under my dress and drew the lacy strings on the thong, undoing them. The fabric came apart, and he tossed it to the passenger’s seat.
He brushed a thumb over my swollen clit with one hand and skillfully unfastened his belt with the other. I flicked my tongue against his lips and relished the rumble of his growl.
Without warning, he plunged a finger inside me, and I arched into him, moaning his name. “ Roman .”
He muttered something in Russian, along the lines of, “ Solinishko…” and kissed me harder.
My pussy clenched around his finger, and he shoved another inside me, sliding it in next to the first. I floated, then felt like I was flying. I rolled my hips against him, my juices trickling down his fingers.
When his fingers pushed deeper, my breath hitched, and I begged for his dick to be inside me. He jiggled his hand, pressed my clit, and sucked on my nape, pushing me farther and farther away to a land of waterfalls and cracked dams.
“I’m coming.”
“Fuck, no, you’re not,” he rasped and positioned his head above my entrance.
He placed one hand on my hip and thrust forward, his cock sliding between my legs, stretching me out, filling me up.
“ Oh—Roman….” I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his jacket as I accommodated his length. “ Yes.”
He cradled my back with his other hand and jerked forward again. And again. Giving it hard and soft at the same time.
“ Fuck—Yes….”
I was close to the edge—ready to fall. To let go.
His face fell to the crook of my neck, his dark, throaty grunts causing tremors on my skin. I was panting now, bouncing on his thighs, fucking myself harder onto the length buried inside me. Growing more and more frantic for a release.
He was close, too. I could tell with the way his fingernails dug into my ass and how he stiffened under me, drawing shaky breaths in puffs. He was vulnerable, letting me take as much as he was giving. Knowing I had that access to this man, the same man I’d presumed to be made of stone, sent me crashing like the tidal waves against the seashore.
The dams broke.
My toes curled, my head lolled back, and I saw the starry lights on his bedroom ceiling.
When we came, it was a violent convulsion that left us breathless. My chest heaved, and our eyes fell shut.
He held me tight, burying his face in my chest.
I ran my fingers through his damp hair and kissed his forehead. And together, we stayed in a silence that spoke more words than we ever could.