Chapter 33 Search Party #2
Mikko loosened his grip slightly, still holding her in place, but releasing the pressure off her throat. He didn’t want to stop touching her now that he’d started. “Better?”
Clearing her throat, she nodded. “Although I still have a burning desire to know what you read about me.” She released her hold on him just to twirl a strand of her hair.
“I wouldn’t want to inflate your ego more than I already have.”
“Of course,” she crooned, “you’d much rather seduce me with your nonexistent stealth.”
“I made myself known,” he countered.
“And I knew you were watching us moments before you announced yourself. Anger really does suit you, malysh.” His heart stopped. She’d echoed his term of endearment. “I just like to let you believe you’re in control. Gets me off in a way.”
Now he pressed into her, enjoying the way her breath stuttered from his body heat and the way the shrubs had to be poking into her delicate skin.
She continued to taunt him. “Not to mention, your big ass frame couldn’t hide in this maze even if you wanted to.”
He looked down at his frame between them, inspecting his height compared to her. “That’s cute coming from you,” he remarked. If her glare could cut him, he’d be in pieces.
“Imagine how tall I’d be if you were on your knees?” Somehow Mikko held in the cough threatening to slip from his mouth. Thank God for his balaclava.
But her honeyed eyes caught everything. Despite the inky darkness surrounding them, his own eyes had adjusted.
Anika’s face was calculating, her anger honed the features of her face into something deadly.
The fake buckle of her police outfit dug into his lower abdomen as she pressed back against his ironclad hold.
He hoped it left an impression on his skin.
The scent of her overwhelmed his senses and the smeared dark lipstick around her mouth painted Anika as a temptress. One he wanted to give into, desperately. Even knowing that it was Levi who had smeared her makeup…
“While enticing, I’d like to know why you’re killing my men before offering you my neck.” His tone was stern.
Her teeth flashed. “Is it really murder if it’s so therapeutic?”
“Answer me, Anika.”
“Imagine what you’ll feel like when more of your men start dropping like flies around you,” she drawled. “The feeling of finally being chosen as you’re the last one standing.”
“If you think I killed your dad—”
She swiftly cut him off. “I know you didn’t, but your daddy isn’t around to pay for his actions,” her eyes darkened and a mischievous grin appeared, “but you know who is?”
Mikko didn’t answer, didn’t want to give her any more diabolical ideas. She could do that all on her own.
Her finger trailed up his abdomen, his muscles clenching in her wake. “What about Cristiano, hmm? Do you think he would suffice as a sacrifice?”
“Don’t you dare even say his name—”
“Or you,” she spoke over him as her nail dug into the hollow of his throat. Only the thin layer of his mask protected him.
“Those are dangerous words to say to someone you hardly know,” he said, throat tight with unspoken emotions.
“You’re hardly a stranger to me, Mikko,” she replied. “In fact, there’s not much I don’t know about you.”
“Meeting a couple of times makes us acquaintances?” he asked.
“You tell me, you jerked off on my things.”
“Khoroshiy moment.” Good point.
She leaned in, pushing against his hand still resting upon her throat. “You’d be wise to not underestimate me.”
Using his knee, he pushed her legs apart, leaning in to intimidate her.
It didn’t work. In fact, she opened her legs wider, beckoning him in.
The heat of her cunt pressed against his thigh.
His mind shorted. She met his gaze with fire, challenging him with every passing second. “So, give me one good reason why I—”
Click.
Her costume handcuff snapped into place over his wrist holding her.
Panic and lust intertwined in his stomach, a mix of emotions he was growing to hate.
Part of him wanted her to make good on her threats, to torture and confine him, but another part of him was nervous.
His men were expendable, but she’d mentioned Cristiano. He was not.
Her dark brow lifted in question. “What was that?”
“Take it off me.”
“Give me one good reason why I should,” she mocked.
“So I don’t do something I regret.”
She licked her lips. “Like what?”
Mikko didn’t answer, he couldn’t. His mouth couldn’t be trusted when it came to her.
Yanking on the cuff, she taunted him further.
“What? Shy all of a sudden?” Shoving against him, he stepped back an inch, relenting to her.
“Scared I’ll see who you truly are.” He counted his breaths, struggling to keep his emotions locked away.
They thrummed in his blood, clawed out from beneath his skin, yet… “Mikko.”
All it took was one word, and he shattered.
Before she could stop him, Mikko lifted the hem of his mask up, exposing his mouth to the cool night air.
Anika’s gaze tracked his movements, pupils blown wide in disbelief.
Her mouth popped open in question, but nothing came out.
His lips slanted over hers, silencing whatever smartass remark she’d been formulating.
Levi’s cologne swirled between them, his presence tainting her clothing, but Mikko didn’t care.
She might’ve let Levi in, allowed him to have a taste, but Mikko would be sure to savor her too. He was a jealous man, but he’d play the game; he’d wait to see who she truly resonated with.
Me, me, me.
Her lips were soft against his, supple and plush as he devoured her.
A quiet moan slipped free from her lips, or maybe he was delusional and imagining things again, but he didn’t stop to analyze.
For once, he went with it. Lived in the moment.
And it felt right. Anika was something to be revered. Cherished.
His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, her lipstick sweet, or maybe that was just her, as it blossomed across his taste buds.
A roaring built in his ears, the nighttime din and party around them fading away.
Stars sparked behind his eyes as her hand grazed up along his arm.
Instantly, he was transported back to the night they met, her incessant touch unable to deviate from his skin.
Now, he wanted it—
Anika shoved him away, breathless gasps filling the space between them. He couldn’t go far, her stupid little handcuff still clasped in her hand. His balaclava fell back over his mouth, her lipstick surely smeared there.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Anika, I—”
Reaching out, she ripped his mask off. “You’re pathetic.”
“Seems like you have a type.”
“I do,” she quipped, “And that’s why you’re right where I want you.”
His jaw ticked. “I beg to differ.”
“I prefer it when you just beg.” A soft breath was the only audible noise in the edgy silence between his words. Her eyes narrowed, a deep whiskey color now in the low light. “You’re just like your father.”
Her words physically scalded him. Backing away, he shook his head. “You may think you know him, know me, but you don’t.”
Anika grabbed his wrist, warmth searing through his sleeve, “Mark my words, Mikko. We will meet again, and it’ll be on my terms.”
“Sounds like a poor excuse for when you come track me down.” He ripped his arm out of her grasp, plastic handcuff digging painfully into his wrist.
Anika said nothing, letting him back away, eyes tracking his every movement. Walking backwards, not trusting her, he made his way down the length of the maze.
As he was about to turn the corner, her voice echoed down the grassy expanse. “Don’t forget, I always remember a face. And I’ve seen yours enough that it haunts me.”
With a cold sweat breaking out over his skin and his mind spinning, he stumbled out of the maze.
After cracking the plastic, he finally got Anika’s prop off of him before resuming his search for Cristiano.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, a sharp crack of lightning zipping across the sky a couple miles away.
Things were going to get much worse before they got better.