37. Nik
This restaurant is the last place I want to be right now, especially after spending the past week home with Luna.
A discreet doorman in a tailored uniform greets me in front of sleek glass doors framed with polished brass accents. Meeting Luka, Salvatore, and Kieran for lunch is out of the norm, but we have business to discuss.
Neutral tones and rich mahogany with soft, muted lighting are some of the first things I notice when I step inside. The second thing is Salvatore Buscetta. He’s the first to arrive, and I find myself standing in the foyer, trying to temper my rage.
“Can I help you?” a hostess asks.
“I’m meeting some people. I see one of them over there. Thanks.” She nods at me, and I stride over to where Salvatore is sitting.
“Mr. Buscetta,” I say, joining him at the table.
“Nikolai.”
The fine linen tablecloth drapes over my legs as I take my seat, and I find myself idly fiddling with its hem.
I push the crystal stemware away from me and sit back in the plush velvet chair. Would Luna like this place? I smirk, thinking about our second training lesson later today. Yesterday, we trained for over an hour in the warehouse gym. It was incredible watching her take to some moves so quickly. And every brush of her skin against mine, every stroke—it was maddening.
“Can I get you anything to drink, sir?” The waiter stands next to me, hands clasped behind his back. I’m embarrassed to admit I didn’t even notice him approach.
“Vodka, straight.” The bar to our right appears well stocked with premium spirits, so I’m hoping their vodka doesn’t disappoint.
A few minutes later, Kieran and Luka join us, each grabbing a drink and casually joining the conversation. The way Salvatore is laughing, like he didn’t just throw his daughter to the sharks, makes me want to pick up my fork and stab him in the eye. But I remain a loyal Bratva follower, waiting for Luka to get on with it so I can get the hell out of here.
“Kieran’s man on the inside has divulged that the Eight from New York will be meeting off-site on Thursday.”
My ears perk up, and instead of throwing eye daggers at my father-in-law, I listen to Luka.
“Are we making a move?”
While Luna has been having nightmares, I’ve been having dreams—sweet dreams of killing every single one of those eight men. They think they can take my wife and play games with the Bratva? I’ll send them all to an early grave.
Luka knows this is what I’m thinking. I can tell by his expression.
“The Bratva is willing to assume this if Salvatore and Kieran are on board.”
What?
“Kieran? What does this have to do with Boston? And Salvatore left Luna to rot. They shouldn’t have a say.” I throw back my drink and slam my glass down.
“Nikolai.” Luka’s stern voice means I’ve gone too far. “Kieran is the source of our information, and it would be irresponsible to put a target on their backs because of their help. And the Cosa Nostra, as you know, is aligned with us. They would be providing men for this as well.”
I slump back in my chair, impatience gnawing at me.
“We will provide equal men for any operation,” Salvatore says.
“Oh, really?” I snark out.
“Nikolai,” Luka barks at me, and I shut my mouth. He continues, “We will be making a move on this meeting. Nik, you will lead. I want eight men from the Cosa Nostra, and the Bratva will supply eight as well.” He turns to Kieran. “We’ll support any blowback in Boston if it occurs. Also, I want Senator Hope dropped into a cell. He’s mine to deal with.”
There’s a part of me that wants to do the same with Mr. Rose. Take the time to slowly kill him. However, I want EV out of New York as quickly as possible. My hope is that they won’t reestablish here.
“Sounds good. Think they assume we’ll be making a move?” I ask.
“There’s no doubt they expect a move. That’s most likely why they changed their meeting location. They don’t know Kieran has a man on the inside,” Luka says.
I glance around the restaurant. Salvatore has several men placed along the perimeter—so does Luka and Kieran. The Eight will also have their own guards during the meet. Probably quite a few of them.
“I’ll put together the plan and send it over,” I say, rising to leave. I nod to Salvatore and Kieran and pause when I get to Luka, seeking permission to step away. He grants it with the dip of his head, and I proceed toward the door.
Four days from now, I get to make EV pay.
When I get down to the gym, Luna’s already there, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she practices some of the jabs I taught her during our last session. She’s dressed in all black, and her long hair is pulled back in a ponytail that I want to wrap around my fist. Her razorback top does nothing to quell my imagination.
I lean against the door frame and watch her. Her expression is concentrated, and there are embers in her eyes as she punches the air. Letting my gaze fall down her body, I take in her perfect figure, lingering on her backside.
She notices me in the doorway and drops her hands, smiling while shrugging her shoulders. I rub my thumb across my bottom lip and allow her to see my perusal of her. I chuckle when she narrows her eyes at me.
“Just going to stand there?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.
“Maybe.” I wink at her, and a flush breaks out over the apples of her cheeks.
“What are we learning today?”
I push away from the wall and join her on the training mats. At my instruction, my men moved the gym equipment out of the way so we could have a reasonable amount of space to train. I bounce on the cushiony material and stretch out my arms.
“Worried about pulling a muscle?” she jokes.
“Nah, just warming up.”
“Mhmm.” She circles me, her sneakers sticking to the mat.
“We’re going to touch on the below strike.” I walk behind her, toeing her legs apart. “Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, elbows slightly bent.”
She follows the simple instructions. I guide her through pivoting her body and using her hips—which I can’t seem to take my hands off of—to generate power for the strike.
“Strike the attacker with the pointed part of your elbow, aiming for sensitive body parts. Face, throat, and ribs work. Let’s try it.”
I move around and come at her from the side. Switching to the balls of her feet, she rotates, using an elbow to poke my ribs.
“Like that? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t worry about hurting me. We’re going through the motions.”
She smiles, and now I can’t focus. Watching Luna doing something about her fear, and learning to defend herself, is sexy.
I decide on two more escape drills.
“If an attacker grabs your wrist—” I take a hold of her wrist, fanning my thumb across the soft underside. She looks up at me through thick lashes, her pulse fluttering. “Rotate your wrist in the direction of the attacker’s thumb while pulling away. Then create distance.”
“Okay,” she says, trying to pull away without shifting her wrist in the right direction.
I hold fast to her, and she struggles. Her nostrils flare as she tries to pry my grip off her wrist. I yank her to me, and she collides with my chest, her mouth panting close to mine. Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip. I lean forward, holding her eyes.
“You aren’t turning your wrist the right way. Come on, Luna. Where’s the spark?”
Her mouth parts, and she yanks away, freeing herself. But only because I let go.
“Try again.”
“Gosh, you’re bossy.” She stalks toward me and I snatch her wrist once again. This time, she twists toward my thumb and pulls down, breaking the connection.
“There you go. Nice work.”
We practice several more times before moving on to another front attack move.
“If someone approaches from the front and wraps their arms around you, downward force is your best friend. Immediately drop to your knees, lowering your center of gravity.”
I approach her, wrapping her in a large bear hug. Her scent hits me and want thrums through me. Shit.
She drops by bending her knees.
“Okay. Now, from here you can do a couple of things. Stomping on a foot is a good option, followed by one of our practiced elbow strikes to the ribs. Should give you enough time to create some distance.”
We practice again, and she doesn’t hold back stomping on my foot. It actually hurts. Then she elbows me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me.
“That’s great, Luna,” I huff out, catching my breath.
“Awe, did I actually hurt you?” she says with a smirk, her “awe” dripping with sarcasm.
I approach her again, gathering her into a hold.
Knowing what to do, she ducks down, ready to stomp, but I anticipate the move. I wrap my leg around her back legs, dropping her to the mat. My body falls on top of hers, weight distributed on my forearms. Her eyes trail up my exposed arms, fingertips tracing over my biceps.
“Come on, Moonbeam, where’s the fire?” I give her a wink and a wide grin, but she doesn’t smile. She holds my stare, her warm irises pulling me deeper into madness. The desire to touch her aches in my chest, but I need her to make the first move. There’s so much affection for Luna—more than I’ve ever felt before.
I push up and rock back to sit, then pull her to a stand with me. My hands move of their own accord, fingertips stroking up both her arms in tandem. The sparks between us ignite into an unquenchable flame.
“Don’t start something you’re not going to finish, Nik.”
I freeze. I’m taken aback by not only her words, but her tone. It’s sure and unwavering—so much different from the Luna I met on our wedding day.
My heart hammers in my chest. Confused, I take a step back. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t do relationships, Nik. Everyone knows that. I don’t want—I can’t just have fun with you like that. I’m not wired that way.”
“You’re my wife. Pretty sure that’s as relationship as it gets.”
She flushes and marches over to the water cooler, where she downs a paper cup of water and tosses it in the trash before turning to look at me. She sighs. “You know what I mean.”
I stalk over and tug her to me. My hands move to frame her face, and I pull it close to mine. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m mad for you, Luna.”
Her breath hitches on an inhale, but she doesn’t seem to release it. Longing courses through me, but before I can decide which part of her I want to kiss first, Luna surges up onto her toes and presses her lips to mine.
An electric jolt shocks me, and a small hum leaves Luna. I trace her lips with my tongue, savoring her sweet taste. She parts for me, her tongue seeking mine, and I oblige.
I tilt her head for better access, exploring her mouth and grazing her lower lip with my teeth. She pulls at my shirt, and I walk her backward until I’m slamming her into the wall. A gasp rips her mouth from mine, and I move to her neck, scraping my teeth along her delicate skin. Soothing every nip with my tongue.
Her head falls back against the wall, her eyes flutter shut, and a moan falls from her as I ravage her neck. How can she taste this good?
I crave her.
All of her.
Her throat bobs as she swallows, and the movement lights a fire under me. I press into her, molding our bodies together. But I still don’t feel like we’re close enough.
“I’ve pictured my hands on you ever since that night in the library—I’ve needed my hands on you.”
She whimpers.
Bending down, I grip her behind her thighs; then I’m hauling her up and throwing her over my shoulder.
She shrieks and I chuckle, allowing my fingers to trail over the curve of her bottom.
I fling open the gym door and make my way to the apartment steps. Frank is stationed at the bottom.
“Sir?” he asks.
Ignoring him, I ascend the stairs. Luna laughs behind me and scrambles for purchase against my back.
I plow through the door and set her down, then quickly turn to shut and lock it.
There will be zero interruptions.
When I whirl back to her, Luna has pulled her top off. The sports bra she’s wearing is pink and vibrant compared to the black of her leggings.
She backs away with every step I take toward her, biting her lower lip and dragging it out of her mouth. When she finally hits the kitchen counter, I use my thumb to pull her lip free.
We both stand there, desire taut between us. Her eyes soften as she reaches for me, her hands coming up behind my neck, and she kneads my muscles. Then, she kisses me, slow and steady. Goosebumps break out over her arms, and I lift her to the counter. Instantly, her legs wrap around my hips. Pressing against me, she moans, urging me on.
“Luna …” I reach for her, wanting to play her body to a perfect tune. “May I?”
Her voice is breathy as she sighs out, “Take me to the bedroom, Nik.”