16. Finn #2
Perhaps whatever she suffered at the hands of the monster she’s running away from taught her to stay silent, and fuck, this thought jolts me back to reality with a stab straight through the heart.
“I’m sorry.” I keep my voice low and steady. “I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Finn.” Because sure, my name is proof that I’m not a criminally insane psychopath. “I’ll stay right here while you go and find Gianna. If she’s here. I have one question for her, then I’ll be on my way.”
She doesn’t move. Her hands tremble, and I wonder if she’ll launch the dessert bowl she’s holding in my direction when panic takes hold.
But I’ll never know because voices reach us from the hallway outside the kitchen, and then Gianna appears with another woman who I’m guessing is a resident from the bruises on her arms that are fading to green, the dark circles under her eyes, and the protruding collarbones.
Gianna’s warm smile fades when her gaze lands on me. She darts a look at the woman standing by the sink and instinctively throws out an arm to protect the other woman behind her. “What do you want?”
“Gianna, my name is Finn Twomey. I work for Aiden Kavanagh.” I give her a couple of beats to allow my boss’s name to sink in. “I want to speak to you about Tamara.”
The enforcer’s name hits the mark.
“Jules, you can leave the dishes.” She addresses the woman standing by the sink. “I’ll take it from here.”
Jules’ gaze flits between us. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do.”
Her admission makes me feel even more of an asshole, and I’m already trying to think of a way to make this better once I’ve found Tamara.
Not money. The Ivanovs have plenty of that.
But perhaps I can make myself useful around the house.
Or offer my services as a bodyguard so that no other fucker can walk in off the street the way I did.
“You did nothing wrong.” Gianna crosses the room, takes the dish from the woman’s hand, and hugs her with her back to me. “I’m proud of you. You should never have been put in this situation, and I promise it will never happen again.”
That told me, and it’s no less than I fucking deserve.
She guides the two women back out of the kitchen and leaves the door ajar so that they know she has nothing to hide.
Then she turns around to face me, and my chest swells with admiration for her.
She’s the daughter of a Sicilian Don, is married to a Bratva Pakhan, and yet here she is protecting women from the monsters who hurt them with kind words and gentle actions.
“What do you want to know about Tamara?”
Leonid Ivanov is keeping her imprisoned in his home.
Gianna assured me that Tamara was safe, that she wasn’t in any danger, and had willingly chosen to stay, but it was obvious that she wasn’t giving me the full story. Before I left the refuge, she asked me not to look for Tamara and promised to tell her that she’d spoken to me.
So that’s it.
The Pakhan is keeping her locked away, no doubt because he can’t risk her taking down some more traffickers without his permission, and Tamara has her own reasons for following orders.
He rescued her and Ivana from a horrific fate when they were children, and their loyalty is unquestionable.
I’d be a selfish fuck to even want to interfere when she is only alive now thanks to Leonid Ivanov.
So instead, I sit back on my couch with a bottle of whiskey and my feet up on the coffee table and listen to my favorite Hothouse Flowers album on the sound system.
He can’t keep her locked up forever. He’ll execute whatever plan he has for the human-trafficking Petrov family, and then he’ll have no reason to keep her shut away.
Will she come to me then? I don’t even know the answer to that one.
It isn’t a case of choosing her Pakhan over me; it’s about risking the only life she knows for a man she likes to fuck occasionally.
And who can blame her for choosing life?
“I fucking don’t.” I down the whiskey in the bottom of my glass and pour myself a refill. “An emotional time,” I sing along, trying and failing to emulate the power and emotion in Liam ó Maonlaí’s voice. “Songs from the rain. Falling on our faces and healing the pain…”
I’m jolted out of my wallowing by a tapping sound. In an instant, my feet are off the coffee table, I’ve turned the volume down on the sound system, and the whiskey glass has been replaced by my gun.
I strain my ears over the sound of my blood gushing through my veins.
Tap, tap, tap. There it is again. It’s coming from the front door of my apartment.
I get up and cross the room, standing behind the door with my gun aimed at chest height, waiting for the sound to be repeated.
Tap, tap, tap.
Call it sixth sense, or maybe I smell her perfume through the solid door, but I know it’s Tamara before I pocket my gun, yank it open, and fold her into my arms right there in the doorway.
“You came.”
I don’t even check the landing before tugging her over the threshold and closing the door behind her.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
I’ll take being a last resort every time if it means that I get to hold her.
I pull away and study her at arm’s length to check that she isn’t hurt. “I’m glad you came here. My singing was getting out of control.”
“Your singing?” She peers at me, brows furrowed as if she underestimated exactly how crazy I am and is considering turning around and retracing her steps.
“I sing when I’m alone. Badly. The neighbors have never complained, but they probably turn the volume up on their TVs to drown it out.”
I’m babbling like a lovesick teenager, because I’ve drunk too much whisky, and I didn’t expect to see her, and it’s like every childhood Christmas I never got to experience after my ma died happening all at once.
“Perhaps you should take singing lessons.”
My smile is so wide my cheeks ache. “Perhaps I should shut up and kiss you.”
She nods, lips parted in anticipation. “Or that.”
I cup her face in both hands and kiss her tenderly. “Does Leonid know where you are?” I murmur against her lips.
“No.” She snakes her arms around my neck and winds my hair around her fingers.
When I feel her tongue dancing around mine, I understand.
She doesn’t want to talk about it.
I grip her ass, and she wraps her legs around my waist, kissing me harder.
“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”
The tiny sounds she makes when I tug her jacket over her shoulders and toss it aside hit straight to my core.
Her hard nipples press against my chest through her T-shirt.
I find the hem and she raises her arms for me to take it off, exposing her naked breasts and sending heat straight down to my pants.
I dip my head and suck her nipples, crushing her breasts with my hands, and she groans with pleasure.
I drop to my knees right there in front of the door, unzip my pants, her legs still straddling my lap, and position my cock at her entrance.
“Is this what you want?” My voice is thick with desire.
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. I feel her pussy sliding down onto me and I fist her hair, kissing her slow and deep, my tongue filling her mouth.
Tamara plants her feet on either side of my legs and bounces on my cock, her breasts rubbing my chest, her juices trickling down my length and coating my balls.
“So fucking beautiful,” I murmur against her lips. “Now, it’s my turn.”
I lift her off me, my cock arcing towards her pussy as I stand her upright.
I drag her skirt and panties down, part her thighs roughly with my hands, and lick her clit.
It spasms beneath my tongue, and I insert two fingers inside her, curling them around the spot while I pull her ass closer and suck her clit between my front teeth.
“Finn…” She gasps.
I peer up at her from between her legs. Her face is flushed, her nipples pink and swollen, and I don’t want to leave any part of her untouched. Reaching up with my free hand, I pinch her nipple and fuck her pussy with my fingers while I suck her clit until her orgasm explodes and her body shudders.
I don’t give her time to recover. I’m on my feet, knees bent, and fucking her against the wall, driving my cock deep inside her, fueled harder by her pussy clenching around me and her tongue exploring my mouth.
Her fingers are in my hair. My balls are slapping her thighs.
And I don’t want to come yet, but I know I can’t stop it.
“Where do you want me to come?”
Her eyes fly open. “Why are you asking?”
“Because my balls are full, and I intend to fuck you all night.”
She gives me a small smile and sucks my bottom lip.
“Fill me up then, Finn.”
I don’t need to be told twice.