25. Kane
KANE
I wake up with Delilah in my arms and spend the next hour convincing myself not to sabotage the Poconos trip.
It would be easy. A single phone call to Niko about a fictional threat. A lie about Vetrov's men circling the waterfront. Something plausible enough that Delilah would believe me if I delivered it with the right amount of concern.
I could keep her here. Safe. Where I can see her at all times.
The thought sits heavy in my chest. Tempting and toxic.
I don't do it.
Instead I slink out of bed without waking her, get dressed, and go downstairs to check in with Yuri about the security detail I'm sending ahead to sweep the property before we arrive.
By the time I come back up, Delilah's awake and looking at me like she can read my mind.
"Having second thoughts?" she asks.
"No."
"Liar."
I cross to the bed and kiss her. "I'm going. I promised."
"But you're still thinking about canceling."
"I'm thinking about a lot of things. That doesn't mean I'm going to act on them."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, I believe you." She gets out of bed. "But if you change your mind between now and ten o'clock, I'm still leaving. With or without you."
"I know."
"Good." She heads toward the bathroom. "Now get out. I need to shower."
At nine-thirty, I'm standing in the driveway staring at what looks like enough luggage to supply a small army through winter.
Delilah comes out carrying another duffel bag.
"Are we hunkering down for the apocalypse?" I ask.
"I packed options." She sets the bag down by the others. "Plus I wasn't sure what the kitchen situation would be, so I brought some basics."
"Basics."
"Flour. Sugar. Butter. Eggs. Yeast. Salt. Vanilla. Chocolate. Coffee." She ticks them off on her fingers. "Also wine. And cheese. And bread. And that sourdough starter Priya's been nursing for three years that I promised I'd keep alive."
"You brought a sourdough starter on vacation."
"Of course I brought the starter. Priya will kill me if I let it die."
"How much does this all weigh?"
"I don't know. A lot?" She crosses her arms. "Are you complaining about lifting things now?"
"No. I'm just trying to figure out if we're feeding six people or forty."
I start loading the bags into the car. I've fallen silent again, thinking through every possible scenario in case shit goes down at the lake house this weekend.
Lilah notices.
"Kane." She touches my arm. "If you really don't want to go—"
"I want to go."
"You don't look like you want to go."
"I want to be where you are."
She studies me for another moment. Then she says, "You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think you're scared of spending a whole weekend without employees to intimidate."
I almost smile.
I look at her standing there in jeans and one of my old shirts, her hair pulled back, her face free of makeup. Beautiful and stubborn and completely unaware of how much I want to lock her in my house and never let her out again.
I reach for her face. "This trip better be worth it."
"It will be."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm going to make sure you have a good time." She leans into my palm. "Even if it kills me."
"That's the opposite of what I'm trying to achieve, Lilah."
She grins, and I kiss her. Hard enough that she makes a soft sound against my mouth.
When I pull back, she's looking at me with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.
"Get in the car," I say. "Or I'm carrying you back to bed."
Her cheeks flush. But she obeys, settling primly in the passenger seat, all faux innocence and badly-disguised desire.
If she thinks the presence of guests will keep me from touching her every second of this trip, she's dead wrong.
Ten minutes into the drive, I put my hand onto her thigh.
She looks over at me. "What are you doing?"
"Touching you."
"I can see that."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because we're in a moving vehicle."
"So?"
"So I'm trying to figure out if this is going somewhere or if you're just being distracting."
I move my hand higher. "Does it matter?"
Her breath hitches. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because if you're starting something, I'd like to know so I can prepare myself."
"Prepare yourself for what?"
"For whatever you're planning."
I slip my hand under the hem of her dress and trace the edge of her underwear. "I'm not planning anything."
"Liar."
"I'm just enjoying the drive."
"Kane—"
"Relax, sladkaya." I press my thumb against the damp fabric between her legs. "I'm not going to make you come in the car."
"You're not?"
"No. That would be reckless."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Making sure you remember what you're coming back to tonight."
Her thighs fall open. "I already remember."
"Good." I press harder, watching her face. "Then this is just a reminder."
She gasps, already wet.
I keep teasing her. Soft, circling touches that don't give her what she needs.
"I always imagined doing this alone," she breathes after a while.
"Getting off?"
"No." She shoves my arm playfully. "The trip. After we broke up back in March, I told myself I'd come to Poconos anyway, but on my own."
Cold settles in my chest. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to know what it cost me. Letting you back into the plan."
"You didn't have to."
"I know. But I wanted to."
"Why?"
"Because I missed you. And because I didn't want to spend the weekend imagining what it would be like if you were here."
I pull my hand back and grip the steering wheel. "Would you have preferred coming alone?"
"No." She takes a deep breath. "I promised myself I'd book this trip no matter what because I needed something to look forward to. Something that I couldn't lose when I lost you."
The words hit harder than I expect. I don't know what to say to that.
She was already planning to move on. Already imagining a future without me. And I was still burning maps and pulling lots from assemblages, hoping she'd eventually forgive me enough to let me back in.
"Did it work?" I ask.
"What?"
"Did the idea of the trip make you feel better?"
"For about five minutes. Then I just felt sad."
"Because you wanted me here?"
"Because I wanted the version of us that didn't exist yet. The one where we were honest with each other from the beginning."
I reach for her hand. She lets me take it.
"Do you think we can do that?" she asks. "Be together without a crisis forcing us to figure it out?"
"I don't know."
"That's not very reassuring."
"I'm trying to be honest."
"I know." She squeezes my hand. "That's why I'm still here."
"You're here because I promised not to lock you up."
"I'm here because you're trying. And because I want to find out if we're good at being together when we're not busy fighting Vetrov or each other."
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. "I want that too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I set our joined hands on the console between us. "Even if it scares the shit out of me."
She laughs. Soft and surprised. "Why does it scare you?"
"Because what if we're only good at the hard parts?"
"Then we'll figure out the easy parts."
"You make it sound simple."
"It is simple. We just have to show up and try."
I want to believe her. I want to believe that a weekend in the Poconos without Vetrov or kidnappings or forged deeds hanging over us will prove we're more than just two people who got tangled up in each other's worst moments.
But I'm not sure I know how to be with her when there's nothing to fight.
"What are you thinking?" she asks.
"That I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Be someone's boyfriend on vacation."
"You don't have to be anyone's boyfriend. Just be you."
"What if that's not enough?"
"It will be."
"How do you know?"
She looks over at me. "Because I already chose you, Kane. I'm not going to change my mind just because you don't know how to relax."
She shoves me again, playful and sweet at the same time.
The knot in my chest begins to loosen.
We reach the lake house at two in the afternoon.
It's what she promised—small, private, tucked into the trees with a long dock stretching out over the water.
Stepan's already swept the property with the rest of the perimeter team. He nods at me from the porch, then gets into the second car and drives off without a word.
Delilah gets out and stretches, looking around with obvious satisfaction. "This is perfect."
"It's isolated."
"That's the point."
"The nearest hospital is forty minutes away."
"Kane."
"I'm just saying."
"You promised not to do this."
"I'm not doing anything. I'm stating facts."
She crosses to me and takes my hand. "Come on. Let's go inside before you invent another reason we should turn around."
I let her pull me toward the house.
Inside, it's clean and bright, with wide windows overlooking the lake and a kitchen that takes up half the first floor.
Delilah immediately starts unpacking her bags of food.
"You're really going to cook on vacation," I say.
"It's not vacation. It's a trip."
"What's the difference?"
"Vacation implies lying around doing nothing. This is a weekend where I get to bake whatever I want without worrying about orders or inventory or health inspectors."
"So you're working."
"I'm relaxing. In my own way."
I watch her line up flour and sugar and vanilla on the counter like she's setting up a new kitchen. "You're out of your mind."
"I'm efficient." She looks over at me. "Are you going to help or just stand there judging my life choices?"
"I'm going to stand here."
"Of course you are."
She moves around the kitchen with the same focused energy she brings to everything else, organizing ingredients and checking cabinet space. I lean against the doorframe and watch her work, and for the first time since we left the city, I feel the knot in my chest loosen a fraction more.
Maybe this will be okay. Maybe I can spend a weekend here without losing my mind worrying about her.
Maybe.
When she finishes unpacking, she turns to me. "What now?"
"Now I take you upstairs."
Her eyebrows lift. "Presumptuous."
"You invited me here."
"I invited you to spend the weekend with me. That doesn't automatically mean sex."
"You're right. My apologies." I cross to her slowly. "Would you like to go upstairs with me so I can make you come until you forget how to say my name?"
Her breath catches. "That's better."
I take her hand and pull her toward the stairs.
The bedroom overlooks the lake, with afternoon light streaming through the windows and a bed big enough for six people.
I back her toward it slowly, watching her face.
"What are you thinking?" she asks.
"That I'm going to make you glad you invited me."
She laughs. Soft and warm. "I'm already glad."
"Then I'm going to make you gladder."
"That's not a word."
"It is now."
I kiss her before she can argue.
She opens for me immediately, her hands going to my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. I do the same with hers, then her bra, then her jeans, until she's standing in front of me in just her underwear.
"Blyat'," I mutter.
"What?"
"You're so fucking beautiful."
She flushes. "You don't have to say that."
"I'm saying it because it's true."
I walk her backward until her knees hit the bed, then lay her down and follow her onto the mattress.
She reaches for my jeans. I catch her wrists.
"Not yet," I say.
"Why not?"
"Because I want to taste you first."
I move down her body, pressing kisses to her stomach, her hip, the inside of her thigh. She's already breathing hard by the time I hook my fingers in the waistband of her underwear and pull it off.
"Kane—"
"Relax, sladkaya."
I spread her thighs and settle between them, and the first taste of her makes me groan.
She's wet and warm and perfect, and I work her slowly, tracing circles with my tongue, sucking gently on her clit, sliding two fingers inside her and curling them just right.
"Oh god," she gasps.
I hum against her, and her hips jerk.
I hold her down with one hand on her stomach and keep going, building her up slowly, dragging it out until she's shaking and pulling at my hair.
"Kane—please—"
I pull back. "Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I want you desperate."
"I'm already desperate."
"Not desperate enough."
I go back down, working her with my mouth and fingers until she's gasping my name and begging me to let her come.
"Please—Kane—I can't—"
I move up her body and kiss her hard, letting her taste herself on my mouth.
"Turn around," I say.
"What?"
"Turn around and get on top of me."
She blinks. "You want me to—"
"Yes. Now."
She shifts, moving carefully until she's straddling my chest, facing my feet.
"Come here," I say, pulling her hips back toward my face.
She hesitates. "Kane—"
"Sit on my face, sladkaya."
"I'll suffocate you."
"That's a good way to go."
"Oh my god. You have such a dirty mind."
"Yes." I huff that word between her quivering thighs. "Now let me have my dessert."
She lowers herself slowly, and when her thighs bracket my head and her pussy is right there in front of me, I groan and pull her down the rest of the way.
"Fuck," I mutter against her.
She makes a choked sound above me.
I lick into her, slow and deep, and her thighs start shaking.
"Kane—"
I reach down and unbutton my jeans, shoving them down just enough to free my cock.
"Take me out," I say against her.
She hesitates, then leans forward, her hands shaking as she pulls my cock free.
"Now suck," I tell her.
She takes me into her mouth, and I groan, the vibration making her jerk above me.
I set the pace. Slow and unhurried, licking her in long strokes while she works me with her mouth. When I speed up, she does too, chasing the rhythm I'm setting. When I slow down, she slows with me, dragging it out until we're both shaking.
"Fuck," I mutter. "You're so fucking good at this."
She moans around my cock, and I have to grip her hips to keep from coming right then.
I focus on her instead, working her with my tongue until she's trembling and gasping and barely able to keep her mouth on me.
"That's it," I say. "Let go, sladkaya."
She comes hard, her thighs clenching around my head, and I hold her through it, licking her gently until she's shaking and trying to pull away.
I'm so close I can barely breathe.
"Like that," I tell her. "Keep going. Good girl."
She takes me deeper, sucking hard, and I lose it, coming in her mouth with a rough groan that sounds like her name.
She swallows every drop.
After that, she pulls off slowly and collapses beside me on the bed.
We lie there for a while, breathing hard, tangled together.
Finally she says, "That was—"
"Yeah."
"I think I like your dirty mind."
"I like yours too."
She laughs. Soft and breathless. "I'm glad I invited you."
I pull her closer. "So am I."
She presses her face into my shoulder. "Do you think we can do this?"
"Do what?"
"Spend a weekend together without fighting or running or making each other crazy."
"I don't know. But I want to find out."
She looks up at me, her eyes warm. "Me too."
I kiss her forehead. "Then let's find out."