22. Nikolai
Nikolai
I walk through the front entrance of the casino, my mind still on the Henderson property. We just toured the location, and it is perfect. The demographics are exactly what we need. Pasha’s running the numbers, but I know they’ll work. They always do.
I head toward the security office out of habit. Make sure nothing’s gone sideways while I was gone.
Connor is at the desk when I walk in. He looks up from his monitors.
“Anything I need to know about?” I ask.
“Quiet day, mostly. Had an incident in the parking garage about an hour ago.”
“What kind of incident?”
“Mugging. One of the dealers got her purse snatched. Security responded, but the guy was gone before they could grab him.”
“Is it handled?”
“Yeah. Police came. Took a report. The dealer didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
I’m moving toward the door when I get a niggling feeling at the back of my neck. “Which dealer?
“Uh…” He glances at his notes. “Blonde. Blackjack. Works the main floor.”
Every muscle in my body locks.
“Gabby Collins?”
He looks surprised that I know the name. “Yeah. That’s her.”
I’m out the door before he finishes the sentence. I scan the floor. She’s not at any of the blackjack tables. I check my watch. She would have been off shift by now.
I pull out my phone and call her. It rings. And rings. Goes to voicemail.
I move toward the employee break room. She’s not there, either. I head back to security.
“Where is she now?” I ask Connor.
“She left. Said she was fine. Didn’t want medical attention.”
“When?”
“Maybe forty-five minutes ago.”
Fine. She said she was fine.
I text my driver. Dammit. I should have driven myself today.
The traffic is always shit on the Strip, but right now, it feels deliberately orchestrated to keep me from getting home. I try calling Gabby again.
Voicemail.
I try the house line. Galina answers.
“Is Gabby there?”
“Yes.”
“Is she okay?”
There’s a pause. “Seemed fine.”
“I’ll be home soon.”
I end the call and stare out the window. She’s safe. In my home.
The Italians have been escalating. The delays at Tatiana. The inspection issues. The fire. All of it designed to cost me money and time. But they’ve never gone after my people. That’s a line they’ve been careful not to cross.
The SUV pulls through the gates and stops in front of the doors.
I find her in the living room, sitting in the dark. Not crying. Just sitting there with a drink in her hand, staring at nothing.
“Gabby.”
She looks up. Her eyes are wide, startled, like she didn’t hear me come in.
“I heard what happened,” I say.
She nods.
I move closer, squatting in front of her so we’re eye level. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she whispers. “I’m fine.”
She’s not fine. My hand reaches out, cupping her cheek. I realize I need to touch her.
I don’t know if I’m reassuring her or me. Her head tilts, allowing me to cradle her for just a few seconds before she sits up straight.
I stand, giving her some space. “Tell me what happened.”
She takes a breath. “Someone grabbed me in the parking garage. Tried to take my purse. I fought back. Security came. He ran.”
The words are clipped.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. I’m okay. Really. He got my purse. I don’t have an ID.”
I understand why the ID is what’s bothering her.
“We’ll get you another one,” I tell her.
She looks into my eyes. I see it. Right there. She wants to tell me. I wait.
And then it’s gone. “Of course. Such a pain in the ass. They can take the money, but why do they have to take the driver’s license? Clearly, these fuckers have never had to sit at the DMV.”
“What else?” I ask.
“What?”
“What else was in the purse?”
She shrugs. “Basic stuff. Tips. Luke’s doctor information. It’s fine.”
“Credit cards?”
“No credit cards. I already canceled my debit card. I guess I should feel lucky it hasn’t happened sooner.”
She takes a deep breath. “Can I pour you a drink?”
“I can do it.”
She gets up. I feel her nervous energy. She walks to the cart and pours me a glass of the scotch I usually have after work.
She hands it to me and sits back down. I sit in the chair across from her.
“I wanted to talk to you about the room situation,” she says.
“Luke needs his own room.”
She sighs, her resignation apparent. “I know.”
“He’s safe here. In this house. He doesn’t need you sleeping in the same room with him anymore.”
“I know,” she says again. “It’s just... hard.”
“We’ll give him the room next to yours. I’ll put cameras in.”
She smiles. “I don’t need cameras. I’ll get a baby monitor, though. Just in case.”
She sips her drink.
“I saw all the dinosaurs,” she says with a smile. “That was very kind. Although, you’ve crowded me out of bed. He’s got six in bed with him right now. A little dinosaur cocoon.”
“Another reason he’ll need his own bed.”
A faint smile ghosts her lips. “Was that your intention?”
“No, but if it makes him feel safe, I’ll order more.”
“He’s got enough. Leave something for his birthday and Christmas.”
Christmas. Fuck. Will they still be with me?
A kid at Christmas. Lights. A tree. Presents.
A memory flashes through my mind of a Christmas morning, when my brothers and I raced downstairs.
Mom had been sitting in the dark. The tree lit up.
I’d been so curious to know what would be in all the packages.
And then the lights came on, and we understood why she’d been sitting in the dark.
It had been a bad night for her. But she smiled and pretended everything was perfect. She made us hot cocoa, and we got cookies for breakfast. Dad wasn’t there. Mom told us he had work. That was the best Christmas of my life.
“Okay.” I push away the memory. “No more dinosaurs.”
“Thank you,” she says. “Seriously, he loves them. I appreciate them, and so does he.”
“Good.”
“I should go to bed.” She gets to her feet.
I down the rest of my drink, leaving the glass on the table. “I’ll walk you.”
I expect her to tell me she doesn’t need me to do that.
She doesn’t.
I walk with her down the hallway toward her room. “Goodnight,” I say.
“Thank you for everything you’re doing for us,” she whispers.
I lean down and kiss her, just my lips against hers. “You’re welcome. Please, stop thanking me.”
“You don’t like when your kindness is recognized,” she says.
I shrug.
She smiles. “I understand. I won’t make you uncomfortable by bringing it up.”
I feel like I should be the one thanking her now. “Okay.”
She grabs my hand when I start to walk away. I turn back to her.
I look into her eyes. I don’t see fear, but there’s the leftover adrenaline that lingers after something like she went through.
She doesn’t want to be alone tonight.
I don’t say anything. I just squeeze her hand and lead her to my bedroom.
I open the door and guide her inside. She comes willingly. I close the door behind us and turn to face her.
The security lights cast enough light for me to see her.
“Come here,” I say quietly.
She steps toward me. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. Soft. Gentle. Nothing like last night. This isn’t about desire. This is about reassurance.
She makes a small sound against my mouth. Her hands come up to grip my shirt.
I pull back just enough to look at her. “You’re safe here.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She nods. But I see the doubt in her eyes.
“Gabby, no one gets to touch you again.”
I kiss her again. Deeper this time. Her mouth opens under mine. It’s one emotion I truly do understand. The adrenaline makes you want to feel alive.
My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer. She presses against me, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I walk her backward toward the bed.
I look down at her. “Tell me what you need.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice breaks on the last word.
I do.
I lay her back on the bed and stand over her, taking my time. She watches me with wide eyes, chest already rising and falling faster.
“Take it off,” I say. “Slowly.”
Her fingers tremble at the hem of her shirt. I watch her pull it over her head and drop it to the side. She reaches back for her bra clasp.
“I said slowly.”
Her hands still. She looks up at me.
“Every time you rush, I stop.” I bend down, putting my face level with hers. “Understood?”
She nods.
“Say it.”
“Understood.”
I straighten up. “That’s my good girl. Now finish.”
She unclasps it and lets it fall forward off her shoulders. I don’t touch her. I just look. She fights the urge to cover herself. I can see it in the way her arms twitch slightly inward before she forces them still.
“You’re learning,” I say quietly.
I reach down and pull her toward the edge of the bed by her ankle, unhurried, and drag her pants down her legs. She’s left in nothing but thin cotton underwear. I’m buying her lingerie. I file it away for later.
I run one finger from her knee up the inside of her thigh and stop just short of where she wants it.
She exhales sharply.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she breathes.
“More specific.” I trace the same line again. Slower. “Use your words.”
“Nikolai—”
“That’s not what I asked.” I press my palm against her inner thigh, holding her open. “Try again.”
Her cheeks flush. “I want you to touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“More.”
I hook my finger under the fabric and pull it aside. She gasps before I’ve even done anything. I watch her face when I finally touch her. Her eyes squeeze shut.
“You’re already this wet?” I lean down and whisper against her ear. “From that?”
She turns her face away.
I catch her jaw and turn it back. “No. Look at me.” I increase the pressure and her breath stutters. “I want to see your face.”
Her eyes meet mine and stay there.
“There you are,” I say.
I slide two fingers inside her without warning, curling them just right. She cries out, hips jerking off the bed. “So fucking wet for me already.”
She whimpers my name. I reward her by pressing my thumb to her clit, circling hard. “That’s it. Ride my fingers. Show me how bad you need it after that bastard grabbed you. I’m going to make sure you feel it in your pussy every time you move tomorrow.”
Her walls clench around me. I add a third finger, stretching her wide. “Look at you taking three like a good girl. Come on them. Soak my hand. I want to feel you gush.”
She shatters with a broken moan, her thighs shaking as she drenches my fingers. I keep working her through it. “Good girl. You came on my fingers like you were starving for it.”
I pull out, bring my fingers to her mouth, and smear her wetness across her lips.
“Open. Taste yourself.” She obeys, tongue licking clean, and the sight makes my cock throb against my zipper.
I stand, strip fast, and climb over her, fisting my length.
“Spread those legs wider. I’m going to fuck you now. Hard. Deep. Until you scream.”
She does. I drive into her to the hilt in one thrust, groaning at the tight, wet heat gripping me.
“Fuck, Gabby. Your pussy is so perfect. Gripping me so hard.” I set a brutal rhythm, one hand pinning her wrists above her head, the other squeezing her hip to keep her in place.
“Take it. Every inch. You’re mine to protect, Gabby.
Mine to give you all the orgasms you’ve missed out on. ”
She arches beneath me, a desperate sound catching in her throat with every thrust. “Nikolai, please.”
“Please what? Use your words, baby. Tell me you want me.” I snap my hips harder, hitting that spot that makes her eyes roll back. “Say it.”
“Fuck me,” she gasps. “Make me come again.”
I growl my approval and drive into her, sweat slicking our skin.
“That’s it. Only for me. No one else touches you.
No one else makes you scream like this.” My thumb finds her clit again, rubbing fast. She convulses around me, a sob tearing from her throat as I lose the last of my control.
Her body clamps around me. I bury myself deep, spilling inside her in hot pulses. “Fuck, Gabby.”
I collapse over her, still buried inside her, and kiss her neck softly. My cock twitches as my breathing slows.
I don’t know what she’s done to me. I only know I’m not finished with her. The idea of her ever leaving makes something in me turn violent.
And who the fuck is Luke’s father? How did he get her pregnant but never give her an orgasm?
I know how.
And it pisses me off.
I shift, pushing my weight off her. I look down at her face. Her eyes are closed. Her chest is still rising and falling hard.
I brush the hair back from her face.
She opens her eyes and looks up at me. For once, there’s nothing guarded in them.
For a long moment, we lie there, breathing hard, and tangled together.
Finally, I roll off her and pull her against my side. She curls into me, her head on my chest.
“Luke will wonder where I am.”
“And this is why he needs his own fucking room.”
She laughs. “I know, I know.”
She pulls away, kisses me, and then slides out of bed. “Goodnight, Nik.”
I watch her leave.
Letting her walk away is becoming a problem.