THE FIXER

32



Especially after my conversation with my mother.

Maxim touches my nose seeming to read my mind with that uncanny ability of his. “Or maybe it’s all his sick sense of humor. He’s cackling from the grave right now at both of us.”

I put my hands on my hips. “I fail to see how this situation is so awful for you.”

The shoes drop to the sand, and he loops an arm around my waist and yanks me up to him.

“No, you’re right,” he murmurs, bringing his lips right above mine. “At the moment, it doesn’t seem so bad for me.” He brushes his lips over mine. My breasts press against his ribs, and I stroke a hand under his shirt to feel those rock hard abs I saw earlier. “I have a hot, rich wife.” He squeezes my ass, pulling my hips up against him. “And she may be a handful, but punishing her is quite possibly the highlight of my life.”

The highlight of his life.

He can’t mean that.

I mean… of course, he doesn’t. That’s ridiculous.

“The highlight of your sex life?”

Maxim smirks. “Definitely.” He nips my lower lip.

I kiss him, my hand stroking under his shirt to his back. When I find the gun there, I flinch and retract my hand.

Maxim cradles the back of my head and angles my face up for a real kiss. His tongue sweeps between my lips, and he pulls on them, repositions, kisses me again. My nipples get hard beneath my bra, and I lose my breath.

Despite how sore I am down there, I find myself craving more sex. I want to feel everything. All the positions, all the orgasms. The threats Maxim made about implements and bondage.

“Too bad we checked out already,” I breathe when he breaks the kiss.

His eyes are dark. “Da. But I already wore you out, no?” His smile is wicked. He stoops to pick up our shoes. “I’ll have to take you home for our next round.” He winks. “You have the whole plane ride to recover.”

I gently push him away. “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

He takes my hand and changes direction, walking back down the beach the way we came. “Oh, I have no doubt you’ll keep me working, caxapok. Docile isn’t in your nature, is it?”

I smile, irrationally happy that he seems to be celebrating the very thing my father couldn’t stand about me. “Nope,” I confirm.

“It’s all right. I can handle you.” The words are slightly offensive, but the warmth behind them keeps me floating.

The real question is-can I handle him?

And my most gnawing fear is that I can’t.

That I’m in way, way over my head with this man.

With my husband.

Maxim

I GET us on an afternoon flight to Chicago, and it’s evening by the time we get out of the cab back to the Kremlin. I’m downright chipper-so far from the mood I was in when I got on the plane yesterday to chase down my runaway bride.

I’m not foolish enough to believe her conquered, but she’s certainly getting tamer. Or maybe I’m fool enough to believe that just because I finally got my dick wet. I do know sex can turn men into idiots-Ravil is the prime example of that when he kidnapped his pregnant one night stand.

We take the elevator to the penthouse where we find Oleg walking out the door, smelling of Nikolai’s cologne.

“What’s this?” I ask. “Going to hear your girl play?”

Oleg gives a barely perceptible nod. Communicating with him is more a game of mind-reading than anything else.

“What girl? Play where?” Sasha touches Oleg’s meaty arm. “Oleg, you have a girlfriend?”

It’s an innocent touch, but some primitive part of me bristles at seeing her fingers on another man’s skin.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

I catch her wrist to pull it away from Oleg and twist her arm behind her back. “What did I tell you?” I murmur in her ear. “No touching other men, caxapok. You wouldn’t want me to throat-punch Oleg-I think we all know I’m the guy who’d lose that fight.”

Sasha’s laugh is throaty. She squirms against my hold, but it’s only for show. She likes to be restrained, I can tell.

My dick gets chubby thinking of all the dirty things I want to do to her.

Oleg eyes us both doubtfully. Wariness is his usual state of being, even with us, his suitemates and bratva brothers.

I fill Sasha in. “Oleg goes to hear a local band every week. He’s sweet on the singer.”

My party girl lights up, turning those shining blue eyes on me. “Can we go?” She shifts her questioning gaze to Oleg then back at me.

My plans were definitely more like locking her in my bedroom again and never letting her out, but it’s impossible to refuse her after she showed me her sweet side. Ravishing my new bride again will have to wait.

I look at Oleg. “Is that all right with you?” Oleg ranks below me, but he’s our enforcer and can literally crush a man with his bare hands. I’m not about to fuck with him when a woman’s involved.

He stares at us for a moment then shrugs his muscled shoulders.

“Okay. We’ll meet you there. Rue’s Lounge?”

Oleg nods.

“Is it okay if we bring the whole gang?”

Oleg walks away.

Well, it wasn’t a no.

I wink at Sasha and flash my key card at our penthouse door.

“Our princess has been found!” Dima exclaims from his computer station in the living room. His twin sits on the couch with Pavel watching The Boys.

“Yes. Did you locate that shock collar to keep her from straying again?” I tease.

Sasha whirls on me to make sure I’m kidding, and I grin.

“Mudak.” She smacks me with the back of her hand. “You guys want to go see Oleg’s girlfriend play?”

I like that Sasha’s already playing social coordinator with my brothers. She’s not the shy violet waiting for me to take the lead. When she’s in a room, she owns it. I love it about her, but I have a feeling it will also cost me dearly at times.


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