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Chapter 9

HOLLAND

I blink at the text message exchanges between me and

Danill. God, he’s hot. Seriously, beyond hot. I close my eyes for a brief moment and imagine his naked body. All those tattoos, all those muscles. My entire body breaks out in a shiver and Nate asks me if I’m okay.

“I am,” I lie. I am absolutely not okay. I need this man, I need Danill right now. Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “I’m okay, I think I just need to go home.”

“Oh girl, what is happening? What came in on that phone.”

Before I can grab it, Nate’s hand snakes out and he snatches my phone. I curse myself for not having some kind of passcode or lock on my device. His eyes widen and then he lets out a laugh and a cry.

“Okay, let’s get you home before your vagina melts.” “Nate,” I hiss.

He leans forward. “You like him. You want him. He wants you too, you might as well go and take what you want while you can.”

“And then what?” I ask. I don’t ask him about the while you can part, though it does stand out as odd to me.

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling, then leans back in his seat and shakes his head a couple of times. “What does it matter. Use all his two thousand body parts for your personal entertainment. Who cares what happens when you’re done?”

“I don’t work like that.”

Nate holds up his hand, palm facing me. “Everyone can work like that, Holl. You choose not to and that’s okay, but I think you’re allowed to have a little fun. And if that fun comes in that hot-ass package, then why not? Take your fun while you can.”

Again with the while I can talk. I don’t understand it. Is something going to happen to me that will take my opportunity to live and have fun away? I really don’t get it. “He’s foreign, I can’t tell what he is though,” I whisper.

It feels like I’m admitting some kind of secret, like it’s taboo or something to be with someone who isn’t necessarily from here. It’s not at all, and this is LA. Hardly anyone is even from here anyway, so it shouldn’t mean a damn thing.

But somehow it does.

“Go to him. Find out what kind of foreign he is and let him lick your box,” Nate says.

His voice is too loud and I can feel my cheeks heating at his words. I know that they’re probably bright red too. I lick my lips, shaking my head from side to side, and lean forward, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I like him,” I breathe. “Too much, and we did something really bad.”

“Did you let him put it in your ass? Is your ass no longer virgin?” he asks, thankfully keeping his voice fairly low. I think maybe just the table next to us heard the conversation and not the entire café. So at least there’s that, if that means anything at all.

He’s being funny and loud, but I can’t mistake the bite in his tone. There is something more there that he’s not telling me. I don’t want to ask him about it though. I don’t think that I even want to know. I think that I’m good staying in the dark on this one.

“No, I didn’t,” I hiss. “But I really like him.” “Then go to him,” Nate urges.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head a couple of times. “What if he’s just using me?” I ask.

“So what?” Nate asks. “Use his ass back. Get some delicious orgasms. Maybe some cuddles, then just move along when you’re done.”

“Can I just move along?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know, babe, that’s completely up to you.”

Thinking about his words, I wonder if I can just move on. Can I do that? Can I just take my orgasms and essentially go? I mean, essentially that’s what happened when he fucked me and left me last week, but that was him taking his orgasms and going, not so much me. Personally, I would have liked to wake up in his arms, maybe do it again, maybe get some breakfast.

DANILL

CLIMBING OUT OF MY CAR, I lean my hip against the side of my hood as I wait for her and her companion to make their way out of the café and toward me. I use the few extra minutes to return some text messages and emails.

Kazimir has contacted me and I respond as I wait to see what he has to say. He asks me if I’m working on the job for Davydov and I confirm that I am. Then he doesn’t say anything for a while. I watch my phone, knowing that there’s a reason he contacted me. He’s not one to just ask me a question and let it go.

KAZIMIR: ARE YOU KEEPING THE GIRL?

WORD TRAVELS FAST.

KAZIMIR: INTERESTING WORD DOES, YES.

I AM KEEPING HER. I LIKE WHAT SHE OFFERS.

KAZIMIR: YOU COULD HAVE CONTRACTED A WIFE.

I COULD HAVE. I’D RATHER TAKE HER AS MINE.

KAZIMIR: AS A FRIEND AND YOUR PAKHAN. BE CAREFUL.

I GOT THIS.

KAZIMIR: I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT YOU THINK YOU DO.

I don’t respond to his words, instead, I look up and I see them walking down the street toward me. Pushing off of the car as they approach, I meet her halfway. She stops in her tracks and looks up at me, her eyes wide.

“Danill,” she breathes.

Without a word, I lift my hand and cup her cheek. Sliding my thumb across her bottom lip, I look into her eyes, then shift my gaze down to her mouth. Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers, wanting—no, needing—a taste of her.

“Shoo, okay, now I need to go home and spend a little time alone,” the man announces.

Lifting my head, I give him a grin. “Danill Belsky,” I say, holding out my hand to introduce myself.

I’m still not convinced that he doesn’t have different intentions with her, other than just friendly ones. But I’m not going to worry about that, soon enough she will belong to me. All of her.

He tells me that his name is Nate Gorski and my ears perk up at the last name. He’s not Russian, likely Polish, but it’s interesting nonetheless. I’ve done my research on him, I already know his entire background, that his family is in New York, they’re rich, but he doesn’t have a relationship with them. He lives off of his grandfather’s trust fund and he’s bisexual. But it is still odd to hear a name that isn’t either very American or very Russian in my circle.

“We’ll meet again, I have no doubt,” I say.

He grins, then turns to Holland and gives her a thumbsup before he makes his way toward his Mercedes SUV vehicle. I watch as he opens the door, then sinks inside. I clear my throat and shift my gaze back to her once Nate is gone.

“Would you like to come upstairs, maybe talk?” Holland asks.

Nyet, I do not want to talk. I want to fuck. I don’t say that to her though, instead, I jerk my chin in a nod and follow behind her. We make our way toward the elevator, the ride in silence. A few people climb on, then off as the elevator rises.

Once we’re on her floor, I continue to follow her, as if I don’t own her apartment. Once she lets me inside, I close the door behind us, then lock it. She doesn’t even stop in the living area this time, instead, she makes her way directly toward her bedroom and I follow behind.

Holland doesn’t realize it yet, but this will be the last time that I follow her anywhere. Soon she’ll be following me, that or walking at my side, everywhere.

Once we’re in the bedroom, I notice the fancy dresses hanging on the outside of her closet. I don’t comment on them, mainly because I know exactly what they’re for.

Instead, I focus my attention on her and only her.

“Strip,” I demand. She spins around, her eyes wide as she watches me for a long moment.

“Strip?” she asks.

Nodding my head, I don’t make a move toward her. I stay where I am and wait. She shakes her head slowly, but her trembling hands start to move and they do exactly what I’ve demanded.

“I’m assuming the man today was not a lover, just a friend?” I ask. I know she thinks of him as a friend, but I’m still not convinced on him, probably never will be. She shimmies her panties down, stopping halfway, and looks up at me, her eyes wide.

“If he wasn’t?” she asks.

My lips curve up into a grin. “It would be a shame if he were no longer breathing.”

She gasps, her panties falling to her ankles as she stumbles backward, attempting to get away from me. It doesn’t work. We’re both very much in the same room and there is nowhere for her to go.

“What?” she exhales.

Taking a step toward her, I close the distance between us very quickly. Reaching out, I wrap my hand around the front of her throat and I hold her firmly. Not hard enough to hurt her, but she knows that I’m here and she’ll not be trying to escape me anytime soon.

“I don’t take kindly to the women I’m with fucking other men. This is not a problem, is it?”

I’m asking a question, but I already know the answer. She’s not fucking anyone else, hell, she hasn’t fucked anyone else in years. She’s mine now, and she’ll stay that way. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m about to steal her and keep her for myself.

“Are you with me?” she exhales, her pupils dilating and I know she’s turned on. It’s hot as fuck.

My lips curve up into a grin, leaning forward, I touch my lips to hers but I don’t deepen the kiss. Instead, my next words are against her mouth.

“You’re mine, Holland. Every fucking piece of you.”

She lets out a sigh and her body relaxes. I watch as she leans forward just slightly, her mouth against my own, and then I hear it. It’s so low, so soft, that I almost don’t, but I do catch it and I know that I’ve made the right decision. She’ll probably hate me when it’s going down, but in this moment, I know that without a doubt she won’t hate me forever.

“I am yours.”

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