Page 28

But tonight he’s clad all in black, in a suit that some tailor clearly hand stitched to fit him.

His shirt is open at the neck, exposing just enough corded muscle to set the pulse between my legs thrumming.

He stands a full head and shoulders above every man in the place, and in the dim light his face looks carved from granite.

He’s unsmiling, his eyes scanning the floor, and by the wary glances the other security men give him, he’s clearly in no mood to be messed around.

It doesn’t escape my notice that every woman in the place is staring at him like they’re in the desert and he’s the only fucking water source.

I’m torn between the desire to stalk past the gawking women and claim him as my own and an equally fierce urge to bolt out the back door and run for my life.

I still haven’t decided what to do when his eyes settle on me.

Not just settle.

Dimitry’s eyes pin me in place as effectively as if he loomed over me. Dark, cavernous, and infinitely dangerous, his gaze rakes my skin with such savage intensity I can barely catch my breath.

There’s something about seeing him here, at night, that is utterly different to any time I’ve seen him before.

This isn’t the laughing, teasing Dimitry who came into the café every morning with Roman.

Nor is it the slightly disheveled version who came to collect me after my shifts at the café, nor even the man who has stripped me naked and known every inch of my body.

This Dimitry is the dangerous people he mentioned back on that beach. It’s the man I know has more than one gun beneath his jacket and a willingness to get violent at the slightest sign of trouble.

And I should really hate that. I should want to be far away from it.

Instead, I’ve never wanted him more.

The desire is hot and fierce, a sudden, urgent need that has nothing to do with rationality. It’s primal, raw, and suddenly, utterly undeniable.

The feeling settles over me as his eyes do. It’s a moment of realization that takes only seconds, but feels as if a lifetime just shifted. In the time it takes for him to look me up and down, I somehow move a world away from the person I was before he walked in here.

I’m already out of the bar before I know what I’m doing. I’m already crossing the floor toward him, ready to throw my arms around his neck and damn the consequences, when a shout comes from behind me.

I turn, but even as I do, I have the horrible slow-motion feeling of impending disaster.

The bachelor’s party has suddenly erupted in a tangled mess of limbs and drunken violence, fists flying in all directions. I can hear Gregor roaring at me to move, but my legs feel clumsy and slow. I stumble, scrambling to get out of the way before they crash into me.

Then hard arms come around me, and Dimitry is there, thrusting me behind him, against the wall.

He turns his shoulder into the oncoming rush of men, brutally breaking them apart as if they were a wave crashing upon a rock.

He plucks one from the center of the group and throws him bodily into the air, sending him crashing through the exit onto the street.

He spins and takes the next one, punching him hard enough he drops to the floor like a lead weight.

Then, as Gregor and the other men rush to help, he’s a whirlwind of lethal efficiency, dispatching one after another of the inebriated men, so quickly that the entire thing is virtually over before most of the bar has even realized what is happening.

“Get them out of here,” Dimitry growls to his men as he kicks another one out the door. “Make it quick.” The brawlers, bewildered and bleeding, are dumped unceremoniously outside, where they stare dazedly up at him from the ground.

“Oi,” one of them says with injured pride. “What did you do that for, mate? We was just having a good time.”

“Have it somewhere fucking else,” Dimitry snarls, kicking the man’s legs out of the way of the door. “And learn how to drink first. If you can’t do that, at least learn how to fucking fight.” He slams the door in their faces, then turns and strides straight to me, the crowd parting before him.

“Abby.” His hands rest on either side of my face, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of my body. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I cover his hands with my own, feeling absurdly tearful as I shake my head. “No, Dimitry. I’m fine.”

“Thank God.” Pulling me against him, one large hand holding my head against his chest, he gives a series of rapid orders, which send the group of men with him scurrying hastily upstairs. “I brought ten men with me, and there’s more on the way,” he tells Gregor. “Think you can hold it from here?”

“Absolutely,” Gregor says. “Thanks, brother.”

“I need to get Abby out of here,” Dimitry says curtly. “Any more trouble, Bryce is upstairs. He can handle it.”

“Got it.”

I feel Dimitry reach out to grip Gregor’s shoulder, though the hand cradling my head doesn’t move. Then he’s half walking, half carrying me across the floor, my feet barely touching the ground.

“Are you going to throw me over your shoulder again?” I say against his chest when we hit the sidewalk.

“Don’t tempt me.” His laugh rumbles against my cheek, and I cling to him, inhaling his smoky, spicy scent like it’s life.

“What were you doing, working tonight?” Stepping back from me, still cradling my face in his hands, he studies me, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. “I thought it was your night off.”

I put my hands on his chest, needing to touch him, to reassure myself that he’s really here. “I only came in because I thought I might see you,” I say shakily. “Lucia told me you’d be here tonight.”

“Christ.” He shakes his head. “I nearly wasn’t here at all. I don’t even want to think of what would have happened...”

“It’s okay.” Moving in close, I reach up and kiss his cheek, my lips lingering against the rough hint of stubble on his skin. “You were here. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“Is it, Skip?” He stares down at me, his eyes dark as the sea. “Are you sure?”

I nod slowly. “I’m sure. God, Dimitry, I’m so sure.” My eyes settle on the open V at the top of his shirt, then drop to the hard expanse leading down to the thin suit belt. “Take me home,” I whisper, desire ripping through me so powerfully it leaves me breathless. “Please. ”

He spins me around, his lips, pressed to my neck, turning me to liquid heat.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Skip.” He walks me across the road to his Range Rover, his hands roaming all over me from behind until I’m moaning.

He opens the door for me and lifts me bodily into the car, his hand up my skirt and between my thighs as he takes my mouth, kissing me so fiercely people in the car park start to hoot-whistle.

“Fuck off.” Dimitry grins as he flips them the bird.

He comes around the car and opens his own door, his hand going possessively over my thigh as he pulls out onto the road.

“Lucky your place is only five minutes from here,” he growls, putting his foot to the metal.

“I’m not sure I can wait any longer than that. ”

He turns to look me up and down again. “Christ. We need to get you girls longer skirts.”

“You don’t like this one?” I spread my legs slightly as his hand slides higher.

“Can’t wait to see you without it.”

I giggle, then gasp as his hand covers me.

“Fuck, Skip,” he says hoarsely, manipulating me slowly. “I want to be inside you so badly.”

He pulls the car to the curb outside my apartment and is out of it almost before the engine has stopped turning, pulling me out of my seat and toward the door, his hands already sliding up my legs as I fumble for my keys.

“This ass,” he murmurs as I turn the key in the lock. “Even that terrible skirt can’t hide how hot it is.”

I stagger into the stairwell as he kisses my neck. He lifts me onto the first step. “Up you go, Skip,” he says, smiling evilly when I turn back to him. “I definitely want to watch you climb those stairs.”

I make a show of it, swaying my ass as I go, savoring his low whistle and the feel of his eyes. Halfway up I pull the T-shirt over my head and unclip my bra, dropping them as I go. At the top of the stairs I turn, giving him a full view of my bared breasts and hard nipples.

“Holy fuck.” He stares at me, eyes devouring every inch.

“Are you coming, muscle boy, or are you just going to look at me all night?”

Dimitry comes slowly up the stairs, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I could look at you forever, Skip, and it would still feel like the first time.” His mouth takes mine like fire, and he backs me toward my door, taking the key from my hand and turning it himself, then kicking it closed behind us.

I pull off his jacket and tug at his shirt, but he puts his hands over mine and pushes them away. “I want that skirt gone.”

I can see how hard he is beneath the suit pants. I also hear the faintly commanding note in his voice, sense the adrenaline still coursing through him.

It’s a fierce, illicit thrill, like lightning crackling between us.

Turning my back on him, I peek over my shoulder as I shimmy my hips so the skirt slides off to lie in a pool at my feet.

I step out of it, leaving only my lace Brazilian-cut knickers.

I part my legs slightly and push my ass toward him. “Is this what you meant by gone?”

“It’ll do for now.” He folds his arms and leans back against the door. “Now turn around.”

I turn slowly, so swollen and hot between my legs that I’d do anything he fucking asked.

“Your nipples have been hard since I first saw you in Pillars.” His voice is low, his eyes never leaving me. “And your pussy is so swollen that if I touched you, you’d come.”

I gasp, my knees almost buckling at his words.