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“What?” Were we still speaking the same language? I ran through the English dictionary in my head, trying to remember if there was some alternate meaning to the word “help.” Nope. None that I could think of.
“I want to help you, Sasha.” Roan was practically on the edge of the couch, his body turned toward me so much our knees touched. Hope shone in his eyes, hardly tempered by the angry line of his mouth. “I want to help get whatever is in that bank that’s so damn important. I don’t care if it’s money or nuclear fucking launch codes.”
For the second time, I nearly had to pick my jaw up off the ground. “Why?”
Bitter as it was, he forced himself to smile. “My asshole father values the security of his bank more than my life. He knows if he gave you the key and the customer found out,hewould be dead. I want to watch him sweat. I want him to look over his shoulder, wondering ‘Is today the day?’”
Shit… did he know whose deposit box we wanted? I didn’t. As far as the operation went, it wasn’t important. I was beginning to think I’d been misinformed.
Had this been a test all along? Some fucking game Viktor set up? He obviously had a rat in his brigade, but if my real purpose was to flush them out, why didn’t he say that instead of this wild goose chase?
A cold unease crawled into my stomach. I was tired of being tested. I’d proven my worth, my abilities, for over twenty fucking years. It was never enough.
“I know how that bank got started,” Roan continued, earnest and irritated all at once. “Prohibition. You think the early investors were good people? They were mobsters. Guys like O’Banion and Capone. They needed a safe place to clean their dirty money and my great-grandfather gave it to them.”
What he was saying made sense — more sense than the limited information Viktor revealed along the way.
“I want him to be afraid,” Roan concluded, his voice lowering at the same time he turned his face away from me. “Like I was.”
Surprise stilled my tongue. From an early age, I had fear beaten out of me. On the rare occasion it flickered, I refused to acknowledge it and I wouldneveradmit it out loud. But he did — to the person who caused the fear, no less.
One thing kept circling in the back of my head — Roan cameback, even after everything I’d done. He didn’t tell the police who I was, or I would have been arrested by now. He didn’t stay away, locked safely in his father’s mansion. No, he wandered the streets of Chicago asking to speak to the man who’d kidnapped him, beaten him, and did disgusting things to his cock.
Springing out of the chair, I put as much distance between us as possible. Exhaling a breath, I kept my back to him and closed my eyes. Despite my efforts, I could still remember how he felt, the sounds he made, how he tasted.
Fucking animal.
Savage.
Filth.
“Sasha?” Turning at the sound of my name, I flinched. He stood right next to me, a small crease between his eyebrows. “Where’d you go?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m right here.”
“You don’t look ok all of a sudden...”
I grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and shoved him against the wall. “What the fuck do you know about how I look? You think you can walk in here, making demands? I should snap your fucking neck and take the key from your dead body.”
“You’re not going to do that,” he shot back with that fucking smirk, his previous concern for my welfare gone in the blink of an eye. He might have been afraid once upon a time, but he certainly wasn’t now. “Youneedme.”
“You think you know what I need, hmm?” We were nose-to-nose, so close I could feel his heartbeat pick up beneath my fist. “You don’t know shit about me, boy.”
“I know whenever you get close to me, you can’t keep your hands off of me. I bet you’re hard right now.” His chin tipped up a second before he grabbed my cock. It was already halfway to hard, but feeling the heat of his hand through the my pants finished it off. He smiled like the cat that ate the damn canary, adding more pressure.
“Get your fucking hand off of me,” I snarled, throwing a cautious glance toward the door.
Grabbing ahold of my wrists, he spun suddenly, pushing me against the wall with surprising strength. “You could have killed me at any point, but you didn’t. And you won’t. So stop with the bullshit.”
I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “What makes you so sure it’s bullshit?”
His mouth hovered over mine, his stunning eyes staring right through me, like he knew my dirtiest secret. Then his lips were on mine. Full and soft and so fucking trusting.
Seizing his face between my hands, I dug my fingers into the back of his skull. I could crush it. Ishouldcrush it and end the twisted feelings snaking their way through my insides.
Perversion. That’s what it was. Foul and loathsome perversion.
Roan’s lips parted and his tongue slipped out, tracing my bottom lip. My mouth seemed to open by itself. The wickedness in my blood drove my tongue out to meet his, a pitiful moan sounding in the back of my throat. He matched it with one of his own, like kissing me gave him some sort of relief. When his hips pressed against mine, it obliterated any question as to how aroused he was. His hands splayed against my chest, eventually drifting southward, flattening against my abs, lower and lower…
