Page 5 of From Russia With Blood

I remember what it was like to be new and ready to explore. Her enthusiasm is contagious, and she almost makes me forget everything. Almost. There’s still that niggle of apprehension as we make our way up to the desk. Far too soon for my nerves, we are the next in line. Do or die.

I half pay attention to the lady checking us in, noting the small bite of Russian in her accent, but my mind is more than preoccupied. What little ground I gained is rapidly sifting out from underneath me. The tiny thread of dread expands until it coalesces into a near panic attack. The wind picks up outside, stirring the gray waters outside the window. She already has our passes, so it’s too late to bolt. Besides, as terrified as I am, I can’t leave my friend alone with these strangers.

To my knowledge, she’s never really engaged in this type of play before. She doesn’t know the agony that can come with the added rejection of feeling like you’re a freak. Motion in front of me drags my brain back to the present and my eyes away from the gathering storm. All of our luggage goes through the x-ray machine and waits for us in a haphazard pile.

“Here are your bands and phone. Keep these with you at all times. You’ll get a detailed orientation instructing you on how to use them after you get settled in. We have a copy of your medical records and proof of your contraception. Also, rest assured that this is an adults-only cruise. No one under the age of twenty-one is allowed to attend. We do background checks on all travelers.”

The woman’s smile barely reaches her eyes, and I can’t tell if she’s tired or just over today. There’s a slight menace buried, a slight acridity beneath her tone, but that could just be her accent playing tricks on me.

“Also,” she continues, straightening up her stack of papers, “there is the chance that you’ll get nauseated on your journey if you’re overly sensitive or new to this method of travel. Since we want all our guests to enjoy Oceantides Cruise Line to its fullest, our nurses are more than able to deliver an intravenous infusion of anti-nausea medicine and other supplemental nutrients. Just one more way we aim to please.”

Nodding, I take my blood-red band and glance over at Lizzy's, noting the pale pink. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it probably denotes how innocent she is. Guilt swamps me as we make our way down to the luggage pile, and I start stacking her stuff first in an attempt to be useful. I’ve been acting horrid about this whole trip, and she’s right. It’s all for me.

Yeah, there’s always been a curiosity from her about the lifestyle, but she’s never really indulged. She seemed happy to live vicariously through me and our mutual love of explicit romances. That’s the main reason I can’t just be selfish and leave. If she goes into this thinking it’s going to be like those novels, she will be sorely mistaken. Fairytales just don’t happen, and they for sure don’t happen in the span of two weeks.

Patting down my jacket, I check again for my passport and ticket before following the train of people to the boat. The wind beats against the window, rekindling my dread about this trip, but no one else seems to notice. If they do, they definitely don’t care. Panic claws at my insides the closer we get to the outer door. The need to throw up fills my brain, pushing everything else to the side.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

I turn to find my mystery man staring at me, his blue eyes peering into my own. My knees start to give way, as if I’m about to faint, but that’s not possible. Just being next to a man shouldn’t do that.

“Unlock your knees. Look at me.”

My eyes dart back to his, so warm, so concerned, so...intense. It’s almost too much. Lizzy’s frantic breath washes over me as she kneels down, her fingers plucking at my jacket to pull it the rest of the way off. But it’s not that. It’s not the heat. How do I tell my best friend and the perfect stranger that we’re going to die on this cruise? How do I even make that a coherent sentence that won’t get me kicked out of here, never to be allowed back?

I swallow to give my brain time to come up with something plausible. “I hate cruises.”

Lizzy stops petting me for a moment and spears me with a glare that could freeze hell over. “Yes. Tell the handsome man that you’d rather be anywhere else than here with him on this ship.”

Heat crawls up my face as his lips twitch up into a smirk. Great. Just what I needed. Any chance I had with this guy just fluttered away. Thanks Lizzy. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention to your ever-falling stack of luggage? I’m good here. Thanks.” Sighing, I turn back to the man, desperate to repair things before it got too late. “Don’t mind me. I -.”

“Well, I do mind. Now, look at me.”

His eyes flick back and forth as he searches for something before lifting his palm to brush it against my forehead. Sparks erupt over my body as his fingers dance across my scalp. Irritation twists beneath my skin as he continues to fuss at me, checking me out from head to toe. The last thing I need is for him to see me as pathetic and weak.

Pulling back, I stand up, swaying just a moment. “I’m good. Fine. Better than fine. I’m perfect.”

The frown slashing his lips sets my stomach flipping. Nausea and bile rise up as he stands to tower over me, body vibrating with something akin to fury. It’s too close to what I really want. Too much like a stern taskmaster.

“I don’t tolerate liars. Just remember that.” Glancing down, he smirks again as he looks at my wrist.

My brain screams at me to hide it, to deny him knowing any little bit about me. He’s dangerous. The predator beneath his skin pokes through, just a little, just enough to let me know I’m not safe with him. It’s that danger that calls to me, demands I give in and let him take charge, but I’m not that girl anymore. I won’t just roll over because a man exudes the right pheromones.

“It doesn’t really matter what you tolerate, does it?” A false bravado has me standing up just a bit taller and pulling my shoulders back. He wasn’t my Dom. We hadn’t negotiated shit. Steel slithers up my spine, and I stand even straighter. That smirk is back in all its infuriating glory. “Just forget it. Thank you for helping, but we're good.”

I shove my arms back through the sleeves of my jacket, preparing for the chill that’s sure to hit us as we head outside. It doesn't matter that it’s sweltering in here; I can’t let him continue to see me as weak. That will just make him want to destroy me even more. And as much as I’m letting myself feel a hint of excitement about this trip, I’m still not planning on playing with my heart.

“The name’s Jackson.”

I peer down at his hand, noting the solid, black band around his wrist. Nodding, I turn back to Lizzy and start to shove her out the door. “Mine’s Subbie Number Five. No doubt you’ll forget it.” With one final heave, I shove both Lizzy and her luggage out the door.

Chapter 3

Jackson

I can’t stop the full-face grin as it climbs up. The girl has some spunk, that’s for sure. Nodding over to the chief officer, I gather up my bags and follow the women out. I’m not here for love; hell, I’m not even here for lust, but that tight ass and smart mouth has my fingers itching in a way they haven’t in a while.

The more I watch this mystery woman, the more I want to get to know her and not in a polite, take you to breakfast sort of way. I want her down on her knees with my cock shoved deep into her throat. Blood pulses through my body as I peel off every bit of her clothing with my mind, starting with that hideous jacket.