Page 11 of Pucking Snowed In with the Enemy

CHAPTER

FOUR

SAVANNAH

The screeching noise made me cringe, and I pulled the blanket up higher and over my head, but it wouldn’t go away, and neither would the painful jackhammering inside my brain. It was as if something was trying to split my head open, the sharp piercing only accentuated by the throbbing behind my eyes and the flipping of my stomach. What the hell? Was I dying? If so, could it please just happen already? And for the love of fuck stop the screeching sound.

Beep, beep, beep.

My hand shot out from under the blankets, fumbling around for the source of the noise. I smacked my hand off my phone until it shut up. Silence filled the room, and my arm fell away from the nightstand, but my fingers managed to drag the phone with it.

“Fuck,” I grumbled as it hit the floor. When I dared to peek out of the covers, the room was mostly dark except for a narrow shaft of light pouring in through the drapes. The sun was up, and I was in a hotel room. I had downed a bottle of wine before the drinks at the bar with the god who gave me the best night of my life, but it all could’ve been a dream at this point. Other than the alcohol, that definitely happened.

Meeting. Fuck, I needed to get up because I had a meeting today. Shit, piss, fuck, damn. I didn’t so much throw the blankets off and sit up as I slid out from under them. I landed on the floor on my hands and knees, which was a step up from the fetal position I’d been in a moment ago.

I sucked in a sharp breath as the rest of my body joined the ‘I’m pissed off with you band’ and ached like I’d run a marathon before wrestling a bear that beat the shit out of me. My arms shook, my legs hurt, and I felt bruised. My abs were strained, my stomach was just all sorts of a mess, and my pussy felt like a rhino had torn it apart. Fucking hot guy had definitely happened. It was either that or I’d gone on some fucked up safari that let the animals have their way with me. Okay, that was an image I didn’t need to give myself. What the hell was wrong with me?

I dared to open my eyes, knowing it would only make it worse, and yet, I did it anyway. As soon as they opened, the floor swam, and my already volatile stomach churned.

“Oh no.” Pushing through the pain, I stood and hobbled dangerously on the high heels I was still wearing and limped for the bathroom. I covered my mouth and dropped down in front of the toilet just in time to add more misery to the company as I expelled everything left in my stomach, which then tried to turn itself inside out once finished.

“Fuck,” I mumbled and flopped over, my cheek lying on the cool tile. The only time in my life when I didn’t care if the floor was clean or not. I was dying anyway, so who gave a fuck if some strange germ got in my mouth.

Okay, another thought I didn’t need. Sitting up, I undid the heels that I was never wearing again, my feet hurt so fucking bad. Pushing myself up, I turned on the shower to warm up before hobbling over to the mirror. I looked like I’d gone a round with Mike Tyson before being dragged behind a car. My mascara was reduced to two dark streaks down my cheeks. Bruises lined my body. Partial or whole fingerprints were on my hips and arms, and there was a massive hickey on the side of my neck that I wasn’t sure makeup could cover. Jesus H. He didn’t just fuck me. He railed me like an animal.

I winced as pain lanced behind my eyes, but also an image of him ordering me to come as he pounded into me, and I had to grab the sink as my body reacted to the visceral memory. Forget vampire he was like fucking a demon, and a part of me was willing to sell a piece of my soul to be able to do it again.

Despite the hangover, I’d never felt more free or alive than I had last night, but it didn’t matter. Other than his name, Grigoriy, I didn’t know a single thing about him, not a number, last name, or place of work. He would forever be the sexy man who fucked like a demon. I had him for a few hours and suddenly didn’t care as much about Shawn and his betrayal or our canceled engagement. Heck, I didn’t even care when Shawn called the cops and had me questioned, and that was before I was raked over the coals by my boss as he put me on administrative leave so I could ‘get my head straight.’ Apparently, threatening to shoot the cheating, lying sack of shit, and forcing him out into a snowstorm was over-the-top behavior. I wished I’d shot a body part, so all in all, it could’ve been a whole fuck load worse.

Again, this was not something you should share with your boss either, which was what landed me on the ‘Off work til I tell you otherwise’ list.

With my toothbrush in hand, I brushed my teeth vigorously before looking at the shower. It seemed so far away, but I managed to make it across the room. The water felt like a reset button on my life, and I’d never been so happy to brush my teeth.

By the time I emerged from what had to be an endless supply of hot water, I wasn’t great, but I was improving and smelling better. Grabbing the lone towel off the rack, I sucked in a deep breath as I remembered Grigoriy gently cleaning my body. That single act might be able to rival everything else combined.

I dabbed away the water between my legs and could still feel the warm cloth as he cleaned my thighs and then my pussy, shockingly wiping me properly and not like he was trying to scrub off dried wax from a car.

Okay, head, get in the game.

By the time I was dressed with my hair dry and makeup on, I was ready to go back to bed and stay there for a week.

Picking my phone up off the floor, I rolled my eyes at the missed calls from my mother and Shawn. I was not dealing with whatever they wanted to talk about. My mother had been calling non-stop and said the same thing every time. She claimed she had never liked Shawn, which wasn’t true. She thought the sun rose and set out of his asshole. Then she would say she was so happy I finally got rid of him, and I would agree with her as she rambled on about how much better off I was. Although I was better off, I didn’t want to rehash it. Shawn was calling because I had put all his shit in boxes and left it in the garage before changing all the locks on the house and the password on the alarm. I even paid for a security service to sit in the driveway and make sure he didn’t try anything stupid as he packed up his shit and got it out of my life.

The house was mine before we got together, a gift from my stepfather when I graduated university a whole year early and was accepted to the FBI academy. If Shawn thought for a second that he was entitled to anything, then I would make a call. I didn’t want to because it felt like it was below me, but I was willing to stoop that low and have my stepfather or ex-stepfather deal with Shawn. Mr. Rosales was a scary politician and businessman and connected to some shady people. I didn’t want to know who or what because having to arrest your stepfather was not ideal.

Slipping on my black sunglasses and my purse, I impressed myself as I made it down the elevator, through the lobby, and into my awaiting ride without falling over or puking again.

“Where to?”

“Hailov Tower,” I said. The driver didn’t ask for any further information and pulled away from the hotel. I kept my eyes closed and focused on my breathing for the whole ride. I probably should’ve canceled this meeting, but I’d been chasing my tail all over town trying to find the owner of the strip club where Alex was last seen, and I finally had the answer.

I was shocked when I so easily managed to book a meeting with the CEO, Mr. Nathaniel Mikhailov. From the little I’d been able to dig up on him and his family so far, they were Russian mafia and very powerful. Just because Alex had been at a strip club owned by the mafia didn’t necessarily mean anything, but no one at the club remembered Alex, and he was the type you remembered. Either because he was busy throwing money around or he would be flirting with all the girls and pissing off all the guys. I pulled out the only photo I could find on line of the CEO of the Mikhailov empire. He was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair with blue eyes that gave me the creeps despite his good looks.

We pulled up in front of a fancy office building covered in black mirrored glass. Wow, this was a lot fancier than I pictured. Handing over the money for the ride, I got out and sucked in a deep breath, getting control of my churning stomach.

I felt like a lame horse, hobbling across the front entrance and then up to the elevators. I already knew that Mr. Mikhailov’s office was on the top floor. Of course, it was.

With a ding, the doors opened, and a handful of people got off, all of them talking on their phones and looking very serious like no one else was important. Did I look like that when I was working?