Page 44

That part is true. But the other part I need to factor is Zane.

I said tomorrow. And tomorrow is suddenly today.

I start doing math in my head while I look at strawberries. A stop. A message. A lie about needing a charger, a bathroom, five minutes of air.

It could work.

If I vanish on a “scouting mission,” Dmitri will not write it off as nerves. If I stand Zane up after promising an exit plan, Zane will sell me to whoever pays.

“You impressed me last night,” Dmitri says, breaking my thoughts.

Heat floods my face. My cock answers the memory before I can stop it. Running. The crop. The gel. Crawling. Dmitri’s mouth between my cheeks like I was something he might keep…

“It wasn’t so tough,” I answer.

Dmitri laughs, low and pleased with himself.

I clench my jaw until it hurts. I do not want to be funny. I want him to take me seriously, not like a toy that said a brave thing with crop marks still hot under denim.

“It is the beginning,” Dmitri says. “Do not confuse surviving one trial with being ready.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’m ready for more.”

Dmitri smirks and finishes the croissant hen drains the coffee.

“Hurry. There is no time to waste.”

I leave the pastry untouched. The coffee goes down scalding.

“I’m ready,” I say. “I’ll work hard. You can count on me. You’ll see.”

He nods once.

We walk. The private elevator opens. I step in expecting marble and the lobby doorman and daylight.

The car drops. And keeps dropping. My stomach catches up a floor too late.

Basement level...

The doors open on a private lot that looks like a showroom for people who do not wait in traffic.

Dmitri walks me past cars I could sell for a new life and stops at a Japanese superbike.

Low. Sharp. Built to make noise and then leave the noise behind.

“Our mode of transport for today,” Dmitri says, his eyes covering every inch of the Kawasaki.

Dmitri holds out a helmet. I take it. The padding kisses the heat in my cheeks.

Dmitri swings on first. I climb up behind him, clumsy, sore, trying not to flinch when the seat meets my ass.

My arms go around his waist.

There it is…

The current. Not the crop. Not the command. Just the hard line of his body and the fact of my own body fitted to his like the bike already decided we were one thing.

The engine catches.