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“Call it a momentary lapse of judgment.” My voice is icy as I straighten my tie. I may have put a stop to things, but does she need to act so disgusted? “From now on, just follow my orders. And never, ever wear white in front of me again.”
Then, before I do anything really fucking stupid like drop to my knees and taste her cunt, I turn and leave, praying an ice-cold shower will calm the beast raging in my pants.
Chapter11
GEORGIA
I don’t see Andrei for the next week, but he’s never far from my thoughts. Memories of his hands roaming my body play on repeat in my mind. How ironic is it that this man I despise also turns me on like no one’s business?
Ironic and disturbing.
Where Andrei is concerned, my body is not in-synch with my head. The pure want I feel when I am near him is unsettling. He oozes danger, ferocity, dominance, and he collects art. Apparently that makes me very, very wet.
What kind of twisted person craves their captor’s touch? It’s just that compared to my experiences with boys, he’s all man. Andrei, with his unforgiving eyes and lush, stern mouth, knew exactly how to coax maximum pleasure from my body.
And then he rejected me. Gah! I let myself get carried away in the moment, but I won’t make that same mistake again. Ever.
Before I double over in shame, Natalia’s voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. She’s currently leading me down the byzantium hallways in the manor's basement for my next training session.
“How do you think your training is going so far?” she asks, while still maintaining her efficient gait.
“Fine, I guess.” I’ve been learning Krav Maga, an Israeli self-defense and fighting system, which is surprisingly fun and a great workout. The computer hacking stuff is challenging, but pretty cool. What hasn’t been going quite as smoothly is the firearm lessons.
Natalia makes a noise that sounds like a harrumph before turning to face me. “And the firearms training?”
I blow out a frustrated breath. Every day, my training starts at the gun range where I refuse to hold a pistol because those killing machines terrify me. Instead, I watch as Boris, my trainer, shows me the basics of how to hold a gun and make it safe. He insisted that I have to at least pick up the gun in my next session. Despite his intimidating frown, I just smile vaguely at him. Me and guns don’t mix, and I have no intention of learning how to use one.
“Boris has been showing me what I need to know,” I say defensively. “I think that’s a good start.”
“If you don’t listen to Boris, we’ll have to replace him with someone that you will listen to.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Natalia just shakes her head and continues walking down the long hallway. I think about asking her who Kira is to the brothers, but she’s unlikely to tell me. Andrei also warned me never to mention her to anyone, and never to reveal the true reason for my training. I suspect Natalia knows, but I won’t push it. Nothing matters other than getting out of here and rescuing Dad. Somehow. I still don’t have much of a plan.
As we round a corner, I hear grunts and heavy breathing, followed by rough male voices.
“What is that?” I ask, as unease drips down my spine. What if we’re going to the dungeons? I don’t know for a fact that they have a dungeon in this home, but I assume every Bratva compound has one. Oleg did.
Natalia stops in front of an open door on our right and waves me close. I peek around the door to find a fully furnished gym complete with punching bags, speed balls, and a boxing ring in the center of the room.
Shirtless, sweaty and all male, Andrei spars in the ring with Yulian.
“You call that a jab?” Andrei taunts Yulian, who grunts in response and attempts another hit. His square jaw is tight, eyes focused as Andrei deftly moves out of reach.
Fuck me.
My mouth goes dry and my heart rate accelerates to a full on gallop as I watch sweat drip down his muscular form. Intricate tattoos grace his back and chest, leaving his forearms bare, save for the corded veins underneath his skin. Andrei is fit, that much is obvious through clothes, but with his shirt off he’s smoking hot. Lean, taut muscle in all the right places, a smattering of hair on his chest, and that little V that leads down tothere.
I look back up to find Andrei’s eyes on me. He winks and gives me a cocky grin that suggests he knows exactly what I was thinking a moment ago. This man needs no more ego-stroking, so I offer him a bored look instead, but I doubt he’s fooled by my suddenly cool demeanor.
“Just to be clear, that’s not part of my training, right?” My voice is a hoarse croak.
Natalia snorts. “Not unless you want it to be.”
“Definitely not,” I gulp. Although I certainly don’t mind the view, I have no desire to be that close to Andrei while he’s sweaty and leaking hot male pheromones, and likely itching to discipline me for any misstep on my part.
Why that turns me on is something I am going to have to further examine in therapy.
