He brings me into the master bedroom. It’s decorated in soothing shades of beige and brown with lots of wood accents. There’s another ridiculous view out the tall windows, but it disappears when he tells Alexa to close the drapes.
He sets me on the bed, removes my shoes, and pulls the covers over me.
Then he turns to leave.
“You’re going?”
He stops and looks back. A small smile plays around his full lips. I can tell my tone pleased him, but he’s trying not to be obnoxious about it.
“You don’t want me to?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I sigh and burrow deeper under the covers. “Maybe?”
“Let me know when you’re sure. Until then, sleep well.”
He leaves, closing the door softly behind him.
Now I’m wide awake again.
I roll to my back, fling off the covers, and stare at the ceiling for a long time, going over everything in my head. Except my head is full of mashed potatoes. It’s like I’m trying to do algebra. I can’t come up with anything that makes sense.
The only thing I know for sure is that no matter what he did or how mad I am at him, I’d feel better if Kage’s arms were around me.
I throw my legs over the side of the bed, go to the door, and open it. Then I pull up short.
Kage is standing there, leaning against the wall next to the door with his massive arms folded over his chest and his head bowed.
He looks up at me. Our eyes meet. A jolt like a thunderbolt goes through me, hot and powerful, all the way to my toes.
We stand there staring at each other in crackling silence until I say softly, “Will you please come in and—”
He pushes off the wall and grabs me, crushing his mouth to mine.
The kiss is desperate. Devouring. When we come up for air, I say breathlessly, “Hold me?”
Walking me backward toward the bed, he growls, “Hold you? Sure. Right after I fuck you.”
“Kage—”
“Red or green, baby.” He pushes me onto the bed, kneels, plants his hands on either side of my head, and kisses me again, ravenously.
It’s like my hands have a mind of their own, because they instantly tangle themselves into his hair and start pulling.
He breaks away from my mouth, chuckling. “That’s what I thought.”
He rears up to his knees, pulls his shirt over his head, and tosses it away, grinning down at me.
He’s so beautiful I lose my breath.
His grin dies and he growls, “I fucking love it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re mine.”
He tugs off my shirt. He tears off my bra. My jeans and panties he dispenses with in a few quick moves, then I’m naked underneath him, trembling.
He takes a moment to run his hands slowly down my body, from my chest to my thighs, staring at me with the eyes of a hungry wolf. Then he rips open the fly of his jeans.
“Say it.”
My voice comes out in a whisper. “I’m yours.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling. When he opens his eyes, he reaches into his pants and fists his erection, pulling it out and stroking it from base to tip.
“Say it again, baby.”
I take a breath and blow it out. Every cell in my body is singing. “I’m yours, Kage. Even when I hate you, I love you. Whatever happens, we’ll work it out.”
With a groan, he falls on top of me. Then he’s kissing me again, pushing up to an elbow and spreading my thighs open with his hips. I run my hands down his muscular back to his ass, sliding my hands under his jeans and sinking my fingernails into his skin.
Then I softly laugh.
He couldn’t wait to take off his pants or boots again.
“Laughing while I fuck you will earn you a spanking,” he says hotly.
“Then I guess I better keep laughing.”
Gazing down at me with adoring eyes, he whispers, “Ya tebya lyublyu. I love you. Ty nuzhnah mne. I need you. Ty moy. You’re mine.”
Then he slides inside me and proves it all.
45
Nat
Over the next week, what seems like a hundred men in suits come and go from the penthouse, paying their respects to their new king.
There are serious handshakes. Formal double cheek kisses. Quiet conversations in the library with whiskey and cigars.
And always, on arrival and departure, a bow and a kiss to Kage’s signet ring.
He introduces me to some of the men. When others arrive, he quickly ushers me out of the room. I know the intention isn’t to keep more secrets, but to protect me.
No cast in any mafia movie I’ve ever seen comes close to the reality of the darkness and danger those men wear like a second set of clothing. It’s palpable. A scary vibration in the air. An unmistakable energy of violence hovers over them, emanating from their narrowed, watchful eyes.
If Sloane were here, she’d be in hog heaven.
I do my best to be poised and polite, though I don’t know what’s expected of me. I don’t know how I fit into this world, or if I do at all. The only certainty is that Kage always wants me within arms’ reach.
If I’m across the room, he’ll come and stand beside me. If he’s talking with someone and I’m not near, he’ll beckon with his finger. His gaze is always on me, too, following me with a focus and heat I feel as a tingle of awareness under my skin.
I told him I love him, but I’m not sure love is a complex enough word.
There’s a weight to this thing I feel for him. A darkness. A violent edge, like what I see in the dangerous men’s eyes.
It frightens me, because I know his life, by its very nature, is unsafe. I thought I’d never recover when David disappeared, but in the end, I survived. I even thrived without him.
If anything happens to Kage, I doubt I’ll be so resilient. There’s a hairline fracture inside me that he’s holding together. If I ever lose him, I’ll break.
So I can’t lose him. It’s as simple as that.
“Here you are.”
When Kage presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck, I jump in surprise. I’d been lost in thought, staring out the living room window to the expansive view of Central Park. The sun is setting. The shadows grow long over the ponds, jogging paths, and trees.
“I wanted to give you a minute with Stavros. The poor guy looked like he was about to crap his pants. I didn’t want to make it worse for him by standing there as he had a meltdown.”
Kage smirks. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me close. “It’s a good thing you weren’t there, too. You would’ve gone ballistic.”
“Why?”
“He asked permission to kidnap Sloane.”
“What?”
“He’s not over her. Wants her back. Thinks the best way to do it is to force her into close proximity.”
When I stare at him in horror, he adds, “I said no, baby.”
“I’m not worried about Sloane. I’m worried about what would happen to poor Stavros if he dared to kidnap her. She’d castrate him with a rusty butter knife and choke him to death with the stub of his own dick.”
He chuckles. “Yes. That one’s trouble.” His eyes grow warm and his voice drops. “Not like my good girl.”
I quirk my lips and elbow him in the ribs. “Don’t be so sure I’m good. There’s a reason we’re best friends, gangster. We’re twin souls.”