Page 75 of Demitri

“It’s Thursday. College night. He can’t do it alone. I need to be there.”

“I hear you. And just this once, I’m going to have to tell you no,” Joker replies, his voice brokering no argument. “I’ll call around. We’ll get you some help for the night. Stay safe and I’ll talk to you later.”

When she lowers the phone, I turn to Mia. “I’m sorry. This is why I should have walked away. I put you in danger today. Because of me, because of who I am.”

“Fuck you, Demitri.”

Before I can respond, she flings open the door and exits, slamming it closed behind her. I jump out as quickly as I can and round the hood to get to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Damnit, I don’t want your apologies!”

She turns away from me but doesn’t really have anywhere to go. I reach out and take her hand, pulling her into my arms.

“I’m sorry,Krasotka. I’m so sorry your life is crazy because of me. I never wanted this to happen.”

She buries her face in my chest. “Is this why you left me before? Why you disappeared?”

“Yes.”

“I swear, if you do that again, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself, Demitri. Do you understand me?”

I don’t answer, but I lift her chin up and capture her lips in mine. The kiss starts soft and gentle, but quickly turns almost feral. Both of us waging war with our control. Our tongues battle, doing the dance of lovers everywhere. I turn her, pressing her back against the car. My hands grasp the sides of her face, my thumbs tracing her cheeks, my cock growing hard and demanding.

She’s unbuttoning my flannel and running her hands up under my shirt, first on my chest, then around my waist, pulling me closer to her.

“Are you sure you want this?” I ask, kissing down her neck, gently biting the tender skin at her shoulder.

“You are not going to fuck me against a Shelby,” she moans out as I suck at her skin.

“Fine,” I agree, picking her up and wrapping her legs around my waist. I turn, finding a work bench that’s blessedly free of clutter, and sit her on top of it. “How about here?”

“Yeah, works.” She pulls at my clothes. “Less clothing.”

I help her by removing my flannel and pulling the undershirt over my head and tossing it on the table beside her. She starts to fumble with my belt, her eager fingers threatening to unman me before we get started. I step back, much to her ire, and smirk.

“Krasotka, you have too many clothes on. I can’t devour you when you’re dressed.”

She looks down at herself and huffs out a laugh, like she forgot she was wearing anything.

“Keep going, Mister,” she demands as she pulls her shirt over her head, dropping it at her side.

She kicks off her shoes and shimmies out of her jeans, sitting on the table in only a white lace bra and mismatched blue panties with an obvious wet spot on them.

“Are you turned on?” I ask as I pull off my work boots and shuck my jeans.

“Yes. Get over here.” I raise my brow and she grins. “Please?”

“I can’t resist you when you’re polite,” I groan, moving between her legs.

“I don’t want you to resist me,” she says, pulling me in for another kiss. Just as heated as the last, but less violent.

She runs her hands over my body, like she’s memorizing all the details.

“I want you,” she whispers, kissing up my neck, her hands sliding inside my boxer briefs, gripping my dick.

“Mia,” I grunt at her touch. “I want you, too.”

---