Page 33 of Dangerous Refuge

“That’s right,” he says. He picks up the pace, thrusting harder and harder, his cock sliding in and out of me. I can hear the sloshing of the water as it dances off our bodies and hits the floor. I lift my leg up and he hooks an arm beneath my knee, and I nearly come on the spot. The new angle is intense. “I can do whatever I want with you, can’t I?”

I nod. I’m not sure I can speak. Whimpering has taken over my ability to speak.

“Say it,” he says. “Tell me you’re mine to do whatever I want with.”

“I’m yours… to do… whatever you want with,” I say quickly, panting between phrases. “I’m yours to do whatever you want with,” I repeat. This time my voice is louder, desperate. I need him.

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yes,” I say.

"You're mine to marry?" he growls, and I suck in a breath, clawing at his skin as my pussy clenches around his girth.

"You're mine to keep?" he says, and I moan as he slams his cock into me and I feel myself start to fall apart.

"You're mine to fuck?" he says, and I fall over the edge into orgasmic depths of pleasure and my body writhes and convulses in twitches against his, each spasm of my pussy sending another shockwave of pleasure through me. When his heat floods me I he grunts and bites down on my shoulder, not even bothering to move the soggy strands of hair. His teeth pinch my skin and I let out a yelp, but I’m too busy shuddering around him to make him stop.

I may have distracted him tonight from pressing the issue, but I don't think I'll be as lucky tomorrow. I need to be more careful. Maybe I need a better plan.

18

SVEN

Irinse myself off and give Allie a nice hard smack on the ass—hard enough to leave a handprint on her left butt cheek. She gasps then chuckles, turning her back on me, and I leave her there to shower. She’s hiding something, using sex as a means to disguise her lies and deceptive behavior. If I weren’t the one being lied to I’d be admittedly humbled by how good she is at the tactic. I dry off and dress as I marvel over how this woman is my perfect match and she doesn’t even know it yet.

I was certain she’d blow a gasket when that priest said my last name last week, but Allie didn’t bat an eyelash. Maybe the name Gusev means nothing to her. If so she’s very far removed from the organized crime scene, which isn’t a bad thing. It just means even more of a shock to her system when I finally explain who I am and what I do. I am simply waiting for a time to divulge my truth when it seems most appealing, the way my protection seems the lesser of two evils now.

Dressed and now on a mission, I head down to my office. On the way, I send Tucker a text to return to the office nestled in the far northwest corner of my home. He’s already gotten an earful tonight from me about losing her in that department store, and after hearing her side, I know he isn’t at fault for that. Now I have a new order for him. It’s one I can do myself, but I’m proving a point to him. Dominic wants everyone vetted and despite my confidence in Tucker as my personal right-hand man, I have to test him.

He's there waiting for me when I walk in, though he has the sense to wait outside my door. “Boss,” he says, opening the door for me. I brush past him and stroll right to my desk and flip on the lamp. The old tortoise shell Tiffany lamp illuminates the room which smells like leather and whiskey, two of my favorite things. I sit behind my desk and gesture to the empty chair across from me where Tucker takes a seat and crumples his hat in his hands.

“You fucked up today.” I reach into my desk drawer, an old 1800’s wooden block that weighs more than four hundred pounds. It took three large men to maneuver this contraption into this room but it has a civil war vibe I can’t find anywhere else. I love it.

Tucker’s head hangs in shame and his hands wring his hat tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself.” I take out the small tracking cookie and place it on the desk. My phone automatically connects to the signal when activated, so all I have to do is open the app and press a button and I’ll know where this tiny little chip is at all times. I push it toward him and then sit back and he takes it. “Tomorrow, when you take Allie wherever it is she asks to go this time, you place that in her bag.”

“Can’t you just put it there tonight?” His question is a valid one. I can. Or he can do it for me. Besides, if she empties that bag and finds out I’ve planted something in there, she’ll leave it behind.

“Do it. Then if she vanishes, just call me right away. It’s that simple.” I steeple my fingers across my stomach and he shrugs.

“Seems like an easy task, Sven. I don’t get it.” He sits straighter, some of the shame lifting from his tall, slender frame.

“Look, don’t question me. Dominic wants people vetted. I trust you. This is your task. Do it well and we’re on the up and up. Now get out. I have things to do.”

Tucker stands and jams his hat back on his head before exiting my office. With Red gone and my only option for information being Jimmy “The Fuck-up” Slater, I have been forced to dig deep. I need to call a friend down at the station, someone on Dad’s payroll I’d rather not deal with, but someone who can definitely help me. I don’t want rollers figuring out what I’m up to, but I have no choice.

I pull my phone out and dial his number, one saved into my phone by default as a contact in case I’m in trouble. The guy used to be a beat cop but he’s in anti-terrorism now and has access to some of the latest technology and police intel available. I just hate cops.

“Hello, this is Sergeant Monroe.” Even his voice grates on my nerves, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“Yeah, this is Gusev…” I let the name hit his ears for a few seconds before I continue. My name—my father’s name—carries weight that people pay attention to. Apparently not Allie, but I enjoy her innocence of the matter right now.

“Dominic, nice to hear from you.”

“Sven.” I’m abrupt and I know it. I don’t mess around with shit. “I need intel.”

“Uh, yes, sorry. Mr. Gusev, I apologize for the confusion.” I like how he squirms. It’s entertaining. I may not be the Pakhan but I have authority and being the shoe hovering above a roach is a good feeling.

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