“Or we could fuck,” she says, bringing her body closer to mine, being sure to press her stomach against the bulge in my pants.
Focus.
“Yes. I like the way you think.” She gets on her toes to kiss me, but I pull back, leaving space between us. “Let me counter. We could fuck now, then go out to dinner, and that’s where we could have a conversation about our relationship.”
“Room service will be here in forty-five minutes.” She smiles as her lips brush against my neck. Everything is getting harder to hold together.
“Oh, thank God,” I add. “So, fuck now, food, conversation, and how about I go down on you while you’re watching the Amanda Chase concert?”
She pauses her kisses. “Um, it’s a long concert. I don’t think either one of us could last that long.”
“Agreed. How about after you’re thoroughly satisfied, I regale you with costume changes she’s made over the tour and my favorite theories about the lore?” My hands lace under her ass cheeks as I lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, bringing us eye level.
“You became a Chaser?” Her shocked and joyful expression is incredible, and my stomach flips. The loud anxieties I’ve battled are silenced, as the calming acknowledgment that this is all real gives me my first sense of peace since coming to America.
“Well, when the woman I love, my son, and the man who’s been a better brother to me than my own brother are all lifelong Chasers…” I shrug.
“See, this is why we work.” She kisses me. It’s soft and tender, then escalates into a fiery inferno. I step toward the bed and lay her down softly. “Don’t think I didn’t catch that you said you love me.”
I kiss her neck and whisper, “What makes you think I was talking about you?”
She laughs. “Wow, you do have a sense of humor.”
“Told you.”
My hands search her curves and she whispers, “I’m not wearing anything under this dress.”
Pulling her dress over her stomach, before I pull away to lick every drop of wetness she has, I say, “See, that’s why we work.”
“I’ve missed you,” she gasps as my tongue explores between her legs.
“Missed you too.”
Epilogue
Dimitri
It’s been a week since the kidnapping, and the Four Families have called a meeting. Katya stayed over last night, and this morning she made breakfast for Ian. We’re both getting used to the new official terms for Dad and Son, but he struggles with what he should call Katya. Titles are hard for him, but Mom might come sooner than later. Or it could be wishful thinking.
Uri spent the last week with his parents but is moving back in tonight. When I pick him up at their place, he throws his suitcase and a few gift bags in the back seat. “The one in the green bag is for Ian. Noise-canceling headphones for the nights Katya stays over,” he grumbles. “I got a pair for myself too.”
“What about the other one?”
“That’s for Alana,” he says and gazes out the window. He’s been quiet for the last week. I haven’t pressed him for a reason, he’ll open up when he’s ready. “This was all my fault.”
And apparently, he’s ready now.
“None of this is your fault. How could you have possibly known?”
“If I wasn’t so eager to go to the concert, Alana probably would’ve gone.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” He’s beating himself up way too much about this. “What’s going on?”
He’s quiet again, but after a minute, he confesses, “I slept with someone.”
“Was it Markus, a.k.a. Specs?” I’m getting to know the Mastodon staff now and all their little code names.
Uri jumps and almost launches himself out of the car. “What? No? Why? Um, why would you say that?”