Page 59 of Fate and Family

The other men look at me and blink a few times.

“She is. She’s better than all of us.” Donny sighs, “And that’s why we need to keep her out.”

I shrug. “It seems like the women in your families know how to get shit done. It’s stupid not to use them. Because when they do snap and step up, it will be colossal.”

Donny’s phone dings and he shares the new plan. Three hours later, The Octopus has made his debut on the rescue scene and is home in time to make sure there’s a snack for Ian on the counter when he gets home from school.

It kinda feels nice to have a purpose again.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Dimitri

I check my watch for the tenth time in a minute. I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen into a vortex where time stopped. The instructions were simple: wait until 4:32, walk to the elevator, push the up button, get off at the fourth floor, and go to room 432. She did it so it would be easy for me to remember. But it’s been 4:31 for like ten hours now.

4:32! Finally!

I stand in the elevator with a man in a polo drinking a beer out of a glass bottle, talking on the phone about short sales. There’s also a white-haired old lady who smells like flowers and cigarettes, and her purse is taking up half the room in the small space. She presses the button for the fourth floor just as I’m about to press it. I bounce on my toes, earning me glares from the polo guy.

Floor two, floor three. There’s an outrageously long pause for floor number four. The doors creak apart. The damn old lady steps in front of me and her body-bag-sized purse blocks me. Fuck, does she have to move so slow? The door closes on myshoulders when she moves and says, “I’m sorry dear, my knees aren’t what they used to be.”

Yes, getting old sucks, but at least you’ve lived long enough to complain about it. Right now, I just need Baba Yaga to take one step to the left so I can get past her. She swings and hits me with her purse one more time as I sidestep out of the elevator and down the hall.

It takes a second for me to get my bearings. Room 432 is on the left—great. Oh, for fuck’s sake. There’s five turns and a fucking minotaur I need to fight to get to the room. Minotaur, cleaning cart, whatever. It’s another obstacle in my way.

My heart beats in my ears, and my back is so hot I might’ve sweat through my shirt. My stomach tingles and gurgles, and I’m not sure what that means. And yes, I’ve had plenty of time to sort out my feelings for Katya, but there are so many unknowns.

My knuckles rap against the door. Was that too soft? Too loud? I strain to hear movement on the other side. Then there’s a gentle padding of feet against the floor. The door opens.

She’s stunning. A short black dress, classic and beautiful, her hair is up, exposing her long graceful neck. Is she wearing makeup? Her smile distracts me because I know ours are matching.

“Hi.” Katya steps back to let me into the room and launches herself into my arms as soon as the door locks behind us.

Her legs wrap around my waist as she kisses me, my hands firmly on her ass, lifting and protecting her.

“Did you want to talk for a few minutes?” I ask.

She blinks at me. “Dude, I haven’t had sex in nine months. Can we fuck first and talk later?”

Nine Months. Helsinki.

“Absolutely,” I say and add, “I haven’t touched anyone since you.” My lips brush against her neck.

She moans but stops short, looking me in the eye. “Um, you work in a sex club.” Well that kinda killed the moment, but only barely, more like it grazed the moment. I lower her until her toes touch the ground and she’s secure.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, but you’re the only one I want to be with.”

“Still, that must be rough.”

I laugh. “My wrist is fucking killing me.”

She tilts her head and smirks, yanks on my belt, and pushes my pants to my knees. “Let me take care of that for you.”

Her hand strokes my raging cock and I groan. She sinks to the floor and licks me from the base to the tip, moaning as she takes me in her mouth, so warm and wet. Each movement of her mouth sends me closer to the edge. I wrap my fingers through her hair, guiding her along the way. She looks up at me with adoring but watery eyes.

“God, you’re so amazing,” I mumble as I slowly lift her to her feet.

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