Page 7 of Her Russian Master
She’d been hoping for Yuri, but Tommy was up first, making an impatient sound in his throat as he pulled out a knife.He slashed her bound arms free from the chair, making her scream at how close he came to cutting her skin with the knife.
He pulled her to her feet roughly and hauled her into the bedroom, where the bathroom was.Butterflies winged around in her chest but she forced herself to be calm, saying a silent prayer that some golden opportunity might present itself.
In the bathroom, he refused to leave or shut the door.Determined not to show intimidation, she lifted her chin as she attempted to pull up her skirt with her taped wrists and somehow shimmy her panties down enough to sit on the toilet.
He didn’t offer any help—not that she wanted it.
She peed.Then she sat there, stalling for time.
“Let’s go,” Tommy growled.
“I have to poo,” she said with exaggerated innocence.
His eyes narrowed.“Bullshit,” he said, but he didn’t move to pull her off, because, yeah.Who wanted to make that mistake?
She pretended to strain and nodded at him.
He rolled his eyes and backed out of the bathroom, standing in the open doorway.
Okay.Time bought.Now what?His gun was strapped on his back, not in his hand.She didn’t know how much more time that gave her—one or two more seconds, maybe?So when the room service guy came, she could try to shove the door into him and run past, screaming her lungs out.
Ugh.God.Was that really the best she could come up with?
Tommy drummed his fingers against the wooden door.“Come on, let’s hurry up.”
“Not done yet,” she sang out sweetly.
He blew out his breath across his lips, making apshawsound.
A tap sounded on the door of the suite.
She bolted off the toilet.When Tommy also lurched toward her, she turned her back, pretending to fuss about toilet paper but actually using her legs to shove the panties off and over her strappy sandals before they hindered her flight.
She waited until he came close.Then she clocked him in the nose with her forehead.
He bellowed in pain as she rushed past, through the bedroom, toward the door to the hallway.
Yuri leaped like a freaking billy goat, launching one foot off the double bed to land the next on the second bed, and then drop right in front of her.
She slammed into the solid wall of muscle that made up his body.
His hand clapped over her mouth before she’d even drawn a breath to scream for help.
“Don’t make a fucking sound, Lucya.”He growled her name with an extra syllable, pronouncing itLu-see-ya.His head bent toward hers and despite the threat, the position was intimate, the same way he’d spoken to her in the club.It was sexy and seductive and threatening all at once.
Her heart rattled hard against her ribs.
For a moment, no one moved.Yuri listened to the conversation with the bellboy in the other room, Tommy stifled his groan from the bathroom door.
As soon as the door in the living room suite shut, Tommy came barreling toward her.“I am going to fuck that bitch up.”
Yuri released her mouth and gave her a slight push away, toward Tommy, but he said, “No.”He released his belt buckle and pulled the length of leather out from his loops in a whoosh.“I will punish her.”He whapped the end of the belt in his palm, making her jump.
She glanced from the furious, bleeding Tommy to the tattooed Russian coiling his belt around his fist and swallowed, fear turning her entire body cold.
Yuri didn’t wait for Tommy’s agreement but shoved her face down over the side of the bed, yanking up her skirt.
“Where.Are.Your.Panties?”Yuri sounded pissed.
