“Get. Her. Here. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
So help me fuckin’ God, this isn’t going to end well.
She betrayed me. Fucking betrayed me.
She will pay.
Jess
“Jess!”
Luke is pounding on my door. I sigh, wondering why the hell he’s suddenly so desperate to get to me. I’ve just finished a shower and was looking forward to lying in bed and getting some sleep. With a growl, I walk over and swing it open. He’s staring at me, his eyes hard. There’s something behind them—I can’t pinpoint what it is but it’s not a happy look.
I’ve gotten to know Luke a little better since I’ve been here, and there are times, although occasional, when he actually smiles at me. Now, he looks as though he wants to rip my head off. I really don’t understand why. Was I supposed to let him in? Is he angry about having to stand outside until Dimi gets back? I put my hand up on the doorframe and stare right back at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Time to go. Now.”
I shake my head, sure I’ve heard him wrong. “What?”
“You heard me,” he barks. “It’s time to go. Let’s move.”
He reaches out and takes my hand, tugging me. “Wait!” I cry. “Let me get changed.”
He lets me go and growls, “Hurry up.”
I turn and quickly change back into my clothes and then I throw my hair up into a ponytail before rushing back to the door.
“Why the hurry?” I ask as Luke takes my arm again, pulling me out.
“I’ll let the boss speak to you.”
I shake my head and let him pull me down to a waiting car. He opens the door and I get into the back quickly, pulling on my seatbelt. Luke walks around after slamming my door loudly, and jumps into the passenger seat. A man I don’t know is driving. I cross my arms and stare out of the window, not quite sure what to make of the sudden outburst. I decide, until I can speak to Dimitri, there’s no point in saying anything. So, I sit back and stay silent until we pull up at Dimitri’s house.
I’m surprised we’ve come here, and even more so that Dimitri didn’t come and get me, or even call. When the car comes to a stop, I climb out and walk up to the front door. Luke catches up in a mere second, and I can feel his presence behind me. God, why is he so close? Is there any need for that? I pick up my pace and head into the main living area.
Dimitri is standing by the window. His fists are down by his side and he seems to be panting. Is he angry at me? Luke clears his throat and I watch as Dimi turns and pins me with his scathing glare. He’s angry, I was right . . . I just don’t know what he’s angry about. Luke turns and walks out of the room, leaving me alone with him. I warily take a step forward, unsure what the hell is going on.
“Who got your room for you tonight?” Dimitri growls, his voice low and throaty.
I shake my head. “I did, I told you that.”
Suddenly his fist flies out and smashes into a nearby lamp. It soars off the table and smashes onto the floor. I flinch and take a step back.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” he roars, storming toward me. “I know, Jessica. I know.”
I swallow and try hard to steady my breathing. “I don’t know what—”
“Enough!” he bellows. “I know Hendrix was with you tonight. Did you think I was fucking stupid?”
He’s panting. His jaw is tight. His body is rigid. He’s wild. No, he’s gone beyond wild. He’s lost it, completely. I wrap my arms around myself, struggling for a decent answer. I don’t know what I can say to him. He’ll never believe that I basically begged Hendrix not to hurt him.
“I saw him,” I whisper. “Yes.”
“You fucking lied to me!” he bellows. “Not only that, you betrayed me. I trusted you.”
“No you didn’t,” I suddenly cry, feeling my skin prickle all over. “You never fucking trusted me, Dimi. Not for a second.”
“Did I give you a phone?”
“A phone you were going to take off me the moment you finished your fight. The only reason I got in that cab is because I was running from you, because you betrayed me.”
His face turns stony. “You let him in and you played me like a fucking fool.”
“The only person playing you like a fool, Dimitri,” I tell him, “is you. You’re living so much in the past that you can’t pull your head out of your ass and see the future.”
He stiffens and his back goes ramrod straight. “My business is just that, mine! It was never yours.”
“Then why the hell did you take me? You made it my business the day you took me from my family and used me as a pawn in your sick games. When did you ever think I would change my mind about Hendrix? Did you truly believe I would bring him to you? Or that I’d stop fighting to make sure you didn’t hurt him?”
“What I thought,” he grinds out, “is that you understood!”
“I do understand,” I yell, my voice shaking. “I understand your need to close something, I understand your need to feel okay again. I understand how it feels, but what I don’t understand is the need to ruin someone’s life, and not just one person, but two. You’re taking away from Indi if you hurt him. She’s a gentle, beautiful girl and she loves him. You haven’t stopped to think, if you take him from her you’ll be no better than he is.”
He jerks and his breathing deepens. “You. Know. Nothing. About. Me.”
“I know more than you think!” I scream, shaking my hands. “I know what happened to you, Dimitri.”
“No!” he roars. “What you know is what he told you. Did he tell you what they did to me?”
“They beat you, I know, and I’m sorry but—”
“They fucking raped me!” he bellows, slamming his fist into the wall, splitting it wide open. Blood pours from the wound. “They held me down and one by one they fucking raped me. I was fifteen. There were ten of them. You know fucking nothing about me.”
I flinch and gasp. I knew Dimitri had had a hard time, I knew he’d got beaten and I thought there might have been some sort of sexual assault but ten men? I’d had no idea. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. My hands tremble and I press one to my throat, trying to breathe. Dimitri is staring at me, his entire body shaking. He’s ready to rip someone apart. That someone is likely to be me.
“I . . . I . . .”
“You’ve got nothing,” he growls, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing you can say can make it better. It’s his fault it happened and it’s his fault I stayed there and had to deal with it.”
“You’re wrong about that,” I say, my voice cracking. “The reason it happened is because of your mom—”
“Don’t you ever fucking speak about my mother!”
“I don’t mean to insult your mother, Dimitri,” I say very carefully and very gently. “But have you ever stopped, even for a second, and thought about why Hendrix ran? He married her at a young age; she was tangled up in some seriously bad shit. He ended up having to take the law out onto the ocean so he could deal with the problems she had created. He had no choice—her life and yours were in danger. Then he found out you had been beaten and . . . h-h-h—”
“Raped,” he snarls. “Fucking raped. Say it.”
I swallow, unable to answer him. So I continue, “He found out you had been beaten and he found out the problems weren’t going to go away. Soon it would have got worse. Soon she would have put you in the position where you would have been killed. He had someone take her out and the bad men around you, too. When he went to the hospital, you’d heard of your mother’s death and you didn’t know the full story. You hated him. Despised him. That’s not to say he shouldn’t have stayed and fought, because he should have, but he did everything he did because he loved you.”
He’s staring at me, just staring. There’s no expression on his face. I expect him to abuse me, to tell me I’m a liar and I’m wrong, but he doesn’t. Instead he walks straight past me and disappears from the room. I exhale lo
udly and lower to my knees, wrapping my arms around myself. God, what have I done? I’ve hurt him. I’ve ruined every tiny piece of a relationship we’d managed to create.
How am I going to fix this?
I wait for half an hour, then another. He doesn’t come back. I slowly walk from the room and head to the bedroom he made me stay in when I first got here. The halls are empty, and no one seems to be around. I’m just about to enter my room when I hear the sound of water running. I turn my focus to what I know is Dimitri’s room. My heart burns and I find myself turning toward the sound.
He might hate me but I need to know he’s okay.
I open the door quietly and peer into the room. I see the light coming from under the door to his bathroom. I hesitate, knowing I should really just turn back. I can’t, though. I have to check on him. It’s my fault he’s in there. It’s my fault he’s broken. I let him down, there’s no excuse for that. I reach the bathroom door and take the handle, swallowing down the anxiety rising in my chest.
I shove the door open softly and step in. I’m faced with a cloud of steam. I feel it stick to my skin as I step in farther. I draw closer to the shower and see Dimitri standing in it. My heart breaks in two. He has his back to me, and he’s completely, beautifully naked. His arms are crossed and pressed on the wall in front of him, and his head is hanging between them.
I take the biggest risk I’ve ever taken in my life to date.
I strip off and I step into the shower. I reach out with trembling fingers and touch his shoulder. He flinches, but not enough. He knew I was there. Slowly he turns, and I feel my knees buckle with pure agony when I see his face. He’s got red, glassy eyes and he looks grief-stricken. He’s shed a few tears. Not a lot, but a few. For a man like Dimitri, that is a massive thing.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
What else is there to say?
His eyes scan my face and I watch as a tear escapes from the corner of his eye. I reach up and catch it before it blends with the water coursing down to drip off his chin, and his eyes follow my fingers. I lift them and cup his cheek. He closes his eyes, almost as though he’s in pain, but he allows me to keep my hand there.
“I made a mistake,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, Dimi. I didn’t know how your life has been, but I should have told you I saw Hendrix. I will tell you where he is, I’ll let you do this your way, but I need you to understand something first. I need you to really, really think about what I am saying. To you, Hendrix is a monster. To me, Dimi, he’s the only family I have. He saved my life. He gave me a second chance. He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to let me find my sunshine. I know he let you down and for that, I’m truly sorry. But it was never up to him to be the one that made sure you were okay. It was up to your momma, and she failed. You can hate him—I couldn’t and wouldn’t ask you to change who you are for me. But I can’t . . . I can’t stand by and watch you hurt the only family I have left. I love him, Dimi. Not in the way I’m learning to love you. No, I love him in the way everyone should love their family. So, if you want to know where he is, I’ll tell you. But I can’t stand by and watch you take the only thing I have left.”
I turn once I’m finished, and I lift a fist and shove a tear from my cheek. I’m just about to step out of the shower when Dimitri’s hand lashes out and he jerks me back. I spin around and face him, my vision blurred with my tears. His finger raises up and he swipes them from my cheek. Then he moves his hands to cup my face. He’s never touched me so gently, never looked at me with such . . . passion. Slowly, as if the world has stopped turning and it’s only the two of us in it, he leans down and presses his lips to mine.
And he kisses me.
He doesn’t kiss me like he’s kissed me before. He kisses me like I’m the last breath he’ll ever take. He kisses me like I’m the only reason he wakes up every day. He kisses me like I matter. His hands move from my cheeks and slide down my neck, causing little shivers to break out all over my body. When they reach my shoulders, he uses them to bring me closer, pressing my naked body to his.
I can feel him there, ready for me.
I want him, but not here. Right now, I just want this to be about him. I want him to know that all I care about in this moment is him. I reach up and gently take his shoulders, using them to push us back apart. He looks confused as I slowly spin him around to face the wall again. I step up close, pressing my chest to his back. He shivers. I reach around and place my hands on his belly, stroking my fingers up and down.
“It’s not about me, Dimi,” I say softly. “It’s about you. Let me touch you. Know that I would never, ever hurt you.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move either. He lets me move my hands down his abs, running my fingertips over the hard ridges there. When I reach his pelvis, I hesitate. I want to touch him, but once I do, there’s no going back. I’m committing myself to someone like him and someone like him isn’t easy. He’s damaged and moody and completely fucked up.
But he’s also beautiful, loving, and kind.
In a sense, if we go to the basics, he’s just like me.
And I’m completely okay with that.
So I keep going. I lower my hands until they graze over his cock. The nerves in my stomach are making me sick, but I keep telling myself that this is what I want. It’s not forced. It’s not a choice made for me. This is something we both want and need. I reach out and curl my fingers around his cock, feeling the thick, hard length jerk in my grip.
My legs wobble.
I close my eyes and press my cheek to his back as I begin to gently stroke up and down. I can feel his rumble of pleasure radiate through my cheek. I break into tiny little shivers and I tighten my grip, feeling him stiffen as I put pressure on his cock and then release it seconds later. Then I take my thumb and I run it over the tip. The skin is soft and smooth. I never would have imagined I could find this . . . beautiful.
“Jess,” he rasps.
“Shhh,” I soothe, gently picking up my pace.
My hand runs up and down his length, stopping occasionally to give his head attention. His entire body is stiff and he’s panting with every stroke I make. He’s making little noises and every now and then he murmurs my name. I hear him say “Baby” before I feel his cock swell in my hand. Seconds later, I feel hot spurts of arousal hit my hand and get washed away with water.
His groans continue and his head drops back, tickling my cheeks with his long, thick hair. His hands hit the wall with another garbled grunt and he jerks his cock harder into my hand. My entire body swells with want. I need him. I want to let him in. I want to feel what it’s like to have a man like Dimitri surrounding me.
I need it like I need air.
It’s finally time.
Time to let myself go.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dimitri
She’s so fucking beautiful. I want her more than I want air. I should hate her, should feel that rage burning in my chest, but the only thing burning is my need to taste her, to be inside her, to have her surrounding me. Especially when she’s watching me with those big, green eyes. I know she feels guilty, and a big part of me thinks that’s exactly what she should feel, but a bigger part, the part I’m just discovering again, tells me she is the best thing that could ever happen to me.
My mind is spinning with this influx of new emotions. I’m not used to feeling anything but a soul-crushing need for revenge. Hearing her spill the truth ripped me to shreds. I don’t know if she’s just saying what she thinks I want to hear, but it tugged at something inside me. It cracked my wall, just slightly. Now I don’t know what to do. How am I supposed to give up the only thing that seems to keep me stable and calm?
“Come here,” I murmur as I back toward the bed.
I don’t know what my next move is, but tonight, right here with her, I know exactly what I need. And by the look on her face, she needs it as much. I keep my eyes locked on hers as she takes a nervous step toward me. I extend my han
d and she timidly places one of hers in mine. Jess is always so determined and funny, but she looks like she’s about to throw up. I know how scary it is for her. I remember the first time I took the leap and gave myself to someone.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, studying my face.
“About the first time I had sex after . . .” I trail off. I hate that word. Fucking hate it.
Jess’s eyes soften. “Tell me about it.”
She sits on the bed and I drop down beside her.
“Not sure it’s going to give you a great deal of confidence, baby,” I murmur, making tiny circles on her palm with my fingertip.
“I want to know anyway.”
I focus on her hand as I speak. I’ve never told anyone this story, and I’m certainly not about to share it with anyone else but her. It’s not something I’m proud of.
“I was seventeen. I was at the peak of my fucked up-ness.”
She smiles at my use of her word, and I can’t help but grin back.
“I met this girl at a club one night. She was blond, pretty, ready for a fuck. I was underage but she didn’t know. A bunch of us had managed to sneak into the club. I was a good size for my age. I didn’t look seventeen. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I danced with her, drank with her and somehow found myself back at her hotel room. I was so drunk I didn’t think it would matter. I thought I wouldn’t remember. We began messing around and I seemed to be taking it well, so we went further. Mid-way through, she was riding me when I realized what was really happening. Memories started flashing in my head and I freaked out. It was like I blacked out and forgot where I was and who I was with. I came about to see that I was shaking her. My hands were on her shoulders and I was shaking the absolute shit out of her. It was fucked up. After that, it took a long time to get into it. I didn’t trust anyone and then—”
“Then?” she asks, cutting me off.
“Then I met Macy.”
I see the way her face flashes. She’s jealous.
“Who’s Macy?”
“I was with her for about two years. From nineteen to twenty-one. She was the first person to break through my barrier. She taught me to . . .” I stare at her, noticing her cheeks are pink, so I pick my words carefully, “To . . . be with a woman.”