My core quivered around his semihard shaft.
A low laugh. “You can’t hide that, can you? What are we going to do about this?” He’d said nothing about his own feelings.
I swallowed. “Get through this weekend?”
“Then we’ll have a long talk. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Wait, what was I agreeing to? My head was still in the clouds.
“This is going to pain me, but I suppose we can’t be late for the festivities.” With another groan, he pulled out.
A shock of cold hit my pussy and ass. “Oh! Oh!” His damp dick must be freezing, but he sweetly tugged my ski pants and thong up before tucking himself back in.
He gave me a swat on my ass. I swatted his in return. He helped me into the saddle, mounting behind me. When his arms wrapped around me again, I lazed back, sighing in contentment. “Me podría acostumbrar a tí.” I could get used to you.
“This is why I’m in such a hurry to learn your language. You speak Spanish in my ear during and after sex.”
And he spoke maddening Russian.
“Even when you sleep, you murmur in Spanish.”
I talked in my sleep? Mierda! “You’re learning too fast. I’ll have no secrets before long.”
“That’s the plan.”
I bit my lip, feeling like a countdown clock had started. Again, I thought, What if I trusted Máxim? Maybe I wouldn’t be calling Edward down upon me. Maybe I needed to recognize a superstition for what it was.
Might it finally be time for me to recruit a teammate? A partner? Could any man be more qualified than Máxim to take on Edward?
By the time we’d reached the stable, I began to relax again. I didn’t have to decide anything for two days, and I was determined to enjoy this man, this place.
After we’d returned Chestnut, we walked back to the lodge hand in hand. As we approached the entrance, he said, “In case those farmers are still hanging around, I’ll show them who you’re fucking.” He grabbed me, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me inside.
I was squealing with laughter, pounding my mittens on his back, when I heard a man say, “Maksimilian?”
CHAPTER 28
With a laugh, Máxim turned, which put my ass—in tights—on display. “Ah, Aleksandr.”
His brother? “Down, Ruso!”
He let me slide down him, then pulled me around with my back to his front. He draped his arms over me, possessiveness in full force.
Aleksandr was as tall as Máxim and had similar features, that strong jaw and chin, the proud nose and broad cheekbones—though Aleksandr’s eyes were amber to Máxim’s blue. And Aleksandr had tattoos on his fingers and closer-cut hair. Definitely rougher around the edges than Máxim.
Aleksandr stared at his brother as if he didn’t recognize him. “You look . . . changed.”
Máxim’s hair was ruffled, his skin tanned, his bright blue eyes hooded with relaxation. He appeared younger and was grinning—an authentic smile. His brother’s shock clearly amused him.
Yet I could detect currents of strain between them, as if Aleksandr remained on guard.
“You brought a date.” Aleksandr turned his attention to me. I must have looked like I’d just gotten jackhammered in a covered bridge.
“Katya, this is my brother Aleksandr. Bratan, this is my woman, Cat Marín.” There was an undertone of say something, I dare you to his words.
“It’s a pleasure, Aleksandr,” I said. “I can’t wait to meet your bride.”
The man frowned down at me. “You’re from Miami?”
Máxim laughed. “Yes, this is the girl I held prisoner. But as you can see, she’s an overjoyed guest here. Aren’t you?” He squeezed me.
“I’m here to keep Máxim in line. There’ll be no mischief while I’m on watch, or I’ll kick his Russian ass.”
That got Máxim to laugh, while Aleksandr just looked baffled. Finally he said, “Natalie is going to like you very well. And please call me Aleks.”
After another couple of stilted exchanges, Máxim and I started back to our room.
As we made our way up the stairs, I asked him, “Why was he so shocked?”
“He’s never seen me like this.”
“Happy?”
Máxim paused on a step, seeming as shocked as Aleks had just been. “Happy,” he repeated, as if he were turning the word over in his mind, tasting it. “I suppose I am.”
“You enjoyed his surprise. It amused you. Is my presence here solely to screw with people?”
“Though I was perversely pleased by Aleksandr’s surprise, I brought you here because I want you with me. Simple as that.” He leaned down to say, “And already, you’re glad you came. In both senses of the word.”
I was attending a Nebraskan dinner in a countryside lodge as the date of a Russian mafiya sex god. What exactly did one wear to an occasion like that? I hoped I’d picked the right outfit.
My simple black pencil skirt accentuated my ass without being too tight. But my copper-colored blouse was a work of art. It was a cold-shoulder design with a scoop neck and long blouson sleeves that were cut out to reveal my arms from my shoulders to my elbows. The back dipped low, almost to my racy new bra, and was held in place by a string (which I hoped Máxim would spend all night thinking about untying). My black, strappy heels were high—because of my date’s height.