Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(87)

His fingers curled around her chin, tilting her face up, his eyes drifting to the skin exposed there as her hair fell back over her shoulder.

“Should I apologize for that?”

Reaching for his hand, she moved it free from her neck but kept hold of it. “Apologize for what?”

Faster than she would have thought, he led her back into the house. Walking her to the hallway bathroom, he picked her up, setting her on the edge of the sink as his gaze swept over her. She might not have seen what had upset him about her neck, but she could clearly see the finger impressions on her inner thighs, the width of which fit his hands perfectly.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she explained, hoping to take away some of his worry, but her words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

He was careful as he traced the markings, seemingly hypnotized by them.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a second as she contemplated what he was thinking. He didn’t want to hurt her, she knew that for sure, and he could very well see this as hurting her.

Instead of pondering, though, she asked, “Luka, what are you thinking?”

Though he’d turned his face slightly away, she could just see his lips turn up. “Whether you’ll let me do this again.”

Luka finally looked at her when she shivered, his smile turning from amused to carnal.

“I can’t say I’ll always be gentle.”

And she wasn’t sure she wanted him to be.

“So is that what you did?” she asked uncertainly, playing with the ends of her hair as she looked past him. “When you were with Natasha, I mean. Is that—”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

No, she didn’t. But at the same time, she wanted to know the answer, not really the part about Natasha, but about how he handled stress. Whatever had gotten to him last night was obviously a big deal because she couldn’t remember a time when he had lost control that way.

He surprised her by answering with what she really wanted to know.

“Sometimes I’ll take a job that I know will get bloody, gives me another excuse to work it out. Other times, well you were there last night. Pain helps me focus.”

She frowned, her brows knitting together. “Pain? How did I cause you pain?”

He turned around and for the first time, she saw the deep scratches on his back, and she didn’t have to ask how they had gotten there, vaguely remembering digging her nails into him.

He smiled, a trace of dark humor in the expression. “You gave as good as you got.”

She would not blush.

“Are you okay now?”

“Better than that, love,” he said kissing her forehead. “Better than that.”





35

____





Natasha





Spring was in the air, the sweet floral scent of the flower shop next door combatting with the constant stench of exhaust that hung in the air. Natasha paid this no mind as she stashed the money she had earned from the past twenty-four hours into the black clutch she carried, stopping at the curb to hail a cab.

Ever since the Gilded Room had closed, Natasha had had to find work on her own, refusing to work a minimum wage job that wouldn’t support her lifestyle. The other girls she used to work with were different from her in that way. She didn’t like mediocre things. She much preferred the finer things often gifted when she did her job correctly.

It wasn’t a bad occupation, even if it wasn’t what she’d set out to do in her life. Her parents were immigrants. They had moved to America before she was born. They had worked hard to provide her with a good life, but that hadn’t really shown in the clothes she wore and the things in their home. At one time, Natasha had grown to resent them for not being able to accomplish the same things other families had after voyaging across the sea.

Of course, back then, she hadn’t known what else those families did to earn money. She only saw the result of it. From that point forward, she knew she wanted something more, something she didn’t possess, and all her life, she’d strived to find it.

Except, she hadn’t gone looking for the Bratva, the Bratva found her. The next thing she knew, she was working under those guys and making more than she had ever dreamed.

She had never looked twice at any of the men who considered themselves her ‘bosses,’ at least until she met Luka, and that was only after a client got a little out of hand. Natasha didn’t think she had ever really been attracted to violence before she met him, before she saw what he could do with his hands alone. Seeing him so effortlessly bring someone to the brink of death, only to hold back at the last second, allowing them to take another breath…she had wanted him badly after that.

But he wasn’t around much after that, at least until he was assigned to pretty much be their pimp. Then, it had been easy enough to convince him to get in her bed. He’d been reluctant—at least until she’d convinced him that it would be nothing more than the pair of them enjoying an hour together, no strings attached. Only then did he jump all over her. In the beginning, he’d constantly made sure she understood that it would never get any deeper between them. She had been okay with that too, but the more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to know about his life, and the more she wanted to be a permanent part of it.

And she was willing to wait for that to happen. She could be patient. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy to convince him that she was worth it, but that didn’t mean she had given up hope. It only meant she was in it for the long haul.