Dirty Love (The Lion and The Mouse Book 2) Read online

  I pulled out and lay next to her. “Are we ever going to get any sleep?”

  “I’m hoping for a few hours.” She turned her body my way.

  I pulled her in. “We’ll see.”

  So much had happened, and even more was bound to come. But tonight had showed me that no matter what, Emily and I were in this world together.

  And together, we’d destroy anyone in our way.

  She yawned. “We need to use condoms.”

  We’ll see.

  I closed my eyes and wondered what a future could look like between us. Would it be filled with blood or better and safer than we’d ever imagined?

  No. Stay in the present. The future hasn’t even been written.

  Fifteen

  Maxwell

  Valentina didn’t want to leave until the club closed. We danced all night and drank even more. Oleg frowned the whole time, but at least he didn’t scowl. We were the last ones to leave, and when we stepped outside, the sun shined in our faces.

  Oleg took us to the Four Seasons. Apparently, we wouldn’t be at the castle anymore, and I was happy about it.

  Valentina was drunk, singing in a foreign language. I didn’t know what the words were, but they sucked.

  Oleg and I left the car. Valentina remained singing and clapping to herself.

  Oleg seemed pissed about something. When he handed the car keys to the valet, he glanced over his shoulder. “Take her to her room.”

  “Which one’s her room?”

  Oleg left.

  “Yo!” I called after him.

  He escaped into the sliding doors, leaving me with one of the most powerful women in the country. With the way they treated Em’s Russian at the club, I didn’t want to get in his way. Being this was his sister, I would make sure she got to where she needed, regardless of her bodyguard’s attitude.

  If something happened other and I could’ve avoided it, then that would be my ass.

  I grabbed her bag and went around to the passenger side, opening the door to help her out.

  With sweet little eyes, she gazed up. “Can you carry me?”

  “No.”

  “Please.” She pouted.

  Every part of me yearned to touch her. Carrying that curvy frame would guarantee a lot of touching.

  I whispered, “Fine.”

  She slowly rose and let me scoop her in my arms. Valentina shivered at the chill of the wind, and then she began singing the song again.

  I laughed.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are.”

  I carried her through the Four Seasons’ sliding door. Some royal blue uniformed guy rushed to me and handed keys. “Mr. Maxwell, the room is on the tenth floor. The number is 1009.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  The guy pointed at Oleg disappearing into an elevator.

  “Okay.” I grabbed the room key and headed that way.

  The guy followed along. “And your room is 1010, sir.”

  “Thanks.” I got that too, finding it difficult as I kept my hold onto Valentina.

  Her voice rose with the lyrics.

  “Oh my God.” I shook my head as I got into my elevator.

  “What?” she asked. “You don’t love my singing?”

  “It’s not that you can’t sing, Valentina. It’s that you should never sing again.”

  She frowned. “No one’s every said that.”

  “Because they’re afraid your brother will kill them.”

  “I could kill them myself.”

  “That’s the other reason.” I pressed the button for the tenth floor and let her down.

  She pouted.

  “That pouting shit doesn’t work on me. I’m from NY, baby.”

  She pounded her chest. “I’m from Harlem. The baddest place in the world. Well, Maxwell, let me take you to the cold parts of Siberia one day.”

  “Good point.”

  “And the pouting does work on you.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  We arrived at the tenth floor. For some reason, I decided to lift her back up and carry her down the long hall. This time, she didn’t sing, but she stared at me, and it made my cock ache.

  We entered her room. It was immaculate. Everything I figured someone would get for a spoiled princess like herself. After checking out her plane, I expected nothing less.

  “Are you sleepy?” I gazed down at her.

  “Yes.” But, she didn’t look sleepy. Lust filled her eyes. “Take me to my room.”

  “You want me to take you to your bed?”

  “You know I do.” She licked her lips.

  “I told you not to play with me, Valentina.”

  “I’m not playing.”

  “You are.”

  Still…

  We hit her room.

  My dick is going to get me in trouble tonight. I could already see my fucking obituary: “Maxwell, brother to Emily, died in a Four Seasons hotel suite with his dick dangling outside his pants.”

  Cursing myself, I lay her down and turned on the bedside lamp. She let out a deep breath as she snuggled into the covers. “And will I get a story before you put me to sleep?”

  I sat down next to her. “That’s what you want? You want a story?”

  “No.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “What do you want, Valentina?”

  “You’re the one that wants to hear my moan.”

  “But you’re the one that wants me to make you moan.”

  She batted her lids and spoke with that thick, sexy accent. “How could I not, Maxwell? You are a very sexy man.”

  I gave her dress a tug and it did nothing at all.

  Her voice went low. “Tear it off.”

  Wild lust roared through me.

  Smiling, I ripped the dress off.

  Yep. This is stupid, but…let me just smell the pussy one more time.

  I grabbed the top of the dress and tore it away. She gasped as the material easily came apart in my hands, leaving her naked. Her breasts popped out, pale white with rosy nipples jiggling at the top. She wore no bra or panties. I threw the dress behind me, not caring where it landed. The thought of her being this bare around me the whole time drove me crazy.

  She licked her lips.

  The movement drove me to the edge, pushing insanity through my blood. Now, I didn’t just want to fuck her. I yearned to rub every part of me all over her.

  I whispered, “Open your legs.”

  She did like a good girl. My dick grew to attention, pushing against my jeans. Moonlight slipped into the window and glowed on those spread folds. I needed to get her under the covers and asleep before I had her legs over my shoulders, with my cock in between them.

  “That’s a pretty pussy.” I bit my lip, wanting to bite into her flesh.

  She twisted her lips. “Is pussy ever pretty?”

  “Only a person with a pussy would ask that. To most men, any pussy can be beautiful at the right moment and time.”

  “And is this the right moment and time?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “But you want to hear me moan?”

  I did. Desire for her burned in every inch of my body. But I also didn’t know what part she played tonight. Although the pussy looked beautiful, it could be a trap to keep me distracted from the most obvious fact—she was trying to kill Em’s Russian.

  If she was an enemy to the Russian, she was an enemy to me.

  And no matter how sweet the pussy smelled or how delicious it looked, I wouldn’t go there unless I had my reasonable confirmations.

  She raised a blonde eyebrow. “You don’t want me?”

  “I do, but you come with complications.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a dead ballerina.”

  “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. You just heard a radio channel—”

/>   “And Misha ran in the club with bloody ballerina slippers.”

  “That’s a coincidence.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She closed her legs and frowned.

  I hated that she did that. The sight was breathtaking. And I knew the truth. It wasn’t about the sweet look of her pussy. It was her. Everything about Valentina excited me. She was a curvy woman that held the reins of a huge empire. Regardless of her games and batting eyelashes, she made me hungry to taste her.

  If only I’d met you another way.

  She touched my face and then ran her hands down my chest. “I want you, Maxwell.”

  I leaned into her hand, liking her touch. “Why?”

  She trailed my chest with her fingers, following the lines of my tattoos. When she got to the top of my pants, she gripped them. My cock jerked.

  “I want to see how big that cock is.”

  “You can see now.”

  “Can I?” She ran her hand over my chest and brought it down to the growing bulge in my lap.

  A hot throbbing vibrated through me. “Take it out.”

  “Take off your shirt…first.”

  Reaching over my head, I grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled it up and off, giving her what she asked for.

  She sharply inhaled.

  I slung the shirt on the floor. “This is stupid.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not going to fuck you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think you might be my enemy.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You could be.”

  “But even if I was…doesn’t fucking your enemy feel so good?”

  “I don’t know, Valentina.” I licked my lips. “I’ve never fucked my enemy.”

  “You should try it some time.” She pushed her body up against me, her naked chest hitting mine. Her soft curves melted against my hard muscle.

  “Fuck, Valentina.” I brushed my lips against her forehead.

  “Yes, fuck.” Reaching up, she locked her arms around my neck. “Come on. Our secret.”

  Those words caused my restraint to explode. In the moment, I could no longer remember why I didn’t want to stick my dick inside of her. Suddenly, while I was erect, all rationality seemed stupid as fuck.

  Basically, my cock screamed, “Y.O.L.O., Max!”

  I grabbed her face with my hands, thinking about what my dick was trying to tell me.

  Yeah. You’re right. You only live once.

  I tasted her mouth. She moved against me more. Her sweetness hit my lips, and the taste of her reminded me of how desperate I’d been to be touched by anyone. Em had me busy. Darryl had me busy. Even Xavier sometimes had me busy.

  But this night, this moment, it was all about me.

  And I craved Valentina, ever since the first time she woke me up in Harlem, batting her eyes and forcing me to wear some over-priced designer shit.

  Damn it. Em is going to kill me for doing this. Let’s hope the Russian doesn’t help her.

  I kissed her, drinking her in. Not taking sips but pulling in gulps. I felt like I’d been starving, drying in some basement, chained up for weeks. Desperate for human contact. In need of someone’s touch. Kiss. Hug. Pussy. God, I’d been in need of pussy.

  And so, I drank from her, and one sip didn’t satisfy my urge to be inside of her. It just drove me even more crazy. Our lips slipped against the other. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, and she tried to devour it. I never knew lips could be so soft. So warm. So yielding. She trembled against me and I wanted to warm her up. Make her scream my name.

  I pulled back from her a little, so I’d have room to slide one of my hands between her creamy thighs. I went straight for that throbbing bud. She raised her hips.

  Moaning, her pussy soaked my fingers.

  “Damn.” Dropping my head down to one of her breasts, I sucked in a nipple into my mouth. I rubbed that moist lush place, stroking and caressing. Her body jerked against mine. And although my cock was still in my pants, pre-cum leaked out the tip.

  Chill. Chill.

  I dragged myself away.

  Goddamn it. I’m already coming in my pants. No, man.

  I let go of her face and rose from the bed.

  Shocked, she mumbled something in Russian.

  I found my shirt and picked it up. “Speak English.”

  “Fuck me!”

  I paused from getting ready to put on my shirt. “Are you a friend or foe, Valentina?”

  “What?”

  “Did you have anything to do with my uncle or yours getting shot tonight?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then, what did you do?” I asked.

  “None of your business.”

  I put my shit on. “I covered for you.”

  “And you will continue to.” She sat up. “You tore my dress off. You are going to fuck me tonight.”

  “What did you do, when you left the castle? Did you even leave it? Is there something up with the ballerina or is it something else?”

  She glared at me. “Just get naked and fuck me.”

  “Friend or foe?”

  “That’s a stupid question to ask. Kazimir is my brother. If you’re his friend, then I’m your friend.”

  “I actually haven’t decided, if he’s my friend yet.” Shrugging, I walked off.

  She called out to me. “Maxwell, are you serious?”

  Am I?

  My dick was surely pissed. It weighed heavy as I rushed out of there.

  “Maxwell!”

  I hurried before I raced back in there and fucked her.

  But when I opened the door, someone stood there, scaring the fuck out of me.

  Valentina yelled from behind. “Maxwell! Fuck me!”

  Em’s Russian glared.

  “Maxwell, please!” she called out again.

  I left her suite and closed the door behind me.

  The Russian studied my clothes, probably spotting the wrinkled shirt and pants.

  Valentina’s voice traveled through the door. “Maxwell!”

  I held my hands out. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

  “Apparently.” He walked off, heading toward the elevator.

  I checked my watch. “Fuck.”

  “I told you six.”

  “Yeah.” I yawned. “Your sister didn’t want to leave.”

  “She never does. That’s why I don’t club with her anymore.”

  Several of his men stood by the elevator. One kept the doors open with his foot.

  The Russian wasn’t big on words, so I assumed I should follow.

  We got on. I stood to his right and looked at him. “Have you heard anything about Xavier?”

  The elevator doors closed. He continued to look at them as we lowered. “Yes. He didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”

  I dug my hands into my pockets and held back the pain. “What happened to the two guys we caught?”

  “They’re dead.”

  “And the other one?”

  “He’ll be dead soon.”

  “And what will you do about Sasha?”

  “Make a list, Maxwell.” The Russian turned my way. “Anyone you want will be gone.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I owe you.”

  “Because of Xavier?”

  “Because of everything.” The Russian faced the elevator doors again. “But anybody that had something to do with Xavier’s death, you’ll get first hand at them.”

  “Thank you.”

  I forced all sorrow away. Now was not the time to cry or even think about the loss that would come from Xavier’s death. I couldn’t let it out. The Russian and his men would not be there to comfort me.

  “Em knows?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How is she?”

  “Sleeping for now.”

  I nodded. “Keep her busy. If she’s not, there will be more bodies.”

  “I’m starting to see that.”

  The elevator doors
opened.

  We stepped out.

  Several uniformed men stood on the outside. They stepped forward and greeted the Russian, speaking Czech. After an uncomfortable exchange, they let us in.

  “I need your help.” The Russian moved the police tape in front of the suite’s entrance. “My ex was killed here. I don’t know if you’ve heard of a ballerina named—”

  “Olesya Pavlova?”

  “How did you know her name?”

  “We heard the news report when we were riding with your sister.”

  “What was her reaction?”

  The question made me uneasy. “What is all of this about?”

  The Russian grinned. “You’re trying to protect her?”

  “Who? Em? No.”

  The Russian shook his head. “No, you’re trying to protect Valentina.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You avoid questions, when you’re being protective.” He tilted his head to the side. “What was Valentina’s reaction to the news?”

  “She didn’t appear sad or anything. She did try to switch the channel.”

  “Why didn’t she?”

  “Oleg smacked her hand away.”

  The Russian raised one eyebrow. “Interesting. Why do you think he did that?”

  “Because…I think Oleg let her do something…and realized that—”

  “Valentina had got him in a lot of trouble?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Lucky for both of them, I don’t have any feelings for Olesya, although I didn’t think she had to die. She had a career and promising future ahead of her.”

  “The news report said she was at your uncle’s party. Was she?”

  “Yes. I didn’t see her, but I’d heard that Uncle Igor’s men dragged her out it for yelling at Valentina and Em.”

  “What did she say to Em?” I asked.

  “She asked Em, ‘which one are you fucking?’”

  I stared at him, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t know why she said that,” he admitted.

  Bullshit.

  “She was fucking you and someone else.”

  He shook his head. “No. I was done with her for a while.”

  “Either way, you shared her with somebody.”

  “No, Maxwell, I don’t share anyone at any time.” He walked past the place that had been barricaded by tape. “But this is good.”

  “What is?”

  “You thinking.”

  “You want me to think?” I asked.