ROMAN
Apparently it takes around three and a half hours to get to St. Petersburg, but I sleep for most of it, Nikolai rousing me when we’ve landed.
“Lev, we’re here,” he tells me softly, his hand stroking my face as I blink my eyes open. I wince as I go to stretch, pain radiating from my shoulder and causing me to grit my teeth to stop from crying out. “Careful.”
“I wouldn’t need to be careful if you hadn’t shot me, wanker,” I grumble, but he only laughs, helping me to sit up. It’s then I realise that I’m untied, and by the lack of a dead arm, he must have done it a while ago. “Don’t expect any thanks for untying me.”
He grasps my chin in his fingers, and although I’m screaming at myself to shake him off, my traitorous body allows him to lift my chin to meet his dark gaze. The heat in his eyes has me sucking in a breath, my insides warming.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have you tied up again soon, moy Lev,” he purrs, but it doesn’t sound like a threat. No, it sounds very much like a dark promise and one that, once I’m healed, I may even enjoy. Fucking stupid, sexy Russian. “We need to get you dressed. It’s colder here than in England.” He steps away from me, opening a hatch and taking out a bag, setting it next to me on the bed and then unzipping it.
I glance down and realise that I’m only in a pair of black boxer shorts, which aren’t mine. My brows dip down in a frown. “Whose boxers are these?”
He looks over at me, holding what looks like a brand new pair of black Levi’s. “Mine.”
My eyebrows raise, my lower stomach heating again at the idea of wearing his underwear. Then I stop breathing entirely when he steps in front of me again, dropping to his knees. He’s right. Fucking. There.
There’s nothing I can do as my dick fills with blood and jerks in my borrowed boxers, the idea of his lips wrapping around it consuming me completely.
Fuck.
He stills, his gaze fixed on my cock, which won’t go down no matter how much I try. Bastard.
“If we had more time, I would take care of that for you, Lev,” he states in a low voice, moving and helping me get one foot into the jeans. “But we have to get you somewhere safe first.”
I let out a shaky exhale, stunned into silence as he gets my other leg in and starts pulling the jeans up.
How can I be like this when Iris and Hunt are the other parts of my soul? Sure, I was attracted to Nik, even helped Iris play with him a bit. But what happened to make this feel so much more than just a bit of fun?
I feel my dick deflate as my head snaps up, a thought popping into it.
“They still think I’m dead, don’t they?” I ask quietly, pain lancing my chest at how my brother must be feeling. How they all must be suffering as I would if I thought any one of them had died.
“Yes, for the moment. It was safer that way, Lev,” he answers, averting his gaze from mine as his chin dips down. He heaves a sigh, standing up and leaning into me. “You need to be standing so I can pull them up.”
I take a second to remember that he was helping me get dressed, and I would argue that I could do it myself, but even I’m not that pigheaded. I’m exhausted, my shoulder a dull ache and my body begging for more rest, despite the fact I’ve slept most of the flight.
He carefully wraps his arms around my good side, pulling me up, and I hiss as it jerks my wound.
“Fuck, that hurts,” I groan, my head spinning with being upright for the first time in two weeks. I’ve been pretty out of it since he shot me, Andrei dosing me up with the good shit to help with the pain.
“I know, I’ll be quick,” he assures me softly, letting me lean against him as he pulls the jeans up.
He helps me back down after he does them up, then pulls out a thick, knitted zip-up, slipping my good arm into it and wrapping it over my sling, zipping it up. He kneels again to place socks and boots on my feet, then pulls out a big puffy coat, putting it on me the same way as the jumper.
A knock at the door has my face turning towards it, sweat beading on my brows from the effort just getting fucking dressed has taken.
“We’re ready to depart, Nikolai. There’s a car waiting,” a voice I recognise as Dima states, the door remaining closed.
“We’ll be there in a minute. Make sure the coast remains clear.” Nik’s voice is hard, all business, and there is something so bloody attractive about a man in charge. It’s part of Hunt’s appeal as well. Seems like I have a type given the way my pulse races and my dick twitches in the jeans. “Ready?”
I glance up to find him looking at me, wearing a fucking long cashmere coat that moulds to his body perfectly. Jesus fucking Christ.
Huffing out a breath, I nod, bracing my good hand on the bed and using it to push myself up. I waver on my feet, dizziness washing over me, then a powerful arm wraps around my good side, supporting my weight while I breathe and try not to throw up.
“Take it slow, and Andrei will give you something for the pain when we arrive,” he tells me. “We need to be aware, just in case, otherwise I’d give you something now.”
I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the throbbing that has turned into a white-hot stabbing sensation, and put one foot in front of the other. Sweat drips down the side of my face, but we make it, albeit slowly, through the door and the plane. The brisk wind hits my face, and the blessed cool has me sighing.
“It’s definitely colder here,” I state, remembering the warmth of late summer on my face before I left for Colorado. “Remind me, what month is it?”
I’m trying to distract myself from the stab that each step down these fucking stairs to the tarmac causes, and honestly, everything is a bit of a blur and I’ve lost track of time.
“September sixteenth to be exact,” Nik responds, his arm never slipping as he takes most of my weight and we reach the bottom of the steps. There’s a black car with tinted windows idling on the tarmac, Andrei and Dima standing guard and scanning the landscape just like Nik is. “It’s actually my birthday.”
The last part is said as an afterthought, and I pause, panting and looking to the side at him. He’s staring around us, clearly making sure that there are no dangers. Then slowly, he turns his face towards me, the wind making his usually neat hair blow around him. The weather here is shit.
“Happy birthday, Nik,” I whisper, and before I can question myself, I place my lips against his, my eyes closing as I make contact with the plush surface.
He freezes for just a second, then with a quiet groan that sets my blood alight, his free hand comes up and cups my cheek, his lips pressing back against mine. His kiss steals my breath, the soft stroke of his tongue against my lips leaving a riot of butterflies fluttering around my stomach as I open to him. The first touch of our tongues is unlike anything I’ve felt before. Hunter has always been home to me, his kiss leaving me all warm and fuzzy. Iris is like a joining of souls, like you finally find that thing that you lost and were desolate without.
But kissing Nik? It’s like fire and ice all at once, burning me up and cooling me down in equal parts until my head spins and I’m barely clinging on.
All too soon, his tongue leaves my mouth, his lips slipping from mine but hovering above them.
“Fuck, Roman,” he whispers, his thumb stroking my cheek as he rests his forehead against mine. Our breaths mingle, both laced with vodka as we stand there, just breathing. “We need to go. I need to get you somewhere safe, moy Lev.” His voice is pained, and when his hips shift, his hard length presses against mine, a small moan falling from my lips at the zap of pleasure that zings across my nerves.
With a gargantuan effort, I pull back, blinking before noticing the thinnest ring of brown around the wide black pupil in his eyes. I shift my feet, a flash of pain catching me off guard, and I curse.
“Motherfucker!” I snarl through clenched teeth, taking a second to just breathe as the pain consumes me.
“Let’s get you in the car,” Nik tells me softly, adjusting his grip so that he takes even more of my weight and guiding me to the waiting car once I can see straight.
He lets me take my time getting in, the inside spacious with seats facing each other. My door is shut as soon as I’m settled, Nik going around to the other side and climbing in the back with me, sitting on my good side. Dima gets in the driver’s seat, Andrei climbs in the back with us, a shit-eating grin on his face as he sits opposite us.
“You don’t need to look so pleased,” Nik grumbles, though a smile plays around his plush lips, which look red and kiss swollen. I swallow hard, my gaze dropping as my hand clenches into a fist in my lap.
I don’t regret the kiss. Fuck, I can’t wait to do it again, but there’s a thickness in my throat when I think about Hunt and Iris, back in England, thinking I’m dead.
“We need to get a message to them,” I state, looking up at Nik. His gaze softens, his hand reaching out and taking mine, lacing our fingers together. My eyelids flutter, the comfort of the simple gesture slowing my racing heart.
“We will, Lev, I swear it. Tonight, once we’re at the safe house, I’ll send her our co-ordinates,” he tells me, his gaze sincere and the skin around his eyes tight. I give his hand a squeeze, knowing that this is hard on him too. He’s trying to balance so much, keep so many plates spinning that a lesser man would crumble under the pressure.
“How long until we get there?” I ask him, resting my head back against the headrest, unable to hold it up anymore, exhaustion sweeping over me again.
“About four hours. You should rest,” Nik instructs, but my eyes are already closing. Shit, I’m like a fucking child, so weak.
Fingers brush down the side of my face before soft lips press against my forehead as darkness carries me under once more.
