23. Ivan

23

IVAN

I couldn’t look away.

Becca sat there comfortable and confident, at ease with a natural-born grace. She belonged there, in her element and relaxed behind that spinning wheel.

And I refused to miss a second of it.

It was a huge step to approach after trying to distance myself while she was in my custody. Staying busy and away from her hadn’t helped this obsession with her. It had only fueled my desire.

Giving in and seeking her out was a big change in my treatment toward her. Alek expected me to talk to her again and try to ferret out more information about Steven. But I was here with a different perspective.

I was a moron to ever try to stay away from her in the hopes that my intrigue and lust for her would fade.

And all those weeks were nothing but wasted time I could have spent talking with her, fucking her, falling even further.

No wonder Alek and Nik were unashamed to show how much Mila and Amy mattered to them.

This feeling of clicking with a woman was soul deep. I’d never felt so aware and certain with another person, and I would be damned if I'd let anything prevent me from getting closer to her.

We were different. But maybe she could be the yin to my yang and complete me like no other.

“How did you learn to do that?” I asked, my focus rapt on her.

Her slender fingers were strong and confident over the clay. Those toned arms showed her musculature, all the smaller, finer motions she’d honed with finesse in her line of work. With her red hair falling out of that bun, cascading down to almost shelter her sweet face from my view, she looked like a fairy. A siren. An earthy, sexy woman of art and compassion.

An innocent lover who welcomed me to make her harder. To dirty her up.

I’d fucking love to, Becca. You have no idea how much I want to.

“I watched videos. Hung out at the art room at school.” She made it sound like it was nothing, like just anyone could merely witness someone else performing this craft and instantly pick up on it themselves.

“Steven was never there. I was a latch-key kid, left to my own devices, expected to raise myself and take care of anything I needed. He never knew or cared where I was. Never knew that I’d taken an interest in art.

“Did your grandmother teach you too?” I asked, wishing I could take the chance to get closer to her. She called to me, enticing me to touch her. It wasn’t easy to watch her capable hands slippery on that dark clay and not wish that she could touch me the same. Hard, with a firm grip. Rubbing and stroking. Unafraid to use pressure and create what she wanted. It would be like a kneading massage. Or an irresistible tug on my cock. All I could think of as I watched her fingers was the vision of her gripping me, of her cupping her own tits and squeezing herself to the point of pain.

Art was a delicate study. A dainty pastime. Seeing her at it, though, I wanted to watch her go further and use more force. To take her own sexuality with both hands, unafraid to explore like she did with this clay.

“She did. But that was so long ago. When my mother was alive, she spent so much of her time with me. Going to bookstores. The park. The library. Anywhere free and away from Steven because he’d never treated her well, always arguing and fighting.”

“She tried to shelter you from him?” I guessed.

“Yes. And she’d bring me to visit my grandma here and there. But my grandma disliked Steven and always thought he’d conned my mother into dating and marrying her. She claimed that he’d knocked her up for control.”

I wondered if she’d ever thought that about Dominic and Emily. But that didn’t ring true. The man hadn’t even known she had his daughter. He’d dismissed her.

“After my mother was gone, I was too ruled with grief to spend time on art. My grandmother had her stroke, and that prevented her from showing me much. It’s a blessing she left me this place, though, for the little I ever use it.”

I could see her here, and in a better location. Somewhere with windows. More security. Not in the basement of an old building on the Cartel’s turf.

That was an addicting dream to latch on to. Giving her the world. Making her happy.

“If you could have the freedom to focus on your art, is that what you’d like to do?”

She glanced up at me, doubt and skepticism in her green eyes. “It’s not all I’d want to do.”

“What else?”

She sighed, lowering her gaze again. The curtained effect of her hair lent her an air of mystery, of luring me to see her sweet eyes again, so open and vulnerable. She was too soft, too delicate, and a burning need to protect her and show her the world lit hotter within me.

“I hated being an only child. I’d love to have a family for once. For Emily to not only depend on me, but several others who’d love her just the same.”

I laughed once. “Trust me. As one of five boys, sometimes, having siblings isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

She smiled. Her cheeks lifted slightly as she kept her focus on the clay blob that already resembled the shape of a bowl.

“You want to have more children?” I asked.

She huffed a laugh. “Well, isn’t this getting to be a deep and introspective interview?”

It was. And I was enjoying every second of it. I’d spent too many years maintaining walls around my heart. To kill, torture, and hunt like I was expected to, I had to harden my heart and protect my soul. With her, this woman almost thirteen years younger than me, I felt safe to be honest for the first time ever.

“I never thought I’d have kids.”

She raised her brows. “Do you?”

I shook my head.

She seemed flustered, licking her lips and lowering her head. “You, uh, you didn’t use a condom with me.”

“I didn’t.”

She glanced up at my statement. “On… purpose?”

“No. It just happened. But I would’ve given you a contraceptive pill afterward if I’d wanted to.”

“You mean to tell me that a man who supervises sex clubs, someone with a much more varied sex life than the norm, who surely sleeps around a lot, has never knocked anyone up?”

I shook my head. “I use protection. And if I don’t, I demand the morning-after contraception. No exceptions.”

Her hands didn’t move, still over the spiraling bowl. “Other than me?”

“Other than you.” Part of my decision had been an impulse of figuring nothing would happen. When I fucked her for the purpose of getting her to talk, I figured it’d be the only time I’d have her or even want her.

How wrong I was.

Since that night, I’d yearned for another time with her. And another. And more.

When I did consider forcing her to take a contraceptive pill the morning after, I dismissed the thought. Too many things were happening. I learned that she was already a mother, and the process of her getting under my skin was already too far underway for me to not want a future with her.

“Seeing you with Emily has changed me,” I admitted.

“How so?” Her question came quickly, but softly.

“She’s innocent, so trusting, and I feel like a fucking king when I calm her down or see her smile.”

“It is marvelous, isn’t it? Not only the satisfaction of knowing you helped her and the reward of stopping her from fussing, but it also feels so good to be the one to provide and fix things.”

I nodded. That was it. I knew just what she meant.

“I hate the thought of your having to do it all alone.” I grunted a laugh. “Obviously. That’s why I called Margie and asked her to come to the house to help.”

“She’s an angel.”

But am I your hero?

“I can’t imagine being a single parent.”

“Because of what you have to do for your family? For your job?”

“Not only that. But because I’d want to share the experience. With a partner.”

I watched her slender neck tense as she swallowed. Once more, she broke eye contact, and it felt like a crime to hide away from me.

I’d started on this path, and I refused to stop.

“I’ve been thinking about how I don’t want to see her go. That I want to be able to watch her grow up and develop into a young girl, then a headstrong woman.”

She sighed, furrowing her brow as she focused on the bowl.

“How I want to see you open up to me. To trust me to show how good it can be past the pain.”

“Ivan…”

I stood, unable to sit here with this tense attraction hanging between us. We’d both resisted this for too damn long. This suspense of not being together was too damn much to bear anymore.

“I keep wondering what you might think if you ignored how different we are.” I walked closer, heady with the tease of being within her reach.

“I torment myself with wanting to ask you to stay.”

She lifted her face to me as I stood before her, next to the still-spinning wheel. The lust shining in her eyes was the final straw. Even if she’d try to insist she didn’t want me, I saw it. I felt this snapping electricity between us.

“After Murphy is gone. Once I kill Dominic?—”

Her jaw dropped. “Dom? Him too?”

I nodded. “For ever fucking touching you.” Lowering my hand, I cupped her chin and slid my hand over the soft slope of her jaw. Such a heart-shaped, perfectly angelic face. This woman would be the death of me, dammit. I craved her with every cell of my body.

“You’d do that?” She swallowed, tipping her face up higher to stare at me. “For… me?”

“For you and Emily. For my peace of mind to know that no other man can ever claim you again.”

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, and I reached up with my thumb to free the plump flesh. I’d be the one to bite her, dammit.

“How can I know that you mean it?” She blinked, wary but seeming so tired of fighting what she wanted. “How can I know that you really want me, Ivan?”

I gripped her, holding on to the underside of her jaw to prompt her to rise.

“I’ll fucking you show you, sweetheart.”

Then I crashed my lips to hers and sucked down her needy growl in response.