Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Galina

T his felt like it was a really bad idea as I stood across from Arlo in a questionably stained—possibly once white—boxing ring.

We'd left almost two hours ago from his apartment. I'd taken in the wealthy part of the city, remembering the glittering skyscrapers that seemed to touch the heavens, where people walked up and down the streets without the fear of getting pulled into a dark alley.

I'd stared out the window of his car and saw the affluence slowly turned into that ugliness Desolation was so known for.

I didn't need to ask if this gym was Russian. That had been clear when we stepped inside and I saw the massive Russian flag hanging behind the boxing ring, coupled with the fact that all I heard was men shouting and talking in another language.

At first, I'd had in this weird moment of awe as I followed Arlo inside, the gym bag hanging loosely from his strong, broad shoulders. Although all the noise sounded like there were a hundred men crammed inside, there was probably only a handful, all of them so big and loud it made my ears ring. But as soon as they noticed Arlo, the conversation stopped, all eyes on us.

He said something low but loud enough that it carried through the small interior. And then I watched in confusion and a little bit mesmerized as the men left. As in they left the gym.

I glanced around. The place appeared run-down, decades old. The boxing ring itself was battered, with dark tape holding some of the roping together that surrounded us, the white beneath my feet stained in brown, rusty shades.

I looked at Arlo again, the white T-shirt he wore hiding almost all the tattoos on his chest, yet I could make out the dark ink and shapes beneath the thin, light-colored material. "Is this place owned by the Russian mafia?" I had no idea why those words came from my mouth. I felt my eyes flare in surprise and a little bit of fear.

I didn't want to get on his bad side, although I didn't know if Arlo had a good side.

I also had no idea if blatantly talking about the Bratva would piss him off. Not that I knew anything about the former, but if I were to guess, I assumed this place was hard-core mafia territory.

"It's owned by Ivan." He smirked.

I licked my lips and started moving my hands up and down my thighs. "Ivan, huh?"

He nodded once. Slowly.

I said nothing else, just kept running my sweaty palms up and down my thighs. The workout clothes Arlo had gotten for me were nothing but a pair of black leggings, some ankle socks, tennis shoes, and a form-fitted short-sleeve shirt. I was completely covered, modest even, yet whenever Arlo looked at me, I always felt so naked.

"What did you say to everyone to get them all to leave the gym?" I figured that was a safe enough conversation switch, but when he slowly shook his head, I had a feeling this might have been another "nonnegotiable" situation.

"I told them," he finally said, "you weren't a sideshow, so I politely informed them the gym was closed for a private lesson."

This dark tendril moved through me at his words, because I knew what they were. A lie.

I watched the way his gaze tracked up and down my body, how his eyes moved along my form, lingering on the long lines of my legs, moving back up to skate over the most intimate part of me that was totally covered, so it wasn't like he could see anything, yet I felt a whole lot of heat in that moment.

Then he moved his gaze up my flat belly, over the small mounds of my breasts, and finally looked into my face. My nipples hardened under the sports bra and thin Lycra of my shirt. I tried to control my breathing, but I knew I failed. How could a look make me feel like this?

"I have a feeling that's not what you said to them," I said with a hint of teasing in my voice.

"It's too bad you don't speak Russian," he said, deep and low. "Then you'd know if I was telling the truth."

He was infuriatingly stubborn, and it turned me on like nothing else.

" Interesno, kak by vy otreagirovali, yesli by uznali, chto ya skazal im, chto pererezhu im glotku, yesli oni khotya by posmotryat na vas ." He spoke deep and low, his words flowing through and around me.

I had no clue what he had said, but for some reason it caused a shiver to consume my entire body. The smallest tilt of his lips showed me he knew what effect he had on me. "What did you say?"

He took a step closer, and one more until he was now circling me. "You should learn Russian, moy svet ."

That was the second time he'd called me that, but I was too flustered to ask what it meant. "Maybe you could teach me?" I had no idea why or how the words came out of my mouth, but I didn't take them back. It was presumptuous to think this man would help me any more than he already was. But as he stopped in front of me and I tipped my head back to look into his too-dark eyes, I idly wondered how much he would give me.

Arlo was so tall. At five-foot seven, I wasn't exactly short, but standing in front of him, my head only reached his pectoral muscles. He was so tall, so big that he was easily twice my weight. He made me feel safer than I ever had before.

I refrained from shivering at the thought and wondering if he was this big… everywhere.

He reached out, and my body tightened, but his finger just barely brushed my neck. " Gorlo ," he said as he curled his fingers around my throat.

I blinked up at him, and a second later he twisted me around until my back was to his hard chest. His hand on my throat was firm, but he made sure not to cut off airflow.

" Plecho ," he murmured, his voice right by my ear as he placed his other hand on my shoulder. He slid his fingers down my arm and curled them around my wrist. " Zapyast'ye ." Arlo moved his fingers down to curl around my hand. " Ruka ."

God, I was burning alive as I felt his entire body stay flush with mine, as I felt his hot touch skitter along what shouldn't be erogenous zones but very clearly were as I grew wet and needy. I could feel a moan burning up my throat, but in the next second he tightened his hold on me and jerked my arm behind my back. With the fingers of one hand wrapped around my throat and his other hand keeping my wrist to the small of my back, I felt trapped.

And then he was gone, my body tilting forward before I righted myself.

"It's a good thing I'm going to teach you to defend yourself, because in that moment I could have done whatever I wanted, Lina."

I turned around to stare at him, my face hot, which I hoped he took as embarrassment and not arousal. Because it totally was the latter. My breathing was so shallow and fast, yet he was completely composed. Any kind of idea that this man might be attracted to me and that's why he was helping went out the window as I remembered when he had his body pressed against mine. I hadn't felt any clear signs he'd been turned on. Not like me.

And that thought had even more heat rushing to my face with embarrassment.

"Come on, Lina. Show me what you learned."

A part of me—one I should burn to the ground if I was smart—wanted him to call me by my real name. Just say Galina. Call me Galina as you touch me.

My heart was racing a mile a minute as I stared at him. Arlo was massive, but wasn't that the point of self-defense, to take down somebody who was bigger than you, who was a threat? But my couple of measly classes wouldn't help me in this instance. I'd gotten lucky with the drunk in the alley. He'd been inebriated. I'd caught him off guard, and then I'd run like hell. There was no running from Arlo. We were caged within these boxing ropes, but I knew even if I got out, he'd still get me. He'd find me, catch me… do whatever he wanted.

"I don't want to hurt you." My words were low and almost laughable even to my own ears. And then he smiled slowly, the first full-blown one I'd seen him give me in my presence. I wondered if this was the first one he'd ever worn.

It was terrifying… and so attractive.

He curled his finger toward me in that universal sign for come here . My legs were like jelly, my hands shaking. I felt a drop of sweat slowly trail down my temple. I went back to those classes I'd taken, forcing myself to look at Arlo like he was the threat he was portraying to me right now… the threat he was to everyone else.

I charged after him, aiming for his legs to take him down, but I only got a few steps before he wrapped a thickly muscled arm around my waist and lifted me off the ground. I gasped with the sudden rush of air and shift of the ground beneath me, and then once again he had my back to his chest, his arms keeping mine pinned to my sides.

"Show me again," he said darkly against my ear and let go of me.

I stumbled forward and tried to catch my breath. I turned around again, not sure what the hell I was doing, yet trying to look for a weak spot. I went after him again, but this time I ducked when I saw the subtle tensing of his arm. I knew he was about to grab me again. I managed to kick my leg out and get him in the calf, but his leg was like cement, hard and unyielding.

He had me off the ground and spun around so fast I grew dizzy. And then my chest was pressed against the boxing ring rope, Arlo's massive body against mine, every inch of him burning me where he touched.

"You should get your money back if this is what they taught you." I could hear the teasing, annoyed note in his voice, and my own irritation rose.

"You're bigger than me, stronger." I turned my head to the side so I could look at him, but that was a foolish move, as it brought our mouths dangerously close together. "I don't have my pepper spray, and I don't have the added benefit of fearing for my life and getting that kick of adrenaline."

My breath caught, my lungs tightening, when this dark, strange look covered his face.

"You should be afraid right now, moy svet ." His words were low… deadly. "You should be more afraid of me than anything else in the dark." He leaned in an inch. "If you knew who I truly was, you wouldn't be so close to me."

I looked down at where his hand gripped the rope on either side of me, the tattoos on his fingers sneaking up the back of his hand disappearing and going up his wrist and forearm. I'd never been one to think tattoos were attractive, but on Arlo, it made him brutally beautiful to me.

"You're so tiny, moy svet ." He made a low, gruff sound and pushed away from me. I closed my eyes and breathed out just as he said, "Again."

And so for the next several hours, I sparred and grappled with Arlo until I was sweaty and sore, more tired than I'd ever been, but had never felt more liberated in all my life.