Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 100417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I wish the place would be the same, just minus that one room.”
He raised his brows, as if to say challenge accepted.
As we strolled toward the pool, I said, “I got the strangest text from Ivanna this morning. From what I could decipher, she wrote that her family would be in the States by the end of next week. And that her new place was amazing.” (hus s amzasng!1) “You know anything about that?”
He shrugged. “If she hadn’t sent you to me . . . I am very beholden to her—and to Botox in general.”
“She was a little pissed that I hadn’t asked for help, but she understood too.” I already had a friend in Miami! “She also texted that Anthony closed up shop and is on the run from the mafiya.”
A raised brow. “I will prolong that for as many years as it pleases you.” Beside the pool, he sat on a lounge chair, then gingerly pulled me into his lap. Sun bathed us in light, dappling the blue water beyond.
“When do you think we’ll christen this chair, Ruso?”
He groaned. “Unfortunately, not for a while.”
“I understand, baby boy. After all, you were shot. And at your age too?” I fake-winced. “But I’m sure they’ll clear you for duty”—I wriggled over the growing bulge in his lap—“eventually.”
His voice was husky. “Little witch.”
“I guess I’ll give you a reprieve because you took a bullet for me.”
“I’d do it to eternity to have this moment. Though you know I won’t rest until you’re mine in every way.”
“It’s you for me, Ruso. You are stuck with me. But what if I want to wait awhile before thinking about marriage?” Even with the man of my dreams, I didn’t want to rush things.
I had this feeling that I’d know when the time was right.
“Then I’ll propose to you weekly.”
I found that fair, since we both knew he could use a magic wand, rope, and the strategic application of a chastity belt to get me to yes.
I twirled my finger over the left side of his chest. “You aren’t done with me yet?”
He pinned my gaze with his own. With a surprisingly smooth accent, he told me, “Nunca voy a terminar contigo.” I’ll never be done with you.
EPILOGUE
Jacksonville
Graduation day
“You can’t be late, Lucía,” Máxim rasped in my ear as his body worked mine. “How did you talk me into this?”
“It’s your own fault for looking so hot in that suit,” I told him, my nails digging into his shoulders. “When your woman needs it, she needs it. We’ll be quick.”
I was getting it on with a Russian sex god. In a closet on campus. In my graduation robe. Because I could.
Life was sweet.
“Am I hurting you?” He was asking me that after what we’d done last night?
Though I was totally healed up, he still asked. My scar wasn’t even that bad. But as Máxim had said, “I can see how close I came to losing you.” Sometimes, he would shudder and kiss it. Well, no more than once a day. He’d also said the mark was much “daintier” than his own “rugged” bullet-wound scar.
His was on the right side of his chest; mine was on my left. Whenever Máxim and I kissed, so did our scars.
Because we were intertwined. In sync. Lock and key. Our bodies, our lives.
“Hurting, Máxim? I’m in agony here.” I rubbed my face against his, purring Spanish in his ear—that I needed him, I needed every inch of his gorgeous body, and every inch of his magnificent cock—which made his hips surge, because the devil understood it all.
In Russian, he told me he wanted to fuck me forever, that my body was his heaven and my skin tasted like sun—which made me rock my hips on him in a frenzy. Because I now knew more than four words of his language.
He had to muffle my screams with his palm, and his own yells against my neck.
Forehead to forehead, we caught our breath.
“You like me when I graduate, Ruso?”
A sound of satisfaction rumbled from his chest. “Woman, I love you when you graduate.”
We made each other presentable, then hurried to the auditorium, hand in hand. Beside the stage, he gave me a lingering kiss. The man could not possibly look prouder of me. “Behave up there, moyo solnyshko.”
Behave? Just for that, I mussed his hair before I ran to take my place in line.
The dean was moments away from handing me my holy grail! All it’d taken was half a decade, a near-death experience, and teaming up with a Russian mobster.
Natalie, Aleks, and Jess were waiting for Máxim in the audience, saving him a front-row seat. They all laughed at his disheveled appearance.
I’d begged the three of them not to come, but they wouldn’t be dissuaded. Because I was family.
Jess had been on her best behavior, because she wanted to coordinate hot mamí’s wedding, the one everyone knew would eventually happen. Organizing two billionaire weddings would pretty much set her up in the coordinator biz.
After this, we were all flying to Russia to see Natalie and Aleks’s estate and vacation at Máxim’s own—which he insisted was half mine. Which meant every horse was half mine!
I was also going to see Dmitri. I was nervous about that, but optimistic since he’d wanted to meet. Máxim remained committed to reuniting his brothers, and thought Dmitri visiting with someone who was a big fan of Aleks and Natalie could only help.
Also going to Russia? Scrappy Miami mutts. Máxim and I had kind of gotten three discerning dogs. At the pound, I hadn’t been able to pick between a trio of badass brutes. He’d frowned. “Why choose, solnyshko?” He bribed them as shamelessly as he spoiled me.
I hoped the pack didn’t trash the jet (as they had the Bentley and Vasili’s shoes!).
After our visit to the motherland, I planned for Máxim to take me to Paris—so I could experience the infamous Le Libertin club. I’d become an ardent and aggressive fan of my Russian’s kinks. Late last night, I’d still been primed after our earlier marathon session. I’d woken him by trailing the end of a rope along his torso. “You like me when you tie me up?”