Dimitri (21 page)

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Authors: Roxie Rivera

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #alpha male, #bad boy romance, #roxie rivera, #her russian protector, #tattooed bad boy, #sexy new adult romance, #mob romance

BOOK: Dimitri
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"Ride me, baby. Make me come."

As if he had to ask twice…

 

*

 

Dimitri didn't think Benny had ever looked as
strikingly erotic as she did in that moment. The post-orgasmic
blush turned her honey brown skin a lovely shade of pink. With her
mussed hair and red, swollen nipples, she looked thoroughly
debauched. She licked her lips and started to sway on his
lap.

That tight, hot sheath enveloped his cock like
no other. It was a ridiculously sentimental and romantic thought
but Dimitri couldn't shake the idea that she'd been made just for
him. They fit together so perfectly. Surely that wasn't mere
coincidence.

She sighed his name again. Her sultry pout drew
his attention. Rising up on one elbow, he tangled his fingers in
her long tresses and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She purred
as he ravaged her, fucking her with his tongue and branding her as
his.

Falling back to the bed, he enjoyed the view of
her luscious, bouncing breasts. He cupped the supple flesh and
brushed his thumbs over the tender peaks. She inhaled a rough
breath but didn't ask him to stop. He felt her pussy flutter around
him, confirming what he'd come to suspect about his woman. The sex
kitten lurking within her loved a little kink—and he was happy to
show her the way.

Watching her ride him with such passion stunned
Dimitri. Just a few short days ago, she'd been so shy and uncertain
with him. She'd learned to embrace her vulnerability and trust in
his love. Seeing how she'd blossomed filled him with the strongest
sense of pride.

"God, I love you." He tugged her down for
another kiss. The moment their lips met, he planted both feet on
the mattress and started to fuck her. He pounded into her,
hammering her snug pussy as she clawed at his arms and let her
tongue dance with his.

"Dimitri! Oh!
Oh!
"

"Come for me, sweetheart." He pleaded with her
to let go, to give into the raging inferno threatening to sweep her
away. "Come one more time."

Her grip tightened. Her breaths grew shuddery
and shallow. Even though his stomach muscles burned, he didn't let
up his breakneck pace. One more. He just needed to hear and feel
her coming one more time.

With a shriek that could shatter glass, Benny
climaxed. The feel of her sweet little cunt rhythmically milking
him sent Dimitri flying off the edge of the cliff. He growled like
a damn bear as cum rocketed through his shaft. The white-hot
frissons of pleasure left him gasping and limp.

Benny fell forward against him. Her hair was
plastered to his cheek but he didn't have the energy to push the
ticklish ends away from his skin. Panting hard, he wrapped both
arms around his woman and embraced her. The whole world could be
ending right now and he wouldn't care. He had Benny and that was
all that mattered.

She shifted slightly and pressed her
forehead to his. Her gentle breaths buffeted his face. "Dimitri
Stepanov, I really,
really
love you."

Smiling, he whispered, "Benita
Marquez Burkhart, I really,
really
love you."

Giggling, she fell off him and onto her side.
He rolled so he could gaze into those big, beautiful brown eyes.
There was so much he wanted to tell her. He simply didn't know
where to start.

But their perfect moment was shattered by the
sudden, unexpected pounding of a fist against the front
door.

Chapter
Twelve

 

In a flash, Dimitri sat up and moved his body
between the woman he loved and the open doorway of the bedroom. The
incessant pounding never let up at the front door.

"Please! Help!" A man's voice, muffled by the
door, echoed in the quiet stillness of the apartment.

Dimitri jumped off the bed and grabbed Benny by
the waist. He carried her into the bathroom and put a finger to her
lips, preventing her from asking the million questions probably
racing through her head. Voice barely a whisper, he instructed,
"Lock the door. Get in the tub. Keep the light off. Do not make a
sound."

She nodded and he kissed her, his
lips lingering on hers. Tearing his mouth away, he pushed her
inside and shut the door. The
snick
of the lock came a heartbeat later. He put a hand
to the wood and prayed she wouldn't need its thickness to defend
her from whatever was waiting on his doorstep.

He grabbed his flashlight and pistol from the
bedside table and quickly loaded it. After snatching up and hopping
into his boxers, he shut off the light and moved with stealth into
the living area. He killed the lamp there, too, just in
case.

Flashlight in hand and pistol at the ready, he
cautiously approached the front door. The desperate knocks hadn't
stopped. He peered through the peephole but couldn't make out the
shape on the other side. His gut twisting with anxiety, Dimitri
flipped the deadbolt and opened the door.

"Dimitri, please…" Johnny's pained voice met
his ears. A moment later, the young man fell into his arms.
Something wet and hot spilled onto Dimitri's skin. The scent of
blood filled his nose, the smell causing flashbacks to uglier
days.

"Shit." Cursing roughly, he dragged Benny's
little brother into his apartment and kicked the door shut. Putting
down his weapon, he locked the door, smearing blood all over the
silver fixture, and slapped on the light.

His face pale and drawn with pain, Johnny
clutched his left arm. His shirt and jeans were soaked with blood.
Dimitri pushed the kid's hand out of the way and inspected the
nasty bullet wounds on his upper arm.

"Benny! Bring towels.
Now
!" Dimitri lifted
Johnny up and carried him into the kitchen area where the tile
would be easier to clean. After turning on the brighter lights in
there, he placed the kid on his back and jerked his shirt out of
the way to examine his belly. "Are you hit anywhere
else?"

"My side," Johnny said with a groan.
"Fuck. It
hurts
."

"Of course it fucking hurts," Dimitri snapped
back. "This is what happens to stupid little punks who play
gangster."

"Johnny!" Benny arrived on the scene wearing
one of his shirts. Thankfully the shirt hung down to her knees and
kept her modest. Not that any of that mattered right now. "Oh my
God. Oh my God."

"Calm down, Benny." Dimitri hated to be short
with her but the last thing he needed was for her to fall apart on
him. He jerked the towels from her hands. "Go get my phone. It's in
my jeans. Find Kostya's number. Dial it and bring the phone
here."

She glanced at Johnny and hesitated only a
moment before rushing off to follow his instructions. While Dimitri
waited for her to return, he applied pressure to the wounds he
found on Johnny's body. He had a bullet lodged in his bicep and
multiple grazes down his arm and along his ribcage. Glass shards
were embedded in some of the wounds. He had gashes and scrapes
everywhere. Some were deeper than others. All of them needed
medical attention.

As if sharing his thoughts, Benny slid down
next to him and held the phone to his ear. "We have to get him to
the emergency room."

"No!" Johnny spoke first but Dimitri agreed
with him.

"No, Benny." He shook his head. "It wouldn't be
safe."

"But—"

"No." He didn't like being firm with her, but
like Erin who had stumbled into the middle of a damned gang war,
Benny had no idea how this shadowy world worked.

She clenched her jaw but didn't fight with him.
Not now, at least. There was no doubt in his mind that she would
give him the tongue-lashing of a lifetime later.

Kostya finally answered. Sounding sleepy, he
quickly perked up as Dimitri gave him the bare details in the
language only they could understand. As always, Kostya came through
for him. "Ten minutes."

Dimitri pulled his ear away from the phone as
it went dead on the other end. "Kostya is on his way. He'll stay
with you, Benny, while I take Johnny to see the doctor."

She gulped as she moved to her brother's side
and cradled his sweaty head in her hands. "The doctor?"

He nodded and kept pressure on Johnny's wounds.
"He's on Nikolai's payroll. I trust him to fix Johnny and keep his
mouth shut."

"But why?" Benny looked so terribly conflicted.
"Why do we have to keep our mouths shut? Why can't we just call
9-1-1 and get the police and an ambulance over here?"

"They'll kill us," Johnny interjected, his
voice weak and breathless.

"Who?" She gently rubbed her brother's cheek.
"Who did this to you?"

He shook his head, refusing to
answer.

"Johnny, please—"

"No, Benny. You don't need to know. The less
you know, the safer you are."

Dimitri found some respect for Johnny. For the
first time in a long time, he was finally putting someone else
before himself. If he told Benny details, she wouldn't be able to
lie to the police who would be sniffing around soon enough. She'd
cave under pressure and put a target on her own back. If the people
who shot at Johnny thought she could finger them, they wouldn't
hesitate to take her out to protect themselves either.

"Benny, hold these towels on his wounds. I need
to get dressed."

She moved next to him and put her hands over
his. He tugged his hands free and brushed a kiss against her cheek
before standing. Hurrying into the bedroom, he grabbed clothes from
the closet and shut the door, hiding the evidence of their amorous
night.

He was pulling on his shoes when there was
another knock at the door. Certain it was Kostya but refusing to
take any chances, he picked up the gun he'd set down near the door
and glanced through the peephole. Kostya's familiar shape greeted
him. He unlocked the door and ushered his friend inside.

Kostya's gaze fell to the bloody smears on the
floor. His jaw hardened but he said nothing. A man of few words, he
didn't need to ask what had happened or what needed to be done now.
He'd come prepared, wearing blue hospital scrubs and surgical
coverings over his shoes.

His friend trailed him into the kitchen where
Benny talked soothingly to Johnny and pressed hard on his oozing
wounds. Kostya took one look at the bloody scene and nodded
stiffly. "No problem, Dimitri. I'll take care of this."

Relieved to have Kostya's help, Dimitri grabbed
trash bags and duct tape from the pantry. He secured the makeshift
trauma dressings in place and wrapped the trash bags around them to
keep blood from leaking out all over the place. Kostya addressed
him in their shared language and asked for Dimitri's keys. After
swiping them from the pile of clothing on the floor, he left the
apartment, no doubt to secure a shower curtain or tarp over the
front seat of Dimitri's truck.

Alone with Benny and her brother, he slid a
bloodstained hand along her waist and pulled her close. He could
practically smell the fear spilling off of her. "Kostya will keep
you safe while I'm gone. Do whatever he tells you, Benny. I'm going
to get Johnny patched up and stow him someplace safe." He glanced
at her brother who seemed to be hanging on fairly well. "I swear to
you, Benny. I will keep him safe."

With a terrified sob, she threw her arms around
his neck. "Please be careful. Both of you," she begged. "I can't
lose you both."

"You won't." He kissed her then,
pressing all his love for her into it. His lips moved to her
forehead. "It will be all right,
lyubimaya
moya
."

She sniffled and nodded weakly before turning
to her brother. She gripped his bloody hand in hers. Tears dripped
down her face. "Johnny, I love you."

He rolled his eyes and tried to make light of
the situation. "I'm okay, Benny. It's nothing. You'll
see."

Kostya returned to the apartment. Dimitri
didn't want to prolong the awful parting of the two siblings so he
lifted Johnny off the floor and carried him out of the kitchen and
across the living room to the door. He didn't pause at the
threshold to his apartment.

No, he kept moving. He moved with stealth and
silence, hurrying to the open door of his truck and placing Johnny
on the seat. The kid groaned in agony but didn't fight him when he
buckled the belt around him. Checking both ends of the street and
the parking lot, Dimitri saw nothing out of the ordinary. Hopefully
Johnny hadn't been followed. If he had…

"No one knows I'm alive, man."

Dimitri threw the truck in drive and hit the
gas. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, man. Benny's car? It's fucking
toast."

"Toast? What do you mean?" He shot Johnny an
annoyed look. "You were driving your sister's car?"

"I took it this evening, after our
fight."

Reminded of how Johnny had come at Benny during
their argument, Dimitri informed him, "You're lucky you've been
shot. If you ever slam your sister into a wall again, I'll shoot
you myself—and I won't fucking miss."

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