Kissing The Enemy (5 page)

We stayed like that for a second, mouths open and lips almost touching, our panting breath forming clouds of mist around us. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. I was almost drunk with anticipation: I wanted it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.  
Kiss me!

He gave a low growl, one that vibrated through me. I could feel every muscle tense as he primed himself, but still he didn’t move.
Kiss me!

I had my eyes closed, but I could sense that he’d opened his. He was gazing down at me, savoring the moment. I couldn’t take it any longer. “
Pozhaluysta potseluy menya!
” I panted desperately, forgetting that he wouldn’t understand.

The urgency in my voice was enough. A big, warm hand slid across my cheek, fingers sinking into my hair, and then he was kissing me full-on and for keeps, lips hard against mine. I could feel every ounce of his pent-up lust: he wanted me with an intensity I’d never known, wanted to take me in every conceivable way, to know every inch of my body. But there was something else, as well, something that was so powerful it took my breath away, something that felt like it shocked him as much as me. He wanted to possess me, to wrap me up in his arms and carry me away somewhere so that no one else could have me.

And even as part of me wanted to draw back from the intensity of it, something deep inside me was rushing towards it, as if it was something I’d been missing my entire life.

It was a kiss that moved, that made me twist and slide against him as I followed it. My hands were grabbing at his arms, my cold fingers sinking into the soft cashmere of his overcoat, feeling the hard bulk of his muscles beneath the layers of clothes. His tongue found mine and danced with it and I moaned through the kiss, clutching at his shoulders. He answered with another low growl, kissing me even harder, as if my moan turned him on. And as our bodies shifted together I felt it for the first time: the hard, hot outline of his cock against my upper thigh, very close to my groin….

Movement beside us and the rattle of an engine. I opened my eyes to see a cab had pulled up beside us. We must have looked as if we needed a taxi,
now.

Angelo reluctantly broke the kiss and lowered me gently to the sidewalk, then held the door of the cab for me. He strode around to the other side, overcoat billowing out behind him like a cape, and got in beside me, his thigh against mine, his muscled body huge in the confined space. I leaned forward to tell the driver my address and, the instant I’d finished and we were moving, Angelo’s hand was on my shoulder, pressing me back in my seat. “What was it you said, back there?” he asked. His eyes darted between my eyes and my lips.

I swallowed. “
Please kiss me
,” I translated.

His eyes ate me up for a second and then he pounced, twisting around so that he was in front of me, my head cupped between his hands as he pressed me back against the leather and kissed me. I panted into his mouth and kissed him back, my hands roaming over his neck and shoulders.

The cab whisked us towards my house...and whatever came next.

I
’d never been so
hot for a woman my entire life. Not just hot for her, but just totally...I couldn’t even find the words.

The traffic was light and we were rushing through the city, heading God knows where: I hadn’t heard the address she gave the cabbie. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t once glance out of the window. We could have been driving via the fucking North Pole with polar bears ambling past outside and I wouldn’t have known. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

Captivated.
That was the word. I was captivated.

She was so completely unlike any woman I’d ever met. There was this...
grace
to her, even when she was still. And when she moved...Jesus, watching her walk into the restaurant had been like watching a prowling cat, and everyone in there, men and women, me included, were just yapping, clumsy dogs.

Lithe.
That’s what she was. Soft, smooth skin, elegant curves, but underneath it all were those toned dancer’s muscles, giving her flexibility and stamina. Combined with the fire in her eyes and the way she’d panted at me to kiss her...she was going to be unbelievable in bed.

My kisses slowed down, growing purposeful as my hands explored her. I couldn’t get enough of her mouth. She was the perfect combination of sweet femininity and raw, untamed sexuality. Kissing her was like throwing myself head first into a warm, dark canyon with no bottom: my lips met hers and I was just
lost
and I didn’t care at all.

She seemed to be oblivious to how insanely sexy she was, unlike the preening women I normally met. But she couldn’t be: that was impossible. Every little detail must have been carefully calculated to turn me on, like she was some Soviet spy from the 80s who’d been tasked with my seduction.

Her hair, which had looked so tauntingly prim when it was up in a bun, now hung loose down her back, making her look like some ice princess off the cover of a fantasy novel. I couldn’t believe how long it was and I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would look like when she was naked and it was the only thing shielding her modesty. I wanted to brush it forward over her shoulders so that it covered her breasts, nipples peeking out between the strands, just so I could have the pleasure of sweeping it back and revealing her again.

Her dress, her coat, even her shoes were all black, setting off the soft tan of her skin and making that platinum-blonde hair shine even brighter. When she’d shrugged out of her coat and her back had arched a little, her high, pert breasts had lifted under the thin fabric of her dress in a way that made me catch my breath. I’d been looking at that dress and the way it hugged her body all evening. I’d been imagining cupping her bare shoulders and then following the sides of the dress all the way down.

Now I could finally do it, growling as I circled my palms on the soft warmth of her shoulders, kissing her slow and deep as my hands slid lower, lower...past her chest, the heels of my hands almost grazing her breasts, down her sides, over her hips and along her thighs.

My thumbs touched nylon and she gasped against my mouth. The feel of her smooth thighs was addictive. My kisses became hungry and open-mouthed. I sucked that gorgeous lower lip into my mouth and nibbled on it, the sound of her rapid breathing exciting me even more.
She’s as turned on as I am.
My thumbs circled and stroked, my fingers nudging the fabric of her dress higher. Was she wearing nylons or—

My thumb touched a band of smooth fabric, then the soft warmth of naked skin. She was wearing stockings. My cock was harder than it had ever been.
I have to get this dress off of her. Right. Now.

And then the cab slowed to a stop and we were there.

I threw some money at the cabbie and then we were sliding out of the seat and into the night air, still kissing, my hands on her hips. The air was shockingly cold after the warmth of the cab, rushing under my coat and down my collar. I knew it must be even worse for Irina, with her stockinged legs, so I pulled her right up against me, leaving not even a hair’s width between our bodies. We stood there kissing as the cab pulled away, our fronts keeping each other warm while our backs grew colder and colder.

When she finally broke the kiss, she said, “That’s my house.”

For the first time, I bothered to glance around. We were in some suburb I didn’t recognize, way out in the sticks. The street was quiet and it was a clear night, the stars shockingly bright overhead. “Uh-huh.” And I drew her back into the kiss.

A moment later, she broke the kiss again and ran a nervous hand through her hair. Her face was flushed, her pupils huge with need, but she looked worried. “My roommate will be there.”

“Uh-huh.” I cupped her cheeks and brushed my thumbs through her hair, marveling at its silken softness. I was vaguely aware that something was up, but I was too busy trying to kiss her to figure it out. My lips came down on hers and she gave a soft little moan. I ran my hands down her back, tracing the shape of her through the layers. I was desperate to get her inside and undressed, but kissing her was just
too fucking good!

She broke the kiss a third time. “My room’s a mess,” she said.

This time I finally forced myself to focus because I could tell something was wrong. She wasn’t changing her mind: I could see it in her eyes, hear it in the husk of her voice. She wanted this as much as I did. But….

I had to fight hard to get through the fog of lust clouding my brain, but I finally got it. She was worried I was going to think she was a slut or something because she’d invited me back here on a first date.

Just as I worked it out, she opened her mouth to speak again. Immediately, I put a warning finger on her lips. She went silent, but gave me a look of outrage that was so fucking adorable I nearly forgot what I wanted to say.

“
Shh
,” I said sharply. Then I leaned closer, so I could speak right into her ear. “Irina: I want you. Right now. You’re driving me crazy and I’ve got to have you.
But—”—she shifted minutely and the feel of her soft lips against my finger made me almost groan out loud—”
But,
if you’re not ready, tell me now and I’ll go.” The words were rolling out of my mouth before I even knew what I was saying. Was I really telling her I’d wait for her? “We can do this tomorrow or the next night or in a month’s time. It’s okay. I’ll still be here.” I felt her draw in her breath, as if what I was saying was shocking. “But if you want this
now,
like I do...then let’s go inside.”

I drew back a little and blinked at her. I was at least as surprised by what I’d said as she was. But it had worked. She nodded once, quickly, her mind made up, then grabbed my hand and led me inside.

I only caught brief glimpses of the interior. She rushed me through it, maybe self-conscious that it was small. I wanted to tell her that it was a hell of a lot bigger than the place I’d grown up in, but I couldn’t drag my eyes from her legs, or from the curve of her ass as she walked ahead of me. Plus, I was still trying to come to terms with what I’d said to her outside.
Offer to wait? Me?
It wasn’t something I’d ever done before—hell, the women I normally met didn’t
expect
anything more than a one night-stand. But with Irina...I realized it was true. I would have waited, if she’d made me.
I am fucking obsessed with this woman.

By the time we made it into her bedroom, I couldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed her as she pushed the door closed and pressed her full-length against it. Then I cupped her head in my hands and ran my fingertips through her hair as I kissed her hard. The feel of her soft, supple body against the hardness of mine had me panting. I grabbed the hem of her dress and started dragging it up her thighs, still kissing her. My fingers brushed over nylon, then her stocking tops, then the soft smoothness of her thighs. She moaned into my mouth and that stoked my lust even more.

I hauled her away from the door and spun her around, pulled her coat off her arms and let it fall to the floor. Then I pulled her back against my chest until her ass was grinding against my cock. I pulled her dress higher, revealing a pair of simple, black panties. Somehow, that triangle of black fabric between those smooth golden thighs was more enticing than any elaborate lingerie.

I snaked one hand down her body and between her thighs, groaning as my fingertips pressed against her warmth. I started to stroke her there and, immediately, she clenched her thighs tight around my hand, her dancer’s muscles pinning me tight for a second.
Jesus, she’s going to be an incredible fuck.
I moved my hand more firmly, overpowering her, and she groaned in surprise and pleasure as I worked at her softness through the thin fabric. A minute of gasping, panting friction and she was wilting against me, thighs clenching around my hand in time with my movements. Two minutes, and I could feel her slickness wetting the fabric.

I almost hurled her onto the bed. She landed on her back, dress rucked up around her hips, and stared up at me with a look that drove me wild. It was only there for a second, but it was like looking down through layers of ice to white-hot magma. Underneath all that cold, there was a raw, powerful lust that matched my own. The idea of that, in a woman as gorgeous as her, blew my mind.

I tore off my coat and climbed onto the bed, one knee between her legs. Her dress had slid down a little and I started to push it up again, wanting to grab hold of her panties and pull them off. I wanted to see her, there, just gaze at her for a while, then I was going to spread those thighs and lick her until she screamed—

My elbow hit the little table next to her bed. A framed picture fell over and toppled over the edge. I grabbed for it and caught it before it hit the floor, then lifted it to put it back in its place—

I froze.

That’s—

No, of course it fucking isn’t.

I lay there willing the picture to change, but it stubbornly refused to.
Yes, it fucking is.

The picture had been taken in a forest. There was Irina, just as gorgeous as she was in the flesh. One arm was wrapped around a kid who might be a younger sister. And her other arm….

Her other arm was wrapped around the waist of a silver-haired man in his sixties. A man I knew very well.

“Irina,” I asked, fighting to keep my voice level. “What’s your last name?”

She stared up at me in confusion. “Malakov.” She glanced at the photo and then my horrified expression. Her voice went tight and cold. “Vasiliy is my uncle.”

The picture slid from my fingers. I heard the glass break as it hit the floor.

I got up off the bed, stumbling a little. It felt as if the whole room was spinning.

Irina’s eyes narrowed in anger. “What?” she snapped. She tugged her dress down over her thighs. “So what?”

Seeing her mad made me chest ache. Ruining everything we’d been building towards cut me deep...but I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even reassure her that it was okay—my mind was whirling too fast.

And telling her it was okay would have been a lie anyway, because it most certainly was not fucking okay.

She was Vasiliy Malakov’s niece.

My body seemed to move by itself. I saw myself grab my coat and head down the stairs to the front door and then I was away, off into the night.