Stone Cold Knockout (House of Pain Book 1) (8 page)

“
I see you tomorrow,
solnyshka
.” He pulled his shirt back on and turned his back to her, shutting her out. Gennifer glanced around. The gym floor was almost empty. Austin was still bench-pressing, and there was one other straggler on a speed bag. Hector was up in the office. No one was paying attention to them.

“
You won,” she said, leaning on the ropes.

“
We spar again tomorrow.” He shoved his gloves in his bag. She climbed down out of the ring, pulling off her own gloves. “You did well,” he said, still not looking at her.

“
But you won,” she said. “We had a deal, Misha.”

“
Do not tease me,” he said, finally turning his head to look at her. “I am not in the mood.”

“
I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then,” she said lightly. Then she leaned close to him and stood up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “But before I go, I think I'm going to take a shower.”

Chapter 8

G
ennifer opened the door to the empty women's locker room and went inside, her heart thundering in her ears. The room was dark and about ten degrees cooler than the rest of the gym. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she made her way to her locker. With shaking fingers, she dialed the combination on her lock. The butterflies were out in full force in her stomach as she peeled off her sweaty bra and her leggings and kicked off her shoes. She folded her clothes and set them on the bench. She found the soap and shampoo she kept at the back of her locker, for moments such as these.

She unzipped her bag and pulled out the fluffy green towel she'd brought with her. She wrapped herself in it, grabbed her toiletries, and went into the shower at the back of the locker room. She hadn't used the shower in awhile, but on steamy nights like this one, it was a godsend.  Choosing the middle shower head, she hung her towel on the hook on the half-wall, and pulled out her ponytail holder. She shook out her sweat-drenched hair and turned on the hot water. The orange light from the street shone through the small window in the top corner, casting a warm glow over her. She stepped under the water, letting the heat seep into her muscles. She willed herself to relax. As the dark room slowly filled with steam, she felt nervous anticipation crawling up her spine. She was waiting.

Waiting for him.

She tilted her head back, running her hands through her wet hair. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was inviting a big bad wolf into her house with a smile on her face. He was dangerous and she knew it. She wondered if she was ready for him, but the truth was, she wanted him. A spark had ignited between them the first night they met. Now, it was time to either blow it out or throw gasoline on it and wait for it to blow up.  It was too late to back out, and she didn't want to. No way.

She wanted to explode.

A distant creaking sound interrupted her thoughts and she froze. The door. Her heart jumped in her throat. He was coming for her. The anticipation set her heart racing again. She forced herself to lather up her hair, running the creamy shampoo from her roots to the tips of her curls. She felt the suds running down her body
—between her breasts, down to the apex of her thighs. Suddenly, every sensation was sensual. The water slid down her body like fingertips. She could feel his eyes on her, and her body hummed as if he was physically touching her. She raised her elbows higher, her nipples tightening painfully. Her stomach twisted and her thighs clenched. When she couldn't take it anymore, she opened her eyes.

Immediately, her breath caught in her throat. Mikhail was watching her, leaning against the opposite wall. He was fully dressed, his hands in the pockets of his workout pants. He worked his jaw, chewing his gum. He looked almost bored, except for his eyes. His eyes could never fool her. They were wild and stormy and they were trained right on her.

She turned her back on him, knowing he loved her round ass. She was more than happy to give him a good look. She swept her heavy hair off of her back and the water trickled down her spine. She shivered, although the warmth and steam caressed her naked skin. The ache in between her legs spread into her belly and down her legs and she glanced over her shoulder, aching to see him. She wanted to see his reaction to her, but he wasn't playing her game. Mikhail hadn't moved from his position across the room and she felt a low moan rise up in her chest.
Touch me!
her body was screaming, but he wasn't listening.

She reached over and closed her fingers around the soap. She lathered it up in her hands and turned back around to face him. She ran the bar down the valley of her breasts, the slick soap gliding slowly over her skin. Goosebumps raised on her arms and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning. She wanted to be as impassive as he and pretend that she didn't care what he thought of her. But she did.

Maybe the humid heat had fried her brain, but she didn't care. At that moment, the only two people that existed in the world were her and Mikhail. They were alone in the steamy darkness and the possibility of sex was all around her. Hard sex. Fast sex. Crazy, mindless, shameless sex. The time for debate had passed. She'd spent three weeks trying to deny how she felt, but she was done pretending.

She wanted Mikhail.

She forced herself to draw her gaze up to meet his. The steam was thick between them but she could see she was getting to him. His jaw was tight and he stared back unblinking. She could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to move, but she was suddenly impatient. Gennifer slid a soapy hand in between her legs, keeping her eyes on him. She wasn't above pleasuring herself, and she hoped watching her would force him want to act.

She rolled her head to the side, letting the water rain down on the sensitive skin of her throat. She could almost pretend that his lips were there, tasting her. She could almost pretend that it was his hand between her thighs. Almost. She circled her clit with her middle finger and a moan escaped. Her free hand roamed to her breasts. She brushed the bar of soap over her aching nipples, the sensation sending a spike of lust through her.

Across the room, Mikhail's adam's apple jumped as he swallowed hard. Her heart jumped as he slowly—leisurely—pulled his hands out of his pockets. Eyes leaving hers for a second, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it at his feet. He slipped his thumbs under the band of his pants and worked them over his hips, the prominent bones of his pelvis crying out for her attention. She bit her lip, wanting to trace them with her tongue. With a quick movement, he shoved them down and his big cock sprung free. Lust spiked through her and the muscles in her stomach went taut. As he finished undressing, she dragged her eyes back to his, wanting him to know how much she needed him.

Needing him to know.

He seemed to hear her, finally, because he strolled across the room toward her. His body was stunning in the lowlight, every shadow highlighting his pure, muscular physicality. She ached to explore every inch of him with her hands, as well as her mouth.  He reached her, but kept his distance, his eyes sweeping over her nakedness. She could feel his hunger. He was starving to touch her and Gennifer ran her tongue over her lips, giving him permission to do just that. When he touched her, she wasn't going to push him away. At that moment, she couldn't fathom pushing him away ever again.

He held out his hand, and it took her a moment to realize he wanted the soap. She obliged him, her fingers brushing his as she did. Electricity shot through her and for a moment, she thought she was going to come on the spot. He leaned over, setting the soap back on the ledge. Then he grabbed her so quick she didn't have time to react. His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her against his bare chest. He dropped his head, his stubbled cheek scraping wonderfully against her smooth one.

“Do not tease me,
solnyshka
,” he whispered hoarsely into her ear. In response, she slid her hand out from between her legs and palmed his cock. He inhaled sharply, and she felt him expand and harden under her touch. He murmured something in Russian, thrusting one hand between her thighs, replacing her own. He wasted no time, roughly sliding two fingers inside of her. Gennifer arched her back, the intrusion sending a bolt of pleasure through her. He pumped his fingers and she tightened her fingers around his dick. He dragged his right hand up between her shoulder-blades as he fingered her. “Does that feel good, little girl?” he asked, his voice strained.  She nodded, her mouth opening but no sound coming out. He cradled the base of her skull, pulling her in close. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, stroking him harder and harder to match his thrusts.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pressed his lips against her throat and ran his tongue over her slick skin. She felt her eyes roll back into her head at the sensation. Her skin was sensitive there, but he sensed that from the very beginning. He was in tune with her in a way that was both terrifying and supremely addicting.  His big body was warm and rough and strong. His movements were sure and confident
—he knew exactly what he was doing. He flicked his tongue against her earlobe and she jumped as if burned. She felt herself clench around his fingers, buried deep inside her.  She dragged her mouth across his chest, tasting his salty skin. He tasted just as good as she knew he would. She ran her palm over the smooth head of his erection, wanting more than anything to taste him there. The thought of sucking his big cock deep into her throat sent her into a tailspin that she couldn't recover from. All she could focus on was him. He was bigger than life. His fingers felt big inside of her, but she knew he would feel even bigger. He would stretch her and fill her until... until....

Gennifer squeezed her eyes shut and cried out, muffling the surprise of her climax against his chest. She heard him growl in her ear, rolling his hips into her fist. Not missing a beat, he didn't slow the pace of his fingers, still pumping into her, stretching out her orgasm as long as possible. He nipped and sucked at her neck, his stubble abrasive in the best possible way. Not able to stop herself, she snaked her arms around his neck and held on, not wanting to let go.

She felt her muscles loosen as the wave ebbed, and she slumped against him. He pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her empty. Bringing the fingers to his lips, he licked them clean. He stared down at her with hooded eyes, lust all over his face. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and the thought warmed her to the core.

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him, softly, her lips just barely grazing his. She could taste the mint of his gum as well as something else, something that was uniquely him. She cocked her head, taking her time exploring his mouth, not wanting to rush the sensation. She couldn't remember ever wanting to kiss a man so much in her life and he was damn good at it. If possible, he was even better than she'd dreamed and she had a remarkably dirty imagination. Between them, his cock jerked against her stomach, as if sensing her thoughts. With a low moan, he grabbed her ass, flattening her against him. He attacked her mouth, kissing her like his life depended on it. She opened up to him, loving the feel of his probing tongue against hers, hot and hungry. She cling to him as he lifted her off her feet. Before she knew it, he had her back against the cold tile wall. He broke the kiss first, coming up for air.

“Gennifer,” he whispered her name, reverently like a prayer. “It is not enough.”

“
No, it's not,” she agreed, dragging her tongue over his chin.

“
I'm going to fuck you,” he said. A thrill went through her as his commanding words. “Do you have a problem with that?” His eyes searched hers, like he was daring her to disagree.
Nope. No problem,
she thought.
She almost laughed but there was no humor in his tone. He was holding himself tight, trying to keep control. He wouldn't do anything to her that she didn't want, she realized. He wanted her pleasure as much as he wanted his own. The Russian was intense, but he was all hers. She zeroed in on his cock again with a singular focus, wanting to give him just as much pleasure as he had given her.

She was going to take care of him.

She pressed her palms to his chest and gave him a light shove. He took a step back and she took the opportunity to drop to her knees and take his cock in her hand. She'd been fantasizing about this moment for so long and he did not disappoint. He had the most beautiful cock she'd ever seen
—thick and veiny, with soft silky skin, and a broad, ruddy head made for sucking. A bead of pre-come begged to be licked off of the tip of him. She wasted no time, wrapping her lips around him and taking him deep into her throat. He filled her up, his taste heady and spicy on her tongue. She held him there until she felt her throat constrict around him and her lungs cry out for air. Then she reared back, running her tongue along the sensitive underside of his head as she released him. He hissed, his cock jerking and bobbing in her face, crying out for her attention.

She could suck him all night, she realized. She loved the heavy, full feeling of him in her mouth. She loved the way her jaw stretched wide to fit him. He tasted delicious, just like she'd known he would. With a satisfied moan, she licked the tip of his cock, then circled it with her tongue. “Do you have a problem with this?” she asked, locking her eyes on his and raising an eyebrow. “I can stop.”

“Do not tease me,
solnyshka
,” he said and she smiled. A small, dangerous grin curled over his lips and then he said three wonderful words: “Suck my cock.”

An almost painfully sharp thrill went through her and she took him deep again, flattening her palms on his thighs. She picked up her pace, taking him deeper and deeper. He was too big for her, but she was damn sure going to try to take all of him. She felt his hand on the back of her head, and she moaned against him. She wanted him to be rough. She wanted him hard and fast and deep. His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her still. He withdrew from her mouth, then pumped back in slowly, inch by devastating inch.

She opened her eyes again and caught his gaze. She wanted him to know she didn't want to be treated softly. He seemed to get the memo and began to fuck her mouth in earnest. He pushed deep, but not too deep. He was still holding back. His stomach was tight, his self- control taking all of his strength. She felt her nails digging into his hard thighs but she didn't want him to stop. She was greedy. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. But at the moment when she wanted him the most, he pulled away.