Submit (The Underground Book 4) (8 page)

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Too bad Ivan has a perfectly good empty apartment we can’t use.”

“That is frustrating.” Nikolav made his way toward the kitchen area to get his own cup of coffee. If Belinda intended to stay up late, he would stay up with her.

“What’s she like?”

“Who? Belinda?” He returned to the living room area and plopped down on the sofa, taking a sip of his coffee before setting it on the coffee table. He closed his eyes and lowered his voice. “She has me by the balls, to be honest.”

He and Sergei had always been close. They’d been the last two out of the six of them to stay in Vegas and continue to fight for Yenin. For months they’d stayed after Yenin got out of prison. Nikolav blamed himself. Though he’d suspected Yenin was up to something none of them were privy to, he’d also felt bad abandoning the man who brought him over from Russia and gave him a life.

Sergei had undoubtedly stuck around to support Nikolav.

He’d held out hope for half a year Yenin would get his shit back together after he was released and resume managing his fighters. But the leader of the Russian Mafia had sent his father, Grigory Yenin, back to New York and sequestered himself in the lab in much the same fashion as Grigory.

Nikolav kept in touch at least once a week with Leo and Mikhail after they moved to Chicago, and later Ivan. When it seemed the three of them had far more gigs in Chicago working for Abram, Nikolav had talked to Sergei and the two of them had decided to join.

Their decision was made easier when the shit started hitting the fan and it seemed Yenin was behind it.

Nikolav took another sip of his coffee and then leaned back on the couch, putting his feet on the table in front of him.

Sergei chuckled. “That doesn’t really tell me anything about her. But at least I know to keep my hands to myself.”

“Please. If you value your life.” Nikolav knew Sergei well. The guy was a lady’s man. Women flocked to him as if he hung the moon. What was it with women and their animal magnetism for strawberry blond dudes with blue eyes?

Sergei chuckled as he lowered himself onto the other end of the sectional. “Message received. So I guess she’s hot?”

Nikolav moaned. “Italian.”

“Ah.” Sergei let out a long, soft whistle. “Dark hair?”

“Yep. And chocolate eyes. And her skin… Jesus.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind him. He would surely hear if she opened the bedroom door, but he didn’t want her to walk in and catch him talking about her. “Even sick yesterday morning, she packed a punch. When she got up today and primped for work, I nearly swallowed my tongue.”

Sergei continued to grin. “She know you’re into her?”

Nikolav groaned. “Not sure it matters. She’s got balls. Insisted on traipsing around this evening to get that story. Couldn’t talk her out of it. And she put me in my place more than once since we got back here. Doesn’t like me telling her what to do.”

Sergei chuckled again. “Rich. Man, you must be frustrated.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” He closed his eyes again and tipped his head toward the ceiling. Visions of Belinda swam around in his mind. She was strong and stubborn and feisty. No denying any of it. He’d known that for two days. The question was did she take that assertiveness to bed, or could she check it at the door?

Nikolav could deal with her wanting her independence in her professional life. In fact, it was so attractive his cock ached. But he’d also seen her tremble when he spoke. And she flushed when he took control. Every time.

Maybe he misread her thoughts, but if there was any chance in hell she could check that attitude at the threshold to his bedroom, he would take her under his wing and make her his in a heartbeat.

“The FBI agent isn’t hard on the eyes, either,” Sergei added.

Nikolav twisted to look at him again. “Jesus, man. Don’t you ever stop? Is every woman you meet a conquest?”

Sergei smirked as he shrugged. “No. Just the smokin’ hot ones. Don’t you agree?”

Nikolav rolled his eyes. “I guess. I didn’t really think much about it. She’s an FBI agent, dude. I don’t think she generally sleeps with guys like us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We don’t exactly play by the rules. The FBI is probably hoping to arrest us, not fuck us.”

Sergei chuckled. “Leo and Mikhail say the FBI has little interest in something as uninteresting as underground fighters.”

“Nevertheless, I’m betting she’s married to her job. And I seriously doubt her tastes run toward the submissive.”

“Why? Because she has a powerful job? Those are often the best kinds.”

Nikolav sighed. There was no arguing with his friend. Besides, the guy was right about that last part. At least he hoped so. Because Belinda Gallo was one of those high-powered women who bossed their way through every day. And he was secretly praying she could turn some of that sass over to him one day, at least in the bedroom.

»»•««

Belinda typed quickly, grabbing the rapid-fire story flowing out of her fingers without paying any attention to spelling or grammar. She could fix all that when she was done.

The moment she hung up with her boss, she knew exactly what to do. And although she worked best late at night with an adrenaline rush, she was unusually pumped tonight.

She had downed the coffee while speaking to Dale, and the caffeine in her veins had given her the burst of energy she needed to put the insane scramble for her life out of her mind. She concentrated on the explosion first, how it made her feel, the adrenaline rush, the people running in every direction. The sounds of screaming, babies crying, horns honking as traffic came to a stop. The scent of smoke in the air. The way it clogged her lungs with the debris. How her eyes burned as she moved away from the epicenter.

When she finished with the explosion, she moved on to the chase through the streets. The masked men. The guns. The FBI skidding up next to her and Nikolav to pick them up.

She typed and typed, losing track of time. When she finished the first draft, she immediately read and reread the piece until she had it precisely the way she wanted it. As she finished and sat back, she remembered where she was.

Shit
.

She jumped to standing and spun around. Where was Nikolav? She’d put him out of his own room and had completely forgotten about anything but her job.

Also not unusual for her, but she’d never worked so focused in someone else’s bedroom in the late hours of the night while they politely let her take over their space.

She padded from the room, opening the door carefully, hoping to avoid disturbing everyone in the apartment if they were sleeping.

Instead she found the living room still lit up, Nikolav and another man sitting on the couch drinking a beer and watching some sports news channel.

Nikolav glanced over his shoulder as she stepped into the room. “Hey. Did you finish?”

“Yes. Thank you. So sorry.” She glanced at her watch. It was after two. And it would take her awhile to unwind.

The other man stood and held out a hand. “Sergei,” he said as reached over the back of the couch.

“Belinda Gallo. Nice to meet you. Sorry I’m such a nuisance.”

Sergei grinned. “No worries. You’re fine.” He waved a hand through the air and resumed his seat. He was taller than Nikolav and looked nothing like him. His strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes were in sharp contrast to Nikolav’s dark hair and eyes. And where Nikolav had pale skin that would easily burn in the sun, Sergei’s skin was surprisingly dark considering his red hair.

Nikolav lifted the remote to mute the television. “You must be exhausted.” He rose from the couch and rounded it to reach her side. “We’ll find a way to get some of your belongings over here tomorrow, but in the meantime, Alena left you a few things in the guest bath.” He took her hand and nearly dragged her from the room.

She cringed as he mentioned her things as if he fully intended for her to stay in this apartment for the long haul. Wasn’t going to happen. “Nice to meet you,” she called over her shoulder toward Sergei. It was late, but she didn’t feel the urgency he obviously felt. Then again, he probably had to get up early. Dale wasn’t expecting Belinda at all tomorrow. She could sleep as late as she wanted and would contact him when she got around to it.

Nikolav pointed toward the bathroom, angling her in that direction while he turned toward his bedroom.

She slipped inside, trying to be as quiet as possible. After all, Alena and Ivan had to be asleep down the hall even if the rest of the apartment wasn’t. She smiled as she found a new toothbrush, makeup remover, and a towel sitting in a little pile on the vanity.

It didn’t take her long to use the bathroom, and then she was once again standing at the doorway to Nikolav’s room.

He didn’t hear her approach, and she found him leaning against the window staring out between the blinds.

Damn he was built.

She didn’t move an inch, taking in the way his muscles bulged down his back, tapering to his waist. His biceps were huge. She wouldn’t be able to wrap both hands around them.

She licked her lips.

It felt like she’d known him much longer than two days, which was ludicrous considering she’d spent the first day sick and sleeping and the second day at work and running for her life.

But, Lord, he had her attention every time they were in the same room. Her palms were sweating as she watched the ripples run down his back. If the situation were different… If she wasn’t the sort of person she was… If she could actually throw caution to the wind and be reckless… Oh yeah. She would sleep with this sexy vampire in a heartbeat. Not a doubt.

As if suddenly sensing her presence, he released the blinds and turned around. “Hey, didn’t hear you,” he whispered.

She stepped inside, shaking lustful thoughts from her head to find her brain. “I don’t want to kick you out of your bed.” It was true. She felt horrible about that. However, she also didn’t see a solution. It was hardly reasonable for her to go sleep with Sergei on the couch. Although, the sectional was huge. If she had one end and he had the other…

“It’s no problem.”

“It’s rude of me. I can seriously make do with anything. A blanket and a corner of that gigantic sofa will be fine.”

Nikolav chuckled. “Not a chance in hell, babe.” He stepped toward her. “If you thought your chastity was unsafe with me, you haven’t met Sergei.”

She flinched. “I’m pretty good at keeping my clothes on without any outside help.” And then she cringed. “Or I was until yesterday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She rolled her eyes. “Somehow I found myself dressed in the most ridiculous T-shirt and sweat pants. I know I didn’t put them on.” She felt a flush creep up her face as she verbalized her embarrassment.

Nikolav chuckled again. “Belinda, yes you did. Trust me, I wasn’t sure you were lucid enough to manage changing alone, but you did. Obviously you weren’t lucid enough to remember it, though. Yes, I went through your things to find you something to wear, but I left you in the bathroom to put them on. What you were wearing when I arrived needed to be burned.”

Now she was more embarrassed. “Oh. Okay. Fine. Good. But still. I think I can handle myself around your friend. You act as if I’m unable to ward off random male advances.” In reality, she sort of was—at least when it came to Nikolav. If he stepped any closer, she might fling herself at him to see how his lips tasted and to feel his firm chest pressed against hers.

Hell, if he reached for her himself, she would be complete putty.

So maybe there was some merit to his concern, but not with regard to Sergei. Sure, the man was as enormous and built and tall and sexy, but he didn’t do it for her like Nikolav did.

The broody vampire expression she often found on Nikolav’s face made her panties wet. In fact, she reached for her throat with one hand to rub her neck, shivering at the thought of his lips on her. She really needed to stop reading vampire novels or get her head examined.

But it was difficult to avoid thinking of him as some sort of night stalker since his looks epitomized every male bloodsucker in every novel she’d ever read.

“Nevertheless, I don’t leave women I care about alone with Sergei for one minute. The man’s a chick magnet. He can draw a woman into his web in seconds and eat her up and spit her out.” He turned toward his dresser and opened a drawer. When he spun around again, he held out a black T-shirt.

She was still reeling from his description of Sergei. Was Nikolav concerned for her well-being out of sheer politeness, or did he want her for himself?

“You want something to sleep in? Or you gonna stand there all night and argue with me about who gets the bed?” He stepped closer, lifting the T-shirt higher and shaking it out.

She glanced at the bed. It was king-sized. This entire argument was unnecessary. They were grown adults. They could both sleep in his bed without mauling each other. It wasn’t as if there was some reason to maintain some level of propriety. Who cared?

She took the shirt from him and pulled it toward her chest. On her next breath, she realized what a mistake it would be to put it on. It smelled exactly like him. Even though it was clean and folded in the drawer, it held his scent.

“I’ll let you get some sleep.” He started to squeeze past her where she still stood blocking the doorway.

“This is silly. We can both sleep in that bed. It’s large enough that we’ll each have our own zip code. Just give me a few minutes to change.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sexy and feisty and smart, and you smell like a million bucks. All qualities that will make it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself.” He grinned.

“So you’re saying Sergei isn’t the only one who can’t keep it in his pants for more than a few seconds?” What the hell was making her tempt him like this? She needed to shut her mouth and stop pushing.

But it was too easy. And she stood taller after he presented her with all those characteristics, making her feel like she was the best catch on the planet. Did he truly see her that way?