Under the Skin (6 page)

Buoyed by the unprecedented closeness between them during and especially after the explosive sex, Patrick nuzzled the tattooed cross in the center of Alexei’s smooth chest. “Will you tell me what orders they gave you tonight?” he asked softly, hoping Alexei understood it was the lover speaking, not the policeman. He wasn’t completely sure he wanted to know, but if Alexei would tell him, he could put the matter behind him rather than wondering and worrying.

Pushing up on one elbow, Alexei exhaled shortly, a sound that from another man might have been laughter. “Konstantin felt generous,” he said, his mouth twitching at Patrick’s questioning expression. “He wanted me to… share with him,” he said finally, not willing to admit to his lover what Konstantin really wanted.

“Share… a lover?” Patrick asked, jealousy eating at him. He knew all about Konstantin Volkov and the power he had over Alexei. He didn’t know why, but he knew it was real. The thought of the other man—any other man, honestly—seeing the same expressions on Alexei’s face that Patrick had seen only moments ago turned him green.

“A woman,” Alexei corrected, though since Patrick knew what the Volkovs trafficked in, he would likely know that meant a whore. “Hardly a lover.”

Patrick’s disbelief must have been clear on his face, because that stifled, rusty snort came from Alexei’s mouth again. “But…,” Patrick began, glancing down at their intertwined bodies. He trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say. He wondered briefly about the woman—if she had been a prostitute, as seemed likely from the way Alexei phrased his words, if she had been willing at least. As attractive as he found the other man, he could easily see a woman feeling the same way. The sardonic tone of Alexei’s voice, even more bitter than usual, made him wonder if Alexei had been willing. “Did you enjoy it?”

“In
vory
, men don’t fuck other men,” Alexei grated.
At least, not outside of prison
, he thought grimly
.
“You are danger not only because you are
police
, but because you are
man
.”

And yet you came to me tonight anyway
, Patrick marveled silently, though it had been no answer to his question. Suspecting Alexei would not appreciate him mentioning either observation aloud, he simply nodded and tilted his head up to kiss his lover gently. This new revelation, combined with all that had transpired between them that evening, gave him the assurance he needed not to cling to Alexei as he usually wanted to do. Untangling their limbs slowly, he sat up, reaching for his jeans. “Then I should go,” he said gently. “I don’t want you in any more danger than you already are.” Pulling his shirt into place, he bent down and pressed another kiss to Alexei’s lips, wanting it clear that his departure was for now, not forever.

Alexei watched silently as the strong, slender body was hidden once again beneath the worn denim, completing the transformation from lover back to adversary. When Patrick bent down to kiss him, he was tempted to pull the younger man back onto the narrow cot, but he had come too close tonight to letting himself want this too much, to letting it mean more than it could. Instead, he sat up and dug his cigarettes out of his coat pocket, the flare of the match offering a quick glimpse of his lover’s face before spluttering back into darkness.

A part of Patrick could not help hoping Alexei would say something, anything, to stop him from leaving, to encourage him to call again soon, but he knew better than to expect it. Circumstances had pushed his skittish lover further tonight than in all the time they had known each other. He would have to be satisfied with that. Pausing at the door, he glanced back to drink in the sight of Alexei sitting naked on the cot in the dim light from the window and from his cigarette, storing up that memory to hold him until he couldn’t stand it any longer and had to call again for another surreptitious fuck in the dark. Steeling himself to wait as long as he could, he summoned a smile for his lover and disappeared into the dark warehouse and out into the night.

The door slammed shut and Alexei smoked his cigarette, wondering how long he would need to wait before Patrick called again.

Chapter 4

A
LEXEI
lay in bed in his apartment, watching the smoke from his cigarette rise to the ceiling. He’d lost track of how many he’d smoked, but sleep eluded him. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw Patrick’s face transfixed with pleasure as he climaxed. The memory alone was enough to keep him half-hard beneath the cool bed sheets.

Unbidden, the image of the whore Konstantin had fucked earlier that evening crossed Alexei’s mind. Tried to fuck, anyway. He’d seen the way Konstantin had looked at him from the first day when he’d convinced Fyodor Volkov, Konstantin’s father, to take him on as his son’s bodyguard. He wasn’t above using that nascent, unacknowledged desire to influence Konstantin—as much as anyone could control the younger
vor
’s reckless impulsiveness. He hadn’t been very successful tonight. Konstantin had insisted on “celebrating” their vengeance on the gang-bangers who’d killed Grisha by visiting one of his family’s stables of young prostitutes. After downing the better half of a bottle of vodka, he’d pulled one of the girls into a back room. Alexei had poured himself another shot and settled in to wait. After about fifteen minutes, Konstantin had shouted for him.

“Lyoha! Get in here!”

Alexei walked into the room to see Konstantin half undressed on the bed behind a naked girl on her hands and knees. Neither of them looked like they were enjoying themselves.

“
Da
?” he asked from the doorway, wondering if Konstantin knew himself why he’d chosen that position.

Konstantin looked up, something wild sparking in his eyes as he met Alexei’s. “You should get some of this,” he slurred, slapping the girl’s flank. “She’s really good.”

Alexei hoped he’d managed to mask his distaste. “Perhaps when you’re finished,” he demurred.

“Why wait?” Konstantin demanded. “She has mouth. She can suck you while I fuck her. Now, Lyoha.”

Alexei understood then that it was not a request but a command. “
Da
,
da
, Kostya,” he answered calmly, unzipping his fly as he approached the bed. His cock was soft when he pulled it out. He touched the girl’s chin, and she raised her eyes from the bedding to stare at him blankly, making him wonder if she was drugged, but she opened her lips to take him in. The heat of her mouth made him harden a little, and he eased back, the thrust of Konstantin’s hips pushing her forward to take him deeper.

Konstantin’s eyes raked Alexei’s body, far too avid in their gaze to be anything other than rapacious. “You can’t be comfortable like that. Take your shirt off.”

It was another demand, so Alexei worked open the buttons and let the shirt slide off before bracing himself with an arm on the girl’s shoulder. The coolness of the room tightened his nipples, and he heard Konstantin draw in a hissing breath. Despite himself, Alexei began to react to the suction of the girl’s mouth, a curl of heat starting to warm his loins.

Konstantin’s thrusts sped up after that, forcing the girl’s mouth onto Alexei’s cock with more power and depth, but the
vor
’s eyes never left Alexei. “She is good,
da
?” Konstantin said, his eyes glazing with lust. “Show me how well she did her job. Come on her face now.”

For a moment Alexei wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow that order, but he closed his eyes and forced himself to ignore the surroundings, focusing only on the pull of moist heat on his cock. When he felt his balls tightening, he pulled out, splashing his release over the girl’s lips.

Konstantin groaned at the sight, his body shuddering in release. “Lyosha,” he all but whimpered, his eyes never leaving Alexei’s face.

Hearing Konstantin use the intimate diminutive of a lover had left Alexei feeling as soiled as he imagined the whore did after servicing both of them. Konstantin had clapped an arm around his shoulder and dragged him from the room before he could even zip himself back up. He’d only managed to learn the girl’s name from one of the other prostitutes before Konstantin insisted on leaving. Luckily for Alexei, the
vor
had been drunk enough to pass out in the car on the way home. Alexei had gotten him inside and left before Konstantin could importune him again. He’d hesitated over keeping his assignation with Patrick, knowing he wouldn’t have time to shower if he was to arrive soon enough for there to be a chance the policeman would still be waiting. In the end, though, he hadn’t been able to stay away.

It had been like that from the beginning, from the first time he’d looked across Grisha’s body to see the way Flaherty was eyeing him. As soon as he’d identified himself as
politsiya
, police, Alexei had smothered the spark of arousal those searching brown eyes had ignited in him. But Flaherty hadn’t let it rest, and Alexei was far from a saint. He’d fought against it, but in the end he hadn’t been able to resist taking what the detective offered.

Alexei stubbed out his cigarette and lit another, the scent of Patrick’s skin lingering on his hands. It shouldn’t have been different than any other time, but after the farce with Konstantin and the prostitute, he hadn’t been able to use Patrick the same way. Not like he always had before, especially the first time, when it had all still been a game.

Flaherty had set up a meeting at the CTA station on Cumberland under the pretext of having more photos for Alexei to view and see if he could identify Grisha’s killer. Not that Alexei would have admitted it had the man been among them. He was treading an even more dangerous line than usual, for the law of the
vory
was to never cooperate with authorities. But he had suspected Patrick knew he would not get anything substantive—it was an excuse for the two of them to meet, nothing more.

To Alexei’s surprise, Flaherty actually produced pictures to show him, asking if any of the men looked familiar. Alexei looked at the lines crowding in and out of the station and drew Patrick toward the restrooms. “Too many people,” he muttered, but the flare of awareness in Patrick’s eyes belied that excuse.

Between the commuters from the trains, the adjacent Greyhound bus station, and the homeless men looking for somewhere to spend a few hours off the streets in the increasingly cold weather, the restroom was far from private, but Alexei was beyond caring. He pulled Patrick into the first open stall—which happened to be a handicapped unit—and backed him against the door, crashing their lips together. Patrick returned the kiss with the same hunger, his hands burrowing beneath Alexei’s coat with insistent familiarity. Alexei allowed the invasion but broke the kiss and pulled back after a heady moment.

Patrick didn’t care for that turn of events at all, the pictures in his hand fluttering to the floor as he unbuttoned Alexei’s coat and reached for his belt, obviously intending to continue where their previous meetings had left off. “What’s the price this time?” Patrick goaded. “What do you want from me in exchange for the answers to my questions? My hand or my mouth?”

“You presume I answer your questions,” Alexei retorted, but he remembered Patrick licking the come off his hand after their last meeting, and this time neither hand nor mouth would be enough. Grasping the detective’s shoulder, he spun him around, wedging him against the small sink in the corner of the stall. He leaned into Patrick’s back, his arousal hard against the younger man’s ass, his hands working at the fastening of his belt.

Patrick struggled against him, not quite fighting, but certainly not bending over passively. “That’s the deal,” he ground out. “You touch me, you tell me what I want to know. Take it or leave it.”

“Oh, I take it.” Patrick’s belt conquered, Alexei worked a hand inside his jeans, wrapping a fist around the policeman’s shaft. He wasn’t surprised that it was already hard and wet. He dragged his thumb over the swollen crown, smiling at the hiss of pleasure the rough caress wrung from his partner’s throat. With his free hand he thumbed the button from its hole and dragged the jeans down the lean hips. “I take everything you offer.”

“Use a condom,” Patrick demanded, the order the tacit permission Alexei needed to take what he desired. What they both desired, he told himself as he opened Patrick with his fingers, the rough entry eased by the packet of lube he’d slipped in his pocket. When Patrick was pushing back against him, he rolled the condom on quickly and buried himself with one fierce thrust.

Patrick choked back his cry, their location hardly giving them the privacy for more uninhibited expressions of their desire, but Alexei heard it. He felt it, too, in the way Patrick bucked against him, the arch of his back proclaiming his need as loudly as if he’d shouted it to the heavens.

Alexei grasped Patrick’s flank with one hand as his other worked Patrick’s cock, his hips driving them against the stall’s sink hard enough to leave bruises on the policeman’s thighs. Patrick met him thrust for thrust, squeezing so tightly that Alexei had to bite his lip to hold back his climax, his thumb rubbing the slit of Patrick’s cock until it spurted. The contractions of Patrick’s orgasm dragged Alexei with him. “Patya,” he groaned as he shuddered through his release, no longer able to delude himself that this was just about taking what Patrick offered.