Avenge :Romanian Mob Chronicles(99)

Probably not.

But I had the information, and I’d find a way to use it.

The knock at the door made me freeze, my hand stopping in midair as I reached for the refrigerator. For a split second, I thought it might be Christoph. But when the knock came again, that thought fled and was replaced with as close to unadulterated joy as I had felt in as long as I could remember.

I recognized the knock as Anton’s and, unable to stop the grin that covered my face, I went to the door, not bothering to hide my eagerness.

When I opened it and saw him, half in shadow, half bathed in afternoon sun, it was all I could do to keep from throwing myself into his arms. He hadn’t shaved today, and his jaw looked rough with dark stubble, the T-shirt he wore giving a perfect view of the strong column of his neck.

I realized I was smiling when one side of his mouth kicked up. The transformation was miraculous, the simple little movement taking him from dangerous to dangerously handsome in a blink. My blood thickened and my heart started to thud harder as I thought about his lips against mine, the way he gave much the same smile when I cried out my pleasure.

“You’re dressed down today,” I said, low and throaty with desire that I couldn’t hide.

“I am. May I come in?” he replied, voice much lower than mine and equally laden with desire.

I stepped aside and he entered, moving with the same deliberateness that always marked him. He closed and locked the door and then turned to me and took the one step that separated us.

When we touched, I exhaled a sharp sigh, the explosiveness of our connection shooting back so strong, it almost weakened me. He lifted his hand to my hip, pulled me into him until our bodies touched, the heavy pressure of his hand, the warm hardness of his chest, his clean masculine scent enveloping me.

“First things first,” he said.

Then he covered my lips with his, kissing me deeply, deliberately, as he pushed his tongue between my lips and then tasted the cavern of my mouth, seeming to leave no part of me untouched.

When he broke away, I was dizzy with desire, my pussy clenching with the need to be filled by him again, my hands tingling with the need to touch him.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I left,” he said, his voice slightly breathy, just enough to prove that I wasn’t alone in this.

“I’ve wanted you to do that and more since you left,” I said.

“Good,” he replied, the answer almost cocky, something I was willing to overlook, especially as he worked his hand against my hip, rubbing slow circles that almost had me keening.

I lifted my hands to his chest, curled my fingers against him, and only belatedly realized the boldness of the move when he lifted a brow, an uncharacteristic humor lighting his dark eyes.

“Hey, you did it,” I said with a shrug.

“I did. And I want you to touch me everywhere, just like I’m going to touch you,” he said.

Hesitance, something I’d never seen or heard from him, stilled my hands. “What are you thinking?” I asked.

He smiled briefly. “What makes you think I’m thinking?” he replied.

“I can hear you,” I said.

He laughed, the short sound lifting my heart even further. But he sobered quickly.

“What was that? With Christoph Junior?” he asked.

My eyes widened, but I tried to school my features, not yet willing to share what I had discovered with Anton.

“I don’t know,” I said.

With anyone else, it might have been convincing, but my answer only seemed to make Anton that much more suspicious.

“I don’t,” I repeated, his own questioning glare making it impossible for me to stay silent. “I’ll be honest…”

His expression dropped but he stood silent, waiting.

“He is a strange man. I’m never quite sure what to expect from him, so I try to stay out of his way,” I said.

That seemed to relax Anton just a bit. “Good. Continue to do so. I don’t want you involved with Christoph Junior, with any of them.”

The fierce protectiveness I heard in his voice warmed me. It almost sounded like he cared.

“Except you, right?” I asked, tightening my hands again and then standing on my tiptoes to press my lips against his neck.

I couldn’t see his face, but I heard his smile.

“Yes, except me,” he said, and I giggled at the vibration of his throat against my lips.

I kissed him, nipped at his hot skin, not really sure what I was doing but deciding that his breathy exhales and the way he tightened his hold on my hip were good signs. As I continued to kiss him, I dropped my hands down to rest on his waistband for a moment before I slipped my fingers under his shirt, the first touch of his hot skin and hard muscles after what had felt like an eternity making me exhale as well.