Ivan(12)

"Necessity? How?"

"Back in Russia, we grew up in an orphanage. You can't even imagine how awful it was."

I could actually. I'd seen news reports on the current state of some Russian orphanages. I could only imagine what they were like thirty years ago.

"You said we. Who is we?"

"Nikolai and Yuri and Dimitri," he explained. "We were all there together as boys. We ran away as teenagers. Yuri and Dimitri found their way into the military. Nikolai and I found a different path. We learned how to survive. When things changed, when democracy and capitalism came, we realized we were in a unique position to make money." Sighing slowly, he lifted his hands and tucked them behind his head. "But then I came here and found a way to get into some honest work."

"Fighting?"

He shook his head. "I never fought in any kind of professional match."

I frowned. "No?"

"I did my fighting in a different kind of cage."

"Oh." I glanced at his heavily scarred and tattooed hands. "Oh."

He nodded. "Word of mouth sold me as a trainer. A few winning fighters later and I had my business."

"But all this?" I gestured around his luxurious home. "It didn't come from fighting then?"

"No."

"Well then how did you make your money?"

Ivan dared to stroke my knee. His rough, callused palm rasped my skin. "It's better you don't ask that question."

His remark sent up a red flag but the sensation of his big, strong hand gliding over my leg left me unable to concentrate on it. All I could think about was the feeling of his warm skin on mine. I was so used to the soft hands of guys who worked in retail or office settings. There was something primal about Ivan's touch.

"Do I frighten you, Erin?" His fingertips trailed along my outer thigh.

I shivered under his feather-light touch. "Not really."

"No?"

I shook my head. "I think beneath all this," I gestured to his tattoos and scars, "you're probably the sweetest man I've ever met."

He snorted with amusement. "I wouldn't go that far."

"How far are you going to go?" It was a bold question to ask but I had to know.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. His hand moved to my inner thigh but he didn't go higher than the bottom of the boxers. I sensed he warred with himself to keep his hand there, just there, and not any closer to that most intimate part of me.

Remembering our conversation at the gym, I asked, "Is this what you want for payment? For helping me?"

His gaze snapped to mine. The pained look on his face left me breathless. "No. I would never disrespect you in that way."

He started to pull his hand away but I squeezed my knees together and trapped it. My stomach wobbled with anticipation and excitement. "And what if I wanted you to?"

His lips twitched. "What if you wanted me to disrespect you?"

I thumped his forearm with my fingers. "You know what I mean. What if I wanted you?"

He grinned mischievously. "Wanted me to what?"

Now he was just playing with me. "Ivan…"

He sat forward and slid one muscled arm around my waist. His other hand cupped the back of my neck. Eye to eye with him, I held my breath. His heat and strength penetrated and enveloped me. Even with everything going on outside this room, I'd never felt safer.

"Be careful what you ask for, Erin," Ivan warned. "I'm not the kind of man to walk away from something I want." His thumb caressed the side of my neck. "One taste of you and I won't be able to let you go."

His warning did little to dissuade me. Instead I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his in a chaste kiss. A moment later, he growled, the sound so low and rumbling, that I shivered. Gathering me close, Ivan plundered my mouth, his tongue stabbing between my lips. I wound my arms around his neck and held on tight. He kissed me until I was dizzy and shuddering. Whatever concerns he'd harbored about getting involved with me were reduced to ashes by the passion flaming brightly between us.

I couldn't believe how different it felt to kiss Ivan. There was nothing awkward or uncertain in the way he captured my mouth, branding me with his insistent kisses. He knew what he wanted—and that was me. His skilled lips and tongue drove me wild as they ghosted along my jaw and down my neck. I cried out when he bit down gently on the fleshy spot where my neck curved into my collarbone. The sharp sensation traveled right down to my throbbing clit.

"Take this off," Ivan urged, his big hand jerking on the shirt I'd borrowed. "I have to see you. I have to touch you."

I grasped the bottom of the shirt and pulled it up and over my head. Ivan snatched away the shirt and tossed it on the floor. He stared at my naked breasts, his hungry gaze searing me and leaving me trembling. Those rough hands of his caressed my bare skin. He palmed my breasts and brushed his thumbs across my nipples. The dusky peaks drew tight to hard points.