Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(64)

I put the car in a Park and yank the emergency brake. “Pulling up now.”

I get to the front steps to the Greystone and into the foyer before Alek sees me. He looks me all up and down, his eyes settling on the bullet hole in my jeans.

“Is that it?”

I test my weight on my leg, and it is not a big deal. He just winged me, just right through the muscle and out the other side. I'll be fine.

“Yeah, you want to get me to the bathroom?”

Alek rolls his eyes at me. “Oh my God, you're such a pussy!”

“Well, he did shoot me.”

“Yeah, but not very much! I mean look —”

And then she screams. Marie stumbles in from the kitchen with her hands out, her eyes wide and white all around.





CHAPTER 18


MARIE

And look, here's my husband, bleeding all over my foyer!

He’s standing mostly on one leg with the puddle spreading slowly from beneath his left heel. When he sees me, his mouth opens like he's trying to make excuses for the mess he is making. It is a huge fucking mess.

“In the bathroom, now! Right now!”

Alek takes him under one shoulder, rolling his eyes like Roman just stubbed his toe or something. He gets into the bathroom of the top of the stairs while I tried to find as much gauze and bandages as humanly possible.

“Get his pants off!”

“Well, since you asked so nice…”

But he does it anyway. Roman leans back on the counter as Alek peels the bloodsoaked denim from his body. I grab a handful of gauze and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and start trying to see what I can see.

“Grit your teeth or something. This is going to hurt,” I explain.

“It doesn't hurt,” he growls.

Whatever. If he's going to be like that about it, then fine. I just flip the cap off of the hydrogen peroxide and start dumping it everywhere. When he arches his back and flexes his stomach muscles, I can't help but smirk to myself a little bit.

“Is it okay? Did it go through?” Alek asks in a voice that's probably more concerned than he wants me to think he is.

I dab gingerly at the little hole in the front of his leg and the bigger hole in the back. Looks like it traveled through just a couple inches of skin, and the sensation of relief is overwhelming. I’m not sure if I want to kiss him or throw up on him.

“Yeah, right through,” I assure him.

“See?” Roman challenges.

“Yeah, yeah. I do see, and you are a pussy,” Alek says.

“Seriously, guys, both of you just shut the fuck up.”

The thick, sticky blood keeps burbling up, but if I press on the wound it seems to be staunching remarkably quickly. I hold pressure on it for about a minute and then gently peek underneath to see if it's still going to bubble up like a coffee percolator or something. But nothing. Apparently Russians have tar for blood.

Satisfied, I get a couple of fresh gauze squares and a bandage. I’m pretty sure I can wrap this up now. But as I nudge his knees apart to stand in between, I see something else. That looks like… Well I'm not entirely sure what that is?

I look up at him and he gives me sort of a mildly apologetic shrug. Then his eyes start to burn as he stares at me intently, maybe watching what I'm going to do.

Slowly, I dare myself to look at it again. It's unmistakable. All he’s got on are cotton knit jockey shorts and beneath that... a swelling, thick hard on. Amazing.

As I slowly unroll the bandage to hold the gauze in place, I brush near it. The hem of my top grazes the top of his thigh, and he arches his back as though I burned him.

“I hurt you!?” I yell.

“No… You didn't hurt me,” he says in a low voice. He's breathing quickly, his chest heaving, the sculpted muscles of his torso flexing with every breath. I'm not sure if it's pain from the wound, some other pain, or something else.

“Okay… Okay…” I say uncertainly. I glance at Alek who’s peering at me curiously, knuckling his chin. He wants to see what I'm going to do.

But I don't know what I'm going to do. As I roll the gauze around, I bump into Roman's hip and he flinches back again.

“Okay, I know that one hurt you! I'm sorry!”

“It didn't hurt me!” he snarls. “It doesn't hurt, okay? Can you just hurry up please?”

“It doesn't hurt?”

He shakes his head slowly, his lips pressed together in a tight frown.

Alek steps silently behind me and dips his head toward my ear. “It doesn't hurt him.”

“Then what?” I say, afraid to ask.

“He's just… He gets like this. After a job.”

Realization dawn on me. He’s aroused? From the job? There’s something about that fact that’s simultaneously disgusting and sexy as hell.