Page 97 of Darkest Deeds
“See, that’s the kind of mentality it takes to work for me,” he says matter-of-factly.
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline, and when he doesn’t say anything, I let out a nervous laugh. “Are you offering me a job, Arthur?”
“Depends,” he says, lifting a graying eyebrow. “Would you accept?”
“While I appreciate the vote of confidence, I’ll have to decline. The Tabella Della Morte was Niko’s world, not mine.”
“It’s a good thing I wasn’t offering, then.” He takes another slow drink as the car slows to a stop. “I’ll assume you’ll still be upholding your end of the deal.”
I dip my chin. “All Cavalieri names have been wiped from the FBI database.”
A non-negotiable parting gift I required from Dunning to ensure he has some skin in the game. You don’t grow up as the daughter of a Russian mob boss and not learn a thing or two.
“Well, it seems you’re one of the few who have my number now,” he says, a glint in his eye. Dagger opens my door, and as I start to move, Arthur firmly grasps my elbow. “Use it wisely, Miss Chernova.”
I smile, his words igniting the first spark of life inside me since I left Florida. “Right back at you, Calthorpe.”
Without another word, I drag myself out of the limo, and walk toward a sleek jet a few feet in front of me. Arthur never said the words, but he didn’t have to. I know the private plane is for me, and I know it’s headed back to Miami-Opa Locka. He never expected me to take him up on his offer. I suppose it was his way of letting me know that regardless of all that has happened, he respects me.
And Arthur Calthorpe respects no one.
Yet again, I’m shielding my body from the wind as I make my way across the tarmac toward the airstairs attached to the plane. My hands shake as I hold onto the railing and climb toward freedom.
The sound of planes taking off in the distance roars in my ears as I cross the threshold into the cabin. Taking a deep breath, I push my windblown hair out of my face and tuck it behind my ears. As far as private jets go, Arthur Calthorpe spared no expense. The inside looks like something out of a magazine—more extravagant than most people’s homes.
The flooring is a plush black and gray square pattern, and to my left is a long hallway with an oversized white leather couch on one side and two reclining white chairs on the other. Two tables, three mini-bars, and a huge flat screen television complete the setup. My entire apartment could fit inside the damn thing.
I let out a low whistle. “Well, fuck me.”
“Tempting, but I’d prefer to wait until we’re in the air first.”
The voice to the left of me is gravelly and rough. A voice that both feels like a punch in the gut and a kickstart to the heart all at the same time. Gripping the jacket even tighter, I slowly turn to face him.
In one single glance, my world stops, starts, tilts, spins, then rights itself. He’s sitting in a white chair, his inked fingers gripping the armrests, and his eyes holding mine without remorse.
My pulse races at the sight of the midnight black hair that dips over one aluminum gray eye, and a heavier beard hiding even more of the scar I know every detail behind. My stomach flips as I stare at the lips that devastate me with kisses one minute, then acid words the next.
He’s rough. He’s jaded. He’s deceptively charming.
He’s alive, and he’s all mine.
“Niko.” His name is barely out of my mouth before I’m on him, straddling his lap, my hands cradling his face as I pour everything I have left into a heated kiss. His lips taste like home and I’m not ashamed to demand more, rubbing against his growing erection until he groans. Our tongues clash in a war of dominance, and I continue grinding on him until he places a hand on my lower back, stilling my movement.
“Forty-one thousand feet,” he says, his voice rough as he pulls me back a little. Letting out a ragged breath, he lets go of my ass to adjust himself. “Enjoy the calm now, because when we’re at forty-one thousand feet, the only thing you’ll be doing until Miami is riding my cock.”
“Is that right?”
“Damn right it is. And none of this panties to the side shit.” He pulls the jacket off my shoulders and slides the straps of my tank top down. “All this is coming off, Ava. I want to see my name when I’m inside you.”
I shudder, his forceful words sending a rush of warmth between my legs. With the image freshly painted in my mind, I blow out a slow breath and nod, sliding my hands from his face, down to his neck, and finally coming to rest on his shoulders.
Niko sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck!”
My eyes snap open at the pain in his voice. It’s only then that I see the sling around his arm and his shoulder wrapped in tons of gauze and surgical tape. “Oh God!” I say, gingerly grazing my fingertips around the edges. “I forgot about…oh God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t…”
Niko grabs me around the waist with his good arm before I can move. “Yes, you should have, and hell yes, we should. And we will. My shoulder may be hurt, but there’s not a damn thing wrong with my cock. It works just fine, thanks.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Still, I’m sorry for shooting you.”