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"In a time of trouble, I was a ready resource. Aleksandr saw that I could be an ally, and that I hold no true malice toward him."

"I don't understand why you would. Just because he left home?"

"It's not a pretty story. One best told at another time." He pinned me with his gaze. "Are you having second thoughts about this weekend?"

"I recall having first thoughts, but was a victim of your 'persuasion.' "

His lids went heavy, the bulge in his pants growing. "Don't remind me. I can't touch that memory without getting hard as a rock." He exhaled. "Too late. Have you ever been fucked in a plane?"

"No," I said breathlessly. "But I think I'm about to be. . . ."

CHAPTER 27

"How goddamned quaint," Maxim grated as we wandered through our suite.

The space was large and luxurious, with a sizable bathroom and dressing area, but there were some kitschy touches. The mobster looked so out of place in a room with plank wood floors and Quaker quilts. Doilies covered the tops of oak tables.

"Quilts." He smirked. "Charming."

I hopped on the bed, giving him a pouty lip. "Oh, does my baby boy suffer without his Four Seasons?" There'd been a display in the lobby made out of cornstalks and a wide red ribbon. Nothing brought to mind the holidays like cornstalks.

I stretched out and made snow angels on the bed. "Just think, we're going to have to snuggle here for warmth. We'll have to build up friction." I widened my eyes. "To preserve my very life, you'll have to fuck me all night long."

"If I must. But only to save your very life."

A faint motion in the window drew my gaze past him. "Ah! It's snowing!" I leapt up and scrambled to a window seat. I'd seen it everywhere on the ground during our limo ride from the airport to the lodge, but hadn't seen it falling. And I still hadn't been out in it. "Maxim, it is actively snowing." Every now and then, a flake would dance by! "Pero quien sabe por cuanto tiempo?" But who knows for how long? "We have to go before the snowfall stops."

"I'm not sure that would count as snowfall. Once we get changed, I'll take you out--"

I started ripping off my clothes. "When will our bags get up here?"

"Our things are already here."

I tripped in the direction of the dressing room, then yanked open a closet. "All our stuff is unpacked."

"I bring a valet for events. And now we have a maid for you as well. They're currently pressing anything that needs it."

No wonder he always looked impeccable.

"Wear layers," Maxim called. "The waterproof snow gear and warm socks."

"Got it."

In minutes, I'd rifled through my stuff and changed into a red turtleneck, snow-white ski jacket, black ski pants, mittens, and boots. The pants were surprisingly thin and fit like tights. As with all pants on me, they were snug across the back. Fact of life. I had my red scarf, of course, and a cap to match it.

Once I'd dressed, I decided to tease him with my new outfit--just a little. I skipped back to the room. "Hey, Maxim, will you look at something?"

"Hmm?" He was unbuttoning his shirt.

I turned and leaned over the bed, innocently asking, "Do these make my butt look big?"

"You little witch." He lunged for me, but I scampered over the bed. "I don't think you want to leave this room."

"No, no! I'll be good."

He hesitated, then pulled off his shirt, his expression telling me I'd been let off with a warning.

I manned the window. "The sun looks like it's about to come out. Won't the snowflakes go away? Come on, Maxim!"

"You try changing with a raging cockstand," he said, his voice husky. "Those pants of yours aren't even fair."

I turned to him. "I need to touch snow!"

He'd removed his slacks, revealing gray boxer briefs and a very swollen erection. "And clearly"--he waved at his dick--"I need to fuck you. Yet again."

"What we did on the plane barely tided you over?" I'd joined the mile-high club with a scream. Sauntering over to him, I reached down to rub the wet spot on his briefs. "Can you fuck me in the snow?"

"I like the way your mind works, Katya." He swiftly dressed in jeans, a fleece pullover, and a black ski coat.

I grabbed his hand, pulling at him to hurry down the stairs. I'd seen a sign for a "winter wonderland trail" pointing toward the back of the main lodge. "Si me haces perdermela, no te lo perdonare!" If you make me miss this, I'll never forgive you.

He groused, but I could tell he was having fun.

At the exit, I turned back to scold, "Vamos! Apurate, Ruso--"

I ran into a chest. Gazing up, I found a blond giant peering down at me. He had a couple of friends with him. They all looked like Nebraska farm boys. Or possibly Paul Bunyan and his brothers.

"Disculpe. Sorry!" I'd been chattering away, not looking where I was going.

The first one murmured, "Ma'am," with undisguised interest.

Maxim's hand tightened on mine. As we passed the trio, I glanced back to see him giving them a lethal look, which the men didn't notice because they were still gazing at me.

Outside in the courtyard, the Russian seethed. "Those fucking farmers were staring at you? Is it not obvious you're with me?"

"It was my fault for running into them."

He scanned me.

"What?"

"This is going to keep happening."

"No, no! No more locking me up, Ruso. Remember, this Cat's out of the bag. Weren't we going to do a cab sign . . . ?" I trailed off when a flake wafted right in front of my face.

At the edge of the courtyard was a snowy yard, beyond that a vast leafless forest. White drifts piled up against trunks and blanketed limbs. The sun was coming out, but I forgave it; icicles in sunlight were spellbinding, like diamonds on the ocean. "Oh!" I hurried into the yard, and my boots crunched!

Maxim followed me, retrieving black gloves from his pocket.

"It's . . . it's so amazing." It was a winter wonderland.

He frowned, as if we were looking at two different sc

enes. "If you say so." His phone rang.

"Dmitri?" I asked.

"Da. Look around for a bit. I'll try to keep this short." He turned from me to take the call.

His shoulders tensed up, all relaxation gone. As he would say: unacceptable. Scooping up a big handful of snow, I made my very first snowball and beaned him in the back of the head.

He stiffened even more, as if his body disbelieved. A couple of barked words ended his call. He shook out his hair as he turned to me. "Run."

With a laugh, I did, sprinting toward the trees. My heart raced when his footsteps crunched behind me.

I'd just made the tree line when he seized my waist, swinging me up, and we went tumbling into a snowdrift.

"Is that any way to treat your man?" He maneuvered on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head. As I caught my breath, he gazed down at me. "You are so bloody beautiful."

I grinned. "I've seen less handsome men." Amid all this white, the blue of his eyes was even more piercing, his smile even more glorious.

"Have you, then?" He used his free hand to tickle me, making me squeal with laughter.

"I should never have mentioned tickling to you!" I squirmed, trapped.

"As if I wouldn't have found out eventually."

Eventually? How long, how long, how long?

Soon his touches turned less playful. His lips slanted over mine. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss into a thorough taking. . . .

Yet then he broke away.

"Why'd you stop?"

He levered himself to his feet, helping me up. "We have an appointment." He brushed snow off my back, then adjusted his jacket to conceal his erection.

Hand in hand, we started on a path that meandered along the forest's edge. "Where are we going?" We were heading away from the lodge, cresting a small rise.

"Patience, solnyshko."

"What does sol-neesh-kah mean?"

"An endearment. You need to start learning Russian."

I parted my lips. Why would I? Unless? Cool yo jets! Still, I was about to ask him to expand on his comment when I spotted a stable down the hill. The building was enormous, with red painted walls. Corrals flanked it. "Oh! Can we stop at the stable?"

"I suppose."

As we neared, I said, "Am I going to get to pet a horse?" My eyes went wide. "I--can--hear--them, Maxim. I want to pet all the horses!"

He chuckled as he ushered me inside. "You heard them, did you?" The air smelled like oats and leather. "We're going riding."

"En serio?" I clapped my mittens.


Tags: Kresley Cole The Game Maker Erotic