Give me a cold, dark cell occupied by five men who wanted to kill me, and I would make pancakes out of it. But give me that, and I didn’t know what else to do with it except fuck it. I’d yet to get there, so, admittedly, I was a little out of my element.
My phone pinged, and, welcoming the distraction, I grabbed it to read the message.
Nadia: I haven’t seen you in so long. Don’t you miss me?
I missed sex, that was for damn sure.
Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I lifted my gaze to see Pavel approach Mila. The kid rubbed the back of his neck and said something. It looked like he was trying out some English on her. It was probably awful. She would never tell him.
Nadia: Come over tonight. I will make you dinner . . . and dessert.
Me: Polina is a better cook.
Nadia: Does she suck cock better too?
Me: Give me a minute, and I’ll find out.
I would never go there with my cook, but an irrational buzz played beneath my skin and spread further each second.
Nadia:
Nadia: What about your American? Does she know how to get you off as well as I do?
My teeth clenched. I didn’t like Nadia even mentioning Mila.
Nadia: I bet she doesn’t.
Glancing up, I saw Pavel blush. The kid with an AK-47 slung to his chest.
Nadia: What’s wrong with you lately? I apologized about that last incident . . .
“That incident” was the last time I saw her, when she trashed her dressing room in a jealous rage because I didn’t take her up on her note offering a quick blow job during intermission.
Nadia: I slept with someone last night.
Me: I’m shocked.
I wasn’t.
Nadia: He went down on me.
Nadia: It was nice for once . . .
She acted like she was deprived, but I knew she received oral from men and women alike—and often. She just wanted to see me on my knees. I’d rather put my dick through a meat grinder.
Pavel stepped closer to show Mila something, his thumb and forefinger holding a chain around his neck. She shied away from his gun as if simply standing near it would make it go off. He’d noticed her necklace and was now showing off his. How cute.
Nadia: Ronan . . .
Mila was all smiles, probably speaking fondly of her sadistic papa to the only one here who would listen—and only then because he wanted to get his dick wet. The scene was beginning to annoy the fuck out of me.
I wasn’t doing a single thing, but I really didn’t have time for this.
I knocked on the glass. When both of their gazes flicked to me, I gave Pavel a treacherous look. He swallowed, said something curt to Mila, and walked off, leaving my muddy captive to glare at me alone. Her transparent eyes must be poisonous. A single look from her pierced my chest and spread something heavy and greedy throughout.
My gaze told her, Get inside right now.
Her silent response wasn’t important because it didn’t include a hint of “submit,” “slave,” or “anal.” Mila’s glare intensified before she complied and walked toward the front of the house.