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“Thank you, Gina,” I mutter, grabbing the package of bacon and a carton of eggs. I make a mental note to pick up ingredients for blueberry pancakes the next time I’m out and start preparing an omelet. I scrounge up a potato for hash browns and grab my phone from where I left it on the counter last night. Finding my favorite ‘80s playlist, I turn it up as loud as I dare and get to work.

I’m almost finished with breakfast and really rocking it out to Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” when I hear a deep laugh from behind me. Spinning around, I let out a gasp and nearly drop the spatula in my hand.

“Oh my God, you scared me,” I say with a laugh.

“Want me to go back to bed and leave you and Billy alone?” He arches a brow at me, and the man looks too damn sexy for just having woken up. His hair is a bit disheveled, the beard a little more scruffy, and all he’s wearing is a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, probably because I snatched the shirt this morning, and all I want to do is go right back to bed with him.

“Nice shirt,” he says, slowly running his eyes over me, eyeing the matching plaid shirt I’m wearing. It doesn’t take long before he’s crossed the room and is standing in front of me, pressing his lips to mine and running his hand up the shirt to cup my bare ass. He kisses me slowly, taking his time and savoring me like it’s been days since he tasted me instead of hours. By the time he pulls back, I’m smiling like an idiot and feeling a little dazed. He runs his thumb over my dimple and gives my ass a good squeeze.

Looking behind me, his eyes soften as they meet mine again. “You made me breakfast?”

“Yes. I mean, I’m eating some too,” I say with a laugh, “but I mainly made it for you.”

“You’re perfect, you know that? You’re beautiful, amazing in bed, you love to cook, and you have amazing taste in music.”

“You like ‘80s music?” I ask, surprised and unable to picture this gorgeous man enjoying some Depeche Mode or Blondie.

“It’s all I really listen to,” he admits, shocking the hell out of me.

“We’re going to have to have an ‘80s movie night marathon very, very soon.”

He laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

I smile and make him a plate, piling it on high because I’m guessing he needs a ton of calories. He pours us a couple of glasses of orange juice and we sit down at the counter again to eat. I’m amazed at how comfortable this all feels. I keep waiting for it to get awkward or to feel out of place, but it doesn’t, and I don’t. It feels like I was always meant to be here.

“I want to help you with your club.” He finishes his last bite and starts to work on the dishes. “If you’ll let me, that is,” he adds, giving me a wink. “I’ve seen the work you’ve done on it, and you should be damn proud of yourself. If you let me help, we should be able to get it up and running in just a few weeks.”

“Thanks. I’d love that.”

Not too long ago, I would’ve insisted on doing it all on my own, but now I’m just grateful for the help and for getting to spend more time with him.

“Great. I’ve got a few things to do at the Wolf, but it shouldn’t take me long. I can meet you over there this afternoon to get started.”

Over the next few days, we fall into an easy routine. We get up early and work out together, and even though I could technically use the club’s locker room to shower afterwards, Nikolai about had a stroke at the idea of some guy accidentally walking in on me, so we’ve been using the bathroom in the apartment upstairs, which inevitably turns into a quickie, or a not-so-quickie, and then he’ll hang around the clubs to get some work done while I drive over to mine to get started. He meets up with me in the afternoon and we work for a few hours before going back to his house. It’s perfect, and I never knew it was possible to be so damn happy.

After a long day of getting the club’s office all set up, since it’s no longer being used as my bedroom, we decide to head to the Arctic Fox for a quick supper. I try to tamper down the thrill that runs through me when we bypass the huge line outside the club and I get to walk in on Nikolai’s arm, but I can’t help it. I know I’m not defined by my man, but there’s no denying it makes me feel special to see the way other women look at the man who’s madly in love with me. I don’t gloat in it, but I also don’t refuse to let myself enjoy it. I welcome the feel-good vibes it gives me and smile up at him when he opens the door for me and leads me in.

The place is packed, and I love how Nikolai immediately presses the palm of his hand against my lower back in a possessive move that keeps me close to him but also lets everyone else know we’re together. The music pulses around us, competing with the raised voices of those who are trying to keep a conversation going and the occasional rowdy cheer when someone downs a shot. At the bar, Nikolai gives our order to Natalya who gives me a wink and a big smile before sauntering off to pour some drinks for a group of women who are clearly out celebrating something.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I say, leaning in close so he can hear me.

He kisses my cheek and says, “Okay, I’ll wait here for you. Hurry back.”

I smile and slip back into the crowd. After waiting in line for what feels like an eternity, I finally get my turn and am just making my way back to the bar when I run into Miniskirt. She’s looking much the same as she did the first night I saw her, meaning very little clothing and a pissed-off, snotty look that appears to just be the norm with her. I try to go around her, but she steps in front of me and points a long nail at me.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asks, and the vocal fry in her voice has me gritting my teeth.

“I’m walking back to the bar,” I say, noticing how her posse of girlfriends have positioned themselves right behind her. If they’re trying to intimidate me, they’re in for a big disappointment. It’s going to take a lot more than cleavage and too-much foundation to scare me.

“I mean withhim,” she snarls at me.

“With Nikolai?” I’m starting to lose my patience with this shit, and I’m pretty sure my expression shows it, but Miniskirt doesn’t back down.

“Yes, with Nikolai. You heard me talking about how I wanted him, and I know he wants me too, so you need to back the fuck off.” She runs her eyes over me like I’m barely worth her time and adds, “I can’t believe he’d ever be interested in you anyway.”

Before I can laugh or punch her or maybe both, Nikolai cups the back of my neck and leans down, caressing my throat with his thumb while he kisses me slowly and deeply and makes me forget about everything except what his talented mouth is doing. When he pulls back, he gives me a smile and says, “I love you. Don’t you dare let some asshole make you doubt that.”

“Hey,” Miniskirt says, sounding like she can’t believe what in the hell just happened. “What about that night you led me to the back?”


Tags: Sonja Grey Erotic