Page 69 of Twisted Cage

Those soft, full breasts rise with her furious breaths. Her sexy molten eyes flash with frustration, knowing she can’t do anything here, but promising future violence. A vicious snarl only we can hear escapes her gritted teeth.

Ah, there she is… my formidable little killer.

“Husband hunting, are we?”

24

NIKOLETTA

“This is new.” I trace my fingertips over the tattoo along the side of Logan Rhodes’ head, the bold colors obscured a bit by his short-cropped hair. He barely resembles the man I remember from three years ago.

Then, he was an All-American golden boy with a clean-shaven face, baby-blue eyes, and a smile that could charm the panties off a nun.

But the man holding me now, he’s none of those things. His hair is neat, a little longer on top, but slicked off to the side, neat and clean, the way he’d always worn it, but that’s where the similarities end.

His baby blues, now ice-cold, narrow a bit more when he looks at you. New creases bracket his mouth, disappearing behind the short beard and mustache dotted with premature gray. He’s harder. Edgier. The tattoos are only the beginning of the changes.

He glides his thumb along my cheek, the gesture loaded with a sweet affection that has me leaning into him for a reprieve from the constant tension of being under Konstantin’s watchful eye. He smiles down at me, a hint of easy laughter in his voice. “Not quite the clean-cut guy you remember, huh?”

“Oh, I think he’s still there. He’s just on the inside now. What made you get the ink?” I tip my head to where the butterfly and grenade tattoo disappear under his collar. “A ton of ink, by the looks.”

Dancing with Logan is exactly what I need right now. I know the eligible men here are my best option, but they’re all leaving me bored, with emptiness gnawing away in the pit of my stomach. The life looming before me with any of them is so stunningly sterile. Every move and countermove for appearances. A life sentenced to empty pretenses.

The victory I thought I’d feel making Konstantin watch me move on without him is elusive and hollow.

“It makes it easier to slide in and out of dangerous places, if you know what I mean. Tattoos used to make people leery. Now, and in this society, not having them has the same effect.”

I squeeze him a bit harder and lean my head on his chest. “People leery of you, no way.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. And your brother has me going on a special assignment. Clean-cut won’t cut it.”

He takes me into his embrace; the way we’re dancing is almost improper in its intimacy, but right now, not that I’d ever admit it, I just need a hug and this is as close as I’ll get.

How did I live like this for years? Living a glittering, yet anesthetized existence.

“So tell me, Nik, you haven’t been settling for mediocre, right?”

Konstantin’s name burns on my skin. Fury sweeps through me at the reckless move, a last burst of feeling igniting this insatiable yearning to live boldly.

The handful of kisses, the one time he’d been inside of me, just scratch the surface of the man’s capabilities. God help me, I yearn to discover every layer of him. I agonize every moment of what we could be if there was a way through everything dividing us. This hum of energy buzzing between us draws us in despite every deadly reason we should stay away. Every minute, every second, pulsing with the undiscovered euphoria of two damaged pieces who defy all logic to make one perfectly imperfect whole.

If I could just heal the heart he broke. Even if I can, what if he breaks it again? The pain would be insurmountable a second time around.

“I haven’t been settling, but then, it looks like I will be now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They’re all too polished. Too practiced at saying just the right thing. Their actions are less about what they’re actually doing and more about how they look doing it. I’m finding polished men with money and power bore me to tears.”

His arms tighten around me for the briefest second. “I told him you’d never find someone who could do you justice here. But the alternative…”

“I know. I know it’s the smart thing to do. I just… if I’m going to make this work, I have to bury the woman I’ve become.” My breath hitches. “And I kind of like her. For once, I like her. She’s not a product of what others want her to be. She’s just… me. I’m losing me to be me—I don’t know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He hooks his finger around a lock of hair brushing my eyebrow and sweeps it away before it can get in my eyes. “Pretend you can have anyone you want. Petrov isn’t hovering on the fringes waiting to assuage his pride. Maksim and Vlad, they’re never leaving Russia again… and Nikolaj is not preparing to go to war with them for control over New York City. Who’s the guy?”

I can’t help the way my eyes search for Konstantin. Even though he’s the only man who truly ever hurt me, although he’s suffocating me, the powerful connection between us draws me to him at every turn.

My secrets bubble discreetly to the tip of my tongue. I step into Logan until my mouth is just a couple inches from his ear and paint my strikingly abstract masterpiece in the barest whisper. “He’s unpolished and mysterious. I know everything about him, yet nothing at all. He’s ruled by an infectious, inexhaustible passion I can’t help but be drawn to until I’m addicted to his chaos.”