Page 58 of On Ice

“Will do, boss.”

“And get her coat cleaned for her. Luigi would want us to take care of her. I think she’s that blonde chick he’s always talking about. Brenda? Beatrice? I can’t remember, but I think he actually likes her.”

“Okay.” Sammy nods. “I’ll see that she’s got everything she needs.”

Sammy leaves me and as much as I try to focus on the scene, my thoughts keeps slipping back to Evan. He’s a distraction I don’t need right now, but I’m frustrated we got interrupted. He tasted just as good as I remembered. I let out a shaky breath as memories of his warm, moist mouth nudge me. How we ended up making out, I’m not sure. One minute we were arguing and the next he had his beautiful mouth on mine. I was surprised he kissed me first, but I sure as fuck wasn’t going to complain about it. If Matteo hadn’t interrupted us, I’d have taken Evan right there up against that wall. He was more than willing. I shiver. I was cockblocked by the fucking Kovalev syndicate. Just one more reason to hate the bastards.

I glance up at the surrounding buildings, looming like sentinels. The restaurant’s back door hangs crooked on its hinges, splintered from the firefight. Above, fire escapes zigzag against the night sky, metal stairs leading to dark windows where I know people are watching, too afraid to show themselves.

My phone vibrates. It’s a text from Matteo, letting me know he’s got Evan back in his room, cuffed to the bed. That visual sends a wave of dirty thoughts searing through my brain. I’d love nothing more than to finish up here and go home to pick up where I left off with Evan. Would he be up for that? He certainly seemed open to the idea of sex when we were in Mama’s art room. He was all in. Just like I was.

Focus. I need to focus.

I can deal with Evan when I get home. Right now, I need to handle the Kovalev syndicate situation. The guy who shot Luigi will have to pay with his life. That isn’t negotiable. Luigi isn’tjust a grunt. He’s been with us since my father’s time. He’s a loyal, solid solider. He’s a real character too. He’s loud and he jokes a lot. He’s been married four times already, and something tells me that blonde woman he was with tonight might be wife number five before long.

I shiver when rain starts falling again, light enough to mist the air. It’s going to be a very long night. Once the last shooter is handled, I’ll need to meet with Sergei Kovalev. My father was friends with his father and because of that relationship, I’ve been lenient with Sergei. I don’t want to kill Sergei unless there’s no other way, but something needs to change.

My initial impulse is to find Sergei and beat him within an inch of his life. But one thing dealing with Evan has taught me is that not all men respond to intimidation well. Yeah, I could threaten Sergei and rough him up, but from what I’ve seen, the guy will just be more determined to come back at me.

What might work better is to give him some incentive to leave Seabrooke. I think I understand Sergei. He’s trying to break free of his father’s shadow. That’s something I understand all too well. He’s frustrated and wants more money and power so he can establish himself as a leader. While I can’t let him have that here in Seabrooke, I can give him that somewhere else.

I have some casinos in Charles Bay, a city a hundred miles north of Seabrooke. I’m thinking if I offer those to Sergei, he might be willing to leave Seabrooke. He’d be a fool not to take the offer. He’d get established gambling operations he wouldn’t have to build from scratch, and immediate revenue. I’d get rid of properties that are hard to manage and protect from a distance. All he’d need to do is give me a small percentage of his profits as a nominal punishment for his recent behavior. It’s a win-win for both of us. I’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t go for it.

It’s a similar approach to how I plan on handling Evan. I want to take away something he hates, the throwing of hockey games, and offer him something he wants, like protection for his team and his family. In return, I want more of him. I don’t want the story of him being my lover to be fiction. I want it to be reality, an exchange for the things I’ll give him. It’s a quid pro quo of sorts. I wouldn’t even consider something like this if I didn’t know how much he wants me too. But he does want me, so this arrangement should be fun for both of us.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to tell Evan my plans tonight because he attacked me the minute I walked into his room. I touch the wound on my head and let out a gruff laugh. I’m annoyed by his boldness but also impressed that he tried something so risky. I need to stop underestimating Evan. He’s not as brutal as me, but he’s also not a little helpless lamb.

Which only makes me want him more.

****

It’s 3:00 a.m. by the time I get home. I’m exhausted, but pleased with how things turned out. Sergei went for the deal I offered with barely disguised enthusiasm. I’m sure he expected me to come in, guns blazing. While that was a tempting idea, considering his attack on Luigi, ultimately, the bargain I struck with him makes more sense for both of us.

My success with Sergei gives me hope that negotiations with Evan will go equally as well. I hope so. The little taste I had of him this evening has me craving more. Since I’m no longer going to ask his team to throw games, I’m removing the one major obstacle to Evan sleeping with me. At least, that’s how I see it. I suppose we’ll see if Evan agrees.

I need sleep, but I feel compelled to talk to Evan now. We need to figure things out ASAP because his little escape attempt shows he’s becoming desperate. Plus, I had Matteo cuff him to his bed, so he’s probably seething and not sleeping. But first, I need to wash up. I never tended to the wound on my head. I pass Evan’s room, excitement niggling at me, and go to take a quick shower.

Once the blood is washed away, I examine the cut on my head. There’s a bump, but it’s a superficial wound. I still have a pounding headache though. Evan clocked me pretty good. I take some headache medication and then go to the door that connects my room to Ethan’s. I’m excited to see him, but realize he won’t feel the same. Despite him putting his tongue in my mouth, he’s still going to fight me. He’s confused and unhappy about his attraction to me, but it’s there whether he likes it or not.

His room is dark when I enter, but there’s a full moon tonight and slivers of silvery light cross the foot of the bed. I can make out the dark shape of Evan’s broad shoulders against the headboard, and his knees appear to be pulled up to his chest. He’s not asleep, I know that because I can feel his angry stare the minute I enter his room.

“I hope you’re here to get these damn cuffs off of me,” he says in a gravelly voice.

“I am.” I reach him and flick on the nightstand lamp. “If you promise to behave.”

He winces at the sudden light. “There’s that wordbehaveagain,” he mutters. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes very green in the lamplight. His body is angled awkwardly because of his cuffed wrist, and he does not look happy. “You act like I’m the only one who isn’t playing nice.”

“I want to be nice to you.” I grab the little key out of my pocket hold it up for him to see. “But you’re not making it easy. Promise you won’t try and hit me over the head again if I unhook you?”

He hesitates. “I promise.”

I lean closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent. It’s risky getting this close to him because he still has one hand free. But he doesn’t make any move against me, although his breathing picks up at my nearness. I have to squash a smile. He wants to hate me, but he just can’t stop his physical reaction to me. That’s a good thing. Since he wants me as much as I want him, this plan of mine should work.

Once his hand is free, I straighten. He gives me a surly glance as he rubs his wrist. I set the handcuffs on the nightstand, and perch on the end of his bed. He watches me warily, still rubbing his wrist. I allow him time to calm down, and only speak once he seems less furious.

“I’m sorry I had to cuff you,” I say. “But I had stuff to deal with and couldn’t risk you making a break for it again.”

“I gather one of your men got shot?” He doesn’t exactly look sympathetic, but I can tell the violence bothers him.

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