Page 7 of Demetri
With Victor flanking my left, I hold my stance. Glory and I hold each other's stare. A brief look of uncertainty crosses her face; one that says she's tempted to flee. I shake my head; warning her not to. In true Glory fashion, she squares her shoulders and continues toward me.
"Well, hello, asshole," she sasses, coming to stand in front of me. "What brings you to Chicago? More importantly, why are you perched outside my apartment?"
Unfazed by her verbal tongue lashing, I chuckle. "I had business to handle, and now, I'm taking you to breakfast."
"Thanks, but no thanks. I have my breakfast here," she says, holding up her bags, "and my breakfast companion is waiting on me upstairs," Glory smiles smugly.
Giving Victor a signal, he strides over to Glory, taking the bags from her hands and places them in the trunk of the car. "I'm sure Bo can do without you for a bit," I say, putting my hand on the small of her back, ushering her into the backseat.
Once we're in the car, Glory huffs and glares at me. "You're so fucking bossy."
Leaning back in my seat, I level her with a heated gaze. "Keep talking to me with that filthy mouth of yours,Krasivaya; it only makes me harder." At my confession, I see Glory's eyes cut down toward my crotch and my apparent hard on causes her eyes to widen. Realizing she's ogling my dick, she snaps her head up and meets my gaze once again, and I grin. Giving me another nasty look, she rolls her eyes then turns to look out the window. Glory's problem is she wants me, but she doesn't want to.
Arriving at a bistro two blocks from Glory's apartment, one I know is her favorite since she eats breakfast here every Sunday, I place my palm on her hip, pull her into my side and guide her inside. When the host shows us to our table, I pull Glory's chair out and allow her to sit before I too take my seat.
"Hello, my name is Carol. Are you ready to order, or do you need a moment to look over the menu?" the waitress asks.
"That won't be necessary," I say. "The lady will have Duck Confit Hash with water and a Mimosa. I'll have the Eggs Benedict and coffee."
"Very well. I'll be right back with your orders," our waitress chirps.
"I can order my own damn food, Demetri."
"I know you can,Krasivaya. Ordering for you is not me taking anything away from you. I'm taking care of what's mine. You order the same dish every Sunday, so I knew what you wanted. When you're with me, you'll always get what you want."
Sensing the sincerity of my comment, and not bothering to ask how I know so much about her, along with ignoring the fact I just called her mine, Glory decides to change the subject.
"I know you said you were in town on business, but why come see me? Why all of this?" she asks, gesturing around the restaurant. "I get that we have mutual friends, but we haven't seen each other in months. In the time we have known each other, your actions toward me have been all over the place. You're hot one minute then cold the next. Is it because of your past; because of your son Logan and the relationship you—?"
"My past is not up for discussion," I snap cutting Glory off mid-sentence, but immediately regret my outburst when I take in the look of hurt on her face. Her pain is quickly replaced with anger as she stands abruptly, tosses her napkin to the table then storms out of the restaurant. "Fuck," I hiss getting to my feet. Throwing a few bills on the table, I go after her. By the time I exit the restaurant, she is already halfway down the sidewalk heading back in the direction of her apartment, and I take off after her. "Follow behind in the car, Victor," I call over my shoulder. Once I've caught up to Glory, I stay about three strides behind her.
"Stop fucking following me, dickhead!" she growls.
"No," I say evenly and continue to follow her into her apartment building, onto the elevator, and down the hall to her front door.
Turning on her heels, a heaving, red-faced Glory jabs her finger into my chest. "I don't know why you showed up here today, and I don't know what kind of twisted, fucked-up mind games you're trying to play, but you can't—"
Before she gets a chance to finish her tirade, I grab hold of her wrist, push her back against the door, and pin her arm above her head. Taking my right hand, I grab a fist full of her long auburn hair and pull her head back — slightly exposing her neck. Glory's breath hitches, and I notice her hard nipples protruding through her top. Taking one step further into her personal space, I shove my knee between her legs; allowing my hard cock to brush against her heated center. Before Glory can utter another word, I crash my mouth down on hers.
4
Glory
Demetri's hand fisted in my hair delivers equal parts pain as it does pleasure. I gasp at the sting to my scalp, which allows him to take advantage of my parted lips as he delves his tongue inside my mouth. The bite of pain Demetri rewards me with overrides my pissed off attitude and replaces it with hunger. Demetri being the cocky bastard he is, knows I crave the dominance and pain. Notably, by the way my body is ignoring the logical part of my brain that wants to fight this infuriating man. The man whose leg I am currently grinding myself against. My pussy is a traitor, and I'm not even ashamed. She does tend to have a mind of her own.
If someone had told me when I woke up this morning that I'd be dry humping Demetri Volkov in the hallway of my apartment today, I would have said they were out of their fucking mind. The only thing not shocking about this situation is the Russian can kiss. Fuck he can kiss. I should have known the son of a bitch was going to deliver. His taste alone is intoxicating — Demetri tastes of mint with a hint of cigar. Now, usually, smoking is a deal breaker for me, but tasting it on Demetri is my new addiction. Like a junkie needing their next fix, I deepen the kiss. But the second I try to take control, Demetri snakes his hand up between our bodies and wraps his large hand around my neck, giving it a light squeeze. His actions are a warning that he's the one in control.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it because I do. Demetri seems to know exactly what I want; what I need without me having to speak. My whole adult life, I have wanted a man who wasn't afraid to take control. One who wasn't intimidated by the kind of woman I am. Let's face it. I'm a bitch. I'm loud and opinionated. I have no filter, and at times, I am difficult to put up with. The men I have bedded in the past, not one of them has been able to handle me in the way I need; the way I crave…until Demetri. And all without me having to say a single word. As much as I want to deny it, deep down, I knew it would be like this. I knew if this moment ever happened, it would be explosive. The problem is I know Demetri has the power to destroy me. I knew he'd be able to give me what I have craved for so long but also have the ability to take it away. I'm not sure I'm willing to take that risk.
As if he knows where my mind is going, Demetri breaks our kiss. "That would never happen,Krasivaya." He says vehemently, his accent sounding stronger than it did minutes ago.
Still trying to catch my breath, I stay silent and give him a look that says I don't believe him. His gaze is unrelenting as his eyes bore into my soul, reading every single thought I possess. With his palm still wrapped around my neck, he gives it a slight squeeze. "From this moment on, everything changes. You. Are. Mine. So, get those thoughts out of that gorgeous head of yours. Trust me,Krasivaya."
"I don't know if I can," I admit finally finding my voice and I'm surprised at how strong it sounds considering his words scare me.
A throat clearing from behind Demetri brings us out of our fog. Demetri doesn't take his eyes off me as he answers the man standing over his shoulder. "Yes, Victor?"
"I have Miss Keller's bags."
