Dark Trade Read online

  This time, he moaned and closed his eyes as she ran her fingers down the soft skin of his shaft.

  She guided him inside her. It surprised him, and his eyes flew open as he sank deep inside her.

  He pulled out and then sank in again, very gently.

  “Hard,” she whispered.

  His eyes widened and his smile was back. He complied with her request and pinned her against the wall with his strength. He fucked her hard, and she welcomed it, thrusting back with her own strength. They were frantic as their bodies moved against each other, rocking in and out so quickly it made her dizzy. She couldn’t get him fast or hard enough. The way her body needed his was primal.

  Waves of pleasure exploded from her core, sending intense pleasure coursing through her body. “Oh, God,” she moaned.

  He came too, moaning as he buried himself impossibly deep inside her while she quivered around him. He rested his head against her chest, breathing heavily.

  He finally raised his head, gently lowering her back to the ground. “I haven’t hurt you, have I?” he asked.

  “No, of course not. Have I hurt you?” she said.

  He cracked one of those rare smiles again. “That remains to be seen.”

  She tested out her feet. Her legs were shaky, and she could tell she was going to be sore tomorrow, but they held her weight when she stood on them. She stood up, pulling her bra back up over her breasts. He watched her and then picked up her blouse and purse to hand them to her.

  He pulled up his pants, but remained shirtless, watching her. “You are a very beautiful woman, Sophia.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled as she re-buttoned her skirt. “I guess I should be glad no one else needed this elevator.”

  “It’s my private elevator,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say because now she was in a state of shock.

  Did I really just do that? Yes, she’d just had sex with him in the elevator only a few days after he’d held her at gunpoint. She wasn’t the type of girl to jump into bed with just anyone, and she certainly wasn’t the type of girl to seek out those who could harm her. For the ten millionth time that day, she questioned her sanity.

  Oh, my God. What have I done? She’d always felt a little cold, even when she loved someone intensely. She had a selfish, mean streak. Maybe that’s who she really was. It was a little fear she’d carried inside herself: that she was bad.

  He punched in a code and the elevator started to move. She quickly tried to smooth her clothes back into place, but since he was still shirtless, and her hair was messy, anyone who saw them would immediately know what they’d been doing.

  He moved closer to her as the elevator doors opened. “There will be no one on this level. Don’t be concerned.” He gently put her hand in his, raised it to his lips for a kiss and then led her out of the elevator.

  They were on the top floor—she could see for miles out the window. They went through another locked, key-coded doorway, and she stepped into what looked like a million-dollar condo.

  Two walls were made entirely of glass, offering a bird’s-eye view of downtown Houston and further on, stretching out toward the greenbelt of Allen Parkway. It was all one room, with a bed on a platform in the middle, a glossy, steel kitchen to one side, and a cluster of very expensive looking furniture on the other. It was a massive space, she guessed at least two thousand square feet.

  “Seriously?” she said. “Private elevators, hidden hallways, and this? Is this even allowed in an office building?”

  He shrugged. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s beautiful and weird. Do you live here?”

  “I sleep here, sometimes.”

  She nodded, walking closer to the window to admire the view. She turned to him, hands on her hips, dropping her purse on the floor. “Do you bring all your conquests here?”

  “I don’t have conquests. You are among a handful of people that will ever know about this space.” He moved closer, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. “Did I please you?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she melted back into him, willingly raising her arms over her head so he could remove her shirt. “Did I please you?” she asked, as his hands worked on the buttons on her skirt.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, “very much. I would like to have you in the bed now.”

  With that, he easily picked her up, laying her gently on the bed. Ever the idiot, she let him. She watched him undress, toned flesh filling in every delicious gap on his body. She should stand up, leave, and never return. She knew that, but she didn’t care.

  He pulled off her poor, torn panties and tossed them aside. His hands were between her thighs first, before he lowered his head to her. He flicked his tongue across her nub and slid two fingers inside her, hitting just the right spot. She was already tired and sated, but soon she was bucking against him, screaming his name as she came apart again.

  He smiled as he shifted on top of her, holding himself up with his arms. He moved inside her, gently at first. He kissed her and then pulled away so he could see her eyes. He held her gaze as his hand swept from her outer thigh, into the curve of her hip, dancing over her ribcage, and cupping her face. He was tender with his hands, but he was rough inside of her.

  They came together. He collapsed beside her, breathing heavily.

  She felt nothing, just a deep sea of bliss that enveloped her. She was calm and peaceful.

  He pulled her onto him, and she rested her head on his chest. Their legs twined together as if they’d shared a bed for years. She registered some shock at his apparent affection, but it quickly disappeared beneath her sea of tranquility. She fell asleep to his fingers stroking up and down her arm, gentle as butterfly wings.

  Chapter 4

  Weak morning light intruded through her eyelids. Her body was sore in a nice way. She rolled over on her back, putting her wrist over her eyes. It took her a moment before she remembered where she was and what she had been doing.

  Oh my fucking God.

  Yes, that’s right. She was in the bed of an international criminal. She had slept with a man that had held her at gunpoint. In fact, she had done many things with him many times in many ways overnight. And now she was waking up in his bed.

  She kept her eyes shut, not ready to deal with the reality that waited for her when she opened them.

  When she finally opened her eyes, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her in the semi-darkness. She hadn’t even heard him breathing.

  “Whoa!” She shot up to a sitting position. “You startled me.”

  “I am sorry for that.” He held out a cup of coffee. “I was just getting ready to wake you.”

  She took the offered coffee with one hand, clutching the blankets up to cover her chest with the other. “Um...” she shook her head, trying to clear the sleep. “What time is it?”

  “Five,” he said. “You need to leave soon.”

  “Oh, yeah. Of course.” She took a drink of her coffee. She was embarrassed of what she’d done with him, and a little resentful that he was kicking her out. Her first one-night stand ever, and it had been with a flipping arms dealer.

  She scooted to the edge of the bed so she could get ready leave. He rested his hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving. “Please understand. It is best if you are not seen with me. It’s safer for you that way. If it were up to me, I would keep you with me. You should leave before it gets too light outside.”

  “Safe?” she echoed.

  “Yes. I am always being watched,” he said. “I don’t want you to be watched, too.”

  “By whom?” she asked.

  “It is best if we discuss this another time. Do not be concerned. I will protect you,” he said.

  What have I gotten myself into? She was afraid, again. She smiled weakly over her coffee cup, not wanting to expose her level of her naivety just yet. She hadn’t realized danger was a factor in her one-night stand.

  He
was watching her again, silently staring.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You are frightened,” he said in Russian.

  “Confused would be a more apt description,” she answered in Russian. He was very observant, and it unnerved her.

  “Please do not worry,” he said.

  She smiled again. It was becoming a nervous tick.

  She put her coffee on the nightstand and rummaged around for her clothes. “Time for the walk of shame,” she said as she pulled them on.

  “Walk of shame?” he asked. “What is that?”

  On top of their criminal/non-criminal divide, there was also a cultural gap. “Oh, it’s just a saying. You know, walking around in your clothes from the night before where everyone can see you. It’s obvious you had sex with someone and now you have to go home in the same clothes. It’s a joke.”

  He smiled. “There will be no shame if no one can see you then.”

  “Well,” she picked up purse, “I am parked two blocks away, so there will be a very quick walk of shame.”

  “Your car has been moved to the parking garage under the building,” he said.

  She pulled on her shoes while she considered that. “How? Did you go through my purse to get my keys?”

  “No. They were next to your purse on the floor. I borrowed them and had one of my men move your car early this morning.”

  She nodded. She had thrown her purse on the floor yesterday, so it was likely the keys had spilled out.

  “Are you upset? It was my intention to help,” he said.

  She stood up. “That is kind of you, but I don’t like people touching my things without my permission.”

  “Understood.”

  She picked up her purse. “Well...um...goodbye.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her lips to his in a pretty intense kiss for the morning. He tasted like coffee, and her insides went gooey. Damn, he was good at that, and everything else…

  He pulled back, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then ran his finger down her cheekbone. He pushed a sticky note into her hand without breaking eye contact. “This is how you can contact me.”

  It was a phone number with the name ‘Gram’ written in neat Cyrillic script, easy for her to read due to her years of studying Russian. “Who is Gram?”

  “He knows how to reach me. Leave a detailed message.” He kissed her forehead. “I wish to hear from you again, but I understand if I do not.”

  She nodded and turned away from him.

  He walked her to his private elevator, punched in a code so she could get in, and selected a floor for her. “Gomez will be waiting for you when the door opens. He will escort you to your vehicle,” he said.

  “Oh, okay. Um...thanks,” she said.

  He stepped out of the elevator, eyes on her. “I hope to see you again, Sophia,” he said as the doors rolled close.

  She relaxed when they did and leaned against the wall of the elevator. She tipped her head back and exhaled slowly. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”

  Had she really just done that? All of that? Judging by the way her inner thighs were complaining about her spike heels, she indeed had.

  The door dinged open to a waiting burly, tall, Asian man. “Gomez?” she asked. He nodded.

  She followed him down the hall, through the end of the lobby, and back into the staircase she remembered from a few days ago. When you were held at gunpoint, the sane part of her brain reminded her. He walked her to the small elevator, swiped a keycard, and down they went. Soon, she was walking out the same door into the same garage, except this time her car was parked right there.

  “Thanks.” She got in her car. He stood and watched her until she had exited the parking garage.

  She drove back to her condo, blaring the music to try and drown out the thoughts in her head. It didn’t work. Stupid and naïve were not normally words she would use to describe herself, but this was totally out of hand.

  She thought of calling her shrink, but then what? Could she even really tell him about screwing a criminal after being held at gunpoint? He could probably tell the authorities if there was imminent danger. She went on and on, trying to imagine the possible scenarios that could arise from a simple conversation. The ramifications of every single action involving Dmitri were so far reaching.

  She made it back home by 5:30 since there was no traffic. She felt some relief at entering her condo. When she crossed the threshold and saw the framed picture, she laid it face down with a shaking hand. She was ashamed to see the two faces within the four corners.

  Instead, she went into her bathroom. She removed her wrinkled blouse, smelling faintly of her perfume and something else. She sniffed it. Cologne. His Cologne. Wow. Sexy.

  “No, damn it,” she said out loud. She threw it in her laundry basket, along with her skirt and bra. The panties—barely held together by small threads—went into the wastebasket.

  She took her time in the shower, letting the hot water cascade down her head and back long after she was clean.

  What the hell was she doing, giving herself so freely to any man, especially one as dangerous as Dmitri?

  Idiot. She leaned her forehead against the tile. Why?

  Because she was drawn to him like a magnet. Because every atom in her body moved toward him whenever he was around. Because he was hot.

  “Ugh,” she said.

  She couldn’t let herself do this. He was an arms dealer. He was powerful. Was she one of those pathetic women who were drawn to men with power? When did that happen? She brushed that thought aside for now.

  She drank her coffee on her little back porch that overlooked the bayou. The mosquitoes were already out in full force, buzzing around her hands and feet, the only flesh exposed in her long silky robe.

  She tried not to think of him, but she couldn’t help but remember the tangle of soft sheets and limbs from the night before. Not to mention the hot elevator sex. He was definitely a man’s man. A man that knows what he’s doing. He took care of her needs first. She’d never been fucked like that in her life and probably never would again.

  She couldn’t wait to see him again.

  Damn it. Stop. She threw her now cold coffee over the balcony. That’s all it was, sex. It was over.

  “Done,” she said out loud.

  She slid her patio door shut behind her.

  One hour later, she walked past a very surprised Marsha and sat at her desk at 7:45 a.m.

  Marsha followed her in. “Everything okay, Sophia?”

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Marsha tucked a loose strand of hair back into her low, neat ponytail. “No reason, ma’am. I’m just not used to seeing you here so early.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” Sophia booted up her computer and sank into her chair.

  Marsha was still standing in front of her desk, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was younger than Sophia, a fresh college graduate Sophia snapped up a couple of years ago at a college recruiting fair

  “Anything else?” Sophia asked.

  “Um...Ms. Relder was hanging around here just a few minutes ago,” Marsha said.

  “What do you mean?” Sophia typed in her password, eyes glued to her screen.

  “I mean, she was hanging around your door. She asked if you were here. I told her no. I asked if she wanted to pass along a message. She said no. She said not to tell you anything, so I...” She let her voice trail off.

  Sophia leaned back in her chair. “I appreciate the heads-up. Don’t worry, this conversation never happened.”

  “Thanks,” Marsha said, and she was gone.

  Sophia shut the door behind her, something she rarely did.

  She flipped through her email impatiently, scanning for anything urgent. She was home free.

  She opened the shared network drive. Since she was the manager responsible for personnel and benefits companywide, she had full access to everything.

  She found the EBCasp
National folder soon enough and paused. Would anyone be able to tell if she had been in here digging around? Of course they would, but what could they possibly do to her after the mess of a meeting they’d pulled her into? Hell, a gun had already been pulled on her. By Dmitri, her sane self reminded her.

  She double clicked.

  Thousands of files filled her screen. She had no idea where to start. She scrolled down, reading the file names as she went.

  “Contracts,” she said out loud. She opened it. The first document was a joint venture agreement. She opened it. To her dismay, it was over two hundred pages long. Seriously?

  “Sophia,” Marsha’s voice came over her intercom, causing her to jump. “Ms. Relder’s coming in.”

  Sophia barely had time to close the document and minimize the folder before her door swung open.

  “Hi, Sophia,” Ms. Relder said. She had a big smile stretched across her perfectly made-up face.

  “Good morning,” Sophia answered.

  Ms. Relder sat in one of the plush chairs in front of Sophia’s desk.

  “What can I help you with, Ms. Relder?” she said.

  “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to see how you are doing,” she said.

  Sophia’s eyebrows arched just about as high as they could go. “Um...I’m fine, thanks.” She swiveled her chair closer to her computer, itching to get back into the folder. “Is there anything I can help you with, Ms. Relder?”

  “Oh, Sophia. You can call me Ana.”

  Sophia smiled, matching Ana’s fakeness. “Okay, Ana. Thanks, that’s really nice.” This was getting weird.

  “I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk things out, I’m here. I know it can be a strange work environment around here, and we women need to stick together in this world.”

  Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. Having a gun pointed at me is a little strange,” she said.

  “Sophia,” Ana hissed. She glanced at the partially open door “Keep your voice down.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Sophia said. She put her elbows on the desk, leaned forward, and looked Ana directly in her eyes. The outer edges of Ana’s eyes were pulled up and back just enough to make it obvious she’d had a face lift at some point. It gave her a creepy, slightly alien look. “Drop the act. Why are you really here?”