Submit (The Underground Book 4) Read online

  She winced.

  “Don’t worry. It always looks worse than it is,” Haley shouted.

  “How is that possible?” Belinda asked.

  “Submission hold.” Mikhail nodded toward the cage. “The guy is done for. He’ll tap out as soon as he realizes he can’t fix this with his airway constricted.”

  His airway? “Nik will choke him?”

  Mikhail shook his head. “Not all the way. Just almost.”

  Seconds passed slowly while Belinda held her breath. It truly looked as though Sanchez would choke to death the way he flailed around straining for purchase and failing. Finally, he slapped the ground with one hand.

  Nikolav bounded to his feet immediately, holding his arm up in victory.

  Sanchez rolled onto his elbows and knees, holding his neck and gasping for oxygen.

  “Nope,” Belinda declared.

  “No what?” Haley laughed.

  “Can’t do it. Too gross. That’s enough for me.”

  Mikhail wrapped a hand around Belinda’s bicep and led her to the back of the room with Haley on his other side. “That’s all we’re staying for anyway.” He scanned the room constantly. If it appeared anyone had followed them to the fight, he didn’t say anything. And Belinda was afraid to ask. There were some things she’d rather not know.

  »»•««

  Anton steepled his hands in front of him, his elbows on the edge of his father’s bed. He hadn’t cried since he was a toddler. But today he would make an exception.

  This man was his father. His own flesh and blood. They’d fled Russia together with nothing but a few suitcases and a backpack filled with notes and formulas and names.

  Anton’s mother had died when he was young. He’d been an only child, raised by a man who worked for the KGB. It wasn’t a coincidence that Anton had followed in Grigory’s footsteps and taken a menial job with the same government agency as his father as soon as he graduated from school.

  But the USSR had collapsed months later, and Anton had found himself in a foreign land within days.

  Grigory was smart, though. He’d settled in New York and made himself known, intent on making as much money as possible as quickly as possible so they could use the cash to fund their research.

  And here they were, over twenty years later, with nothing to show for all their hard work.

  No. That wasn’t true. Anton knew the drug they’d developed was close to completion. Weeks. Months. But none of that mattered as far as Grigory was concerned. He would never see the results.

  And he hadn’t reaped the benefits…

  Anton froze for the tenth time that hour as Grigory fought to take another breath. Each inhale was getting farther from the last. A few times he’d exhaled and gone several seconds before inhaling again.

  It was excruciating.

  “How’s he doing?” Viktor whispered as he approached the end of the bed.

  Anton closed his eyes and set his forehead on his palms. He didn’t need to respond. Grigory hadn’t woken up in more than twenty-four hours. It was only a matter of time. Minutes. Perhaps an hour.

  Viktor set a palm on Anton’s shoulder. “So sorry. I know how much he means to you.” And then he left the room.

  Funeral arrangements had already been made.

  It pained Anton to prepare for that inevitability, but it had proven to be easy. Grigory had left a folder with Viktor that outlined everything he wanted. Two phone calls, and Anton was back at his father’s side.

  The waiting was horrific. Watching the man take his last breaths made Anton wish for a quicker exit for himself.

  He knew he was a world-class asshole of the highest order. He’d killed more men than he could count. And ordinarily he didn’t give a fuck and a half. Everyone who had died at his hands had deserved it.

  With the possible exception of the dozen homeless people he’d taken off the streets lately. But their lives were doomed to failure anyway, he rationalized. Expendable. A necessary evil for the betterment of the rest of society.

  If Anton could just figure out the missing link and get his drug to work for everyone, he would be a billionaire overnight.

  But not fast enough for his father.

  Either Grigory Yenin hadn’t been strong enough to withstand the trial, or he hadn’t been a candidate. In all likelihood Anton would never know. But he had blood samples. He’d overnighted them several times in the last few days.

  Soon he would have some answers. They might not be the ones he wanted, but hopefully his father would not die in vain. If anything about his death helped Jorge Montego solve the puzzle, at least they would have that.

  Grigory’s time was up.

  But Anton’s clock was ticking too. And he was growing antsy.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You’ve been quiet today.”

  “Is that a crime?” Belinda kicked off her shoes and padded to the kitchen. She needed a glass of wine. Besides the fact that the fight was stressful, her nerves were frayed from trying to read Nikolav’s mind.

  He said from the beginning, days ago, he wouldn’t have sex with her until she was certain she could submit to him. She had done nothing but submit to him for almost a week.

  Last night she’d let him tie her to the bed with her ass in the air, a blindfold on, and a pillow under her stomach. If that wasn’t submitting, she didn’t know what was. And still he wouldn’t have sex with her.

  What was his deal?

  She blew out a breath. How the hell needy was she that she was pissed off with a guy she was dating who didn’t want to sleep with her the first week they were together? If it wasn’t so unnerving, she would be laughing at the absurdity.

  But this relationship hadn’t gone through a normal progression. It seemed like she’d known him a month or longer. Not a week.

  For one thing, she’d spent countless hours with the man. He’d been a constant companion since Sunday morning. Except for the few times she’d gone to work, he’d been by her side.

  In an ordinary relationship, she might have gone months without knowing someone as well as she knew Nikolav.

  And he knew her too. He made it clear he knew how she took her coffee, what wine she liked, and where to touch her to drive her insane with desire…

  She sighed as she reached for the bottle of Merlot on the counter. It was open from last night, only one glass missing.

  Nikolav’s hands landed on her waist, and his lips hit her temple. “Not a crime. Just a concern.”

  She poured herself a glass and took a drink.

  He stepped away from her and opened the fridge to grab a beer. And then he took her hand and led her to the couch. “Sit. Talk to me.”

  She narrowed her gaze as she lowered herself to the cushion. After another sip of wine, she lowered the glass, but kept it in her hands as she tucked her feet under her and turned to face him.

  “Do you feel awkward about what we did last night?”

  “Nope. Do you?” she sassed.

  He frowned. “You’re acting strange. Are you pissed about something I did?”

  “No. Are you pissed about something I did?” she countered.

  He flinched. “Can’t say I’m super fond of this deflecting routine. I can’t fix what you aren’t willing to discuss.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Nor did she want to explain herself or continue with the third degree. If he didn’t get her, too bad. She hauled herself off the couch and left the room, padding to her bedroom where she set her wine on the dresser and reached inside to grab a tank top.

  Two minutes later, she wore nothing but the tank top and panties and settled herself in bed propped against the headboard with her wine and a book.

  As if she could read…

  But she could pretend to read. And that was what she did.

  When Nikolav showed up, leaning against the doorframe while drinking his beer, she didn’t bother to look up. “I find I’m growing annoye
d.”

  “Good. Join the club.”

  “What the hell are you mad about?”

  “If you don’t know, it’s not worth discussing.”

  He tipped his head back to finish the beer and then set the bottle on the dresser and strode to her side. Without a word, he took the glass and the book from her hands and set them both on the bedside table. And then he climbed onto the bed, dragged her body down several inches, and straddled her.

  Before she could protest, he circled her wrists with his fingers and hauled her hands over her head. “I know I’m not perfect, and you’re certainly permitted to be pissy anytime you want, directed at me or otherwise, but I truly don’t know what I did to make you mad.

  “I do know I did something. That’s clear. But I can’t fix it if you don’t share.”

  She stared at him, lips pursed, cursing the way her body reacted to him climbing over her and the fact that he was being so calm about her silent tantrum. Was she being unfair? She didn’t think so. It really got under her skin when he wouldn’t sleep with her last night.

  He leaned closer and kissed her eyelids and then her cheeks, making his way to her mouth, which he also set his lips on even though she wasn’t being very open to the idea.

  She kissed him back, barely. But it infuriated her that he could affect her like this when she was mad.

  He smiled down at her when he pulled back, seemingly fighting a chuckle. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t a good time to say this, but you’re adorable when you’re pissed.”

  “I’m not pissed.”

  Now he chuckled. “Baby, you have something stuck so far up your ass today, I wouldn’t be surprised if you can’t remember what it looked like before you put it there.”

  She gasped.

  “Don’t even try to argue the point any longer. It’s beginning to sound redundant.”

  She licked her lips. Damn him.

  “So let me backtrack to the last time you seemed fine. It’s super clear in my mind. You were tied to this bed on your belly having the most amazing orgasm of my career. And then you fell asleep and woke up in a different dimension. So somewhere between me driving my fingers into your wet pussy until you screamed out and when you woke up…” He furrowed his brow and glanced at a corner of the room for a moment as though it might come to him.

  “Your career?” She couldn’t keep from grinning at his word choice.

  “Yep. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman come that hard.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “And yet this didn’t convince you I was submissive enough?”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re submissive enough. You’ve proven yourself to be more submissive than I ever hoped for. Far beyond my expectations.”

  “And yet, you still won’t sleep with me.”

  He let go of her wrists and sat up straighter, still straddling her belly. “Is that what’s got you in a funk?”

  “I’m so not in a funk.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “Hurt. Sad. Embarrassed. Confused. Horny. You need more?”

  He stiffened. “Because we haven’t had sex?”

  “Of course.”

  He climbed off her and slid to the floor.

  That made her more nervous than anything he’d previously done.

  He ran a hand through his hair and paced, not looking at her. Finally, he stopped, his back to her, his hands on his hips, facing the bathroom. “This is my fault. I realize it now. I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you until you were sure you could submit to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “And then I changed my game and didn’t let you know.”

  She sat up straighter, grabbing the sheet that had worked its way down to her knees and fisting it.

  He spun around. “I owe you an apology.”

  “Okay.”

  “That is so not why I haven’t slept with you yet. There are probably several reasons, but none of them have anything to do with you being submissive. That was a given almost from the first day. You’re an amazing sub. For someone who never considered the idea and had no experience with the lifestyle before this week, you’re a goddess.”

  “But?”

  He shook his head and came closer. “No but. You are. It’s not you—”

  She rolled her eyes and interrupted him, jumping from the bed to cross over to the space where he’d stood moments ago. “Don’t you dare give me some lame line like ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ That’s insulting. And I’m not that stupid.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say, Belinda.” He spun around to face her but didn’t approach.

  “Fine. Go for it. Keep talking. Dig.”

  He smiled. “Dig?”

  “Deeper. I’m waiting.” She cocked a hip defiantly and lifted a hand to study her nails in mock boredom.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “Again, let me apologize, but you might be even cuter in your sassy, sarcastic mood than your pissed, silent-treatment mood.”

  She glared at him. “You think that’s helping?”

  He sobered. “No. Probably not.” He swallowed and then continued. “Belinda, you have turned my world upside down and inside out in days. I’m so fucking into you, I can’t concentrate on a thing. What I want more than anything in the world is to possess you completely in every sense of the word.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it.” Was he making this shit up as he went along? He sounded sincere, but no matter how she looked at it, he still hadn’t fucked her.

  The man made a conscious choice not to stick his cock into her. Every single day.

  He lifted both hands to rub his temples, directing his gaze toward the floor. “I’m scared.”

  She flinched. Seconds ticked by. What was he scared of?

  His face rose to meet her gaze. “I’m afraid you’ll walk away when this is all over. When you no longer need me to protect you. When Yenin is caught and your life is your own again. When the FBI is gone and you return to normal.

  “I’m scared out of my mind you’ll walk away from this thing we have and leave me devastated. Because that’s what will happen to me if I finish consummating this thing and slide my cock into your tightness. I’ll be lost to you. And it will destroy me if you change your mind when the circumstances are no longer so dire.”

  She couldn’t breathe.

  “I’ve known you a week. You’re my everything. I’m in love with you, Belinda.”

  She couldn’t speak. She’d never been so shocked.

  She’d gone over every possible excuse he might have, and that one had never entered her mind.

  His pale vampire skin turned a dark shade of red as he waited for her to say something.

  She finally uttered the first thing that came to mind. “And what we’ve done so far is so inconsequential that you could walk away from me? That one tiny little left-over intimacy we haven’t shared makes that much difference?”

  “Nothing we’ve done has been inconsequential to me. I replay every intimate moment in my mind all day. Every second is precious.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?” She turned to face the door and pointed at it. “If I told you to get out right now, it wouldn’t hurt? Just because you haven’t fucked me?”

  He hesitated. “No. It would hurt like hell.” His shoulders sagged.

  “Then for God’s sake, stop torturing us both. I want you to possess me in that way. It would kill me if you left me too. Part of my soul would leave with you. Hell, Nikolav, I don’t sleep around with just any guy. I haven’t had sex in five years. I don’t take this lightly.

  “But you do something to me. You’ve brought out something I didn’t know existed. I might have gone my entire life without knowing there was something else out there. What if I had met and married some vanilla guy and settled without ever knowing you?”

  She shuddered at the thought. “You bring me to my knees. Literally and figuratively. I’d do anythin
g for you. All you have to do is ask. I trust you to control me even though it’s illogical considering how long we’ve known each other.”

  Her voice rose. “I brought you to meet my family. Do you know how many men I’ve brought home to Mom and Dad?”

  “None.”

  “Exactly. Doesn’t that tell you something? I should be insulted you think I’m so shallow that I would walk away from the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me just because some Russian Mafia guy is caught and put in jail. Like I could turn around and skip merrily away.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am.” She grinned.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ve created a monster.”

  “If by monster you mean someone who is suddenly a complete sex fiend who can’t concentrate on anything else but when the man she’s fallen in love with is going to get his head out of his ass and make love to her.”

  “My head was kinda stuck.”

  “Ya think?”

  He stood and crossed the room to reach her, hauling her against his body and wrapping his hand around a fistful of her hair to tip her head back.

  She gasped at the slight sting, shocked by the flood of arousal that accompanied it. She never would have imagined she would enjoy having a man pull her hair. Get off on it, even.

  “Enough with the sass. I get it. You’re right. I’m man enough to admit it. Now shut that sassy mouth of yours before I take you over my knee to stop you.”

  She smiled. “So much cheap talk.”

  He lifted a brow. “You testing me?”

  “I’m willing to say or do anything if it will get you to see reason and use that tool you have in your pants properly on me.”

  “What if what I need you to do to get my cock is to obey my words and shut your smart little mouth?”

  She pursed her lips. Fine.

  “That’s what I thought. Now, I said you were right. I see your reasoning. I’m sorry I turned the table on you and didn’t explain myself. I’ll try to do better in the future. If you can keep your mouth shut now and stop talking, I’ll fix my wrong.”

  She widened her gaze.

  He lifted the hand from around her waist and held up a finger. “But, there’s a condition.”