Crush (Hard Hit #5) (3 page)

He groaned. “You have no idea how tempted I am, but not tonight. Can’t have you thinking all this is easy.” He could feel Noah shaking with laughter, as he’d hoped. Andrei leaned in for one final kiss, oddly more interested this time around. Mostly, he just wanted a drink.

*

The scent of alcohol hit Orlando with such a force it pulled him from his sleep. He spent a moment wondering if Andrei bathed in vodka while he’d been gone. He also looked unsteady on his feet. After a few minutes of struggling, Andrei worked his shirt over his head and fell into bed beside Orlando. Moving slow and hoping not to draw attention to himself, Orlando turned his head, bringing the man next to him into his line of sight.

With his fingers linked behind his head, and feet crossed at the ankles, Andrei looked the picture of relaxed male—as much as a man like Andrei could appear relaxed, considering the man looked like he’d never missed a day of gym time. His deep breathing gave Orlando the impression he’d already passed out. An evil smile tugged at the corners of Orlando’s mouth. He let the knife slip from his sleeve, into his hand. Time wasn’t on his side. With his ribs injured and Andrei’s muscle mass, Orlando had to be quick before his strength waned.

Bracing his feet against the mattress, he tensed and sprang, covering Andrei’s body with his before the man could counter his attack. He pressed the knife to Andrei’s throat, fully prepared to slice open his jugular if Andrei didn’t cooperate.

“Tell me how—”

Orlando blinked in surprise at Andrei hovering over him. The blade nicked the skin at his throat, making him flinch. He hadn’t seen or felt Andrei move. Once second, he’d been in control. The next, he stared death in the face. Andrei’s gray eyes were unlike anything Orlando had ever seen before. He’d seen dudes so coked out they were capable of anything. This was a different brand of crazy. Andrei’s insanity was frighteningly silent. This man would kill him without batting an eye or an ounce of remorse. Orlando’s pulse drummed in his ears. His heart beat so fast there was no way Andrei couldn’t feel it. If he’d reinjured his ribs in the transfer of power, the adrenaline pumping through his system masked the pain, but Orlando had never been more aware of his surroundings. Every place they touched came to life.

Andrei blinked, as if coming out of a trance. He shifted position, rolling his weight to one side, taking the pressure off Orlando’s injured ribs and confusing the hell out of him. The man’s gaze said he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him while his actions showed care for Orlando’s person. Unfortunately, the move also had Andrei cradling Orlando’s growing erection. Andrei’s lids swept down, hiding his thoughts. When he spoke, his accent thickened, making the arousal situation worse. Orlando’s body reacted without his permission.

“If you want to kill a man in his sleep, you should bring a sharper knife.”

Goddamn, Orlando loved crazy men. There was nothing they weren’t willing to try. They were obsessive, possessive, and fucked hard like they needed to imprint on the soul. Just like Orlando. A surge of recklessness rose up inside him. He closed the inches between them, touching his lips to Andrei’s. As quick as it happened, it was over. Andrei turned his head, shutting Orlando down. He rolled from the bed.

“I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Orlando comforted himself that it could’ve gone worse. After all, the man had a knife. Still, he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t a sting to his pride. He’d never had anyone blatantly turn away from his kiss before. Keeping his gaze averted from Andrei, Orlando’s eyes landed on a dark spot on the otherwise white sheets. He reached over, recognizing his phone as he fingers closed around it. He’d have to wait until Andrei went to sleep, but Orlando didn’t think it would take long. Andrei claimed the chair, crossed his ankles, titled his head back, and was out, proving Orlando right.

Orlando held the device between his hands, chewing on his bottom lip and trying to decide what to do. He could call the police, but he didn’t as much as entertain the idea. That wasn’t his way. If he had a problem, he handled it. No one needed cops up in their business. He should text his parents and let them know he was still kicking, but Andrei had been taking care of that. In the end, two years of habit won out.

Orlando:
He didn’t kill me.

Gannon:
I’m glad to hear it.

Orlando:
No, you’re not.

Gannon:
You’re right. I’m not.

Orlando:
I’m sorry about everything
.

Gannon:
No, you’re not.

Orlando:
You’re right. I’m not. Can I ask you a question?

Gannon:
Obviously, I can’t stop you.

Orlando:
True that. Did you even try to save him?

Gannon:
Every single day for two years, until the day it almost killed me.

His fingers hovered over the buttons. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. Sometimes, it was better not knowing, but not in this case. The question would eat at the back of his mind for the rest of his life if he didn’t find out the truth. It was almost funny how he didn’t question whether Gannon would lie to him. He wouldn’t.

Orlando
: Andrei says Seb confided something in you. Is that true?

Gannon:
He confided a lot of things in me. None of which would he have wanted you to know.

It was hard. He wanted to understand why Seb had become the person he was before his death, but all he knew was the rage of an older brother wanting to protect a younger brother from something he couldn’t. The desire to find Gannon and beat the truth out of him was overwhelming. It would never happen. The questions that ate at him would stay there forever. He was too late to save Seb. Useless as always.

*

With his head at an angle, Andrei watched Orlando sending out texts at a fast clip. There was a real possibility the man was calling for help. Andrei didn’t think so, or he wouldn’t have left the phone for Orlando to find. No, Orlando was the type to handle things on his own. Andrei recognized the glint of barely suppressed fire raging inside him. It matched the one Andrei carried.

The dude had kissed him. The urge to shake his head in disbelief was overwhelming. No way Andrei could’ve seen the move coming. He wasn’t surprised by Orlando. No doubt the man thought to unsettle him. It was his reaction to Orlando’s kiss. Andrei couldn’t shake it. He’d wanted it. For a moment, Andrei had considered allowing it, before good sense stormed in, taking control, and giving him the strength to turn his head. Orlando was trouble. Andrei had been telling the truth when they’d spoken earlier. He could read a man’s profligacy by his gaze alone, and Orlando’s vice was insanity.

Orlando might, occasionally, partake in the wares he’d once sold, but his real drug of choice was crazy. That shit got Orlando high as hell. Andrei was a treasure trove of that particular character trait, but he wanted no part of Orlando’s addiction. Unfortunately, his body didn’t care one whit. It burned. If Orlando hadn’t been so concerned with whether Andrei was asleep or not, hoping to snag his phone, he would’ve seen how much Andrei wanted him. There was no hiding the erection tenting his pants.

As he watched Orlando drift back to sleep, Andrei’s arousal didn’t abate. Once he was certain Orlando was out, he slipped from the chair and moved to retrieve the phone. He bit back a laugh when he noticed Orlando had changed his security code. It took Andrei three tries, but he was back in. This time, he’d used Seb’s birthdate. Andrei sincerely hoped Orlando was more creative in bed than he was at thinking up passwords.

Andrei’s fingers froze over the face of the phone as he realized where his thoughts were headed. Shrugging it off, he went back to checking Orlando’s messages. He’d only texted one person—Gannon.
Of course
, Andrei thought bitterly, until he read through their exchange. Even as the light from the phone slowly faded away, Andrei stared at it through sightless eyes. He’d been cursed in this life with too much sense of reason. It was impossible for him to look at any situation and not see both sides.

Gannon wasn’t wrong. Under the same circumstances, Andrei would’ve chosen the same path. The drive to survive was damnably strong. Andrei would know. He’d been there. Unfortunately, Orlando wasn’t exactly wrong either. His brother had died under suspicious circumstances. Not just his brother, but his younger brother. The one he’d be the most driven to protect, and he’d been forced to watch the man responsible walk away. In death, Orlando had—no doubt—swept Seb’s true nature under a mental rug, choosing to remember him for his good points. This was simply one of those times when there were no winners; only losers.

Orlando shifted in his sleep. His breath hitched, and the arousal that had almost disappeared was back full force. Damn, Andrei’s body was stupid. Obviously, he’d gone too long without relief if he wanted this spoiled, over-privileged, and psychotic bastard. He tucked the phone in beside Orlando and headed for the bathroom. He didn’t kid himself. If he didn’t take care of this now, he’d end up doing something stupid—like the sexy chocolate in his bed.

With the bathroom door shut and locked against temptation, Andrei loosened his jeans. His starving cock tried climbing out at the first hint of freedom. Shoving his hand inside his jeans, Andrei stroked his erection. His eyes fell closed as the fissures of pleasure overtook him. He tried to bring an image of Noah to mind. Dark hair, dark eyes, and bright future, Noah Cote was perfect. He was easygoing and drama free. Orlando’s image burst onto the scene hard and hot, reminding him everything about Noah was boring as fuck.

In his head, Orlando was borderline violent in his ministrations. Andrei ate it up. He was sick and didn’t care. Andrei loved it rough. His orgasm hit hard, tearing a gasp of surprise from his lips. He gulped it down while riding out the waves. Andrei recognized his mistake right away. He wouldn’t be happy now until he had the real thing. The desire to know if Orlando would wreck him would eat at the back of his mind from now on. He’d never look at the man again without wondering what sex with him would be like. Andrei had always been his own worst enemy.

Chapter 2

A solid weight landed across Orlando’s shins, pulling him from a dead sleep. In his surprise, he shot upward, only to end up flat on his back again, clutching his ribs. Goddamn, he hated this shit.

“Breathe through your nose,” Andrei said unhelpfully.

“Fuck,” Orlando growled. “Is this shit ever going to heal?”

Andrei ignored his question. “I thought you might like a shower, so I fetched the bag you’d taken with you to Massachusetts. Minus the gun and drugs, of course.”

“I have a license for that gun,” Orlando said snidely. After a minute of breathing through his nose, which helped, goddamn it, Orlando sat up again. This time, he moved slower. He eyed the bag sitting across his legs, never more thankful to see his own shit in his life. His gaze shifted to where Andrei sat at the table—shirtless and drinking coffee as if it was any regular day of the week.

“Go on,” Andrei urged, adding a wicked smile. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Orlando rolled his eyes. Andrei winked. Fucking bastard. Those muscles, though. He’d never seen another man who looked like Andrei—built for power. His chest, stomach, and arms were cut to perfection while his shoulders were huge, making him take up too much space. His hair was a choppy mess, framing his gray eyes and tempting Orlando to push it aside. The several days’ worth of growth on his jaw only served to emphasize the man’s full lips. They were twisted into a knowing smirk that had Orlando heading for the bathroom before he humiliated himself… again. Even knowing he was making a fool of himself didn’t stop Orlando from rushing through his shower, hoping to get back to the view sooner. Before meeting Andrei, Orlando hadn’t realized he was such a masochist. Now, there was no denying it.

Pulling on a pair of shorts and draping a towel over his head, Orlando strolled from the bathroom with beads of water still rolling down his torso. He tossed his bag aside and eased onto the bed with his back against the headboard for support. Once he was settled, Orlando couldn’t avoid looking at Andrei any longer. He wasn’t smirking anymore. There was hunger in Andrei’s gaze. Orlando was sure of it. Against his will, Orlando’s focus locked on Andrei’s bare chest. It looked hard, unmoving—just like the man. His gaze dipped lower, eating up the abs that called for Orlando’s tongue to taste them.

“Do you want to talk more about Gannon today, or should we focus on overindulged man children who push drugs instead of finding a real job?” Andrei asked, pulling Orlando’s gaze back to his face.

The heat in Andrei’s tone combined with the lust in Orlando’s veins. Try as he might, Orlando couldn’t work up an ounce of anger over Andrei’s claim. “I have a real job,” Orlando said, sounding turned on even to his ears.

Andrei’s phone rang before he could voice the disbelief that was no doubt running through his mind. A shadow passed over Andrei’s features as he stared at the device in his hand. Coming to his feet, Andrei answered, speaking in Russian as he headed for the door. Orlando bit back a moan at the way Andrei’s body moved. In unlaced combat boots, with sweatpants bunched up at the top of one shoe and pulled halfway up one leg, Andrei should’ve looked a hot mess. Instead, he was the perfect picture of sleep-mussed.

Like a man who’d just rolled out of Orlando’s bed. It was just… Goddamn. With his attention locked on the way Andrei’s broad shoulders filled the door, it took him a second to notice Andrei’s back. Once he did, Orlando’s blood froze. Extensive scarring covered every inch above the waist. It took Orlando a few minutes to realize Andrei had disconnected his call and was staring into space. He wanted to ask what the hell had caused all those marks, but Andrei’s expression didn’t invite conversation. For an unguarded moment, Andrei looked dead inside. Orlando’s chest squeezed. He recognized that look. It was the one Orlando saw each time he caught sight of his reflection. Other people saw whatever Orlando chose to show them — kindness, ruthlessness, or whatever. But he always knew the truth. Beyond the act, there was nothing. An empty shell. Andrei was the same.