Lie to Me (29 page)

“There’s want.” Releasing her waist, Misha twisted his hips sideways, distancing his erection. “And then there’s the kind of want that never stops.”

Uncertain what to make of her body’s odd reaction, Sasha edged out of the intimidating shadow of his long, lean frame. “I should go to bed.”

“Yes. You should.” He chucked his knuckles against her chin. “You’re awfully damned cute standing here in that too-big shirt.”

As heat infused her cheeks, she ducked around his broad shoulders. But before she could beat a hasty retreat, Misha’s fingers latched onto her wrist once more. Slowly, she turned to face the devilish upturn of his lips.

“That other kind of want can be fun too. Especially when there’s two devoted to your pleasure.”

The strange thrill tumbled around in Sasha’s belly once more. A nervous laugh slipped off her lips. “You want me to fuck you both? At the same time? I hardly know you.”

Misha’s grin broadened as his large hand cupped the side of her
face. His thumb drifted down to caress her parted lips. Another enticing zing buzzed down to her toes.

He gave her a flirtatious wink. “I promise you’ll get everything you want out of it.”

Before she could tell him no, or form any logical response at all, he released her, sending a strange surge of longing through her system. Not the kind that burned when Alexei sat too close and she needed to touch him. But the kind that came with knowing a drop-dead gorgeous man wanted what she couldn’t give.

Or more correctly wouldn’t. The night with Saeed had been happenstance. Something she wouldn’t willingly seek out. Her modesty wouldn’t let her.

Still, for a nanosecond she allowed the vision of both Alexei and Misha fucking her to emerge in her mind. Alexei’s powerful body rising over hers, his green eyes boring into her soul as his cock flexed inside her pussy. Misha’s hardened, athlethic frame pillowing her from behind. Teasing her rear entrance with his fingers. Working his cock inside her tight channel the way Saeed had and bringing her to the dangerous place where pleasure became pain.

Heat swamped from her head to her toes in one massive, consuming wave. It flooded through her veins, moistening the flesh between her legs. Could she? The darkening of Alexei’s gaze said he wouldn’t necessarily object

Misha shrugged indifferently. “It’s up to you, darlin’. That flush in your cheeks says you’re entertaining the idea.” He shocked her further by drawing a solitary finger down the rise of her tight breast and across a nipple that had hardened like glass. “Alexei might not have proposed the idea, but I promise you, he’ll enjoy every minute of it. Your pleasure turns him on. He likes watching.”

She knew that firsthand. The way his pleasure had increased at the sight of hers, as he watched her come against his mouth…No, Misha wasn’t lying. Oh,
God,
she couldn’t let this wicked fantasy blossom any
further. Even if Alexei wouldn’t mind, this felt somehow wrong. She shouldn’t be attracted to Misha when her heart craved Alexei. She twisted away, closing her eyes to the confusion that flooded her brain and her body. “I need to go to bed.”

Soft chuckles rumbled through the stillness. “Chicken.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“I can’t.”

“No.” He squeezed her fingers, his voice softening. “You’re as afraid as he probably is to ask, and you won’t. Think it over. I won’t threaten your involvement with Alexei. Watch and see—I swear on my life it will only bind you two more deeply.”

Could she?
Slowly, she shook her head. This was insane.

“Think about it, Sasha,” Misha murmured softly. “He won’t ask because he loves you. He wouldn’t want to risk offending you.” His grin returned, wicked to the very core. “I’m not that gentlemanly.”

Eased somewhat by his playfulness, she squeezed his thick forearm and slipped down the hall. At the top of the stairs, when she looked over the railing at Alexei stretched out on the bed, the sheet tangled around his waist, his broad, powerful chest exposed, her stomach did a somersault that took her heart on a wild loop-de-loop.

Could it be possible he loved her?

A shiver tripped down her spine. She wasn’t sure she could handle the full onslaught of Alexei’s love. On some instinctual level, she knew if he opened that door, if he yielded his heart, he would go to the ends of the world for her, cut down any man who threatened what Alexei saw as his. There would be no more protective barriers for either one of them, no places left to hide when the emotion became too much. He would never let her go.

A frown intruded on momentary bliss.

Neither would her father.

A
lexei woke to the sweetest comfort he could remember; turned on his side, Sasha tucked flush against his body, his arm around her waist holding her in place. He smiled and snugged her closer. It was getting easier to use those unpracticed muscles. The lifting of the corners of his mouth no longer felt forced.

And damned if he didn’t like waking up like this. Falling asleep the same way. This was right. Right where she belonged, where he belonged—the whole damned thing was right.

At least as long as he didn’t consider the other factors that made it so very wrong, like Kadir, the sins of his past, the dark stains on his soul.

Clinking dishes upstairs and the smell of fresh coffee drew him regretfully from the lush softness of Sasha’s warm body. Doing his best to ignore the half-mast state of his erection, he scooted away and quietly eased out of the bed, careful not to wake her. He wanted her again, but it would have to wait. His insides were still tangled up from the night before. He had poured himself into her, body and soul.

Worse, when she’d asked whether he would like to invite Misha into their bed, she’d awakened disturbing thoughts. Unlike Grigoriy, Misha would never be greedy. Misha knew his boundaries, would never let a threesome become personal. He, of all people, understood what Sasha meant, even if Alexei couldn’t fess up to the truth. On one
hand, yeah, he did like the idea of watching Sasha’s complete pleasure, even if only for one night. On the other, he knew Sasha was too modest to give the fantasy further thought.

Banishing the wicked visions taunting his thoughts, Alexei pulled on his jeans and hiked up the stairs, where he knew Misha would be waiting for an explanation as to why he hadn’t said something, why he hadn’t mentioned Sasha was Irina.

He shook his head. There weren’t answers. Nothing acceptable, at least. Just flimsy excuses his old partner wouldn’t buy.

Misha looked up from the coffeepot when Alexei entered. Without a word of greeting, he pulled another mug from the cabinet and filled it. Grateful for the jolt of hot caffeine, Alexei accepted the steaming cup with a nod of greeting.

“Talked to Clarke this morning.” Misha tossed the remark out casually as he took a seat at the glass-topped dining table.

“Is he in London yet?” Leaning a hip against the countertop, Alexei took a cautious sip of the rich, smoky brew. At least he hadn’t been hit with questions first thing. The icebreaker gave him a chance to figure out what to say. How to explain that he was still trying to wrap his head around what Sasha meant, where she fit into his life.

“Yeah. Holed up with Trubachev’s team, and Hughes is on his ass about things here. Says her father’s getting impatient for her to get inside the borders.”

Choosing to ignore the situation with Sasha’s father, Alexei focused on the other situation. Something was brewing, and his natural curiosity wouldn’t let it go. “Did he mention why Sandman’s with them?”

Misha pushed back in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. He toyed with a cigarette, staring at it like he was a starving man and it was the last bit of bread in sight.

Alexei nodded at the cigarette, chuckling. “You can smoke that.”

“Nah.” Misha tossed it on the table with a mutter. “Shit’ll kill me.”

“Toss it here then.” He could use a good strong pull of nicotine.
Maybe it would calm the persistent quaking in his gut. The coffee damned sure wasn’t helping.

With a frown that said Alexei was out of his mind, Misha picked up the smoke and broke it in half. “You quit ten years ago. I’m not going to be responsible for getting you hooked again.” He tossed the two halves in the nearby ashtray. “Sandman’s in London to deal with a bomb that’s embedded in the belly of the Central Hall Westminster. Nasty shit too. It’s attached to a highly fractious canister of Novichok.”

That news was enough to make Alexei take a seat. The gulp of steaming coffee lodged in his throat, and his eyes watered as he tried to swallow. When the painful lump made it down his esophagus, he coughed. “Novichok? The nerve agent?”

“Mm-hm.” Misha lifted his mug and took a casual sip, as if he’d announced only the weather report—and one that predicted a cloudless, sunny day. “Someone’s a bit pissed about Ukraine joining the EU.”

Shit, no wonder Hughes had his pants in a wad. Alexei wouldn’t want to be him right now to save his life. “Do they know who? How’d they find it?”

A wry smile quirked one corner of Misha’s mouth. “That’s where you come in, my friend.” He inclined his head toward the hall. “You and…
Irina
there.”

Alexei flinched, but he let the observation hang. Misha knew. Until Alexei could put things into words, Misha would just have to be content with the association. “What does that have to do with her?”

“Well it seems the reason Hughes is so uptight about getting her back has everything to do with her daddy.”

Mug halfway to his lips, Alexei paused to arch an eyebrow. He didn’t like the sound of this. Knew whatever came next was going to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“No one told you?”

Nope. He absolutely didn’t like the sound of this. Slowly, he set his mug on the table. “Told me what?”

“That you were sent after her because Hughes struck a deal with her father. He came over on a scientific convention and spilled the beans in exchange for Sasha’s return. It seems Yakiv won’t tell Hughes who’s responsible for that bomb until Sasha’s back home. Guess he’s content with life in jail just to see her again.” Misha took another swig, then set his mug down. “They’ll keep it quiet. I’ve heard rumors of a deal too. Yakiv knows shit. Stuff Hughes is willing to trade for amnesty.”

Fuck.
Alexei set an elbow on the table and dropped his head into his hand. He should have known. In the scheme of things, Sasha was just another girl. Her father might be a Nobel Prize winner, but even he didn’t have the power to make two countries go back into a hot spot and get a girl.

Which meant Alexei didn’t have a hope in hell of convincing Clarke to confiscate Sasha and hide her in the United States. Clarke needed to repair the strained relations between MI6 and the Opals. He wouldn’t tear them apart further by cloistering MI6’s key asset.

FUCK!

He slammed an open palm against the table, making both coffee mugs jump. Misha’s ice-blue eyes lifted, watched him push away from the table. In a low measured voice, he asked, “You going to tell me now?”

Oh, son of a bitch—Misha had done that on purpose. He knew Alexei hadn’t known the truth, and he’d thrown it out there as bait. Goading him into a reaction that would force him to confront the truths in his heart he wasn’t ready to face. He glowered at his best friend.

A creak on the stairs saved him from a response. Both men looked up, falling silent as Sasha padded groggily into the room wearing nothing but Alexei’s shirt from the day before. Despite himself, Alexei smiled at the possessive clench of his gut. Damned if he didn’t like her in his things. She made her way to the table, to his side. Setting one
dainty hand on his shoulder, she bent down and pressed a sweet kiss to his unshaven cheek. “Morning.”

He reached up and caught her fingers, gave them an affectionate squeeze. “Morning to you. There’s fresh coffee.” Releasing her hand, he nodded at Misha. “Thank him.”

She flashed a smile that Misha returned with Cheshire style. His gaze flicked appreciatively down her body, but strangely, Alexei found himself unoffended. Unlike the obvious want that had gleamed in Grigoriy’s eyes, the hint of desire that sparked in Misha’s struck Alexei’s pride.

“That show last night was enough to leave me hard this morning.”

The remark his partner made as Sasha stumbled into the kitchen made Alexei choke again. As Alexei spluttered, grasping for a way to regain control of a situation that had somehow spiraled beyond appropriate, he looked to Sasha, certain her pretty face would be four shades of red.

Instead, she laughed softly while she filled her mug. Lifting the cup to drink, she looked over the rim, amusement shining in those wide blue eyes. She swallowed, then quipped, “Better find an outlet for that.”

Misha smirked, once more reclining in his chair. “Darlin’, you just say the word.” His gaze shifted to Alexei. “Or maybe Alexei should. Whatcha say, partner? You, me, her?”

Speech was impossible. He couldn’t believe the conversation that was taking place around him—or the instantaneous response of his cock. Misha was flirting with Sasha. Sasha flirted in return. And Alexei’s dick was hard as stone at the thought of her splayed open before them both, accepting the pleasure they could give, her soft moans filling his ears.

He watched the woman who had become so much a part of him as she exited the kitchen to take a seat on the comfortable sofa just beyond the table. Her gaze touched his for the briefest of heartbeats,
and his stomach turned over at what lingered there. Not offense. Not refusal.

Curiosity.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly as dry and grainy as cornmeal.

Abruptly, he turned his attention to the black depths of his coffee. But not before catching the knowledge in Misha’s heavy stare. What Misha suggested offered distance Alexei was in dire need of. Yet despite the curiosity in Sasha’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to believe she’d ever be capable of handling the dark need that roiled inside him. The last time she’d been blindfolded. While he’d instructed she should be, he also realized it gave her separation from the wicked deed. If he took her with Misha, Alexei didn’t want that barrier between them. He wanted to watch the passion fill her eyes, wanted her to see how much her pleasure pleased him.