You Don't Know Me (The Russian Don 3) - Page 13

I don’t move but they must have sensed my figure because they look up towards me before they simultaneously fly away. I draw myself away from the window and Tasha Evanoff fills my head.

Her luscious curves, warm sweet breath and eyes full of simple joy. No matter how much I try to make myself believe last night was nothing more than two animals acceding to their wildest, lustful desires, I know different. I also know slow darkness will follow after taking the forbidden. But I don’t care. I shrug a shoulder.

I’ve waited for a long time to make that pussy cry out for me and fuck me it did, over and fucking over. Hell, I can’t remember the last time a woman made me feel this alive. I drag myself back to the bed, my cock stiff and throbbing with blood surging from my brain. I get in and grasp its thickness firmly. With long slow strokes, I visualize that sweet pink flesh that drove me to such wickedness hours earlier.

I see my cock power into her, thrusting mercilessly, as savage as the Alpha wolf with his female. I took her like it was my last day on this earth. What a fucking glorious ending! My free hand grips my chest and my heartbeat rises as my orgasm begins to race forward like an unstoppable freight train.

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck me. My cock pulsates, frantically cheering my hand on, like it has a fucking mind of its own. I stroke faster and faster, and feel the perspiration form across my forehead. My whole body stiffens as I shoot my hot seed into the air.

Fuck. Fuck you Nikita Evanoff.

This, this is just the fucking beginning …

Ten

Tasha Evanoff

I stand a block away from my home. I look around me and there is no one. It’s still early and no one actually walks the streets in this neighborhood. There is a nip in the autumn air, but I am warm in the butter-soft, brown leather jacket that Noah insisted I wear.

‘I can’t be seen in it,’ I told him.

‘Then ditch it before you get home,’ he replied carelessly.

I stood still while he helped me into it. He lifted my hair out of the collar and zipped me up as if I was a child. Then he stepped away from me and let his hands drop to his sides.

‘So it’s goodbye,’ I said, wanting desperately to prolong those last moments.

He didn’t answer. Just nodded and opened the door, his hand clutching the handle so hard his knuckles shone white. I didn’t want to go, but my legs moved and I walked over the threshold, down the steps, and straight into the cab. I smiled automatically at the man called Sam as he shut the door.

As he got into the driver’s seat I turned my head and looked at Noah. His tall frame filled the doorway, still, dark and mysterious. I lifted my hand and waved, but he did not wave back. Then the cab began to move and I wanted to scream for him to stop, to take me back where I belong.

But I didn’t.

I just sat in the cab, numb and silent, until we were nearly at my house. That’s when my sense of self-preservation kicked in and I leaned forward and told Sam to drop me off a block before my house.

‘Just there, by that post box would be great.’

That’s how I come to be standing a block away from home hugging Noah’s jacket. A cold October wind ruffles my hair as I take the first step towards the place I call home and my legs work. I take another step and another step. With every step my body starts rewiring itself. I did what I wanted to, and it was the most beautiful fantasy I could have dreamed of, but now it was over, and real life had to begin again.

When I am half a block away I take the jacket off, but I cannot bring myself to throw it away. I roll it up into a ball and walk a bit further down the road. My hands are itching to throw it away. If I get caught … there will be hell to pay for not just me, but Noah too, but my heart won’t let me. It is the only thing I will ever have of him.

As I get to my best friend Lina’s house, I pop into her front garden and stuff the jacket in the blue recycling containers left outside. It must be collection day. I know the trucks don’t come until mid-morning. I’ll either come back in a couple of hours and retrieve it, or I’ll just call Lina and ask her to keep it for me until later.

When I get closer to the house I take out my mobile phone and call my grandmother. Although it is five-thirty in the morning, she answers her phone on the first ring and sounds completely alert. My grandma wakes up at four every morning to do her prayers. She prays for hours for my father’s soul.

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