close.”
“Come for me, baby,” he commanded, reaching between their
bodies to pinch her clit.
She came, shuddering in his arms as wave after wave of ecsta-
sy blanked her mind and turned her body into jelly. Lia became
vaguely aware of Jax setting her down, positioning her on her hands
and knees. Knowing what he wanted, she offered her ass to him,
moaned when he slapped each globe. Jax fumbled for something in
the room, returning moments later with the lube from the chest of
drawers by their bed.
She leaned her cheek against the cool floor while Jax nudged
her legs further apart. Heat spiked though her sensitive body once
more as he began working the slick liquid down her puckered hole.
Jax readied her for access, slipping one finger, then another in before
making twisting motions.
“Baby,” she uttered, already wanting the feel of his dick inside
her, claiming her and branding her as his.
Jax replaced digits with his prick. Gripping her hips, he
pushed his way slowly inside her asshole. She could feel her face burn
as he breached that taboo spot. God, but it felt good. Jax finally
sheathed himself fully in her ass, then began pushing in and out.
“Play with your tits,” he said.
She did as he asked, tugging and pulling at her sore nipples.
Wetness gathered in her pussy as he fucked her faster, deeper. He
started stroking her pussy lips again, rubbing her in time with his
thrusts. Jax pistoned several more times in and out of her ass before
groaning and filling her ass with his cum.
Jax thrust two fingers inside her wet pussy. Tiny fireworks
erupted inside her as she came once more, all over his fingers. Lan-
guidness filled her body. Forget about breakfast. Lia could lie on the
floor and fall asleep. She heard Jax’s footsteps on the floor. Then she
felt a towel cleaning her between the legs and ass, and Jax gathering
her in his arms.
Lia remembered to put her arms around his neck. She giggled.
“I feel like a new bride again.”
Their wedding had been simple. The only people in attendance
were her mother and some of Jax’s friends. She liked the simple cer-
emony, and wouldn’t have had it any other way. It seemed ages ago
that she ran in front of Jax’s truck, begging him for his help. Hard to
believe sometimes that she’d begun fixing her relationship with her
mother and Jax finally had a chance to build new memories with his
son.
She thought news of Amy would make Nancy deny Jax visita-
tion rights again, but it was the opposite. With Amy, Nancy had
agreed on a visiting schedule instead of the initial sporadic visits she
allowed Jax initially.
Back before she met Dwayne, all she ever dreamed about had
been traveling. Lia had achieved that during that year she and Jax
took turns driving a truck. Wants and dreams change with time, she
realized. Now, she was grateful for her beautiful daughter and the
wonderful home her man built for them.
Jax lowered her to their bed. They didn’t have much, but Lia
remembered how Jax refused to cut corners when it came to selecting
furniture of their home. I want to make sure our little girl will grow up in a safe environment, she remembered him telling her.
True to his word, every inch of the house had been baby-
proof. Jax had worries about being a bad dad, but she always knew
he’d be amazing. Jax might have made bad choices in the past. Her
husband still harbored self-doubts occasionally, but that was one of
the reasons why she was his wife. Lia would always be there, to guide
him back to the light, to remind Jax that he was a changed man, a lov-
ing and possessive husband and a doting father.
Once he joined her in bed, she nestled close to her man, her
back and ass to his chest. She sighed in contentment as he wrapped
those massive arms around her. Lia wasn’t exactly a small woman,
but with Jax, she felt tiny.
He kissed the nape of her neck. Lia twisted in his arms and
looked into his eyes.
“I love you,” she murmured, closing her hands over his.
“I fucking love you too, baby,” he said without hesitation.
www.evernightpublishing.com/winter-sloane
BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
THE HITMAN’S OBSESSION
Ivanov Crime Family, 1
Winter Sloane
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Dimitri took another round about the room, his footsteps quiet
despite his size. He was a big motherfucker and could hit like a truck,
but as muscle for the Ivanov family, he knew how to move silently in
a crowded room.
Cigarette smoke clouded the room. Loud and brash voices
were occasionally interrupted by screams and pleas. Cocky grins soon
turn to agonized wails. Dimitri couldn’t count the number of times
he’d seen arrogant bastards fall.
The moment they realized they’d lost everything, gambled
their most precious possessions—car, pretty wife, and offspring, to
the Ivanov family for a good hand of cards.
They disgusted him, yet Dimitri depended on these scum to
keep his job. Good for fucking and killing, nothing else, his father
told him once. Maybe that was true for all the men in the Ivanov fami-
ly.
Sensing someone approaching, Dimitri turned, hand resting on
the hilt of his modified Beretta. The lackey in the cheap suit took a
step back from him, gaze lingering on the grinning skulls and cross-
bones of his signature weapon.
“Problem, Johnny?” he asked. Johnny had worked under him,
a good kid. Well, Dimitri called all newbies that. Johnny worked hard,
played hard, and was loyal as hell. These days, loyalty was hard to
come by.
Johnny relaxed. “It’s time, Dimitri.”
Dimitri nodded, hooded eyes lingering on the floor. “Keep a
watch on the blackjack table number three. You’re in charge while
I’m gone.”
Johnny’s eyes widened. “Not Anatoli?”
Dimitri shook his head. “Not after he screwed up the Rossi
job.”
Striding away from the main casino floor, he headed to the
door with the sign “Employees Only” on it. The two men on guard
gave him a curt nod, letting him pass. Dimitri took a left turn. More
guards stood watch here. The boss merely wanted him to oversee pro-
cedures, to ensure this fucker Mitch Wyatt coughed up all the money
he borrowed, plus interest.
Dimitri wasn’t the family bookie, but according to Vasily, this
rat bastard needed watching. Wyatt had slipped from their radar once,
not wanting to pay back what he owed. No one fucked with the
Ivanov family and got away with it.
Giving the two suits a nod, Dimitri entered Vlad’s office. Cig-
arette smoke slipped out, along with the stink of fear. The source
came from the thin balding man. Dimitri noticed all the signs—sweat
soaked shirt and the way Wyatt’s trembling hands held onto a leather
suitcase for dear life.
Wyatt took up the couch facing the desk. The young woman
sitting beside him caught Dimitri’s attention. Frowning, he leaned
against the door.
He made sure to keep his suit jacket unbuttoned, so the rat
bastard had a perfect view of his guns. Threats always worked well.
Fear drove men to do the right thing. One look at Wyatt and Dimitri
understood why the boss man wanted him present for this meeting.
Who did Wyatt bring with him, collateral damage? Dimitri on-
ly had eyes for the woman. She must be in her early twenties. Her
white-blonde hair had been tightly constrained in a long single braid
that fell over one bare shoulder. Her heart-shaped face looked stiff,
blue eyes staring carefully at nothing.
Dimitri raked his gaze lower, from the tempting curve of her
luscious lips to the generous swell of her breasts, peeking from her
top. Fuck, but he could imagine those pouty lips wrapped around his
cock, those tits bouncing while he fucked her senseless. She had fine
curves, too, under that thin top. Dimitri bet she had a shapely ass, too.
Fuck.
It wasn’t just her body that kept him mystified, but the way
she held herself. Unlike Wyatt, she didn’t cower, or slink in defeat.
She turned his head, as if noticing the brunt of his stare.
Eyes he’d thought were blue turned out to be bi-colored. The
other iris was a bright emerald green. Both blue and green blazed with
hatred, then wary resignation.
Dimitri knew absolutely nothing about this woman, but he saw
the steel in her spine. She bit down on her lower lip so hard it began
to bleed. Looking away from his gaze, he noticed her rubbing her
palms over his jeans. Anger surged through him.
Something so pure, so blindingly hard to look at, didn’t belong
in a place like this.
What was going on with him? Dimitri shouldn’t lose his mind
over a woman. He never married, never committed to any kind of re-
lationship. No time for something like that and besides, emotions
made a killer weak. Yet seeing this mystery blonde put strange sug-
gestions in his head.
“Why is the Ivanov Hound here?” Wyatt asked, looking nerv-
ously at him. Wyatt couldn’t hold his gaze for long. Most people
flinched, seeing the scars.
“Calm down, Wyatt. Dimitri is merely here for security’s sake,
to make sure you wouldn’t run again,” Vlad stated, rubbing his hands
together.
“I won’t think of it.” Wyatt gripped the handle of the suitcase
harder. “That’s why I brought my daughter along.”
Dimitri didn’t like the way Vlad looked at the woman, like a
man appraising his new conquest. Then again, Vlad looked at all
women that way. Vlad represented humanity’s worst, but Vlad was
Vasily’s brother, therefore untouchable.
Dimitri cracked his knuckles, and the popping sound made
Wyatt jump in his seat. Vlad threw him a glare, but didn’t tell him off.
The fucker knew better than that, given Dimitri was the family’s best
bogeyman.
Dimitri didn’t like the fact Wyatt never referred to his daugh-
ter by name, as if he wanted to disassociate himself with the filthy
deed he was about to do.
“What’s her name?” he practically barked.
Wyatt’s eyes widened, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
The woman lifted her chin and met his gaze again, undaunted
by his scars, size, or the gun peeking from his jacket. “Sonia.”
Vlad chuckled, as if this was all some comedy show to him.
“Never seen the Hound so unsettled by pussy.”
Dimitri’s fingers twitched. It would be so easy to wrap his fin-
gers around the comforting handle of his gun and shoot several holes
into Vlad’s body. Calming his temper, he settled for crossing his arms
instead. What the fuck? Dimitri had been this close to signing his own
death sentence over a stranger.
Vasily Ivanov might value his skills, but the Bratva had iron-
clad rules about family. Vlad was blood, and despite all of Dimitri’s
contributions, he wasn’t a real Ivanov. His father, brothers, grew up
by the gun and died by it, too, leaving Dimitri an orphaned killer.
The head of the Ivanov family took him in, taught him loyalty,
and gave him an identity. Dimitri had vowed to give Vasily Ivanov his
loyalty until his death. He could endure scum like Vlad.
Looking disappointed Dimitri hadn’t reacted to the comment,
Vlad returned his attention to Wyatt. “Let’s get on with business.”
Shaking, Wyatt unclasped the case. Dimitri frowned, watching
the man closely, in case Wyatt might be stupid enough to pull a fast
one on them. The chances were small, given his daughter was beside
him. Dimitri made it point to never underestimate people so he could
never be surprised.
Desperate men did foolish things. Period.
Stacked dollar bills lined the case. Wyatt began laying in all
out on the paper.
“Dimitri, let Tommy in. He’s my counter,” Vlad said.
Dimitri opened the door. “Tommy. Vlad needs you.”
He couldn’t bring himself to call Vlad “boss”. That title Dimi-
tri reserved for Vasily. Vlad had a long way to go before earning Di-
mitri’s respect or that of his men.
One of the two muscle heads entered and quickly counted the
bills.
Tommy traded a look with Vlad. Dimitri already knew Wyatt
didn’t bring it all.
“Missing the eight percent interest,” Tommy announced.
Dimitri continued watching Sonia, who dug her nails into her
palm so hard, skin bled. Her pathetic excuse of a father had known, he
realized. Wyatt had no intention of bringing her back home with him.
“Y-you said if I bring my daughter, we can forget about inter-
est. She’s still a virgin,” Wyatt said, as if that last bit helped.
Dimitri quietly seethed.
“Why don’t we see for ourselves, eh?” Vlad pointed out.
“Dad, what’s happening?” Sonia whispered, leveling fright-
ened eyes at her father.
Wyatt didn’t tell her a thing. That only fueled Dimitri’s rage.
What kind of father gave up his daughter to Russian mafia, to men
like Vlad who didn’t give two fucks about rules?
Tommy started transferring the pile of cash into a small black
duffel—clearing the desk, Dimitri realized. He had a bad feeling he
knew what was about to take place, and it turned his stomach. Before
Vlad took over the family book keeping, they’d never dealt with flesh.
Dimitri had never signed on for this kind of distasteful shit.
Wyatt was halfway out of his seat, but Dimitri moved to block
the door, lips peeled back to a snarl. Sonia remained in her seat, look-
ing like a pale doll as the truth finally dawned in her eyes.
“Good job, Dimitri,” Vlad called, like he was some dog the
asshole could order around.
Needing to unleash his rage on someone, Dimitri shoved Wy-
att back in his seat. Gunfire erupted, making him jump back. Sonia
screamed, toppling out of her seat until her back hit the wall.
A
neat bullet hole found itself at the center of Wyatt’s fore-
head, except the wound wasn’t neat. Chunks of skin and face had
been blown off. Vlad pretended to blow off smoke from his gun.
“What the fuck, Vlad?” Dimitri demanded. “We kill clients
now? We lend people money, they pay us back. We’ll lose out if word
gets out.”
“No one will know. Bring the girl to me,” Vlad said, licking
his lips. The disgusting son-of-a-bitch set his revolver on top of his
desk and began jerking his zipper down. Tommy finished putting the
last wad of cash in the bag.
Vlad raised an eyebrow when Dimitri didn’t move. Sonia
started to make little pained noises. She slumped against the wall.
Specks of blood splattered her face and the front of her top, all of it
belonging to her father.
“Shut the bitch up. Dimitri, don’t make me repeat myself. If
you’re not man enough, I’ll ask Tommy.” Vlad spoke in a bored
voice, but his face told Dimitri otherwise.
Vlad took sick pleasure in claiming Sonia in front of Dimitri,
knowing full well Dimitri had been entranced by her. Tommy took a
step towards her, halting when Dimitri held out a hand.
“I got this.”
“Don’t worry. I share my possessions among my men. Just
wait your turn,” Vlad told him with a sneer.
End of sample chapter
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/hitmans-obsession-by-
winter-sloane
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