Anatoly Medlov (18 page)

“
Da
,” Anatoly answered absently. It was hard for him to focus with his every thought returning to Renee.

Destiny turned to him. She could see the frown lines in his prefect face. He was somewhat of an enigma to her. Even though he was a cold-hearted killer and a guns dealer, he was also very kind and thoughtful. It was his duality that vexed her, than warmed and warned her at the same time.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” she asked softly.

“No,” Anatoly said, putting his wall up. He put his hand in her hair and felt the soft, cotton tendrils in his hand. “I just want to have a good time. What about you? You up for it?”

“Umm,” she said, closing her eyes as he massaged her head. “I could use a good time.”

Reaching into his pocket with his other hand, he pulled out his phone and called someone.

“Vasily, bring up some absinthe for us,” Anatoly said, winking at Destiny. He closed the phone and shoved it back into his dark jeans.

“Absinthe?” Destiny asked.

“You don’t like the green fairy? My father owns a bottling plant of the shit right outside of Prague.”

“It’s illegal here,” she said apprehensive.

There was a hard knock on the door – Vasily. Anatoly turned to her and gave a clever smirk. “What are you, a cop? Name one piss test at your job that would tst for the stuff? It’s legal in half the UK. American’s are slow, though you claim to be progressive. This is just one example of how you continue to fall behind the eight ball.”

“Well, if we’re so far behind, why are you here?” she asked offended.

“A patriot.” Anatoly smirked.

Vasily brought in a beautiful, crystal reservoir filled half way with green liquid and a silver, absinthe spoon. Setting it on the table, he nodded towards his boss and left.

“Is he your bodyguard or your personal butler?” Destiny asked, following Anatoly back inside the room.

“He’s Vasily,” Anatoly said, offering her a seat across from his bed.

“So this liquor is supposed to do what?” she asked.

“Technically, it’s not liquor. It’s a spirit,” he said, putting the absinthe spoon on the rim of a very elaborate glass. She watched as he put a cube of sugar on the spoon, then grabbed a pitcher of ice-cold water and slowly poured in on the cube and down into the glass.

Bending down, she watched the green liquid slowly
louche
. She looked up at him and smiled in wonderment. She’d never seen it up close.

When he finished, he tasted it first then passed the glass to her before he made himself a glass.

Common sense told Destiny to put the glass down, but the excited curiosity building in her stomach would not allow her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she put her lips to the glass and slowly tilted it. The liquid numbed her lips, tingling the bottom one especially. Finally, she opened her mouth and allowed it to flood in.

Anatoly sat beside her. He fixed a much bigger glass and sipped it at first then tilted it up and swallowed it all in one big gulp.

She looked over at him and laughed, shrugging her shoulders at him.

“I feel funny,” she said, moving her hair from her face.

“Let’s have another,
eh
?” he said, going back to the table.

“I don’t know if I should,” Destiny protested.

“You only live once.” He winked at her. “You really feel the effects after three. So, we’ll drink three together, and then we’ll go downstairs with the others.”

Destiny pursed her lips together. A warm wave washed over her. Nodding, she took a deep breath. “Okay, but for everyone that I drink, you have to drink.”

“Sound good to me.”

Chapter Twelve

Memphis, TN

The alarm blasted, bolting Destiny awake. Jumping up, she looked around and realized that she was in her own bed, back in Memphis. Fully dressed, she stood up and looked around. Her vision doubled, head pounded. Leaning against the wall, she put her hands on her face and wiped the make-up from her skin.

Ugh
, she hated when she went to bed without washing her face. It always felt grimy the next day.

Flashes of the night before flickered in the back of her mind. The swimming pool. The people. The drinking. The sex...

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, grabbing her heart. She had sex with Anatoly last night.

She made her way to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Water flooded into her cupped hands. She splashed her face and suddenly remembered his hands on her breasts. His mouth on her vagina. His fingers inside her.

Swallowing hard, she turned off the water and looked at herself in the mirror. More flashes came. Waves of sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.

She could still smell him on her. He was deep down inside her. He was in her hair. He was under her nails. He was on her neck and her lips. She reeked of expensive cologne. Her body ached in the most intimate of places.

She couldn’t bear to stare at herself a moment longer. Turning on the shower, she ripped off her clothes and put them in the garbage. It hadn’t been rape. She remembered kissing him. She remembered pulling her dress off and walking into the pool. He had watched her and then joined her.

The music was blaring. Lights flashed out from the bare windows. People danced about, screamed and laughed. But his presence had drowned them out. In the water, naked and rock hard, he had kissed her, told her that he was lonely, told her that she was beautiful, told her that he was the boss. And that was when she had given in to him.

It was the heady combination of truth and lies, of power and seduction that had made her do it. And while the absinthe had numbed her from guilt, it had not numbed her from want. And she did want him.

They made love in the infinity pool, below a perfect sky, in the warm water illuminated by blue and white lights with the crowds of people inside, only kept at bay by the bodyguards, who turned their backs to give them privacy.

It had been the first time that she had made love in public, but he had made it perfect. She remembered floating in the warm water, nipples exposed and erect. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, his penis prodding against her. She remember curiously looking up to see the people on the second floor looking out of the window, watching in amusement.

She remembered realizing that she had gone too far, embered rith ever pump of her body, with ever lick of breasts, with every kiss, she found it harder to ask Anatoly to stop. Somewhere in between the heated sex and the absinthe, she forgot about the real world. The green fairy had made her forget about reality. She was in a dream.

With waves crashing against her body, and his strong arms gripping her, he had made her climax in the pool. By the end of their interlude, she was pushed against the side, crying in torment of the pleasure that he provided. She screamed aloud into his mouth as he kissed her, holding her hair in the tight grip of his hand. His blue eyes seemed a thousand miles away. He had finished himself, inside her. Hot seed pushed into her body and stopped at his latex guard. He had whispered naughty things to her. “I want to come inside of you without this damned thing,” he had said. “If you stay, I will,” he had promised. Her eyes were heavy, drowning in the very spirits that he had served her. So, he held her head up and spoke into her ear. “Destiny, did you come here to fulfill your name?”

Afterwards, he had carried her out of the pool in his strong arms, dressed her in a white robe and escorted her upstairs with the bodyguards pushing people out of their way as they went. They all looked on, sharing the knowledge of what had just happened. Suddenly, she had felt ashamed, and wished more than anything to be far away from them all. But he had assured her, “As long as you’re honest with me, I’ll protect you.”

In the bedroom, he had rested beside her on the bed, holding her close with his rippling chest to her back. In a growl, he had reminded her of his promise.

“I have to get you home,” he said, rubbing through her hair. “Unless you want to stay here forever. Miami’s a nice place. You can start over here. Walk away from Memphis for good.”

“And what am I supposed to do here?” she had asked, looking across the room at the patio door.

“You could write. You wrote all those stories in the magazine, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” she smirked.

“Well, maybe, you could get a job working for a paper here. I could help you do that.”

She had turned to him, looked him in his eyes and knew that
he knew
who she was.

Cover blown, she lamented. “I can’t,” she said, voice aching. “I have to go back. Face the music.”

“You sure you want to do that? It won’t be a pretty tune.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

He had nodded his head and got up from the bed. He was still naked. She looked at his tattoos, his stocky, taut frame. Her tired body shivered from the absinthe. He had pulled the covers over her to keep her warm.

He looked down at the carpet, shoulders slumped over, feeling rejected. “Well, thank you. I’m sure it won’t seem lik/font>y morning, but I enjoyed your company.” With those words, he had disappeared into his bathroom, and she had fallen asleep.

The next thing she remembered, she woke up here.

The hot water from the showerhead ran over her face and wiped the invisible sin away. She soaped her body and pondered
what had he meant by his last statement
?

After a long shower, after the hot water had turned cold, she stepped out and dried her body off. Her cell phone had eight missed calls. Some were from her fiancé, some from Agosto. She dreaded both.

How would she hide what had happened? Maybe no one knew.
It will all make more sense once I’ve eaten,
she thought.

Once she was dressed, she dragged herself into the kitchen to fix breakfast. Her place seemed like a box now after spending a night with a mob boss.

Boom! Boom! Boom!
A police knock on her door. She went to it reluctantly. Peering out of the peephole, she saw Agosto.

She opened the door slowly and moved out of the way to let him inside.

He walked briskly past her, his cologne lingering behind. “I’ve tried to call you a hundred damned times,” he said gruffly.

“I know. I was sleep.”

“Late night in Miami, huh?”

She looked up at him. “Yeah.” Closing the door, she turned and folded her arms in front of her.

“You’re off this case,” he said, face red. He clenched his wide jaw and pulled his hands out of his pockets.

“If you could just let me explain...” she said, unable to look up at him.

“Explain how a video of you being fucked by a Russian mob boss is posted all over the internet? Explain how you’ve made a mockery of this department, of Harrison and of yourself. Explain that?”

Her mouth fell. “What?”

“Don’t
what
me? There is a video of you at a party at Anatoly’s house in South Beach being fucked by him in his pool. You appear lucid. You appear willing. And you appear to
enjoy
it.”

Tears formed in her eyes.

Agosto shook his head. “I’m here to collect your badge and gun. You’re on suspension. And investigation into your
entire life
is underway, though, you have to know that.”

She shook her head, then walked into her bedroom and grabbed her badge and gun from the lock box under her bed.

With her knees planted on the floor, she began to cry. Now, she knew what Anatoly had meant by his last statement. He had set her up. He had ruined her life.

Agosto walked into the bedroom and leaned against the door. His tough exterior dropped. He shook his head, hating to see a woman cry. “Why’d you fuck up so bad?” he asked. In truth, he liked her. And he would have like to see a young woman like her take the Medlov men down.

“I don’t know,” she said, pulling her head up off her mattress. She looked at him. “I really don’t know.”

“Your career as a cop is over. I can’t officially confirm it for you. The board will decide that, but I can tell you that I’ve
never
heard of anyone coming back from something like this.”

“What should I do?”

Agosto took a stick of gum from his pocket and slipped into his mouth. “Quit,” he said finally. “Focus on saving your relationship with your fiancé. Leave the city. Start over. Change your name, explain this to your parents before someone else does. I could go on.”

“You’re not the first one to tell me that,” she said, wiping the tears from her face.

“Yeah, well, you probably should have taken
his
advice.” He walked over and took the gun and badge from her. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said, putting the badge in his pocket. “Don’t go see Anatoly; don’t kill yourself; don’t fuck up anymore than you already have. Your next move will come to you. But you’ve got to wait for it. Plus, there is still Harrison to deal with. The boys say he’s really taking it hard. Not that I could blame him. I had a fiancé once.” He reached out and touched her face. “It isn’t the end of the world, just the end of your career.”