Sasha & Andriena #1 (Lovers & Sinners) (7 page)

“Nope! You have to do
this one itsy-bitsy thing for me, then I promise on my Uncle Christo’s grave
that I’ll leave you
all
alone.”

Exhaling, he turned
around, willing to do anything to get rid of the annoying woman. A smack landed
on his ass, making him yell out in surprise. He spun around, finding Andriena
laughing so hard she was wobbling all over the place.

“Look who’s gullible
now!” she hooted.

“You swore on your
uncle’s grave,” he snapped.

“My evil uncle
doesn’t have a grave, he was blown,” she imitated a bomb sound, “to
smithereens.” She twirled her finger. “Turn around again; I want to smack your
culo
more. This time I’ll promise on my grave. You’re so gullible you’ll believe
it.” She burst out laughing again, looking unsteady on her feet. A second
later, her legs went out from under her, Andriena landing on her ass. She
continued laughing, the alcohol cushioning the blow.

“You’re a god-awful
drunk,” he growled.

“I am!”

She started crawling
to the bed on her hands and knees. He followed her, tempted to smack her ass
too, but refraining, the woman probably too drunk to feel it.

She pulled herself up
onto the bed and turned over. “You are so hot,” she said, holding her arms out.
“Fuck me.”

“Fuck yourself.”

She smiled. “I can’t,
I don’t have a cock.” She reached out for his, making him take a step back.

“Keep your hands to
yourself.”

She let out a huge
sigh. “Why are all the hot ones either gay, porn stars, or grumpy bums.” She
let out another sigh. “Guess I have to dream about you fucking me.”

“The only dreams you
should be having about me are fucking nightmares.”

“No, wet dreams,” she
giggled.

He shook his head,
thinking the woman was sex mad. Annoyed, he spun around and went back to the
corner. He sat down and glared across the room at her, mad that she had the bed
as well as his food. But there was no way he was sleeping next to her,
especially not after what she’d said.

Wanting to go back to
sleep, he closed his eyes, but reopened them as Andriena started snoring. “Shut
up,” he snapped. She continued, making him regret giving her his food and wine.
He closed his eyes again, praying for sleep... and to be free from the
blue-eyed devil.

6

ANDRIENA

Andriena opened her
eyes, instantly regretting it. Groaning, she brought a hand to her face,
wondering what had happened, because her head was killing her—much more than
usual. The memory of drinking Sasha’s wine came back and... She groaned louder,
also remembering coming onto him. She pushed up in bed and looked across at
Sasha. He was lying in the far corner, looking fast asleep.

The door opened, capturing
her attention. Nikita and two armed guards entered, followed by three servants,
who were carrying trays of food—too much for one person. She spotted spaghetti
and a chocolate
torta
, her favorite meal. They laid it down on the table,
along with another carafe of wine, the servants quickly leaving.

Nikita indicated to
the food. “You can both eat now.”

“But I already ate,”
she said.

“Two days ago.”

Her eyebrows shot up.
“I slept for two days?”

“
Da
.” His pale
gaze moved to Sasha, who was still lying on the floor. “I think you should
check on him. He hasn’t eaten for a week.”

“What?”

“He gave up food he
badly needed, so go feed him. He looks like he’s passed out, rather than
willingly sleeping.”

Nikita left the room
with the guards, locking the door behind him.

Andriena pushed off
the bed and went to Sasha, who had his face buried in his arms. She gave him a
shake. He moaned, but didn’t awaken. She shook him again, getting another moan.

“Sasha, wake up,” she
said. “We have food.”

He turned his head to
look at her, making her gasp. The man was absolutely stunning. The swelling on
his face had disappeared, revealing hollowed cheeks, while his bruising had faded,
his blond stubble paling it further. And the line of his jaw, the sweep of his
brow, his full lips ... everything was perfect ... minus the darkness under his
eyes. He looked exhausted and a touch pale, the color in his cheeks gone.

“There’s food for
you,” she said.

He closed his eyes.
“Too tired.”

“You need to eat.”

“Can’t.”

“I’ll bring it to you,
then.”

She got up and went
to the table, bringing over the tray with the Beef Stroganoff as well as a
bottle of water. She sat down on the floor in front of him and speared a piece
of beef, holding it out for him to eat. When he didn’t move, she pressed it
against his lips. He opened his mouth and took a bite, running his lips over
the plastic fork, drawing the morsel off it. He chewed on it for a few seconds,
then swallowed it down, drawing her attention to his throat, his Adam’s apple
bobbing up and down.

“More,” he said, snapping
her out of her fixation.

Feeling flustered, she
quickly speared another piece of beef and placed it to his lips, watching as he
wrapped his mouth around the fork again. Heat bloomed below, making her drop
her gaze, guilt hitting her. The man was unwell, yet she was looking at him
with desire? What was wrong with her?

He asked for more
again. Trying not to look at his lips, other than to get the food into his mouth,
she continued feeding him. After a minute, he placed a hand over hers, groaning,
“Enough.”

She looked up, seeing
him grimacing. “Are you all right?”

“Too much food. I
haven’t eaten in days. It’s hurting my stomach.”

“Sorry.” She went to
push up with the tray.

His hand whipped out,
stopping her. “I need water.”

“Okay.” She passed him
the bottle and got up, returning the tray to the table. Her eyes zeroed in on
the plate of spaghetti, which was obviously her dish. Feeling famished, she sat
down at the table and started eating, believing the guard in regards to how
long she’d slept. Plus, she could never hold her liquor, alcohol affecting her more
due to her brain injury.

She finished the
spaghetti fast, then tucked into the chocolate
torta
, groaning as the
rich flavor hit her taste buds. She wondered whether she was being treated
better because of her sister. She couldn’t imagine Camila giving up on her. She
just hoped that the Black Russian took Jagger’s money instead of enjoying his
body, because her sister’s boyfriend hated being touched by men. The poor man
had been badly abused by one of her uncles, the one she’d stabbed in the leg
for trying to assault her lover.

Once she’d finished
her food and had some wine, making sure to only have one glass, she returned
her attention to Sasha. He was in the process of curling up, looking like he
was going back to sleep.

“You can have the
bed,” she said, wanting to do more for him. She still couldn’t believe he’d
given up his food for her, even more so after finding out he hadn’t eaten in so
long. It just made the gesture all that more poignant. She wanted to hug him
for it, but knew he wouldn’t take too kindly to that.

“I’m fine,” he said,
being overly stoic.

“No you’re not, so
take it. You need it more than me.”

He uncurled himself
and sat up. “You sure?” he asked, looking hopeful.

She nodded and pushed
off the bed.

“
Spasibo
,” he
thanked her.

He rose to his feet, looking
unsteady. She went to him, placing an arm around his waist. He didn’t protest,
allowing her to help him to the bed. She laid him down on the mattress, noticing
a smudge above his brow. She wiped at it.

He jerked his head
away. “What are you doing?”

“You had some dirt on
your face.”

“You don’t need to
baby me, I can wipe it myself.” He grimaced, a pained expression crossing his
face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to relieve
myself.”

He swung his legs
over the side of the bed and went to push up, but fell back onto the mattress.
He swore and pushed up again, still looking wobbly. Like before, she slipped an
arm around his waist to steady him. He exhaled loudly, but didn’t complain. She
helped him to the bucket in the corner of the room.

“Close your eyes,” he
said.

She did.

After several
seconds, he muttered, “You can look now.”

She opened her eyes
and helped him back to the bed, laying him down on it. Grabbing the towel off
the table, she wet it and cleaned his hands, relieved he hadn’t told her off
for her drunken behavior. She almost smiled, but refrained, knowing he’d
probably question her over it. Still, she was pleased the tensions between them
had eased.

“You can sleep next
to me if you wish,” he said. “Just don’t touch me sexually.”

“Of course I won’t,”
she replied, feeling a little annoyed he thought she would. “And why do you
have such a complex, especially since your cock is constantly hard.”

He grimaced. “I don’t
have sex with women.”

Her eyebrows shot up.
“You’re gay?”

“No, I’m celibate!”

She held her hands
up. “
Whoa
, you don’t need to bite my head off. Your wording confused
me.”

He exhaled and wiped
his face. “I’m sorry. Not eating for days has worn me out.”

“Then, go to sleep.”

He nodded and turned
over, falling asleep within minutes.

Facing away from him,
she lay down on the bed, her gaze fixing on the viewing-window. Nikita was standing
behind it, watching her through the glass. “Do you know if I’m going to be set
free?”

“It’s looking likely,”
Nikita replied over the intercom. “Jagger has started to capitulate to my
master’s demands.”

Although she felt
sorry for her sister’s boyfriend, her relief was greater. “What about Sasha?”

“What about him?”

“Will the Black
Russian ever let him go?”

Nikita shook his
head. “Feed him, look after him, be nice to him, because once you leave the
cell, he won’t ever know kindness again.”

7

ANDRIENA

Andriena woke to find
Sasha lying next to her, staring at her mouth, looking like he wanted to devour
it. Feeling self-conscious, she bit her bottom lip, making his gaze snap up to
hers. A flush of red hit his cheeks. She smiled, no longer feeling
self-conscious, his embarrassment amusing her. He scrunched up his nose, looking
like he was going to tell her off for smiling. Or maybe he was going to fabricate
an excuse for staring.

Before he could, she cut
him off. “How long did I sleep for this time?” she asked, wanting to defuse the
situation before he provoked an argument.

“Overnight,” he
answered, glancing at the table. “They brought us breakfast.”

She didn’t move, more
interested in looking at his stunning face, the dark rings under his eyes now
gone. Not only that, her fear of him was weakening by the day, his peace
offering more than making up for his nasty behavior.

Her eyes lowered to
his lips, contemplating kissing them. Wanting to. Aching to. The man a
temptation spread out before her. She just wasn’t sure how he’d react. He was
giving off mixed signals, his aroused reactions contradicting his usually
prudish behavior.

“There’s breakfast on
the table,” he repeated, his voice growing harsher.

She raised her gaze,
seeing tension behind his gray eyes. She couldn’t tell whether it was anger or
an imprisoned desire.

“Stop staring at me,”
he snapped, his tone answering her.

She rolled her eyes,
thinking he had a nerve. “You are one contradictory man,” she said, pushing out
of bed. Not waiting for a reply, she sat down at the table and picked up the brioche,
more interested in eating than arguing.

“Stop!” Sasha barked.

She froze with the
brioche a bite away.

He jumped out of bed
and snatched it out of her hand. “We have to feed each other,” he said, dumping
it on her plate.

“Why?”

“For the Black
Russian’s amusement.”

She looked over at
the viewing-window, not seeing the man, only Nikita watching them. “But he’s
not here.”

“He doesn’t need to
be. We’re being filmed.”

Her gaze snapped back
to him. “I don’t see any cameras.”

“They’re in the light
fixtures and the small holes in the wall.”

Andriena sat up
straighter, looking at the holes in a new light. Before she’d thought they were
just flaws, so hadn’t paid them any attention. But now, she could see they were
all the same size, their uniformity without a doubt manmade.

“Do you think he’s
been watching us the whole time?” she asked.

“I doubt it; the
Black Russian’s a very busy man.”

“Then, why would he
film us?”

“Just in case we do
something interesting. He also sells the videos.”

Andriena’s eyes
widened.  “To who?”

“Voyeurs.”

Horrified, she pushed
out of her seat and pointed at the bucket. “Were they filming while I went to
the toilet?”

“
Da.
The
cameras run twenty-four-seven.”

“
Why?
What
sort of people would want to watch that?” Absolutely disgusted, she indicated
to Nikita. “Even the guards look away when I go to the toilet.”

“Voyeurs should be
the least of your worries.” Sasha breathed out. “And please don’t ask me
questions if you think you won’t like the answers.”

“If you think I’m
going to get upset, lie or don’t reply,” she spat, still reeling over being
filmed. She found it incomprehensible that someone would want to watch her go
to the toilet. Now, if she was having sex, she could understand people wanting
to see that. She
loved
porn, was even addicted to it before she’d been
sold, but to watch someone crapping or crawling around like an animal... That
was just fucked up.

“I can’t always tell
what’ll upset you,” Sasha replied.

She waved her hand
about. “Well, obviously telling me that people are watching me piss and shit
would upset me.”

Sasha started
massaging his temples. “It isn’t obvious to me. I have Aspergers. It’s hard for
me to empathize.”

Andriena stopped
waving her hand about and sat back down at the table, his lack of social skills
now making sense. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling a bit guilty for going off at
him.

“You don’t have to
apologize, it’s not like I’m dying.” He dropped his hands and looked across at
her. “Everyone has their issues.”

“I most certainly do.
I used to be extremely intelligent.”

He pulled a face, looking
like he didn’t believe her.

“It’s true. They said
I was a genius when I was twelve.”

“Don’t make fun of
me! What I told you isn’t a joke.”

“I’m not joking. When
I was thirteen I almost died in a car crash. I literally had some of my brain
scooped out. That’s why I have memory problems.” She paused for a moment, regret
filling her mind. If she hadn’t accepted a lift home with her friend everything
would’ve been different. For one thing, she knew she wouldn’t be here. Or even
in this part of the world. She’d been offered a scholarship to study in America,
with a promising future in medicine. Now, all she was offered was derision and
no promise of a future at all.

She continued, “Do
you know how hard it is going from being extremely intelligent to dumb just
like that?”

“It would be
horrible,” Sasha replied, no longer looking angry, his expression instead full
of curiosity.

She nodded. “It was,
and still is. People call me a ditz, a moron, stupid, airhead,
birdbrain
,”
she emphasized the word he’d used, his derision having hurt her, “the list goes
on.”

He grimaced. “I’m
sorry for saying that.”

Her eyebrows shot up.
“Did you actually apologize to me?”

His grimace grew.
“I’ve apologized once before, so don’t make a big deal about it or I’ll take it
back.”

She smiled, amused by
his embarrassed gruffness. “I much prefer you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Nice.”

“I’m far from nice,
woman.”

“Can you stop calling
me that?”

“It’s what you are.”

“But not who I am.
Please call me Andriena.”

“Fine,
Andriena
.”

“
Grazie
, I
mean, thank you.”

“You don’t have to
translate for me.”

“Oh,” she said,
remembering he knew Italian. “Looks like I should apologize too.”

“For what?”

“For saying those
nasty words to you the other day.”

“I deserved them.”

Her smile resurfaced.
“Well, maybe the part about your balls swiveling into raisins.”

He tensed.

“Ah... I didn’t mean
anything by it,” she said, not understanding his upset reaction. “It was just a
joke.”

He didn’t reply, still
looking upset.

“You want to see my
scars?” she asked, hoping to distract him.

His upset expression
dropped, curiosity once again lighting his gray eyes. “What scars?”

“The ones from the
car accident.” She leaned her head down and parted her hair. “This is only one
of many on my head. If I was bald, you’d think Freddy Krueger had attacked me.”

“Who?”

She let go of her
hair and looked up. “The villain from
A Nightmare on Elm Street
.”

“I don’t know him,
and what’s the nightmare thing?”

“A famous film.”

“The only films I was
permitted to watch were educational ones or the videos the Black Russian produces,
like what’s being filmed now.” He made a face. “I said the wrong thing again,
didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault,”
she replied, surprised he was being so nice.

“Can we stop talking?”
he said, shifting about in his seat, looking uncomfortable again. “I’d rather
eat.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

She reached across
the table and picked up his spoon, dipping it into the porridge in front of
him. She scooped some up and held it out for him to eat. He closed his lips around
the spoon, drawing her attention to his mouth again. He had the most sensual
lips, full and nibble worthy, a real treat to look at.

He moved his head
back, swallowing the porridge down. “You can move the spoon back,” he said,
making her realize she was still holding it out, his lips having distracted
her.

She retracted it, relieved
he hadn’t snapped at her for staring again.

Ignoring the brioche,
he leaned across the table and picked up her plastic fork, spearing some cubed
fruit. He dipped it in the container of yogurt and held it out for her to eat.
She wrapped her lips around the food and pulled it off the fork, amused he was doing
the same thing as she had.

She swallowed the
food down. “You can move the fork back,” she said, licking her lips to
emphasize her point.

A blush hit his cheeks
again, causing a thrill to race through her. She’d never understood why her
sisters liked to tease men—to tempt them, to play with them—until now, this new
found control she felt over Sasha empowering.

He dropped his hand
and speared some more fruit, dipping it in the yogurt again. “I was just
waiting for you to finish,” he said, lifting the fork back up.

Not believing him,
she took another bite, feeling a dribble of yogurt running down her chin. Before
she could wipe it, Sasha reached over the table and thumbed it away, his touch
lingering for a moment too long. Smiling, she went to suck his thumb into her
mouth, but he whipped his hand back, his face turning beet red. She found it
strange that he could be so harsh and forthright, but when it came to anything
sexual, he either pushed her away or blushed like a schoolboy. She wondered
whether he was a virgin, especially since he’d mentioned being celibate.

“Well, you going to
feed me?” he asked a bit too harshly.

Biting back another
smile, she reached forward and scooped up more of his porridge, holding it out
for him to take. Keeping his eyes down, he closed his mouth around the spoon,
pulling it off.

“Why are you
celibate?” she asked.

Porridge sprayed out
of his mouth. He coughed and wiped his face, giving her a glare. “Why did you
ask that?”

“Because I’m
curious.”

“Well, it’s none of your
business, so keep your stupid questions to yourself and feed me.”

“Not until you tell
me why you’re celibate, because, Sasha, you were getting turned on then.”

“I was not!”

“Then why are your
cheeks bright red, and why do you keep looking at my mouth like you want to
devour it?”

“You look at my mouth
too.”

“Because you have
very sexy lips.”

“No, I don’t,” he
snapped.

She smiled. “Looks
like I’m not the only one who can act like a baby.”

“I don’t act like a
baby,” he said, indignantly.

“You’re right.”

He nodded his head
emphatically. “You bet I am.”

“Because you act more
like a teenage boy, one who’s never had sex.”

“I’ve had sex!”

“Why are you
yelling?”

“You’re insulting
me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Well, it sure as
hell felt like it.” He pushed out of his seat and went to the bed. “I’ve lost
my appetite.”

“I haven’t, so feed me.”

“Feed yourself,
woman
.”

“I’m not allowed to
and don’t get petty.”

“You should’ve
thought about that before getting into an argument with me.”

She exhaled. “Okay,
I’m sorry. Just come back and feed me.”

“No.”

“
Come on
, I
apologized. I can’t do much more than that.”

Grunting something in
Russian, he got up and grabbed his tray. He headed for her side, barking, “Move
over.”

“Play nice,” she
said, shifting for him.

“I will as long as
you don’t talk to me.”

She smiled. “You’re
amusing sometimes.”

“I said no talking!”

“Were you some kind
of leader before being imprisoned, because you love barking orders.”

“What part of
no
talking
don’t you understand?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll
keep quiet.”
Although she didn’t want to
. Instead, she wanted to talk
and talk and talk; anything to stop her thinking about the cameras.

Needing to distract
herself, she scooped up more of his food and held it out for him to take. He
swallowed the porridge down faster than the speed of light as though he was
afraid she’d get turned on.