Vik (Shot Callers 2)

I loved this man. I loved him in a way no other could replicate. But unless he was willing to give me all of him, I couldn’t do this.

I deserved more.

He lifted his head, and his hooded gaze went to my swollen lips. As he opened his mouth to speak, a knock came from outside the pantry.

“Uh, guys?” It was Mina. “It kind of sounded like two racoons fighting in a trash can from out here.” She paused. “Is everything okay?”

Vik slowly let me down, studying my face as if trying to memorize every inch of it. My feet touched the floor, and I released the front of his Henley, smoothing my fingers over the now-scrunched material. When he stepped back, I wobbled on the spot, feeling awfully bereft of the warmth of his body.

We watched each other closely, and when my expression fell, Vik’s turned sullen.

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing, simply brushing my fingers against his as I swept past him and opened the door to the pantry.

Mina took one look at me, and her brows rose to her damn hairline. “Oh.”

Great. I looked that good, huh?

My cheeks heating, I ran a hand over my hair and refused to look at her. “So, I’m just gonna go.”

“Uh huh,” she muttered distractedly, inspecting me without shame.

And just because I wanted to avoid a situation, I slunk out the back door, just as Mina said, “Wow, Vik. Just wow.”

I didn’t wait to hear his response. I just needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I was moister than an oyster, horny as hell, and I needed to do something about that.

Call it self-care.

2

Nastasia

I woke in the morning with the strangest feeling I dreamed it all. I mean, I knew I hadn’t. I wore the evidence right there on my skin. The marks on my back from being thrown up against a wall, the slight beard rash on my chin, along with semi-swollen lips were more than enough to convict.

It happened, all right.

Confirmed twice over when I checked the text Vik sent me at 11:00 p.m.

Vik: We good?

It was the first time we’d connected via phone in almost two months.

I wondered if I should text back or not. Opening the line of communication was a dangerous thing for us. We could go from zero to a hundred real quick.

If history was ever to repeat itself, a single text could change everything.

My body felt light, having found my release for the second time that night, and I panted, throwing down my vibrator before checking my phone. My stomach tightened as I stared at the open screen, and because I was mildly satiated, I ran my legs over my silk sheets, savoring the feel of them as I texted back.

Me: Of course.

His response was immediate.

Vik: Good.

I should not have engaged, but hell, I was only human. Like an addict, I was already itching to text him back, but if I had proven anything to myself over the last few months, it was that I was stronger than I gave myself credit for, even if that strength was costing me my happiness momentarily. A heavy sadness went through me as I placed my phone on the nightstand and attempted to sleep, but it was difficult.

A mile a minute, my brain ran with thoughts, and while I tried to calm, unsurprisingly, they had the opposite effect.

The thought of him alone in his bed with nothing but me on his mind had my body turning restless. My mind took me back to the pantry scene, and, sweet Jesus, the harsh angles of his face had my legs squeezing together tightly, a dull throb below my belly. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut through diamond. A strong jaw that just begged to be nibbled. There was something endearing about that slightly crooked nose, one that had clearly taken a hit a time or two in the past. The heaviness of his brow gave him an air of being perpetually pissed off, but his sapphire-like eyes seemed to soften that part of him. His stance was one of cool conviction, almost an air of nobility to his gait. And those lips—ugh—full and lush and inviting, with a thin scar running through the left side of them.

I had kissed that scar a thousand times, and I ached to kiss it a thousand more.

Vik exposed a nerve I buried deep inside me.

Worst of all, he unlocked the box I’d buried even deeper than those feelings, where a single ember of hope still burned. So, when I received another message ten minutes later, my stomach knotted in anticipation.

Vik: Not gonna apologize, because I don’t regret it.

I read it once and again, then closed my eyes and groaned quietly, mock crying. With a sigh, I blew out a breath and muttered, “Of course you don’t, you beautiful bastard.”