Ruthless Saints

“Are you sure about starting a relationship while you’re traveling? I don’t want you changing your plans because of a guy,” Mom says exactly what I expected to hear.

“I’m not going to change my plans. He’s showing me all the villages I want to see in Switzerland. I’m sure when I go to Croatia, he’ll come to visit me, and I can come back for a weekend here and there.”

It will suck not being close to Carson every day, though.

“I just worry about you, sweetheart. People do stupid things for love, and I don’t want you giving up your dream for a man.”

“I won’t, Mom. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Mom sounds relieved when she says, “Tell me more about him.”

“He’s Russian. He moved to Switzerland when he was sixteen to be closer to his older brother, whom I’ve met. Their parents passed away, so it’s just the two of them. They’re very close.” I glance around the kitchen and living room. “He has a beautiful house he had built, so I guess he’s doing pretty well financially.”

“That’s good to hear. You need someone with ambition.” Mom voices her opinion.

“He looks at me like I’m the only woman on the planet,” I blurt out. “I’ve never experienced anything like this, Mom. It feels like I’ve found my soul mate.”

“Oh, honey, just don’t end up being the one who loves the most.”

“What do you mean?” I ask while spearing a piece of egg. I pop it into my mouth, and scrunching my nose, I spit it out and empty the pan in the trash.

Yuck, I can’t cook to save my life.

“In any relationship, there’s always the one who loves more, who gives in first, who sacrifices a little more so the other person can be happy.”

“Not with you and Dad,” I argue.

“Even with your father and me. Have you ever seen him angry with me?”

Come to think of it, no. “Mom, I can’t just hit the brakes on loving Carson.”

“Just don’t lose your individuality, okay?”

“Okay.”

Suddenly Carson’s hands settle on my hips, and he presses a kiss to my shoulder. He glances at the pan, and I point at the trash, giving him an apologetic look.

Carson chuckles, and pulling a clean pan from the drawer, he sets it down on the stove before walking to the fridge to get eggs.

“Oh, he’s also an excellent cook, so I won’t starve,” I tell my mother.

“You were never one for the kitchen,” Mom teases me. “It’s time for bed. Take care, sweetheart. We love you.”

“Love you too, Mom. Sweet dreams.”

We end the call, and then I grin at Carson. “I need to send my parents a photo of your ID. You know, for incase you kidnap me and make me your sex slave.”

Carson lets out a burst of laughter as he cracks the eggs into a bowl. “Would you have a problem with it if I kidnapped you and fucked you until you couldn’t walk?”

My abdomen clenches. “Definitely not. Just throw food into the deal.”

He turns his face to me and leans a little closer. “Kiss me.”

I place my hands on his jaw, and lifting onto my toes, I press a soft kiss to his lips.

“More,” he murmurs.

I smile against his mouth, and then I give him what he wants until we’re both breathless.

“Breakfast can wait until much later,” I say as I take hold of his hand and pull him out of the kitchen. “I want to do dirty things to you.”

Reaching the living room, I push him down on the couch. I drag my shorts and panties down my legs and climb onto his lap. Our mouths latch onto each other as I pull down his zipper, and freeing his cock, I position him at my entrance. Lowering myself onto him, shudders spread through my body from how good he feels.

Carson grips hold of my hips, moving my body at the pace he wants, fast and hard. My fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck as I get lost in everything he makes me feel.

The way he looks at me as if I’m the only person he loves, the only one he’ll ever love.

It makes me feel treasured.

Chapter 15

CARSON

Last I spoke with Alexei, he was about to zero in on Viggo.

But Admir is the one I’m worried about. He’ll come prepared. Christ, I can feel time’s running out. Gut instinct tells me they're close.

I’m on high alert, my eyes keep darting around, waiting for them to attack.

We stop outside the bar, and absentmindedly, I give Hailey a kiss.

My muscles tense, and I glance around us again. Reaching for the chain around my neck, I take it off and place it around Hailey’s neck. I tuck the tag under her shirt.

“You love this chain,” she says, a happy smile on her face.