He was tempted. How could he not be? She sounded shy and yet fearless at the same time. The combination of sultry temptress and sweet innocent was almost too alluring to pass up. The event had another hour and a half to go. Celine James had more to give to those who had paid to hear her advice. She planned on critiquing three pages of each of their works. Maestro wanted that for his woman.
He had the feeling Celine would be extremely impressed with Azelie’s talent. He felt Zelie needed to hear others she respected praise her work. Azelie had grown up without compliments. No one told her she was doing a good job. No one gave her gifts or experiences. She fought hard for everything she had. She needed to know how others saw her. He wanted that for her. He loved her shyness, but he wanted her to have self-esteem, to see herself the way others around her saw her.
“You have another session with this author, and I think it’s important. I have every intention of spending the night with you, Zelie. We’ll have plenty of time for you to show your appreciation.” He kissed the tip of her nose, giving her a reassuring grin when her expression told him part of her felt rejected. He had to remind himself she was as new to a relationship as he was, and she expected rejection just as he always expected betrayal. “I’m looking forward to it, Solnyshkuh. I want you to have every moment possible with Celine and get whatever it is you think is pertinent for your work.”
Azelie nodded and reluctantly unwrapped herself from him. He was just as reluctant to let her go, his hands sliding over her as she stepped back. He held out his hand, and when she took it, he led her back to their table, where her pack and tablet were. Others were already moving to their places and pulling out their work in anticipation of the next hour and a half with the legendary author.
When they’d first arrived, Azelie was required to choose three pages of her work to send to Celine James to read. The other aspiring writers had already done so, and Celine had read their work and come prepared with her critiques.
The master class had been closed until Maestro offered enough money and used his voice shamelessly when pleading his case. Fortunately, the woman in charge was a romantic. She was also very susceptible to his voice. The money helped as well. When Celine was contacted, she agreed to allow one more writer into the class and said she could read Azelie’s three pages on her break.
Each person received feedback on their story. Maestro found the entire process interesting. The various writers worked in different genres, and yet the feedback Celine gave each was encouraging and seemed to him to be spot-on. She took her time going over each writer’s entry, talking to them, appearing to be interested and focused and genuinely giving them tips and helpful guidance.
Maestro found himself respecting the woman. She had knowledge of her craft and shared it willingly. She was careful to be encouraging. He was good at body language and the least nuance of a voice. He could tell when Celine didn’t feel a particular writer was very good. She gave them the same attention as the ones she was excited about. He admired her for her ability to find positive things to say while giving them helpful tips to improve their skills.
He was holding his breath when Celine focused her attention on Azelie. After each writer had been critiqued, they gathered their belongings and exited the building so the event planners could begin to break everything down to prepare for the following day’s business. That meant that since Azelie was the last to be critiqued, she had the author to herself.
Azelie admitted to Celine she had previously had three books published and a contract for a fourth. The books were still selling well, and her sales had increased, but not significantly. She hadn’t really done much social media or marketing on her own. The publishing house hadn’t done much marketing on her behalf either.
Maestro found it interesting that most of Celine James’ conversation with Azelie centered around marketing and the publishing business rather than writing technique. She praised Azelie’s work and seemed quite taken with her. Azelie was animated, laughing and at times very engrossed in the things Celine told her.
It was clear to Maestro that her writing was extremely important to her. She might be getting a degree in accounting, but the creative writing classes she was taking were where her passion truly lay.
She was excited and happy, but the moment they got in the car and were headed back to her apartment, she went quiet on him.
“Babe, tell me what’s going on in your head.”
Her gaze touched his and slid away. “It’s just that you’re so amazing, Andrii. I don’t know what I have to give you in return for everything you always seem to be doing for me. I don’t want a one-sided relationship. I’m bringing a man like my boss into your life. You need to worry about him finding out about us before I can safely get away from him. That puts your life in danger.”
“Zelie.” He said her name quietly. They’d talked about Billows already. He was willing to share more about his life, but not in the car.
“It’s more than that. I’m not experienced when it comes to sex.” She turned her head to look directly at him. When his eyes met hers, he read her fears. “I don’t know how to please you, and clearly, you’re very experienced. I don’t want to be a letdown for you.”
He could see the disparity between their experiences was a major stumbling block for her, and he wasn’t going to simply dismiss her concerns. The fact that his enjoyment mattered to her made him happy.
“We’ll take care of your worry when we’re home, and I can hold you while we talk. Is that acceptable for you?”
She nodded, but she did so with a little frown. Just that look made him want to smile.
ELEVEN
“All right, Solnyshkuh. We’re home and you should feel safe.” He used his gentlest tone but saw Azelie wince and realized his mistake instantly. She hadn’t been safe in her home. She hadn’t been safe with her relatives. None of them, not even the children, had been safe.
She paced across the room. It wasn’t a large area, so there wasn’t much space for her to get away from him. Maestro read her uneasiness without difficulty. He noted that she placed her backpack on a hook just inside the tiny utility closet. He would have to go through that backpack in an effort to find the key to Billows’ underground rooms.
“Take your shoes and jacket off and get comfortable. If you want to change your clothes, I have no problem waiting.” Deliberately, he bent to remove his motorcycle boots. He nearly always wore them, unless he dressed up to play the part of an affluent Russian. He had played many roles to get the job done. Usually, the job was assassination. He was extremely good at his work.
He didn’t look at her, but kept his gaze on his boots, as if his feet hurt and he couldn’t wait to get them off. His boots were very comfortable, but she needed to feel as if she were in control. When he had the boots sitting beside the chair, he stretched out his long legs with a sigh of relief.
She was instantly alert. “We shouldn’t have stayed so long, Andrii. I stayed late because I was talking so much with Celine, but I should have been paying better attention to you.” She hung her jacket in the closet and removed her shoes and socks, taking them to the bedroom and placing them inside another closet.
When she returned, she sent him a small smile. “This apartment is so tiny I’ve learned to utilize all available space. Everything I own has its place. If I leave my shoes or anything else out, I would eventually stumble over them in the middle of the night.”
“You’re wandering. Come over here.”
She sent him a leery look from under her lashes, but she crossed the room to stand in front of his chair.
“I asked you to come to me, Zelie,” he reminded her in his softest, most compelling tone.
She swallowed her nervousness and indicated with her hand she was close. “I’m right here.”
“I see that, but when I tell you I want you to come to me, that means I want you sitting in my lap.” This time he held her gaze captive. He refused to allow her to look away from him.
She pressed her lips together as if to keep from blurting something out, but she obediently stepped close to him. His long, outstretched legs forced her to straddle him. She felt small and curvy in his arms. The heat at the junction of her legs seared right through his jeans. He wrapped one arm around her back to support her, but mostly to keep her anchored to him.
“I believe you owe me something.” He dipped his head to nuzzle her ear and then tug at her earlobe with his teeth. A small bite but it accomplished so much. Goose bumps rose on her skin, and she shivered. Her blue eyes darkened with desire.
“Owe you?” she echoed, sounding confused.
“Kisses, baby. You were going to kiss me to thank me for your surprise, and I had to shut it down to keep you safe. As it was, I had a hell of a hard-on with you winding yourself around me.” He smiled at her and nipped her neck this time. “Seems my control goes right out the window when I’m with you.”
Another shiver went through her body. She squirmed on his lap, right over his cock. He’d flared to life the moment his body felt the heat of hers. He lay beneath her, thick and long and demanding. Andrii made no move to hide his reaction to her.
“Kiss me, baby,” he whispered—an enticement. Meant to be temptation. Was temptation.
Her hands slid up his chest and then she circled his neck with her arms, turning her face up to his. “I’m not sure I know how.”
His heart melted at the whispered admission. Still, she tilted her face and brushed his lips with hers. Light. Barely there. The shock was electric. His pulse jumped. His heart slammed up against his chest. Flames raced through his bloodstream straight to his cock.
Her breath was honey and strawberries. Impossible. When she pressed her lips to his again, the tip of her tongue slid along the seam of his mouth. It felt like a living, burning flame. He gripped her hair, angled her head perfectly and took control. Honey and strawberries gave way to fiery whiskey. The flames rolled down his throat.
Azelie ignited. Detonated. Set him off. The explosion between the two of them was a fiery volcanic storm that built in intensity. The earth rocked beneath them. No joke. It happened. He hadn’t known it could happen, that the world could spin and drop away when the one woman who was your other half kissed you.
She wasn’t experienced in the least, but she followed his lead and surrendered herself to him completely. There was no holding back; she gave him everything. He took it without hesitation, although he hadn’t planned to follow through, not until they had talked. He wanted her to know exactly what she was getting into with him before she surrendered her body to his keeping.
Maestro wasn’t a man to share intimacy with anyone. Kissing was as intimate as it got, and yet once he had her mouth, the dance of their tongues, the heat poured down his throat, racing like a wildfire out of control straight to his cock. Every nerve ending was awake. He felt alive for the first time. Completely and utterly alive. This woman owned his heart.
He had to feel her skin. There was no going back from this moment. No stopping and slowing down. He was on a runaway freight train rushing down the tracks, and there was no way to put the brakes on. Thunder roared in his ears. Flames ignited in his belly and settled lower. A sinful dark craving rolled through him. Took hold. Those flames branded that addiction deep into his bones. Wrote her name on his heart.
He made short work of the off-the-shoulder top. Azelie didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy trying to pull his shirt off, evidently needing the same thing he did—bare skin. Her lips feathered over his throat, leaving tiny flames behind.
“We’re taking this into the other room.” His voice sounded like a growl, but she didn’t seem to notice as he stood in one smooth motion, holding her to him. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he made his way to the bed, grateful the room was so small, with his aching erection making it difficult to walk.
One knee on the bed, he lowered her bottom to the edge and quickly dispensed with her bra. She was wearing one he’d purchased for her, a sexy demi-cup that held her breasts lovingly. Any other time he would have focused on the sight, savoring the luxury. She had gorgeous breasts. Full and round, with nipples begging for attention.
He pushed her back until she sprawled out in front of him, her silky breasts jutting up at him as he grasped her jeans and panties to draw them down her legs.
