The Score (The Russian Guns Book 3) Read online

  The Bugatti was a high-performance car and luxury on every level. It didn’t just catch eyes and turn heads, it screamed at passersby. You couldn’t find a car like it, in Viviana’s opinion. She loved her Bentley like nothing else, but this was … whoa.

  She was so stuck staring at the black piece of metal art in front of her that she didn’t even notice the man standing beside the car.

  “Mrs. Avdonin?”

  Viviana seriously needed to get a damned grip. “Huh? Oh, yes, that’s me.”

  The man waved at the passenger side of the car. “After you, Mrs.”

  He didn’t have to tell Viviana a second time.

  ***

  “I’ll take that, now.”

  Viviana passed the velvet box to her husband’s waiting hands, all the while giving him a good one over. He looked fucking gorgeous in his suit that hugged every strong line of his body with a perfect fit. The white tie and handkerchief in his suit pocket had her curious.

  “How’d you know I would wear white?”

  “I didn’t,” Anton admitted with a roguish smirk. “Clarissa let me know when I called her, and I dressed accordingly.”

  “Your ridiculous need to keep a dozen suits at the club, hmm?”

  “You never know.”

  Viviana stared at her favorite restaurant behind them. The little Italian place was cozy and comfortable in a quiet part of the city. The food was great and the atmosphere was always romantic, but never overdone. It certainly wasn’t high society and Viviana suddenly felt overdressed.

  Anton seemed to pick up on her unspoken question. “No other cars but ours, baby. It’s just us here tonight. ”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “There’s only one server, the cook, and the owner inside. He was nice enough to give us the run of the place for a couple of hours. They’ll open for normal business later, and by then, we’ll be long gone.”

  “Huh.” Viviana didn’t know what to say. “Where’s Demyan?”

  “With Clarissa at my mother’s,” Anton answered. “I didn’t want you waking up the house when we got home.”

  Say what?

  “The car, Mr. Avdonin?”

  The driver who had escorted Viviana from their home in Brighton Beach to the restaurant was waiting patiently with the keys to the beautiful machine. “Should I take it back to the storage?”

  Anton chuckled. “No, but thank you, Pav.” A simple toss of his hand and a second set of keys flew through the air. Pav caught them without missing a beat and threw back the set for the Bugatti. “Take my SUV, drop it off tomorrow at the club. Sound good?”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  The driver didn’t wait for anything more to be said before making himself scarce. Viviana eyed Anton suspiciously.

  “That’s a Bugatti,” she said. “Since when do we drive around in a Bugatti?”

  “That it is. Beautiful car, isn’t it? First time I’ve seen it taken out of storage in five years.”

  Viviana was positive her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “What?”

  “I’ve never had the right … night, I guess, to drive it. I love this car.”

  Well, she understood why. “It’s yours.”

  Anton shrugged, his blue eyes raking down Viviana’s body shamelessly to the black stockings. A lift of his dark eyebrow gave her the indication he liked what he saw. “Hmm, yes. Ours, of course, but I bought it. I told you once that I liked fast cars.”

  “It’s certainly fast.”

  “If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll let you drive it home.”

  Viviana’s laughter fell into the cold air like wind chimes. “Hell, I’ve got no chance, do I?”

  “That depends on what you consider to be good, baby. You know how I like you bad.”

  ***

  Anton reveled in the feeling of Viviana’s lips encompassing his fingers. The wet heat of her mouth and tongue as it licked along his skin, taking with it the remaining bits of a sweet pastry he’d been feeding her had all the blood in his body going straight to one place. Her mouth closed tighter to his digits, teeth scraping along his knuckles, and her eyes closed as she moaned.

  “Good?” he asked, willing away the thickness in his throat.

  Viviana released his fingers with a wink. “Very. Thank you.”

  It wasn’t often he got the chance to have his wife like this—relaxed, willing to be adored, pleased, and so unknowing as to his plans. That was the best part for Anton. Everything he planned for the night would be a complete surprise to Viviana.

  “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”

  Viviana smiled, allowing his hand to travel up under the skirt of her dress, resting just above her knee. “Yes, but go on and do it again, or we both know it’ll eat at you.”

  “Damn right.”

  God, she looked amazing. All white, like innocence, but those spiked heels and black stockings gave away just enough taste of sin to get the adrenaline pumping. No, Anton never needed to worry about Viviana’s choice in clothing, or how she prettied herself up for him.

  “Beautiful is a goddamned understatement,” Anton murmured.

  “I try,” Viviana replied coyly.

  “You don’t need to.”

  The server made her way into the private dining area, staying to the darkness of the shadows until Viviana and Anton were finished with dessert. While the server began cleaning off the table one final time, Viviana pulled out her cell phone for the third time.

  Anton’s sigh was loaded. “I swear to God, if you’re calling about Demyan again, Vine.”

  Guiltily, the phone was slid back under the table. “I am not.”

  “He’s fine, baby, I promise. If anything, he’s giving Mom a good reminder of what I was like at that age. Like a blast from the past.”

  “She already dealt with you once. I imagine it was enough.”

  Anton grinned salaciously. “And I’m your problem now, huh?”

  “Sasha knows I manage you just fine, Anton.”

  “Manage me?”

  “Controls. Wears the pants. Rules the roost. What do you want to call it?” she shot back. “Or dare I ask your opinion?”

  Yeah, Anton knew what battles to pick. This wasn’t one of them. “No, I think we both know you’re the only queen ruling me, Vine.”

  Viviana patted his cheek. “Damn right. So, are you going to let me open the mysterious box, or what?”

  Anton chuckled lowly. He knew that was bothering her. “Not yet.”

  “I know you’re only doing this to torture me, Anton.”

  “No, I’m doing it because you don’t need the gift, yet.”

  Viviana’s eyes narrowed in curiosity, but she said nothing. Instead, her hand wandered over to his leg under the table as she plucked up the wine glass from the table with her free hand. While taking a sip of the red liquid, her hand slid higher up the inside of his thigh. Anton responded to the suggestive touch by sliding his hand higher under her dress until the heat between her thighs was dancing along his fingertips. Those stockings she wore had nothing on the lace he could feel covering her sex.

  Viviana squeaked into her glass when he stroked her through her panties. “Anton!”

  “You started it,” he murmured.

  “Well, stop it. I wasn’t doing anything.”

  Sure. That’s why her hand was still attached to his thigh, so close to his groin that Anton’s cock was beginning to twitch to life under his dress pants. If Viviana moved her hand a millimeter, she’d feel exactly what she was doing.

  “Tease,” Anton said under his breath, squeezing her warm thigh again.

  “Remove your hand, Anton.”

  Anton did, but he smirked all the while. “No problem, baby. Besides, it’s too early for you to be screaming my name, and I’d hate to scar the poor staff with the things I’d like to do to you.”

  The red blush that stained Viviana’s cheeks was pretty close in color to the wine in her glass. Her
hand on his thigh jerked away, embarrassment coloring up the noise she made under her breath.

  Battle won, Anton thought smugly.

  It was all about picking the right ones.

  Chapter Three

  “Anton, we can’t possibly—”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Anton interrupted in a teasing manner. “Do I ever uproot us without making sure every little thing is taken care of?”

  Viviana huffed, crossing her arms and staring into the hangar at the private jet. Anton bought the plane a couple of years earlier. On the back wing of the jet, he’d had a similar style tribal design to his own tattoo painted in thick, black strokes.

  The hired pilot and one flight attendant stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the jet. Anton was paying them well for the time they were spending away from their own families during the holiday season, and for keeping quiet about the passengers they were flying out of the country.

  While Viviana continued to stare at the jet inside the private hangar, Anton pulled out a rolling luggage from the trunk. It earned him another pointed look from his wife.

  “Did you pack clothes for me?” she asked.

  Anton was a man, but not a stupid one. “No. Clarissa did yesterday when you were busy. She’s sneaky sometimes.”

  “But you said everyone was out of the house because you asked for them to be.”

  Anton smirked wickedly. “I lied. I couldn’t have you even considering the possibility that we would be flying somewhere. Besides, Demyan is taken care of. We’re not going to be at the house, so Clarissa isn’t needed there, either. She was more than happy to spend some time with Ma. We’re only going to be gone four days. I promise everything is fine here, even the bookstore.”

  Viviana’s bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “Where are we going, then?”

  “You can open your box, now,” Anton said instead.

  She’d been holding onto that black box ever since he handed it back in the Bugatti after dinner. Viviana wasted no time unfastening the silver latch and flipping open the lid. There, resting in black velvet, was a set of house keys. Her genuine surprise was almost cute.

  “Keys, for what?”

  Anton’s chest suddenly felt tight, constricting with the fast pace of his heartbeats. “Where was the first place I fell in love with you, Vine?”

  The sound of her breath catching was audible. “We can’t leave the States.”

  “Yes, we can. The paperwork I have and the passports I paid a pretty dime for say differently. They also have a different last name from ours, but that’s not really important. No one will know. The people hired for this flight were also employed because of their ability to keep quiet.”

  “Barbados, really?” Viviana asked quietly.

  “Not just Barbados. That two storey beach house, the one you snuck through to get to me … yeah, that one.”

  Viviana’s brow furrowed as she stared at the keys. “But you have keys.”

  “No, you do, baby.”

  Finally, she seemed to understand. “You bought me the beach house?”

  “Barely managed to. It’s a hot piece of property over there. Hell, I couldn’t walk away from it when I got word it was going on the market.”

  “Too many memories,” Viviana whispered.

  “Mmhmm. My thoughts exactly. So, you ready?”

  Viviana could only nod.

  ***

  The outside of the beach house in Bridgetown, Barbados was just like Anton remembered it all those years ago. From the gated front entrance with the white stone walkway, to the pale yellow color of the siding. Even the big bay windows on the top and bottom floor, allowing all the beautiful Barbados sunlight in without even needing to turn on a light bulb in the daytime, were still as clear and open as they’d always been.

  Back then, when he was eighteen and stupid, he thought the place looked warm and inviting. Now, it felt the same, but a hell of a lot more sentimental, too.

  They left New York around ten at night, and arrived in Bridgetown just after three in the morning. Viviana refused to sleep on the plane. Anton could see the exhaustion Viviana was feeling, but she was insistent on not finding a bed to sleep in just yet. They certainly had plenty of beds to choose from; the house came fully furnished.

  Viviana wanted to walk through the halls of the home before they did anything else. Using the tips of her fingers, she grazed the walls, staying silent and remembering. So many things were the same in the house, and a dozen more were entirely different. A decade would do that to just about anything.

  But the walls knew. They heard things others hadn’t. The window in the far bedroom on the bottom floor had reflected the innocent beauty of a sixteen-year-old girl Anton fell in love with and the strange courage she’d found in an eighteen-year-old him. Maybe if the sun was out, and he looked out the back where the beach led to the ocean, he’d get that feeling all over again. That first one when he saw who Viviana was, not who he thought she would be.

  Anton followed behind silently, too, watching his wife pull the pins from her hair, letting it fall out of the chignon into waves down her back. Then, she was reaching back to tug at the zipper of her white dress. The thick fabric that was surely too warm for Barbados weather slipped off her shoulders like water, falling around her waist before dropping to pool at her heels. Viviana stepped out and over the forgotten dress without even looking back at it.

  Anton wasn’t looking at the dress anymore, either.

  “Vine …” he started to say, his voice husky and throat thick.

  Viviana didn’t pay him any mind.

  “What are you doing, baby?”

  Still, nothing.

  Fuck, she looked good. The olive tone of her skin melted in with those black stockings she wore, right up to the garter belt and clasps keeping the lace trim snug around her thighs. The black lace covering all the curves and edges of her sweetest spots hinted at sex and sin. Viviana’s hips swayed when she walked. A natural back and forth motion that always fucking mesmerized Anton like nothing else.

  She was sexy as hell.

  Anton yanked at the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the offending clothing off and leaving it wherever in the heck it fell. The same thing happened to his socks, shoes, and belt. It didn’t matter that he was tired, too, and that they’d probably sleep their first day of vacation away. No, it didn’t matter a bit what with the way Viviana walked, and those stockings he wanted to pull down her mile-long legs with his teeth.

  “I want you,” Viviana said demurely.

  Something wicked twisted in Anton’s stomach, shooting straight down to his cock.

  “Here,” she added, her hand grazing the wall again. As Viviana passed a bathroom in the bottom floor hallway, she said, “There …”

  Jesus.

  “Vine, then you need to stop walking away from me.”

  She didn’t.

  Now, Anton just wanted to get a reaction out of his wife. If she could tease him, it was only fair. “I should have fucked you on the jet, Viviana. Join the club, and all that jazz.” There was no hiding the shiver crawling up Viviana’s spine. The little minx didn’t say a word, though. Still, he got a reaction. “Would you have liked that?”

  Viviana turned to glance over her shoulder, her heated brown eyes boring into Anton’s with a fire. Then, her thumbs hooked into the lace garter and the hem of her panties. Anton’s throaty growl stopped her from pulling the fabric down. She had also come to the end of the hallway.

  “Don’t,” Anton ordered. “I want to take those off myself.”

  The sexiest smile curved her sweet mouth. “With what?”

  “My teeth while I bury my fingers into that tight pussy of yours.”

  Viviana moaned low. The sound reverberated straight to Anton’s aching dick.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Oh, I’ll have you crying that out a dozen times over,” Anton murmured as he came to stand behind his wife.

  Skimming one hand over Vivi
ana’s shoulder, he pulled the straps of her bra down at the same time his mouth landed at the junction of her shoulder. The heat of his breath washed over her skin as he kissed a path along the side of her neck, to the back, where he began ghosting down the middle of her spine.

  With every kiss, Anton could taste the sex already on her body. With every taste, Viviana’s skin bloomed with goosebumps. There was something he loved about the way she reacted to anything and everything he did. From her shivers to the way her breath picked up at the graze of his thumb along her hip.

  “Let’s start with here, baby.” Anton was down to his knees, kissing the dimples at her lower back. The faint smell of her sex was just a hint in the air. He planned on getting her smelling so damned good by the time he was done. “Right here in this hallway, against this wall.”

  “Fuck.”

  “That’s the plan, Vine.”

  Viviana sighed when Anton’s teeth caught the hem of her garter. He took his time dragging the flimsy fabric down before snapping the plastic clips attached to the stockings. Anton let the garter fall to her feet, enjoying the view of his wife’s perfect ass covered in black lace.

  “It’s not the same, you know,” Viviana said quietly.

  Anton hummed a sound as he tugged down her panties. Viviana stepped out of the panties at his urging. “The house, or us?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “It’s still the same in a lot of ways, too.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “I was so terrified coming down here that night. Roman never laid a hand on me or my brother, but I think he would have for that.”

  “No way, crazy girl. Me, likely. Never you.”

  “I was way too young to be doing the things I did. Stupid, though I wanted you.”

  Anton stood, peppering his kisses back up her spine, stopping at her shoulder again. He made quick work of unclasping the bra at her back, leaving her in nothing but her heels and stockings. Just like he wanted her.

  “Maybe you were too young back then,” Anton finally replied, splaying both hands out to her back.

  He slipped one hand further down to skim over her ass and in between her thighs. Already, Viviana was wet, throbbing and almost swollen in her need. As his fingers spread her fleshy folds, he reveled in the slick heat coating his hand. Fuck, her juices were like honey to him.