Made Men 5: Dmitri's Denial (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Read online

  A warm palm against her cheek and one on her hip. She tightened up, waiting for the groping and the hits.

  “I found you, Rayanna. I’m going to take care of you and protect you. No one will ever touch you and hurt you again.”

  “Puento?” she cried out, shaking. She didn’t pull away or try to run. Instead, she needed the familiarity of someone she knew, even if it were him. The things she’d gone through, the abuse she’d sustained, had her sobbing and falling to her knees. She hugged his legs.

  “I know, Rayanna. I know. It’s over now. Come. Let them help clean you up and shower. A new life begins tomorrow,” he said to her.

  * * * *

  “She is gone. We missed her by hours,” Star said to Dmitri as they stood by the road in the darkness.

  “Any idea where they took her?” Grisha asked Star Mulicheck. He looked at Border as he approached with Lucca and Crane.

  “Anything out of that asshole?” Border asked Lucca, who wiped the blood off the blade of his knife onto his camo pants.

  “Romania. She was transported to Romania by truck and then by boat,” Lucca said to them.

  “We can get there faster than that. Do we have an exact location?” Star asked him.

  “Yes, we do,” Lucca said as he used the satellite phone.

  “Are you up for this, Dmitri? You look exhausted. Grisha said you haven’t slept or eaten. You need strength to fight,” Star said to him.

  “I will be fine. I’ll eat on the way and be ready,” Dmitri said to them, standing there in black military gear, carrying guns, ammo, and everything he needed to help kill his way to Puento.

  “We better move. They’re hours ahead, and once Puento has her in his possession, there’s no telling what he might do,” Grisha said. They all agreed and headed for the vehicles.

  * * * *

  Even after showering and eating, Rayanna was shaking and feeling delirious. Her head was aching, her throat hurt, her body ached, and she couldn’t stop the shaking no matter how many blankets were on her. Puento lay with her on the bed, holding her, rocking her.

  “I’ve got you now. Maybe now you realize that you’re safest with me, baby, not with anyone else but me.” He kissed her head.

  She nodded, cuddled closer, and begged for the chills to stop. She fought between what was happening and what she wished for. Closing her eyes, she saw Dmitri. She remembered their lovemaking, their connection, and how much she loved him. Then she had flashbacks of the men touching her and doing things to her, the prison, and she got angry, but her body was so weak. She was sick with fever. She just knew it.

  When Puento leaned down and rolled her onto her back, covering her body, she felt the gun in the holster on his hip despite all the covers. He went to kiss her, and she couldn’t stop him until she started to cough. It sounded terrible and hurt badly in her chest.

  “Those assholes got you so sick, baby. I know they scared you, but you’re safe now.”

  “Dmitri?” She said his name, and he lifted up.

  “He’s dead.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. He pissed off someone, a boss or something, and they shot and killed him.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “Your fault for making him weak instead of letting him focus on his profession and his enemies. His men seek revenge upon you. It’s why I took you away. They want you dead.”

  She didn’t want to believe it, but her head wasn’t able to focus. She thought about what she could remember. The flashbacks of her time in prison, and then the trip with the men touching her, forcing their hands on her and scaring her filled her mind, stopping her from remembering what had happened.

  He lifted and pulled the sheets and covers from her, and she gasped. He pressed between her legs and gripped her hips. “You need to learn who you belong to now. Never speak of Dmitri again. Never. You’re mine.”

  He lowered himself to her neck and sucked her skin, then pulled the long blouse away from her skin, broke the buttons, and exposed her breasts. He leaned down and licked along her skin, and she grabbed onto him with just enough strength to stop him.

  “No. Don’t touch me, please. I hurt. I’m sick.”

  “You need me inside of you. You need to learn who you belong to.”

  He pressed closer and ran his palm up her thigh. She held onto his shoulders, her mind fuzzy, her memories all mixed up. The fever was making her feel as if none of this were real. She ran her hands along his shoulders and to his arms. She fought needing him closer to protect her from the flashbacks of the men who might come back for more. Then she felt the gun. At that moment the lights flickered in the room, and he reached between them to undo his pants. He lifted himself, pulled off his shirt, and lowered to kiss her mouth and suck her neck.

  She felt her body tense and realized that she wasn’t dreaming, that this was real. Puento had put her in that cell. Puento had sent those men to hurt her and scare her and then had brought her here, wherever here was. He killed Dmitri or got him killed. He was a monster.

  With shaking hands and blurred vision, she gripped the gun. He lifted, and she shot him just as the lights went out. He struck her across the mouth, and she cried out. She pulled the trigger again, and he yelled and roared, knocked the gun from her hands, and grabbed for her throat.

  A moment later she heard the roar and gunfire, and then a body slammed into Puento’s and knocked him from her. She rolled to the right and landed on the floor. More gunfire erupted outside the room, and then she heard gurgling. She could see Dmitri and then sensed the large figure next to her.

  “No. Get away, no. No!” she screamed.

  “It’s Grisha, Rayanna.”

  “Yanna! Yanna.”

  Dmitri said her name, and she saw men in black. Then Dmitri lifted her up into his arms.

  “Blankets, Grisha.”

  She felt them go around her and heard men saying they needed to head out now.

  She held onto Dmitri tight as she shook and went in and out of consciousness. She awoke here and there as they checked her over and transported her somewhere. Something stuck into her arm—a needle, something—and then darkness overtook her.

  Chapter 12

  Dmitri sat in the chair by the bed as Victor, a special private doctor who cared for Yanna, rechecked her injuries and the fever. She suffered from double pneumonia, bruised ribs, bruising, and lots of finger marks all over her body, leaving Dmitri wondering if she was raped. Visitors came and went. And she barely registered them, the fever still around and her fears and panicked state constant.

  Star called it posttraumatic stress. Victor, too. He said with time and therapy it would pass. That the best thing to do for her was make her feel safe and protected. Grisha, Bodashka, Olek, Hadeon, Paulo, and Andriy took turns sitting by the bed and watching over her. She seemed to feel comfortable and safe with them around, so it gave Dmitri time to handle business deals and make arrangements. It was going to take time, lots of time.

  * * * *

  Rayanna jerked and screamed out in terror, gasping for breath as the nightmares rocked her. Then she felt the strong embrace, smelled the familiar cologne, and took in her surroundings.

  “Easy breaths. Nice and easy. You’re safe, vozlyublennay. You’re safe,” Dmitri whispered against her head and kissed her.

  She looked around the room, morning here already, and knew she’d woken several times like this. She was embarrassed, especially when she saw the scowls on the men’s faces and knew they’d heard her.

  Rayanna eased back against Dmitri as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Sorry, Dmitri.”

  “Shhh. Don’t. It is I who am sorry.”

  She turned to look at him. She saw the scruff along his cheeks, the deep circles under his eyes, and the way he looked down at her body before closing his eyes. She was battered and bruised. Finger marks from other men touching her, hurting her, were what he saw every day. She was thin, still unable to eat too much. Victor said her sto
mach had shrunk, and with the sickness still in her system, she needed time to heal.

  She hated feeling weak. She couldn’t stand seeing Dmitri like this. She needed to force herself to get better, to be stronger, to find ways of strengthening her body, her mind, and her soul. She reached up and cupped his cheek.

  “I love you, Dmitri. I hope that doesn’t scare you.”

  He took her hand and kissed it, closing his eyes but not reciprocating the words. She didn’t really expect him to because she knew the man he was. She had learned that the things that happened to her, that she had seen in that prison in Russia were things this man became desensitized to.

  “I want to shower and get up today,” she said to him.

  His eyes popped open, and despite her body telling her she was out of her mind and didn’t want to move, she would force herself, for Dmitri, for herself.

  “You need rest, Yanna. The doctor said lots of rest.”

  “Food, too, but I think if I can move around more and get the muscles going, then the pain might decrease. I want to, Dmitri. I know you have a lot of work to do today, every day, and I won’t be a burden anymore on you. Please help me to shower.”

  He stared at her, stroked her jaw, and nodded. When he eased from her and got up from the bed, the sight of him aroused her. She was definitely feeling better than three weeks ago. She scooted to the edge of the bed, and the motion winded her. She wouldn’t show him that. Instead, she eased her legs over the side of the bed, and then he lifted her. When she went to walk, her body ached, protested against the moves, and she fought it, breathed through it with Dmitri at her side.

  With his large, warm hand against her hip, she felt her bones sticking out, and as they got into the very large master bathroom with all the marble, the intricate designs made for a king, she saw herself and stopped. Dmitri looked at her through the reflection in the mirror. Tears stung her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She looked emaciated, sickly, and her heart ached.

  “No wonder you can’t even look at me.”

  “Don’t, Yanna. You will get better. You’ll heal, you’ll gain weight and strength, and you will get through this.”

  She looked at him, knowing why he didn’t reciprocate the words. She looked ugly, sick, weak. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Determination to get through this faster and not fall under the power of the evils that put her here consumed her mind.

  “It’s a new day, Dmitri. Things are going to change,” she told him, and indeed they did.

  Epilogue

  Dmitri wondered where the hell Yanna was. She’d disappeared with Olek, Hadeon, and Andriy for hours and worked out, cooked with Bodashka, and talked on the phone with her friends and business associates. By the time he got to bed at night, she was exhausted and sleeping. Her color had improved, and she was gaining weight and almost back to smiling. Her nightmares continued, but when she held onto him, he felt the difference in her body. She was no longer frail, still thin, but gaining weight and feeling stronger.

  When he walked into the kitchen, Bodashka was cooking breakfast, Grisha was going over security details for the crew, and Paulo was organizing the drivers for the trips into the city for business for Dmitri.

  “Anyone see Yanna?” he asked.

  “She’s with Olek, Hadeon, and Andriy. She said to tell you she will see you tonight. Something about date night, a candlelight dinner, and talking,” Bodashka said.

  “Crostanya is preparing something good.”

  Dmitri narrowed his eyes at him and wondered what the chef was making and what exactly Yanna was up to. He felt uneasy and was a bit jealous of her spending so much time with his men and not with him. Because of his recent schedule, the only time they got to be with one another was in bed, and by then she was out cold and he couldn’t find out what she was up to. She was bundled up in a hoodie sweatshirt and baggy sweats. He was frustrated.

  “Well, I’ll be in by six. Tell her I will call later on today in between meetings.”

  “Will do, boss,” Bodashka said to him.

  * * * *

  “So remember, no one is to be anywhere near this room, the stairs to the bedroom, or our bedroom, okay?” she asked the men for the tenth time.

  “Someone is going to be prancing around naked, showing off that body, huh?” Hadeon said to her in front of Bodashka, Andriy, and Olek.

  She put her hands on her hips.

  “You won’t know because none of you will be in sight.” She fixed the table again, arranged the candlelight, and then turned to see the three men watching her.

  “You look beautiful, Yanna. You’ve worked very hard, so determined to heal and be a strong woman for Dmitri and for yourself,” Olek said to her.

  “With your help. All of you, and I know there’s more to do and time will heal the scars I can’t heal in the gym, in the kitchen, or when the time comes to leave the house, but I know you all are here for me and it helps so much. Thank you. Each of you.”

  She hugged Olek, shocking him, and then Hadeon, who was so stiff until right before she pulled back, when he pulled her close and hugged her tight, making her laugh. Then she hugged Andriy.

  “You can give Bodashka, Paulo, and Grisha hugs for me later. Now get,” she said, glancing at Andriy’s watch as she grabbed his arm.

  “Oh God, he’ll be here soon.” She ushered them out of the room and then looked around one more time. Everything was perfect.

  * * * *

  Dmitri entered the house feeling tired, his head hurting from the constant business deals and chaos of today, and he was thirty minutes late because Grisha suggested flowers for Yanna since she planned some sort of romantic dinner tonight. That led to Dmitri calling the jeweler and picking up something special for her besides flowers. He washed up in the kitchen and then made his way upstairs to the private den down the hall from the bedrooms. Why she wanted dinner served up here, he didn’t know. She seemed to like the room a lot.

  As he entered, he caught sight of her standing by the window that overlooked the gardens. She wore a stunning purple silk dress that looked more like lingerie than attire one wore to dinner. As she turned toward him, he saw her abundant breasts pouring from the top, the toned muscles in her arms, almost like she had months ago, before her abduction. She was getting better, healing, getting stronger, and a tense feeling he had since that day she was taken eased down a notch. She smiled at him.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to stop on the way for these.”

  He brought the bouquet of red roses toward her. She smiled brightly, and his heart pounded inside of his chest.

  “I love them, Dmitri. Thank you so much. It’s been forever since someone gave me flowers, and roses no less.”

  She took them, brought the vase over toward the table, and set them down. She ran her hand under the buds, and his cock hardened. He wanted to feel her hands on him, touching him, stroking him. He cleared his throat. He didn’t want to face the weakness this woman brought on in him. He struggled with telling her how much he cared. He was worried about the dangers, his enemies that were now hers whether he was with her or not, whether this relationship continued or not.

  The thought of losing her, of not having her in his life, made him grab her hand and pull her close. She gasped, and he cupped her cheek, wrapped an arm around her waist, and stared at her lips.

  “I adore you, Yanna. This is special,” he said to her, then kissed the corner of her lips, and trailed his mouth toward the center, taking his time to relish the feel of her much fitter body in his arms and knowing she was no longer so frail. He had feared touching her, making love to her, these last long, hard weeks. But then he slid a hand along her ass and felt the tight, hard muscles. He squeezed as he pulled from her lips. Her eyelids looked heavy, her lips parted and wet.

  “Someone has been working out,” he said and squeezed her ass again.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He was sure his eyes darkened as he swept his gaze over the deep cleavage of he
r dress.

  “For food, Dmitri. Crostanya prepared your favorite. He said it’s a Russian dish of meat potatoes and other things.”

  His eyes widened. “He didn’t,” he said, feeling a bit excited. He loved Crostanya’s authentic cooking.

  “He did. Should we call him to serve the food?”

  “Yes, and I’ll pour the wine,” he said to her, but he didn’t release her immediately. Instead, he stared at her, wanting to memorize her face, this evening, and how things were changing.

  * * * *

  Dinner was amazing, and the conversation about business and about her friends visiting soon led them to the end of the evening. All the dishes were cleared, and she knew her orders would be respected as Bodashka gave her a wink and wished them good night, telling Dmitri that they would secure the house and the perimeter and for them to enjoy the evening.

  Dmitri stared at her as she sat across from him in the sitting area.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached over to his dress jacket, having removed it and the tie earlier when she told him to relax and enjoy the evening.

  When he pulled out a long black velvet box, she smiled. “Dmitri,” she whispered.

  “Just a little something.”

  He passed it to her to open, and when she did, she saw a gorgeous, very feminine gold chain with scattered diamonds placed along the chain and a diamond in the shape of a heart at the center. It sparkled and looked gorgeous.

  “I love it, Dmitri.” She stood. He stood, too, and she turned for him to put it on her. As he did, his knuckles and fingers brushed against her skin, and she slid her hand under her arm and unzipped her dress. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, and she let the dress fall.

  She turned around to face him, completely naked, with only the new piece of jewelry he gave her. “What do you think?” she asked, staring at his stunned expression, the dark, hungry look in his eyes, and knew she got him good. He was ready, no longer afraid to touch her, make love to her, and boy was she more than ready, too.