Lie to Me (33 page)

She cried out, orgasm crashing into her at the same time Alexei let out a hoarse shout. Within her womb, she felt the hot splash of semen. In the depths of her rear, Misha’s cock spasmed. His groan vibrated through her body.

Alexei bowed his head, and his teeth scored into her shoulder. Then he was kissing her cheeks, brushing the hair away from her face, whispering words she couldn’t make out through the sobs that tumbled from her throat.

She was crying, and she couldn’t stop the unrelenting tears.

V
aguely, Sasha recognized the soft press of Misha’s lips against the crown of her head, the comforting slide of his hand down her back before he left the bed. She wanted to thank him. Wanted to tell him he didn’t need to leave. But she couldn’t work a word past the tightness in her throat.

Nor could she focus on anything but the whispered oaths that hissed through Alexei’s tight lips and connected with her oversensitized brain.

“Fuck. Sasha. I’m so sorry, princess.
Fuck.
”

She blinked back the tears, swallowed hard, and shook her head. Pushing his weight off her body, she edged into a sitting position. One word worked free. “No.” With a furious swipe of her wrist, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and reached for his hand. Out of the corner of her vision, she caught Misha’s bare feet ascending the stairs.

Alexei pulled away before her fingers could graze his skin. Swinging his legs off the edge of the mattress, he braced his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “I should have stopped this. I knew it was too much for you.”

“Stop.” Sasha scrambled after him. Her words were thick, her throat still tight. Salty drops still trickled, unchecked, down her cheeks. “Stop, please.”

Alexei shrugged her off, but didn’t lift his head. “It was wrong. And I
fucking
knew it would hurt you.”

So why had he? She paused, uncertain whether to reach out to him again, or to let him continue.

“Goddamn it!” Bending farther, he swiped his shirt off the floor, balled it up, and launched it across the room.

He was hurting. Blaming himself for something that had nothing to do with the assumptions in his head. Sasha crawled closer and draped herself around his back. She set her chin on his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed the side of his neck. “Alexei, stop,” she whispered. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I feel amazing. And I’m happy.”

“Let go.” He twisted his shoulders, trying to free himself from her tight hold. “If you were fine you wouldn’t be crying. You did this for me, and I should have never let you go through with it.”

“Alexei, look at me.”

He remained still, staring fixedly at the stairs.

“Alexei.” She pulled on his shoulder.

Reluctantly, he turned to face her. The turmoil in his light green gaze made Sasha’s eyes water all over again. She struggled to choke down the tears. Self-loathing, anger, and sorrow reflected back at her, clouding those beautiful eyes with dark shadows. His pain knifed through her. Drawn by the soul-deep need to take away that anguish, she cupped the side of his face in her palm. “Don’t you understand?”

He gave her a sharp, perturbed frown, as if to say,
Of course not.

With a tender smile, she brushed the pad of her thumb across his whiskered cheek. “Yes, I did it for you. But that’s not why I’m crying. I don’t regret a thing.”

“You don’t have to tell me what I want to hear.” Twisting, he pulled free, and with less aggression, bent to pick up his pants.

Before he could rise from the bed and pull them on, Sasha wedged beneath his arm and positioned herself in his lap. He refused to look at her, but she refused to be daunted by his resistance.

“I’m telling you the truth. You exposed me to things I’ve never
felt before tonight. Misha was right—the pleasure was incredible. Alexei,” she flattened her palm over the hard beat of his heart, “I’m crying because I’m in love with you.”

A
s Alexei stared into Sasha’s soulful blue eyes, a sense of profound peace settled over him. His heart lurched hard, then swelled. His lungs ceased to function for a split-second.

She loved him.

She didn’t have any idea who he was.

Alexei’s lungs let go with a painful catch. She was only in love with what she perceived, and while that alone befuddled him, the rest was impossible to believe. When Sasha learned the man she thought she cared for had been a whore, she’d change her tune.

Quick.

His mouth formed a grim, hard line. He scooped Sasha out of his lap, gently deposited her on the bed, then yanked on his jeans. “You can’t love me.”

Denying her the ability to protest, Alexei stalked to the bathroom and firmly shut the door. Flattening his back against the dark wood, he reached behind him and pushed the lock. Then he closed his eyes, fighting emotion.

He had come so close. Sharing Sasha with Misha pushed him to a dangerous ledge.

His head dropped back against the door, and he let out a sigh. Who the hell was he trying to fool? He’d vaulted right off that ledge into an abysmal chasm. He was so in love with Sasha it was embarrassing. Hell, with it all said and done, he could barely tolerate the idea of Misha touching her.

For God’s sake, Misha was his best friend. They’d shared more women than Alexei could name, and not once had possessiveness ever entered the game.

Now it held Alexei by the balls.

Worse, Sasha had given herself completely. For him. And he didn’t know what to do with that level of selflessness. He sure as hell didn’t deserve it.

“Alexei, let me in,” Sasha demanded quietly.

“Just go.” It was all he could say. Nothing else could find its way past the hard knot at the base of his throat. Everything he held in silent, secret dreams stood beyond that closed door.

He never should have been so foolish.

“Alexei.” The doorknob jostled against the small of his back. “Please.”

Anger rose, making the pain, the shame, more bearable. Anger at himself for caring, at her for making him care. He shoved off the door and spun the faucet on. “Go, Sasha. You can’t love me. You don’t know the first damned thing about me.” Cupping his hands beneath the water, he splashed his face, ignoring the man in the mirror who he despised.

“I know you didn’t want to take me to Dubai. That if you could have, without jeopardizing your mission, you never would have sent me to Amir.”

But he had. He had fucked Sasha all through the night, then when she fell asleep, he’d stuffed that damned needle in her neck. She’d been too exhausted to even feel the prick.

He scrubbed at his face, then rinsed. Yeah—perfect reason to love him.

“I know you sent Misha to find me.”

Alexei paused for a heartbeat before yanking the towel off the wall. He could forgive Misha for that reveal—besides, he’d already told Sasha he’d sent someone back anyway.

She rattled the door handle again. “I know you shared all your women until Moscow. Until us.”

Still twined in the towel, his hands stilled. She was forcing him to listen.

Quieter, Sasha said, “I know about your mom, Alexei.”

He slammed the towel down. Son of a bitch. Misha had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

Alexei jerked open the door, shouldered past Sasha, and stormed upstairs into the sitting room. He stalked straight to the sofa bed where Misha reclined on his back, eyes closed, one arm thrown over his head. Not believing for a moment that his partner was actually sleeping, Alexei kicked the edge of the couch. “Get up.”

Misha cracked one eye open.

“Alexei, stop.” Sasha stopped in the entryway, anger coloring her face. “Misha was trying to help. Don’t take it out on him.”

“Help?” Alexei barked a derisive laugh. “Help you right out of your clothes, more like it. He damned sure didn’t help me.”

“No?” Reprobation coated Misha’s sharp question. He levered himself to his elbows, held himself up on his forearms. “She didn’t run away, did she?”

“That’s not the fucking point!” Alexei clenched his hands into tight fists. It was so damned tempting to jerk Misha out of that bed and slam sense into his face. “I’m supposed to
trust
you!”

“Alexei, damn it!” Sasha appeared at his side, her small hand digging into his forearm as she pulled him around. Wide blue eyes searched his. “What are you running from? Me? The idea I might love you? Or yourself?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but words failed him. Instead of supplying him with a logical response, they tumbled nonsensically. What came out was a product of disbelief, surprise, and too many years of self-directed hate. “I sold myself.”

His voice fell to a raspy whisper. “I gave them parts of me I can’t get back.” To hide his shame, he turned from her. But Misha was there, his unblinking stare daring Alexei to face the demons he’d run from for so long. Challenging him to confront the unexplainable understanding in Sasha’s tender expression and the utter lack of hesitation in her words.

He stared at the wall above the sofa. “I haven’t seen my mother
since I was seventeen…” Shaking his head, he trailed away, uncertain where the comment had come from or where he was going with it. “You don’t want to be mixed up with me.”

The bedsprings squeaked as Misha flounced onto his side, giving Alexei his back. “Let it be, Sasha. He doesn’t have the courage you do.”

Again the need to cause his partner physical harm struck Alexei in the gut. He tensed, fury rising once more. He might be despicable, but cowardly he was not. “Courage? Let’s talk about courage. Who’d you fuck tonight? Sasha, or Payton?”

“You son of a bitch!” Misha rocketed off the bed. His explosion echoed through the room, and the fire in his eyes demanded retribution. Standing on the other side of the extended mattress, his body coiled like a spring, ready and welcoming the fight.

Sasha wedged herself between Alexei and the bed a breath before he launched himself across the crumpled sheets. She gave his chest a forceful shove. “Stop it. Both of you.” Throwing Misha a threatening glare, she pushed Alexei again, nudging him back a step. “This is ridiculous.”

“Not when he’s too damned stupid to see what’s right in front of his eyes.”

Her gaze swung briefly to Misha.
“Shut. Up.”
Calmer, she looked back at Alexei and lowered her voice, her whisper so soft he had to strain to hear her. “All I said was I love you. You can’t control my feelings. You don’t have to love me in return, Alexei. I’m not asking you to.”

But he did. He loved her so much he couldn’t make sense of it all. Not how it had happened, not whether it was right or wrong, certainly not how he could deserve such a precious gift. Looking down at her, all that incredible feeling that had gone so long without an outlet—the pain, the loathing, the guilt, the pride, and his own incredible love for her—surged to the surface desperate to escape. He tangled one hand in the back of her hair and dragged her mouth against his. His kiss was hard, unrelenting, and he knew he was bruising her. God help him, he
couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop the gush of emotion, the irreversible opening of his heart.

And it hurt. So deep. So
good.

He dragged his mouth away, panting. “I do,” he whispered as he shifted his hands to frame her face between his palms. “You don’t have to ask.” His lips met hers, softer, less punishing. “I do.”

She was in his arms before he could wet his sticky throat with a swallow, her fingers sliding through his hair, her body melding into his, and he was kissing her like his life depended on it. Like he might never breathe again if her breath didn’t intertwine with his.

A
s Misha strained to regain control over his temper, he watched Alexei lift Sasha into the cradle of his arms. Their blended mewls and grunts joined with the frantic catch of their lips, bringing forth bittersweet memories that Alexei had pulled from the dark abyss of Misha’s soul. Remembrances of the beach, her laughter, her silvery eyes sparkling like moonlight on the water.

He closed his eyes to the tightening of his chest and forced his ears to listen to the sound of Alexei’s retreating footsteps. Ordered himself to forget the memories that wouldn’t die and instead find happiness in knowing his best friend had found what he, himself, had destroyed. It gave him a modicum of contentment, knowing Alexei and Sasha would soon be in that bed, rejoicing in the pleasures of their bodies, celebrating the hard-won victory.

When the roar of Misha’s pulse stopped, and silence descended around him, save for one soft, feminine laugh, he opened his eyes to the dim light. It was a good thing that Alexei would never let him near Sasha again. He genuinely liked her. If Alexei hadn’t cracked, hadn’t owned up to the affectionate light that glinted in his eyes each time he looked at Sasha, the three of them would have come together again. And again. Until things became complicated.

Though he kept himself closed off when it came to sex, intimacy
had a way of unveiling truths. Eventually, Sasha would realize she was just like the rest—a substitute for what Misha had once known and lost. The truth would offend her. No woman wanted to know that when a man buried himself inside her, he was thinking of fucking someone else.

Someone he had killed, as certainly as if he’d held a gun to her head and pulled the trigger.

He flipped the lamp off and stretched out on the bed. He wouldn’t sleep. Not tonight. But in a strange way, a bit of peace slipped in to soothe his constant torment. The knowledge that he had aided Alexei in discovering the acceptance he yearned for offered a degree of forgiveness to Misha’s sins. He could go to his grave knowing he had done one thing right. One selfless act that might override the wrong he could never correct.

A
s sunlight streamed in through the high window above the bed, Alexei basked in the morning. Propped on one elbow, his head supported in his hand, he grinned down at Sasha. It felt good—this business of letting his heart rule. Of being accepted for what he was, the things he had done. Although part of him still couldn’t relax enough to believe something wouldn’t come along and jerk his contentment out from under him.