Free Possess (The Syndicate: Crime and Passion Book 1) by Kaye Blue

attached,” he said.
    His face was set in a smile, his voice full with humor, but I could detect the thread of seriousness in it. That seriousness was well placed. Maxim, Sergei, Adrian, everyone tried to keep me completely insulated from that darker, violent side of their business, but even their efforts were insufficient. I never saw anything but couldn’t help but hear the whispered stories, knew them all well enough to know they were capable of violence. They had to be to survive.
    That should have scared, disgusted me, but it didn’t. I simply accepted the violence, their capacity for it, as a part of the world I chose to live in.
    I looked at Sergei again, shook my head. “Don’t worry. He wouldn’t go to that trouble over me,” I said.
    He furrowed his brow and then shrugged. “Whatever you say, Se,” he said.
    “Good night, Sergei,” I said, turning away.
    I went to my room, my face still flaming but some of the embarrassment having gone away. I was really so desperate for validation, I’d asked that silly question of Sergei, a person who was a friend but nothing more. Maybe I should put a cherry on top of the day and find Adrian to ask him.
    A cold, humorless laugh bubbled out of my throat as I prepared for bed, angry with myself, frustrated with Maxim, and still bursting with longing for him that only got stronger, despite his unspoken rejection.
    Frustration that would go nowhere, desire and longing that had even less of an outlet. I lay in bed for at least two hours, though sleep wasn’t even a distant possibility.
    But as I lay there, Sergei’s words replayed in my mind, replayed for so long that I started to wonder if maybe he had a point.
    Why didn’t I ask the person whose opinion mattered?
    I pulled back the covers and got out of bed.

Thirteen
    M axim

    A s had become my pattern , I moved through my office, directly to the gym without pause. I couldn’t stop because if I did, I knew I would go to her, and I wouldn’t do that. So instead, I would work my body to the point of exhaustion, beyond if necessary.
    After I’d removed my clothes, I warmed up with a few push-ups but soon turned to my punching post. I hit the plank again and again, but was no closer to burning off the frustration that wound its way through me.
    Killing Santo might help. I had the power and muscle to quickly squash any threat he would try to throw at me. And though I had admonished Sergei about his brashness, the idea was tempting.
    I continued to hit, turning the thought over, weighing the pros and cons, ultimately deciding against doing so. Giving Santo his just deserts would be satisfying, but only temporarily so.
    Because I knew there was only one thing that would give me complete satisfaction.
    And it was the one thing I would not do.
    I had seen Senna, didn’t go a day without doing so if I could help it, but I hadn’t talked to her, spent any time with her.
    Because I didn’t trust myself.
    I could still feel her now, the pressure of her hands on my thighs, her sweet lips against my skin, her harsh breaths against me.
    I wanted to feel it again. Wanted more.
    But I couldn’t take it, wouldn’t let myself.
    I’d long ago learned and accepted that much of the world was beyond understanding and knew even more that understanding things didn’t change them. The thing between me and Senna was proof of that.
    When I’d first glimpsed her, a decision had been made. I hadn’t understood it then, didn’t understand it now, so I had never given it too much thought, hadn’t bothered to examine things between us. Examining it wouldn’t change it because the bottom line was I wanted her completely, suspected I was addicted to her, needed her as I needed nothing and no one else.
    The intensity of that need, one that had always been there, growing over the years, but that had gone into overdrive in these recent weeks, meant I couldn’t touch her.
    I wanted her too badly, and giving into that want, giving into that