Russian Mobster's Pregnant Mistress

by Bella Rose

  Russian Mobster's Pregnant Mistress

  By: Bella Rose

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright 2016 Bella Rose

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY ENJOY

  Russian Mobster's Arranged Love

  Chapter One

  The smoky air of Club 599 made Maggie’s eyes sting. She reached for Courtney’s arm, trying not to get lost in the shuffle of club goers. The dance floor was packed wall to wall with writhing, spinning bodies. It was a sea of humanity and Maggie felt like a salmon swimming upstream with no clue why she was doing it.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this!” Maggie had to yell in Courtney’s ear in order to be heard over the pounding music.

  Courtney’s laugh sounded almost maniacal. “You know you love it! Besides, you never go out. It’s time to get you laid.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know about that.” In fact, Maggie was absolutely sure Courtney’s idea was a bad one. “I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl.”

  “Everyone needs to try it once.” Courtney dragged Maggie toward the bar. “Let’s get a drink and scope out the guys.”

  Courtney bellied up to the long bar that stretched the length of the club. The chrome and glass monstrosity boasted colored lights that painted both the bartenders and patrons in an eerie glow. Maggie sighed. No matter what she ordered to drink, it was going to look like witches brew.

  “We’ll take two Cosmopolitans,” Courtney yelled to the bartender.

  The man waved his hand to let her know that he had heard her order. Maggie looked him over. The blond haired, blue-eyed Adonis could have played a bartender in a movie. Maggie leaned over, staring down the length of the bar and noticing that every last one of the bartenders looked exactly like this one. Obviously Club 599 had a type.

  “So,” Courtney said, jabbing Maggie in the arm. “Anything catch your eye?”

  “Other than your complete and total lack of regard for anything I say?” Maggie said grouchily. “Not really.”

  “Ooo! What about that one?” Courtney pointed to a man, maybe late twenties, who casually leaned back against the bar with a beer in his hand.

  Maggie grabbed her friend’s hand and yanked it back down. Did Courtney have to be so obvious about everything? “Could you at least pretend to be discreet?” Maggie frowned. “He looks like a player,” Maggie said doubtfully. She took a sip of her drink. It burned all the way down. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had alcohol.

  “Sweetie, that’s what you need,” Courtney insisted. “You’re not looking for a relationship here. You just want to have a good time. Get back on the horse, so to speak. That means you need a guy that can really show you a good time.”

  “Yeah, but I want one that doesn’t come complete with VD.” Maggie was about ready to bolt. “Look, Court. I know you have my best interests at heart, but we are very different people. I don’t think I can do this.”

  About that time Maggie became aware of a man staring at her from across the club. The weight of his gaze made it feel as though there was no air in the room. Time seemed to slow and Maggie could not look away no matter how hard she tried. There was something utterly compelling about him.

  “Mags?” Courtney’s tone suggested she’d been trying to get Maggie’s attention for more than a moment. “Ha! You see someone, don’t you? Who? I demand to know what’s going on.”

  “Do you see that guy over there?” Maggie tried to be surreptitious about her pointing. Not that it mattered when Courtney was already rubbernecking to try and see who Maggie was pointing at. “Have you ever seen him in here before?”

  “That dark-haired dude?” Courtney’s blond brows drew together. “He looks scary.”

  Maggie tried to see what Courtney was seeing, but couldn’t. The man didn’t look scary to her, although he did appear intense. He was perhaps six feet tall and a bit more, a nice contrast to Maggie’s five feet eight inches. Most of the men she had dated over the years were barely tall enough for her to be able to wear heels. This guy wasn’t just tall. He was also broad. His shoulders were huge. They seemed to be straining against the confines of his dark-blue dress shirt.

  “Why does he look like he’s wearing business casual instead of club wear?” Maggie observed.

  Courtney laughed. “He’s probably a crime lord of some sort. You know, it’s like the Godfather. He’s only here to scope out a murder target or something.”

  “You are so full of crap.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “I think you missed your calling. Practicing Family Law doesn’t suit you if you’re so eager to find a criminal to nail to the wall. I finally find a guy that catches my eye and you paint him into one of your overdramatic fantasies.”

  “The guy is wearing black slacks and a dress shirt in a club.” Courtney waved to the sassy coral-pink dress that had taken Maggie days to pick out at the local boutique. “Don’t you want a guy who will appreciate what you’re offering?”

  Maggie wondered if it was possible to explain to a perky blonde extrovert like Courtney that sometimes it was okay not to stand out. Maggie’s brown hair, brown eyes and slender frame sometimes made people think she was much younger than her twenty-five years. Maybe this guy had the reverse problem. Maybe he was really in his mid twenties, but looked thirty-five.

  “He looks older.” It was Courtney’s turn to be doubtful. “Like much older.”

  “What if I want an older guy?” Maggie made a face at her friend. “I’m supposed to be getting sex lessons right? So an older guy would definitely have more experience.”

  “So go talk to him.” Courtney gave her a nudge. “Stop standing here asking me what I’d do and go do your own thing.”

  Now that the chips were on the table, Maggie wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. “No. Let’s just go home. I’ve changed my mind. This was a bad idea. I’ll be mad at you for it later.”

  “Hate to tell you, but it’s a little late for that.” Courtney downed the rest of her drink. “He’s totally coming over here. You know the drill. Text me in the morning. If I don’t hear from you by ten 10:00 a.m. I’m sending the cavalry.” Courtney shot Maggie the stink eye. “And for the record, I will be pissed. I want details!”

  Jacob did not make a habit of picking up women in clubs or bars. In fact, he did not make a habit of picking up women at all. When he wanted a woman, one of his men brought one to him. By the time any female made it to his bed she had been vetted by his men until there was no longer any hint mystery about her. This was very likely the reason he was so bored, and probably why he found the female in the pink dress so fascinating.

  He pushed his way past a group of dancers, earning several curses. He returned their dark looks with one of his own and they skittered away. He had discovered over the years that very few people could hold his gaze for long. This was another reason the brunette in the pink dress interested him. She had been staring.

  Across the club Jacob saw his man, Sasha preparing to intervene if someone should threaten Jacob. The presence of his security detail was almost suffocating. Yes. He was the top ranking man in the Dolohov crime syndicate. That got old so very quickly. For once Jacob wanted to be a normal man with normal desires. At the moment, his only desi
re involved the slim woman in the short pink dress with legs long enough to wrap around his waist. Jacob wanted to stab his fingers through all of that long, dark hair and feel her surrender everything to him.

  Even in the smoky club he could see her eyes widen and her rate of breathing increase. She was nervous and excited. Perfect. Jacob felt his lips curve into a smile and hoped it wasn’t too rusty with disuse. “Hello, can I buy you a drink?”

  She looked at a loss momentarily, and then she rallied. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

  “Bartender,” Jacob said sharply. He saw the young man snap to attention, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to tend to Jacob. “Get the young lady another drink.” Not a request, but an order.

  “Wow, talk about attitude,” the brunette commented.

  Jacob noticed her blond haired companion sidling away to pursue a conquest of her own. He dismissed the other woman in his mind and focused on this one. “My name is Jacob. And you are?”

  “Charmed, I’m sure.” She was laughing. This woman was actually laughing at him! Then she offered a smile that held a certain edge. “My name is Maggie.”

  “Maggie.” He tasted her name, finding that he liked the everyday sound of it. This was perfect. She was perfectly ordinary. “And what brings you to Club 599, Maggie?”

  “Oh you know, just hanging out with friends.” She cast glance in the direction of the blonde.

  “Why do I get the feeling that statement barely scratches the surface of why you’re here?” He watched her unconscious body language, trying to get a read on her.

  Her expression was almost playful. He found it charming. She wrinkled her nose at him. “What? A girl can’t go out unless she has some secret agenda?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he protested. “I simply suggested that you seem as if you’re here for a reason.”

  Her brown eyes could only be described as frank. She hid absolutely nothing from him. It was refreshing, and perhaps a little shocking. “I suppose I came to this club to find a candidate for my attempt at a one-night stand.”

  “And how has that been working out for you?” he asked, deliberately keeping his tone casual.

  “I don’t know. I suppose you had better ask me in the morning.” The expression on her face was enchanting. Then she put her face in her hands, her cheeks flushing bright red. “I can’t believe I just said that. It’s probably the alcohol. I don’t drink much and I’m a total lightweight.”

  Jacob waved away any concerns about her being too bold. He found he liked it. “Do you have a strategy?” He warmed to the conversation, feeling the usual coolness he carried with him dropping away. “Generally when men do this sort of hunting we have a strategy.”

  “Well my friend there”—she gestured to the blonde—“has a vast deal of experience with one-night stands.” Maggie sighed. “I would call her a serial one-nighter myself. But she decided it would work best to come to this club, pick up a player who was capable of showing me a good time, and then get a hotel or something.”

  “And do you think this tactic would work for you?” He sensed she did not.

  The bartender delivered her drink and she took a sip. Jacob watched her slim throat move as she swallowed and imagined what it would feel like to see her swallow his cock.

  “Actually, I think she’s crazy.” Maggie airily waved a hand. “I mean, how do you figure out who pays for the room or where to go? And going to some strange guy’s house is like begging to star in a Lifetime movie. Bringing him to my place would be tempting fate to give me a stalker.” She pushed her full lips into a pout. “It’s really quite hopeless.”

  Jacob leaned in closer. He inhaled the scent of her and found her delectable. The phrase “I want her” did not begin to describe his natural attraction to this woman. His body was already responding to her. His cock swelled to full hardness, tenting his slacks and making it necessary for him to stand closer to the bar than he would have normally liked.

  He let his breath whisper over the sensitive shell of her ear. “What if I were to tell you that I have a suite at the hotel across the street? Would that ease your mind?”

  “Hmm,” she murmured. “I suppose that would help.”

  “Then shall we dispense with the small talk and head for my suite?” He was actually teasing, but her expression said she was considering it.

  “I should be up front about a few things first,” she told him.

  Her repetitive candidness amused Jacob. A man would never be bored with Maggie. “And those things are?”

  She heaved a giant sigh and puffed out a stream of air that sent the soft tendrils of hair around her face flying. “It’s been nearly two years since I had sex. And I have to tell you that it wasn’t that good.” She seemed to reconsider. “I don’t mean to say that I’m no good at sex. Although I suppose its rather difficult to say that about yourself. You need another person to help you determine skill, don’t you?”

  “I would think so.” Jacob struggled not to laugh. “I would be most happy to end your dry spell and help you decide if you need practice between the sheets.”

  “Okay, that is the cheesiest pickup line ever.” She actually rolled her eyes at him. People never did that. It was truly a novel experience.

  “And yet you set me up for that line with your baffling desire to tell me of your suspected lacking in bedroom skills,” he pointed out. “I was only giving you the obvious response.”

  “Damn, you’re absolutely right.” She threw her head back and laughed loud and long.

  The sound of her laughter was a truly beautiful thing. Jacob felt himself responding. Yes. He wanted to sink into Maggie and lose himself in her delightful body, but it was her mind that was captivating him with each second that passed.

  Chapter Two

  Maggie was starting to think that her definition of a suite and Jacob’s definition of a suite were two very different things. First of all, she hadn’t paid much attention to what hotel was across the street from the club. The Plaza wasn’t just any hotel. It was so far out of Maggie’s price range that she would have considered a one-night stay on par with a vacation.

  Now she was trying to play it cool while Jacob escorted her through the lobby. The marble floors and vaulted ceilings made Maggie feel like a peon walking through a palace.

  Maggie caught a glimpse of two men keeping pace with them from half a dozen yards away. “Are those men following us?” She peered at them while trying not to be too obvious about it. “I swear they’ve been on our tail since we left the club.”

  “Should I be worried that you’re checking them out in case you’re considering asking one of them for a one-night stand?” Jacob’s expression was full of amusement, but his tone didn’t match.

  “Yeah, they don’t look like my type.” She gave the two muscle bound men another sideways glance. “I’m not into super beefy, rent-a-cop looking guys.”

  “Here we go.” He ushered her into the elevator and they were finally rid of their creepy admirers.

  Jacob had to insert his keycard into the elevator door in order to access the top floor. Who was this guy anyway? He did look as if he had some money. Maybe she’d managed to snag a Fortune 500 businessman. She didn’t keep up with that stuff enough to be able to spot a billionaire anyway. It would serve her right if she’d accidentally snagged a super rich guy, but didn’t know enough to hang on to him.

  The doors whooshed open and they stepped into a foyer done in dark wood and sand colored marble. There was a huge vase of flowers on a little table in the center of the room.

  “Does it always look like this?” she wondered out loud. “I mean, the flowers, the basket of wine and cheese over on the coffee table, and that fully stocked bar. I would almost expect to see a little butler guy standing here ready to take orders.

  “I have no idea how it looks when I’m not here,” he said with a careless shrug.

  “I suppose that’s true enough.” She couldn’t exactly put him on t
rial for something that wasn’t at all his fault.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  Hell yes! I’m so nervous I could use about ten. “Sure, that would be nice.” She struggled to keep a cool face even though her nerves were eating her alive.

  “Wine, perhaps?” He stepped behind the bar, looking oddly at home. “Or would you prefer something a little harder like vodka?”

  “Wine would be good.”

  “Red or white?”

  “Ugh! Just pick something and pour me a drink before I chicken out!” She clapped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment when she realized what she had said. Could she make it any more obvious that she was not an experienced woman of the world?

  He pulled a glass from the overhead storage rack and reached for a bottle of red wine. The fragrant stuff smelled of flowers and rich, earthy fruit. Maggie grabbed the glass and sucked it dry. A pleasant tingling sensation began in her hands and traveled throughout her body. It was like a shot of instant relaxation.

  “I’ll have another, please?” She gestured to her glass.

  “Only if you promise to take it a little slower this time.” He held the bottle aloft, brow raised, until she nodded her agreement. He only poured her a half glass, the weenie.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked glibly. “You don’t sleep with tipsy girls?”

  “I plan to bring you exquisite pleasure.” The promise in his voice made her shiver. “You need to be conscious to enjoy it.”

  “So when does this pleasure begin?” She took a sip of her fresh glass of wine. The flavor popped on her tongue and made her mouth water. Not unlike her companion.

  “Now.”

  He placed his hands flat on the bar top and leaned over. Maggie froze in anticipation. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath. Then his lips touched hers in the lightest of caresses. She leaned forward, wanting more. He increased the pressure, sliding his tongue across the seam of her mouth.

  She gave a little moan. The wine she’d drunk mingled with the taste of Jacob on her tongue. She’d never experienced anything like it. He didn’t feel like a stranger. Was he exciting and different? Yes. But something about him made her feel strangely secure. As if he would keep her safe from everything and anything life threw her way.