“You’re walking to the outside,” I point out.
“I am,” he admits.
“Why?” I ask, wishing to hear him say the words—for what reason, I’m not sure.
“It’s safer for you, kroshka.”
I close my eyes for a split second, letting the memory of my father envelop me. I then quickly wish it away, so that I can function for the day. I try not to think of my parents often, but just hearing that Konstantin is a man like my father, even in the slightest, makes the pain bubble to the top.
“Thank you, Konstantin,” I murmur.
He doesn’t say anything else as we arrive at a big, black SUV. It’s a Land Rover, and I can’t help my grin at the sight of it. It’s awesome, and I love it. It’s blacked out from the front to the back; even the windows have limo tint. It’s just so freaking badass, just like Konstantin.
“What’s it mean, kroshka?” I ask after he gets inside and eases out onto the street.
“Bread crumb is the literal word translated to English,” he chuckles, “but in Russian, it means baby,” he explains.
I bite my bottom lip, unsure of how I feel about him calling me baby—unsure because I like it. Dominik and I are not exclusive. We’re not anything, really, so I shouldn’t feel the twinge of guilt that I do for being attracted to Konstantin.
I close my eyes with a heavy sigh and wonder how this came to be. I shouldn’t be anywhere near the badmen; yet here I am, smack dab in the middle, wondering what on earth I’m going to do with them. Maybe I should just run away.
A LOW BUZZING WAKES me up, and I realize that it’s my phone dancing across the nightstand. I reach for it, not bothering to look at the display before I answer. My eyes wouldn’t be able to adjust anyway. I’m too fucking tired for that.
This war is going to wear my ass out, and it hasn’t even really started yet.
“Markov,” I grunt into the phone.
“We’ve just had shift change. I thought you were going to be here for that,” Manya barks into my ear. Fuck, the old babushka cow is shrill.
“I’m on my way,” I mutter.
It takes me twenty minutes to shower and dress before I walk out the door in an all-black suit. It takes another thirty to drive to the whores houses. Luckily, they’re all on the same block, so it won’t take me long to do a check up on each of them before I can carry on with my night.
“Finally,” Manya says with a grin as I walk inside.
There are two Byki on the front porch, and two more inside. Four may not seem like many to most people, but these men are trained in military style combat, hand-to-hand, and weaponry. One of them is like having five regular men.
Ignoring the old bitch, I pull out my phone and look at the update that the day shift left me. Each Byki is required to send me an update once their shift has ended, no matter who they are watching. This one looks like everything is operating normally. They have a list of the Johns that came and left the house, plus a list of the women who met Johns at the hotel.
“Hey, Dom,” Alla says as she slides her hand up my arm.
“Hey,” I grunt.
She’s pressing her big tits against my forearm. They’re completely bare, and so is she, except for a little triangle G-string that covers her pussy lips. Her short, bobbed cut, black hair is styled perfectly, as is her makeup and her red painted lips. I’ve fucked her a couple dozen times, and she’s one of my favorites—but tonight, my dick doesn’t even twitch.
“I’m free for the next two hours. You wanna have some fun?” she asks, arching her brow in question.
I do want to have fun, but not with her. I want to feel the wavy, soft-as-fuck, long brown hair of Inessa’s all over my skin. I want to feel her warm, tight cunt wrapped around me. And I want to hear her screams and moans of passion. So I suppose for the first time in my adult life, I’m going to turn down a whore, and that—that doesn’t sit well with me. It makes me feel—odd.
“Can’t tonight. Got work to do,” I say, begging off.
I make my way to the two other whore houses the Bratva owns and turn down a few more girls before I get back to my car. I grip my steering wheel tightly, wondering what in the fuck is happening to me. The whores are gorgeous, beautiful girls—not gutter trash street walkers.
They’re offering their bodies to me—bodies I’ve taken time and time again, paying them well for it. Yet, tonight, I don’t even want them. I could do it. I could get my cock up and I could enjoy them. They’re professionals, girls that service politicians, businessmen, and even a foreign dignitary or two. Not once have we had a complaint about them, not even from me; but I don’t want any of them right now.
My mind only has one woman on it—Inessa.
I drive toward the club. Tonight is collection night. Yakov will be collecting and counting dues from all the Brigadier’s, me being one of them. Because I control the whores, I always bring in the most, which means my cut is the largest—more incentive for the other men to get shit done around Staten Island.
Once I’m parked at the club, I open the trunk of my Audi R8 and grab my briefcase. The club is closed tonight, since it’s Sunday, so I have to swipe my key card to gain entrance.
The building is dark, except for the back VIP room where I see a light shining. It’s where we always make our transactions—pay our monthly dues, count, divide, and get our cuts. This time will be slightly different because we have all of the extra Byki’s to pay as well. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
When I walk inside, I see Yakov sitting behind a desk, a cigar in his mouth, and twenty or so other men loitering around. I drop my suitcase in the center of the desk, and Yakov smiles with a chin lift, handing the case over to Petya, his Sovietnik.
Typically, I would be the one to count the cash on a collection night, but with all the upheaval and the extra duties I’ve been given, Yakov decided to have Petya come and help. I’m grateful for it, as I’m still exhausted from everything that happened last night, along with being away all day.
Not to mention, my mind seems to be distracted with thoughts of Inessa.
“Dr. Pavlov mentioned you have somebody on his daughter,” Yakov grunts.
“I didn’t even know he had a daughter,” I respond.
“Me either. He’s private, very private. I talked to Sergei this morning and mentioned it in passing. He knew,” Yakov says.
“Yeah?”
“Her father was a Brigadier, killed in his sleep, along with the wife. Pavlov was friends with the family. When he hadn’t heard from them in two days, he paid a visit and found the little girl sitting between her dead parents, covered in blood. Only five years old,” Yakov says, shaking his head. “He took her in, raised her as his own.”
“She wasn’t taken by the Bratva?” I ask, still curious as to why she wasn’t sold back then.
“Pavlov protected her. It’s why nobody, except Sergei, knows her connection to him. Well, nobody living anyway,” he shrugs.
The conversation is dropped once the money starts being distributed. Yakov explains that he’ll handle the Byki’s fees, but he takes a little more off of everybody’s cut to cover it. Nobody complains. In times of war, you sacrifice.
We’ve got more men in New York than we’ve ever had, and more are coming. These men have families and bills that need to be paid just like everybody else. We’ll live with a little thinner wallet for a while, but we’ll all survive. Hopefully, this war will be quick and virtually painless from here on out.
“You want a drink?” I ask Yakov.
“Nyet. Ashley waits at home. The baby isn’t treating her nicely,” he chuckles.
“She okay?” I ask, taking a shot of vodka.
“Just morning sickness. She’ll be fine,” he shrugs.
“Go home to her,” I urge as I take my phone out of my pocket.
I decide to send a text to Inessa. The only thing that I want to do right now is sink inside of her. She’s a temptation that I can’t stay away from
, and I have a feeling she’s becoming a bit more. It’s dangerous for both of us, but right now, I’m too tired to analyze it or even care.
Me: Call me.
Inessa: It’s late.
Me: Come to my place. I’ll be there in twenty.
She doesn’t respond, but I see that she’s read the message. I take my envelope in hand, tossing it into my briefcase as I say goodbye to the men who are drinking and carrying on. Usually, I would stay as well, but not tonight. Tonight, I only want inside Inessa’s cunt.
I speed home, checking my phone every five seconds to see no new texts from her. By the time I’m jogging up the stairs to the elevator, I’m certain she won’t be coming over tonight, and I’m disappointed.
I ride the elevator, hoping that my phone will alert me to a new text, but it never does. I sigh heavily before shoving my phone in my pocket, taking my keys out as the elevator car doors open.
I walk toward my door and freeze when my gaze crashes with hers.
Standing in nothing but a coat and a pair of high heels, her face bare of any makeup, and her wavy hair tumbling around her shoulders, is Inessa. She looks like a fucking dream. She looks like sin and temptation all packaged together and waiting to ruin me.
I shake my head and continue walking up to her, shoving my key in the lock right next to her waist. I then open the door and wait for her to step inside. When she does, I follow her and then lock the door behind us before I set my briefcase down next to my feet.
Dominik sets his briefcase down, all the while his eyes never break from mine. He’s so damn handsome, and I wonder what exactly I was thinking when I thought that Konstantin was even close to comparable to him. He’s not.
Dominik has me, he so has me, and I hate it. I know that I’ll never have him—not really. There’s something holding him back from wanting anything other than a physical relationship, and I don’t want to even think about what it is. It hurts too badly the second I start to think about his possible reasons.
“Inessa,” he whispers, the sound of his voice going straight to my core.
I close my eyes as I untie my coat. When he texted, I was lying in bed, reading a book and enjoying the quiet. I’d spent all day long on edge, not just because Konstantin was like my shadow, but also because the clients I met with were horrible, awful, selfish, entitled asshole people.
“Yagodka,” he rasps when my jacket falls to the floor.
I open my eyes and look at him. He’s staring at my naked body, watching as it shivers when he calls me his pet name. I’ve never done anything like this before, driven to a man’s house completely nude—save for a coat covering me. I’ve never gone anywhere like this before.
He walks up to me. Two short strides, and his black shirt presses against my bare chest, causing my already hard nipples to rub against the fabric. I flatten my palms against his chest and move them up to dive in his long hair. He looks like he’s been running his fingers through it all day long, and I find myself instantly jealous that it wasn’t my fingers running through the soft strands.
Dominik’s hands grab onto my ass before he lifts me slightly. My high heels slip from my feet as he walks us to his bedroom.
“You tempt me, Inessa. Fuck, how you tempt me,” he growls before he lays me down on his bed, my back hitting the mattress softly and legs hanging over the edge.
I open my mouth to speak but don’t get the chance to utter a word before Dominik’s mouth is crushed against mine, his tongue filling me. I wrap my legs around the backs of his thighs and try to pull him closer to me, needing his strong body pressed against mine. He doesn’t relent immediately, but then I hear his pants and belt clatter against the floor, and with one hard thrust, he’s buried inside of me.
“Dominik,” I moan.
“No, you don’t call me that,” he growls into my mouth as he shifts his hips, pulling completely out of me—all except for the head of his cock.
“Nik,” I whisper.
He grins before he surges back inside of me. My hands fly to his back, underneath his shirt, right above his ass, my nails digging into his muscled lower back as my neck arches with each thrust of his hips, each move of his cock inside of me.
He wraps his hand around my shoulder and pulls me down as he drives into me with even more power, his strength pouring from him and into me. I whimper as the pain rolls through me; pain that I fully accept; pain that I not only endure, but enjoy.
“You need to come, Nessa,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.
I look up into his glittering, light blue eyes, and I nod, biting my bottom lip. He feels so good. His long, hard strokes are timed to perfection, and he fills me in a way that nobody else has ever filled me before. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to come. Right now, he’s focused on me, nothing else in the world exists except for us, and it’s amazing.
“Now, Nessa,” he barks as his thumb presses against my clit and begins to rub firm circles.
It doesn’t take much, maybe two strokes with his thumb, and then I detonate. My body locks around him, my legs around his thighs, my arms around his lower back, and I arch my spine as I climax. He growls before he moans and stills inside of me, his release filling me.
“Fuck,” he curses before he slowly, gently, moves his hips in and out of me, his body leaning into mine and pressing me further into the mattress.
“I need to leave,” I practically choke.
It was too good, too freaking damn good, and right now, with him being tender, I’m falling a little more. I need to go. I need to get away from him. I can’t do this anymore.
“No, you’re not leaving,” he grunts, his face buried in my neck.
“I am,” I state.
“Yagodka, I just fucked you bare for the first time, and you’re not leaving me right now,” he murmurs against my skin. I freeze.
“Get off of me,” I whisper.
Dominik’s head snaps up and his eyes narrow on me, but he doesn’t move a muscle. He stays, his cock planted inside of me and his stomach pressing me into the bed.
“Fuck no. What’s wrong with you?” he demands, his voice low and deep.
“You didn’t use a condom? Are you crazy?”
“You fucking anybody else, Nessa? You not on birth control?” he asks, any tenderness he held now completely gone from his features.
“It’s not your business if I am, and yes, I’m on birth control, you dick,” I shout, pushing against his shoulders with my palms. He doesn’t move even a centimeter.
“My dick’s inside of you. It’s my fucking business,” he growls.
“I don’t know where your dick’s been, so, no—no way in hell is anything I do your business.”
“My dick’s only been inside you, lately,” he rumbles. “Though, it wouldn’t matter who I’d been with, Nessa, because everything you do is my business since you’re in my bed, regardless of who else accompanies me here,” he spits as he slides out of me and stands up.
I watch as he pulls his slacks up, buttoning them but leaving his belt undone and his shirt untucked. His hair is a little wild, and his eyes are alight with fire. He looks sexy as sin, but he’s also a freaking asshole. I look around to find something to cover my body, but the freaking asshole’s bedroom is freaking spotless.
“I don’t like those terms. And how is what I do your business? You don’t even see me other than these booty calls every few nights. Don’t bullshit me, Dominik.”
“You’ve said enough. I’d advise you to shut up now,” he grinds out.
“This doesn’t work for me anymore. You’re wanting too much, Dominik,” I say as I stand from the bed.
I don’t even get one step. Dominik presses his flat palm in the center of my chest and pushes me back onto the bed, his body following until his arms are next to my head, caging me in.
“Do you want me to date you? Is that what this is about?” he asks as he runs his nose along mine.
“It wouldn’t matter what I want. From day one,
you’ve made it perfectly clear that all you can offer me is your cock. I don’t want it anymore,” I state firmly.
“You want more than my cock, Nessa. You want my fingers and my mouth, too,” he whispers as one of his hands leaves the side of my head. I feel his fingers start to play with my nipples.
“Please don’t. Please, just let me leave,” I whimper.
“No other man will go near you, Inessa,” he grunts as I feel him shift.
I watch as he quickly divests himself of his clothing before he grabs behind my knee and spreads my legs, filling me again.
“Dominik,” I breathe.
I don’t want him, but damnit, he feels so good. I tell myself that this is for the last time—that I won’t be back. He wants too much without giving me anything in return. I can’t live like this another day. He’s crossed the line, demanding way too much from me.
“Who am I, yagodka?” he grinds out as he continues to thrust in and out of me.
“Nik, you’re Nik,” I cry out.
Dominik fucks me. He doesn’t make love to me, he doesn’t have sex with me, he fucks—and he fucks me hard. His eyes never leave mine. They’re penetrating, and I know that he’s trying to tell me something with his intense gaze, but I refuse to accept it.
We’re done.
It’s been almost two months, which is almost one month and three weeks too long. I should have never fallen into bed with him.
I should have trusted my gut and run from him the second I saw him in that Tudor home I showed his boss. Now I’ve let him inside of me, let him use me, and he thinks he has some kind of control over me because of it. He doesn’t. I’m not his, and he isn’t mine—no matter how badly my heart aches for it.
I COULDN’T KEEP INESSA from leaving me after I fucked her the second time. Now, I’m completely alone, her scent still lingering in my bedroom, and I feel—empty. I’m under no illusion that she’ll run back over here if I text her again. She thinks she’s done with me, but she isn’t. Or at least, I’m not done with her.
Tempting the Badman (Russian Bratva #5) Page 3