Dirty Kisses_Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

by Kenya Wright

  I murmured, “Okay.”

  “We’re friends, Emily.” He curved those wicked lips into a smile. “It would make me feel more comfortable, if you were safe at all times.”

  “I understand. I’ll do anything to make you feel more comfortable.”

  To my surprise, he licked his lips.

  Not the reaction I thought I would get, but. . .okay.

  He slipped his gaze down the front of my jacket as if his eyes could open the garment. But then, maybe it was all my imagination because I surely wanted him to open it.

  No. He’s too dangerous for a fling.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Do you have any questions?”

  I was surprised he’d even asked.

  Well. . .I’m horny now, thanks for that. So. . .I’ll probably do a quick hook up from Tinder. Where does Luka hang out during my sexy times? Will he be sitting in one corner of the bed watching?

  I shifted my weight to one foot, trying to figure out a way to ask him.

  “Say it,” Kazimir said. “You definitely have a question on your mind.”

  “When I’m. . .on a date with a guy, will Luka still have to be with me?”

  “Let’s leave that question for when you have time for dating.” Kazimir shrugged. “For now, you simply don’t have the time. Our new arrangement will keep you busy.”

  And how long will this new arrangement last? How long will you have my brother?

  Before I could ask, he glared at me. “Don’t disappear again.”

  I nodded.

  “Being my washer has become a dangerous job,” he continued. “It would be smart to be with my men the whole time.”

  “Of course.”

  “Besides, there’s talk of a serial killer in the city.” He studied my face again and then turned his attention to my braids. “I really like your hair this way.”

  And with that, he left me on the roof top, horny and in shock.

  Okay. I’m still alive, and he’s even more dangerous than I thought.

  And I didn’t know what had knocked me off balance the most, his orders, the sex on the roof, or the fact that he’d pressed his cock to my behind and never offered more.

  Damn. Thank God he hadn’t. I don’t know if I could say no.

  I was supposed to be the one seducing Kazimir, not the other way around.

  Had Maxwell been there, he would’ve been shaking his head.

  “Never let the gangsters get the upper hand, Em.”

  Well, that rule had been easier to follow, when the gangsters looked like crap. But Kazimir was gorgeous. I imagined many women had difficulty keeping their clothes on around him.

  I must get the upper hand. He’s supposed to be hot for me, not the other way around.

  Walking off the roof with Luka on my right, I wondered how I could turn everything back around.

  Chapter 8

  Kazimir

  When I entered my room, the woman from the live sex performance on the roof was now on my bed. She was red hair and honey colored eyes. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Beautiful.

  Not enough. Not tonight.

  “Did you enjoy my performance?” She slipped her hands along the silky red dress she wore that matched her hair perfectly.

  Sasha and I had decided to stay in the same building as the brothel just in case something else came up.

  I studied the woman as she smiled back at me. “Yes, I enjoyed your performance.”

  There was no reason to ask why she was there. Sasha knew I would want to stuff my cock into something after running around Harlem all day. My body surely needed the release. And who else but the best of our establishment to please me?

  The problem was, I needed another type of creature this evening and she’d just walked away from me.

  “You are beautiful,” I said to the woman on the bed. “But tonight, I will not need you.”

  Frowning, she rose from the bed and swayed over to me. “And tomorrow night?”

  “That is a question for tomorrow.”

  She reached out to touch my lips.

  I gently grabbed her hand before she could. “Goodnight.”

  She put on a fake smile, but her eyes said she was aggravated.

  “I guess that is a goodnight.” She moved her hand and walked around me. “I will see you later.”

  I never turned around as the door closed behind me.

  How did Emily escape Luka?

  I smiled at the absurdity of it all. Such a beautiful, yet soft woman bypassing a big scary man like Luka.

  What is she doing now? Did the roof top talk teach her a lesson?

  I’d used a different method with Emily. I’d intended the sex to make her uncomfortable, but she’d shifted to the opposite—completely turned on and damn near licking her lips at the sight of the fucking couple. I’d watched her feet move a centimeter and her thighs press together and knew she was getting wet.

  My cock surely yearned to teach her more. I’d planned to dominate her, yet her body had lured me in for something more. To my destruction, I’d gotten too close. So close, I swore I could smell the sweet scent of her pussy as we talked.

  Who dominated who on the roof tonight?

  It had shifted my goals. I’d gone from wanting to teach her a lesson to yearning to bend her over and show her and the couple what real sex looked like.

  But it was just a consequence of the moment. Nothing else. The brothel reeked of sex. The couple had ignited the need for lust higher and damn near had sprayed hormones into the audience. I’d enjoyed watching the couple, but when Emily stepped into the space, for some reason, I’d enjoyed watching her more.

  And it was the way she gazed at the sex going on in front of her that made my cock hard. It had caught me by surprise. Her eyes were transfixed. She’d become intoxicated—eyes dilated, her teeth constantly capturing her lips. And when I pressed my cock against that soft ass, she didn’t rush away instantly, she lingered. So much that, when she finally decided to step away, I couldn’t deal with the space between us.

  My little mysh.

  I sat on my bed and checked my laptop on the night stand. Ivan had set up everything as I ordered, placing a continuous feed of the cameras in Emily’s apartment. Six boxes played on the screen. I pressed on the box where she’d moved in.

  The camera’s view largened to full screen.

  Like me, Emily was on her bed. Exhaustion covered her face.

  A queen bed stood on the other side of the room. Moonlight spilled into her bedroom from a large window.

  The room appeared tight and cramped.

  Ivan had delivered a pdf file of her blueprints. The two-bedroom apartment was less than a few thousand square feet. The other bedroom was bigger. For some reason, Emily had chosen the smallest space to sleep in.

  Why and why do I care?

  She lay on her side. The curve of her hip stuck up under a small blanket. I yearned to run my hands over that arc to her waist. Such a simple pose, yet I licked my lips and imagined me spooning her from behind and her thickness molded against my body.

  Sighing, she moved the blanket off her and sat up.

  Can’t go to sleep?

  I swore she frowned and glanced up at the ceiling, right at the camera.

  No. She doesn’t know I’m watching her.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, barely hiding those full breasts. The simple gesture made me horny.

  “Take the shirt off, mysh.”

  I bet her bra overflowed with those full breasts. If I’d been in the room, I would’ve had her undress. I’d cup those lush mounds, pinching and plucking her nipples. I grunted as I titty fucked her in my mind. That soft bosom cushioning my hard cock as I slipped the hungry length between them.

  Knocking my dirty thoughts away, she muttered to herself. “He started it.”

  Who started it, mysh?

  A little bit of annoyance hit me. She was a free woman. This man should’ve been none of my concern. Shaking my head, I tried to stop the
desire that rushed through me. Now was not the time to lose my head.

  Slowly, she took off her sneakers.

  What are you thinking about?

  She stood up and turned away from the camera. I had that feeling again that she might’ve known I was watching her.

  She probably does. She’s proven to be smart.

  I licked my lips as she raised her shirt and pulled it off. Next, she unsnapped her bra and placed it on the bed. Her bare back greeted my eyes.

  I touched the tips of my fingers to the computer screen, wishing I could trail them down Emily’s soft skin. It had to be silky. Dandelion soft. High end silk.

  A tree covered her entire back. I inched closer staring at the large tattoo. There was beauty in the lines. Three black birds flew over the branches right near the back of her right shoulder. The trunk grew along her spine. The roots dipped down into her jeans, and the branches spread out to the sides, and I craved to touch each one, tracing them with my finger.

  Why the tree, Emily?

  Tattoos were significant in my world. Especially when it came to the jail system. If an inmate had a dagger through the neck it meant that he’d murdered before and was available to be hired. A cross on the chest symbolized a loyalty to fellow thieves. Others wore the Madonna and Child to ward off evil.

  When Sasha had gone to prison, he’d made too many enemies. Men had held him down and tattooed eyes on his stomach. It was a common way among inmates to mark if a person was gay. When Sasha gained strength, those men died. Their brothers outside of prison living normal lives, they were killed too. And Sasha slit their throats and cut eyes on their chests.

  Tattoos meant a lot in my world.

  What does the tree mean to you, Emily?

  With her back still to me, she placed her hands on the top of her jeans. Impatiently, I waited for her to slip them down, needing to see something—anything of her. But she froze there for a few minutes as if thinking, if she should or shouldn’t.

  Yes. You know I’m watching. Don’t you?

  Instead of taking off her jeans, she hugged her breasts, hiding them with her arms.

  “Kakogo chyorta,” I muttered under my breath. “You could’ve shown me something, after the mess you got yourself into tonight.”

  Turning off her bedroom’s lights, she walked off to her bathroom, entered, and closed the door.

  Yet, that tattoo from her back remained in my head. She’d picked a tree and for some reason, I needed to know why. The damn image haunted me.

  An old memory hit my head.

  “A tattoo is not just body art.” Uncle Igor sat in front of Luka and I, holding his adapted electric shaver in his hand. On his chest was a double headed eagle, gripping a heavy cross in his talons. “A tattoo tells a story about the person wearing it. It is a tale of the soul. What do you want?”

  I showed him my arm. “A lion.”

  “And you Luka?” Uncle Igor pulled out needles from his draw and an ampoule of liquid dye.

  “A bear on the front of my chest.”

  “You two escaped a place that many haven’t. Everyone’s talking about it.” Uncle Luka twisted the adapted electric razor in his hand. “This will change your lives. Stay close to each other. Trust no one. Not even those that claim to be your blood.”

  I nodded.

  Uncle Igor pierced me with a haunted gaze. “Look to everything around you for a sign. You are guided by something more, Kazimir. There will always be enemies around you.”

  Uncle Igor turned on the razor to start my tattoo. “The ones that are special. The ones that seemed blessed. Hold on to them, but do not cage them. Angels are supposed to live in the sky.”

  When I’d come into power, Uncle Igor placed the traditional eight-pointed stars on my collarbones.

  What did a tree mean for her?

  On the screen, Emily’s shower sounded from the closed door.

  Sighing, I undressed, turned off the light, and climbed into bed.

  I had a capable, warm woman right in my room and I told her to leave. And instead of fucking someone, I’m staring at the damn computer, hoping my washer will show her tits. What the fuck am I doing?

  It had been a long flight and an even longer day. Emily was supposed to be the easiest part of the trip, but for some reason she’d aggravated me more than the brothel madam’s and Rumi’s deaths.

  Emily was supposed to stay where she was put. All signs pointed to that action being logical. Surely, she feared me. Instead, she risked a few moments of privacy.

  Where had she really gone? Should I have pushed her for more answers?

  I gritted my teeth. It was unlike me to second guess my actions, especially when it came to a woman. Had it been a man, I might’ve flung him off the roof. With her, I’d hesitated.

  It had been those damn eyes. Closed off, not telling me anything.

  I thought back to the tattoo again right as the sound of the shower turning off came from the laptop. My room was dark, except for the moonlight streaming in through my curtains and the light from the computer screen.

  I turned to my side and lay under the covers naked as I always did. But tonight was different. Usually, I didn’t lie in bed alone, and never did I stare at my laptop, hoping for one of my workers to show me more.

  She opened the door, a large towel wrapped around her.

  My cock jerked against my thigh.

  I’m probably going to fuck you, Emily.

  She stood in the doorway but didn’t gaze up to the camera.

  With her light off in the bedroom and only a dim glow coming from her bathroom, all I could make out was a sexy silhouette.

  Everything in me yearned to see more.

  And for the first time in years, I slipped my hand down to my cock and squeezed the tip. It had been a long time since I’d ever needed to stroke my own cock. Women waited patiently by the phone for me in many countries. Even now I could’ve ordered three or four from the brothel right above me.

  Yet, Emily stood in the doorway—a sexy silhouette in a towel—and I rubbed the long length of my cock, pushing my hips slowly forward.

  She didn’t move, nor take off the towel.

  You know I’m watching. You know I’m waiting. Is this my payback from the roof?

  In that moment, I craved to be between her thighs. I yearned to smell her pussy, wet and in front of me. I wanted to stick my fingers inside of her, pull them out, and lick her juices off.

  And all because she stood there in that doorway, hiding that sweet body in shadows.

  If you continue with this game, mysh, I’ll be bending you over at the nearest surface and fucking you.

  My cock twitched in my hand at the thought.

  Take off the towel.

  I gripped my cock hard as it painfully waited for pleasure, some sort of release.

  Unfortunately, she flipped the bathroom light off. Moonlit darkness covered the room.

  Ivan, you should have put in night cameras.

  I was close to murdering the man. The soft sound of footsteps rose. Then, the teasing noise of material moving. I had no idea if she was changing or not.

  Minutes later, she left her bedroom and went to the living room where Luka sat on the couch. She was fully clothed.

  I cursed under my breath, “`tchyo za ga`lima?”

  The rest of the night, she sat on her computer and I fell asleep with blue balls for the first time since my teen years.

  Now what are you doing, Emily?

  Act Two

  Definition of Dirty

  2: likely to cause disgrace or scandal

  dirty little secrets

  dirty little lies

  Chapter 9

  Kazimir

  The next morning, I rode in the back of the limo, heading toward Emily’s brownstone.

  Let’s see what she will look like today.

  Her strip tease on camera shoved me further into horniness. All night I pictured Emily down on her knees. For some reason, I craved to watch
her surrender, to give me pure submission, something she’d probably never given anyone.

  Fantasies played out in my head the rest of the night, disturbing my sleep—Emily on her knees, lips parted, taking my cock deep down her throat, begging for more even as she gagged, even as saliva dripped out the corners of her mouth, even as I came all over that beautiful face.

  Nasty. Dirty. Filthy thoughts.

  They plagued my head, had me stroking my cock all morning in the shower. Tugging the tip. Thinking of Emily as I got myself off.

  By the time I finally had release, there was one dominant thought in my mind.

  I won’t fuck her. Dangerous. She’s too fucking dangerous.

  I didn’t like the reaction she’d inspired in my body.

  And she could hide and change her appearance too fast.

  Too tricky.

  I’d heard of a woman having many looks, changing their hair and clothes, but Emily had transformed into another person from when I’d met her earlier. And it wasn’t just the wig and clothes. On the roof, I felt I’d met bits of the real her. She’d been exposed somehow. Maybe it was the sex. Or it could’ve been the change of clothes. She probably used the objects as masks for who she really was.

  So many goddamn questions she’s brought up, and none of the answers would deal with my oncoming war.

  Emily would just be the washer. An important position, but not enough for me to spend too much time over. Someone was killing my people, and it was all connected, but I didn’t know how.

  No more letting this one get to my cock. She’ll play her position and then I’ll move my focus to my enemies.

  I arrived at Emily’s place.

  She was already outside. Luka was on her right. The limo pulled up right in front of her.

  I stepped outside.

  And we gazed at the other.

  Silence stood between us.

  Her hair and style were completely different again. A curly afro surrounded her head in a big halo. Tiny candy curls and spirals outlined her face and fell to her shoulders in deep waves. Designer black glasses covered her eyes. Candy red lipstick decorated those delicious lips.