Living for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 4)

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Living for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 4) Page 9

by Hayley Faiman


  “You need to stand up for yourself. You need to show him who is in charge here,” Emiliya states.

  “How?” I ask.

  “I know that what you have with him is different than what we have with our men. But, Ashley, he doesn’t own you. You are the one in control now,” Emiliya says.

  “I’ll never be in control,” I whisper, trying to keep tears from forming.

  “But you are,” Haleigh says, taking my hand in hers. “You’re the one he has to win back. You’re the one he has to apologize to. And you’re the one who gets to decide if you take him back, or if you want to be with Mika.”

  “Mika,” I murmur.

  “Yeah, Mika, the man who has been taking you out on dates,” Tatyana points out.

  “What do I do?” I ask as my eyes move to each woman surrounding me at the table.

  “You don’t do anything,” Emiliya says. “You wait for my asshole brother to come to you. If you want to, you can hear him out, but you don’t do anything. You wait,” she says, tapping her nails.

  “Wait?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, Em. If he’s anything like Kirill, waiting won’t be an option,” Tatyana points out, chewing on her bottom lip.

  “Don’t do anything; let him come to you, and let his words, his eyes, and his actions be the driving force of your decision,” Haleigh suggests.

  “I’m so confused,” I admit. “All I’ve wanted was for him to come back here. Now, I’m not sure I want to see him again.”

  “Well, today we’re going to finish our day and do some shopping,” Tatyana announces as she stands.

  “This is why you did all of this today?” I ask as the thought dawns on me.

  “We… yes,” Emiliya admits with downcast eyes.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Thank you?” Tatyana asks, confusion laced in her features.

  “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done had I not known he was in town and he just showed up at my apartment. Now I can prepare.” I smile and shrug.

  “You’re welcome,” Haleigh grins as she takes my hand in hers. “Sometimes surprise attacks are necessary, but not this time.”

  I don’t understand what she means, but Emiliya must because she giggles and rolls her eyes. I’m glad that they have warned me about Yakov. I have time to prepare not only my words, but myself for his arrival.

  I don’t think that any amount of advance warning will be able to truly prepare me for seeing him again, but at least I can wrap my head around it and hopefully not fall to his feet the second I lay my eyes on him.

  Haleigh, Tatyana, Emiliya, and I spend the rest of the day shopping. It isn’t something I necessarily enjoy, but with these women, I find it a fun activity. I even buy a few dresses and skirts for work, and a few for evening. I don’t know if I’ll be going on anymore dates anytime soon, but I have a few new dresses and some new shoes just in case.

  “Don’t make any decisions based off of emotions or in haste,” Tatyana whispers as she takes my hand in hers and squeezes it outside of my apartment building.

  “I won’t,” I murmur.

  “We love you and we’re all here for you, no matter what you decide,” Emiliya says as she wraps her arms around me.

  “But you’re his sister,” I whisper against her.

  “I’m his sister, but I’m your friend. He fucked up, and that’s on him, not you or anybody else,” she says as she takes a step back. Her sharp gaze lands on me.

  I thank them all for their love and support before I go inside of my building and walk toward my apartment. I dig my keys out of my bag as I approach my door, looking down.

  My breath hitches when I lift my eyes.

  There he is.

  In the flesh.

  Yakov Chekov.

  My Jacob.

  WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW beautiful she is. Ashley is simply breathtaking. I watch while she juggles her shopping bags as she walks toward me, unaware that I am standing, leaning against her door, waiting for her.

  If I were dangerous, she would be completely clueless. She would be snatched and nobody would be any wiser. I hate that my mind automatically goes there, but it does, and it always will. The men of my world are dangerous, and sometimes that danger leaks to our women. That can’t be helped.

  I watch as her head lifts and her eyes connect with mine. I can hear her breath hitch, even though there are several feet that separate us. Her light brown eyes meet mine and my heart melts at the same time my cock goes rock solid against the zipper of my pants.

  “Jacob,” she whispers.

  I close my eyes. I savor her voice and the way my nickname sounds on her lips. It’s been far too long since I’ve heard it, and my dreams do not do reality justice.

  Fuck, I missed my sweet Ashley.

  “Ashley,” I rumble.

  “We’ll talk inside,” she says.

  Her voice is soft but there’s an edge to it that I’m not used to from her. It doesn’t turn me off like I thought it might. In fact, I want to see what else she has hiding behind her pretty brown eyes.

  I watch as she fumbles with the door. Her hand is shaking and she keeps missing the lock. I wrap my hand around hers and guide the key into the lock and help her turn it. Then I repeat the motion on her deadbolt. I can’t stop myself from inhaling her hair, and then I groan at how absolutely delectable she smells.

  My sweet, sweet Ashley.

  I follow her inside of her apartment, and lock the door behind me before I take her bags from her hands and place them on the floor. She spins around and I take a step back at the anger on her face and the tears swimming in her eyes.

  I should have known she’d be angry with me. She should be angry with me, but I have never seen her angry in all of the time that I’ve known her.

  My Ashley is sweet, timid, scared, and extremely obedient. Just the way I’ve always wanted her to be—before now. Now, she’s not only my beautiful, sweet Ashley, she’s also completely and totally stunning, leaving me breathless.

  “I hate you,” she whispers as she balls her little fists up at her sides.

  I nod. Unsure of what to say, but knowing that she has so much more she needs to get out.

  “I hate you so much,” she repeats as her shoulders start to shake and then tears fall from her eyes.

  I don’t hesitate. I take the few steps to close the distance between us and then I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. I inhale her hair again, because I can’t help myself, and I let her cry. I feel her hands grip the sides of my shirt, and then she lifts her head and tips it back so that she can look into my eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

  “I need more,” she says.

  “You deserve so much more,” I agree.

  She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her. I press my mouth to hers and I delve my tongue inside of her. She tastes like sweet liquor, and I can’t contain my moan.

  My hands travel to her ass and I squeeze her over her sexy as shit skirt. When her hands travel up my chest and wrap around my neck, I know that I have her where I want her.

  I should back off. I shouldn’t sway her with sex, but I’m not a good man. I don’t play by the rules, and I’ve spent six months away from the only woman I’ve craved. Now she’s melting in my arms and pressing her tits against my body. Even the strongest man on earth couldn’t turn her away.

  I release her mouth but continue to kiss down her jaw, then along the column of her neck to the top of her chest. Not much of her skin is showing, but it tastes so delectable. My hands start to travel down to the hem of her skirt and I slide my hands underneath it, lifting it as I roam up her thighs. I moan when her nylons are revealed to be thigh highs.

  Thigh highs.

  My weakness.

  “I need to see,” I murmur against her throat.

  “Unzip my skirt,” she breathes.

  I do as she commands and unzip her skirt, pushing it down her hips and letting
it fall to the floor before I take half a step back and admire her. I watch as she slowly peels her blouse off. My eyes widen and my heart rate picks up at the sight of her. She’s in black thigh highs with a lace top, black sheer panties, and a black sheer bra.

  “You are so stunning,” I murmur as I take her in.

  Her body is fuller than it had been when I left her. It sends my need for her into overdrive.

  “I lost weight, then I gained it back, plus some,” she mutters as her eyes automatically drop to the floor.

  “Don’t,” I plead. Her head shoots up and she looks at me with confusion. “Don’t give that to me, don’t submit to me. I don’t deserve that from you.”

  “Jacob,” she whispers with tears shining in her eyes again. I close my eyes for a moment, relishing in the way she says my name.

  “I don’t deserve that, either,” I admit.

  Without another word, she closes the distance between us and wraps her arms around my neck before she places a gentle kiss on my lips. I wrap my hands around the backs of her thighs and pick her up, then I carry her to the bedroom. I remember exactly where it is; its location is burned in my brain. The words I said to her are seared there, too.

  I slowly lay her down on the bed and cover her tiny body with my own. Though she’s gained a little weight, she’s still so small. I prop an elbow up beside her head and then gently move her bangs out of her face with my fingertips so that I can see all of her.

  “These are new,” I murmur.

  “They are. I needed a change,” she says, chewing on her lip.

  “I like them very much. They make you look more mature,” I admit as my fingertips trail down to her chest where I lightly graze the top of her breast. “I want you very much,” I confess.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits on a whisper.

  “Me either.”

  My heart is beating in my chest so hard, I’m sure that Yakov can hear it. His cool blue eyes are full of emotion, and it’s not something I’ve ever seen from him before. I’ve seen white hot, burning anger radiate from his eyes before, but never this warmth that he’s looking at me with right now.

  In fact, the moment his eyes caught mine in the hallway, they melted and softened in a way that had my heart pounding.

  I want him so badly, just as he’s told me that he wants me, but I don’t know if that’s the right thing. If I yield to him, if I accept him back in my bed, I don’t know that we’ll have solved anything. With his big, warm, body pressed against mine, I can’t think. My body wants him. It remembers exactly how good he can make me feel, how he owns me.

  “I do know that whatever we do, it won’t be anything but vanilla for a while,” he mutters. He scowls slightly at his own words, as if he ate something that tasted badly.

  “Vanilla?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “Well, as vanilla as I can be. I’ve not been good to you. I’ve been self-centered and not treated you at all the way you deserve to be treated,” he says as his thumb slides over my nipple. I exhale a shaky breath at the sensation that sends throughout my body.

  “I want to be so angry with you,” I say.

  “You should be,” he nods as his fingers gently slide down my body.

  My eyes flutter closed when one of his fingers slips beneath the elastic of my panties and starts to slide back and forth against my skin.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I whisper.

  “I was stupid,” he grunts. “Sweet Ashley.”

  “Will you touch me?” I ask as my cheeks turn pink in embarrassment.

  “Always,” he whispers as his hand dips further beneath my panties and his mouth covers mine.

  I whimper when his fingers slide between my wet folds. He moans into my mouth as one of his fingers slides inside of me. I dig my nails into his shoulders as I gently lift my hips, searching for more. He pulls his finger out and replaces it with two fingers, then his thumb presses against my clit and I sigh as I let my head fall back against the pillow.

  “Are you going to come for me, pchelka?” he asks, calling me his little bee, his honey. I love it. No, I adore it.

  “Yes,” I hiss as his fingers curl inside of me.

  It doesn’t take much because it’s been so long. I hold onto him tighter as my body stiffens and I shatter in his arms. He doesn’t stop touching me until my body relaxes, and then he pulls his fingers out of my panties before he puts them in his mouth. I blush at his actions, but his blue eyes twinkle and he grins.

  “Still the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmurs before his lips brush against mine.

  I open my mouth to speak, but there’s a loud knock on my door. My eyes widen in surprise. I have a feeling I know who could be there, but I don’t get the chance to warn Yakov before he has rolled off of the bed, stomping toward the door. As quickly as I can, I find my satin robe and wrap it around my body, just in time to see Mika and Yakov nose-to-nose in my entryway.

  “Mika?” I ask. His eye’s shift and land on me, then I watch as they burn with rage—pure rage.

  “So this is it, then? He walks in here and you just spread for him?” Mika shouts. I take a step back as though his words have actually, physically assaulted me.

  “You talk to her like that, and I’ll put you down like a fucking animal,” Yakov growls. My eyes shift from the back of Yakov’s mussed, black hair, to Mika’s angry eyes.

  “I should have known. Once his slave, always his slave, right? Think he’ll keep you in the basement this go around, Ashley?” he growls.

  Yakov doesn’t allow him to say anything else. Instead, he punches him in the jaw. Mika stumbles back a few steps and then starts to charge Yakov, but then stops and shakes his head.

  “Fighting with you isn’t worth it. You’re a Pakhan and it would just ruin my career. You can have her,” he grunts and then turns and walks away.

  I can’t stop my lip from trembling. Mika was so kind to me; he took me out and told me how beautiful I was. He told me I was worth more than being hidden away, and he made me feel strong and able. I’ve just hurt him, and I can’t help but feel like a terrible person for it.

  “Ashley,” Yakov sighs as he closes the door and turns to me.

  “I can’t with you right now,” I whisper.

  “Okay,” he states with a nod.

  “You need to leave,” I say, my voice trembling with each word.

  “No, I don’t think that I will,” he says slowly.

  I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head and then his soft blue gaze lands on me. The gentleness I see takes my breath away.

  “I’m never leaving you again, pchelka—sad, angry, happy, or deliriously happy, I’ll be right next to you. Never again will I walk away from you; neither do I plan on sleeping alone. So, no, I don’t think that I’ll be leaving,” he shrugs.

  “I need space,” I demand weakly.

  “Not from me, you don’t. You’ve have enough fucking space. We won’t do anything but sleep tonight, but I’m not going anywhere. If you ask me to leave, if you really want me to go, then I don’t know that I’ll ever come back.”

  “That’s not fair,” I whisper.

  “I’ve never been a fair man. A fair man would have taken one look at you the day I met you and took you for medical treatment. He wouldn’t have held you and taken you on as his own. A fair man wouldn’t have done half of the shit I’ve done, Ashley. I’m not fair,” he says.

  I shake my head, because he’s right and he’s crazy, and I can’t help but love the man, even though I’m angry as hell.

  “I need to think. I need to figure this all out,” I say.

  “You can figure it out when you’re wrapped in my arms in bed,” he grunts.

  Defeated, I sigh. He offers his hand and I take it. I don’t protest when he strips the robe from me, then divests me of my lingerie as well. I watch as he strips his own body completely before climbing into bed. Then he waits for me with an arched brow.

&nb
sp; “We should be sleeping separately,” I mumble.

  “Never,” he growls as he wraps his arms around me from behind.

  “I don’t know what tomorrow holds for us,” I whisper into the dark room.

  “Nobody does,” he murmurs against my shoulder before placing a gentle kiss there.

  I fall asleep wrapped in the arms of the man that I love. I do this thinking that for the past six months, this is all that I have wanted. Now that he’s here, I’m not one hundred percent sure I want it anymore. My feelings for him are still of love, but I’m so angry and hurt and betrayed by him.

  I don’t know if those feelings will ever go away.

  I don’t know if love can trump them, or if we weren’t ever truly meant to be.

  ASHLEY SLEEPS. PEACEFULLY. I can’t remember the last time she didn’t cry out, or at least whimper in her sleep. I wonder if some of her nightmares were caused by me? Did the things I do to her keep her from sleeping this soundly when she was completely mine?

  I don’t sleep at all. I don’t want to miss one single second with her in my arms. I’m not completely confident that I’ll be here again with her.

  I groan when she shifts and then turns over in my arms.

  “You’re awake?” she mutters sleepily.

  “I am.”

  “What happens now?” she asks as her hand slides up my arm, chest and then rests on the side of my neck.

  “I can honestly say that I don’t know. I can tell you what I want, but I think you know what that is already,” I murmur as my eyes roam over her sleepy face. “What do you want?”

  I watch as her eyes widen and her mouth opens, forming an O shape that begs for my cock. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep myself in check.

  I don’t stop my hand from running down her waist, to her ass, and then back up. Her body trembles beneath my fingers, and I want nothing more than to physically claim her. I won’t, but the desire is so strong, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to restrain myself, especially after the taste of her I had last night.

  “To be happy,” she whispers.

  I bring my hand to her face and cup her cheek, brushing her lips with my thumb.

 

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