Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman)

by Nicole Fox

  Lucy laces her fingers through mine as we walk. This has become a morning routine for us. She likes to just walk around with me. For so long after Konstantin, we lived in hiding. No one could find out who we were. No one could know the truth about us.

  That’s why she suggested we come up with new identities. Roman and Lucy had to disappear, and two other people had to take their places. Chris doesn’t suit me, I don’t think, but Lucy says it’s a fine name. Unassuming. I have to agree with her there.

  Daisy suits her, I think.

  She’s bright like the flower, and it’s close enough to her actual name that she doesn’t completely ignore it whenever I call out for her when we’re in public.

  These past few months have felt like a dream I don’t deserve living.

  The move from New York to the other side of the country was easier than I thought it would be. Lucy told me she had Nana and everything else was expendable. She didn’t need anything from home. I made a few calls, withdrew a large amount of cash, and we disappeared. Just like that.

  I don’t know if we’ll ever go back. I don’t know if I even want to. New York was good for business, but Lucy’s pressuring me to hang it up. She keeps reminding me of what I told her in the safe house. How I wanted to protect people instead of kill them. How I should focus on doing more of that.

  I give her the answers she wants, but the truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to that. I can’t say for certain. I know about killing. I’ve spent my entire life doing it, even from a young age. I know more about that than anything else in my life. And there might always be that pull. It’s guaranteed money, and I’m good at it.

  So far, I’ve kept my word to her. If I wanted, I’m sure I could make a few calls and find a client here in California. Only, I don’t really want to.

  I like things how they are now.

  Lucy drops her head on my shoulder, and I come back down to earth. I look at her, run my fingers down the two braids she wears on either side of her head. She’s tanned since we moved, and her freckles are even darker.

  She’s the perfect distraction.

  Without her, I’d spend every second preparing for Konstantin’s men to come. I know they’re out there. Most of them were busted when the police found evidence of his crimes, but I’m sure there are people on his payroll that managed to avoid getting caught. The roaches of organized crime. Maybe one day they’ll come for us. That’s why I have to stay ready.

  But when Lucy squeezes my hand and makes me remember that I should be enjoying time with her, I drop my guard just a little.

  “Have you heard back from any agents?” I ask.

  “Nothing serious, yet. I did have one agent tell me I should revise some parts of the book and send it back to her when it’s complete.”

  “Are her revisions good?”

  Lucy shrugs. “They’re all right. I don’t think they’re necessary, but if I get a lot of agents saying that I need to work on that aspect, I’ll reconsider. It’s just getting so tiring. No one ever told me it would take this long. That writing the damn book was the easy part.”

  I smile at her frustration and drape my arm around her thin shoulder. “I believe in you. It’s gonna take time, though.”

  She sighs. “I know. I’m just impatient. You know how I get.”

  Our trip through the city leads us back to the house, and I’m almost disappointed it doesn’t last longer. Today’s a beautiful day, one we wouldn’t ever get back in New York. We should be out soaking up the light.

  Lucy has work to do, and I need to start looking for a job.

  We’ve been living off the money I have in my account, which is plenty, but I don’t like the idea of sitting around the house all day. I need to do something. I need to be productive or I’ll lose my fucking mind.

  Lucy stops by Nana’s room to check in on her when we get home. It’s like looking at a completely different woman. The therapist and doctors we’ve hired have made a big improvement on her. Just last week, she was able to go shopping at the grocery store by herself. In New York, that was something Lucy had to do.

  “You both worry too much about me,” she says, passing us and heading into her bedroom. With the whole left wing of the house to herself, she’s made this place like a home of her own.

  “Where are you going?” Lucy asks.

  “Me and some of my girlfriends are going to the Olive Garden for lunch and our book club meeting.” She pulls her coat on and reaches for the romance novel on the table. It looks like something from the eighties, a man lounging on a bed with a busty redhead in his arms. I crack a smile. My mom read books like that when I was a kid.

  “Don’t stay out too late, okay?” Lucy says.

  Nana gives her a look. “Girl, don’t you go bossing me around. I’ll stay out as late as I’d like.”

  “You tell her,” I smirk.

  Lucy’s eyes go wide and she looks between us. “Wow, so now you’re both ganging up on me? I see how it is.”

  Nana leans forward and kisses her on the cheek, giving her a quick hug. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Once she’s gone, Lucy turns to me. “So, I’m pretty hungry... Think I could seduce you into making me some breakfast?”

  I suppress a smile. “Depends on what you’re offering, miss.”

  She looks down shyly as one of her hands rises to the buttons on her flannel. “Well,” she demurs, sliding the button free. A flash of skin, tan and creamy and smooth, appears where the fabric parts. “Maybe this will get me some coffee?”

  I nod, slowly. I can feel my stiffness in my pants, starting to strain against the fabric. “Just coffee?”

  She pushes another button loose. Now, I can see the gentle swell of her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra. I want to run my tongue over them, trace kisses down the flat expanse of her belly to the edge of her denim shorts. To explore everything below and between. “How about this?” she asks, her eyes darting up to meet mine for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her face.

  “I could maybe do some eggs, for that.”

  She wrinkles her brow as if she’s deep in thought. “I am very hungry, though, sir. I don’t think just eggs will be enough.” With that, she undoes the last button of her shirt and slides it off of her shoulders. It falls to her feet in a soft puddle, but my eyes are fixated on the curve of her shoulders to her breasts to her hips. Her body is screaming for my touch, but I force myself to stand still, leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, hands trapped in my pocket.

  I feel that familiar heat, that familiar hunger, that hasn’t changed since the first time I saw Lucy. Since the night in the motel when I pinned her beneath me and wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my entire life.

  But I make myself play out this game a little farther.

  “Well, bacon seems reasonable, now,” I add in a husky voice.

  Lucy bites her bottom lip, and my cock jumps at my zipper. It wants out. It wants her.

  Her hands slip down her belly and she hooks her thumbs in her jean shorts. She tugs down a little, revealing the frilly edge of a pair of pink panties. My breath catches in my throat, but I don’t let her see the war erupting inside of me. My face is calm and smooth.

  “Pancakes are going to cost you, ma’am.”

  “Oh?” she whispers. “This much?” She undoes the button of her shorts.

  I shake my head. “A little more.”

  “This much?” she repeats. She pulls the zipper down. I can see the upper rim of a damp patch in her panties. She’s soaked through. She is fighting the same battle in her head that I am – temptation versus teasing – and I see that she’s on the verge of losing, just like me.

  My stomach is churning with need – for Lucy, for her warmth, for her touch. Almost there, almost there.

  “Just a bit more.”

  She wriggles her hips and pushes the jeans down the tan length of her legs, stepping out of them towards me, one foot stepping delicatel
y in front of the other. She has only the panties on now, and I let my eyes rove up and down her body. This is my woman, my love. The light of my world. The flower of my life.

  And I am dying with the urgent need to fuck her senseless.

  “Very close to complete,” I say. “But the price for syrup just went up.”

  She smiles again. I’m squeezing the marble countertop behind me, white-knuckling it, and I’m half-afraid it is going to snap off in my hands. Lucy closes the last few feet between us with slow, careful steps, eyes locked on mine the whole time, until she’s inches away from me, looking up into my gaze. I watch her soft lips move as she whispers, “I hope this can cover the difference.”

  She brushes her mouth against mine. It’s a soft, chaste kiss at first.

  But that is all it takes to push me over the edge.

  I push my tongue past her lips, opening our jaws up wide to mingle our lips and our heat together. With one hand, I yank her into my embrace, so our chests are flush together. With the other, I scoop her up and wrap her legs around me. She hooks her ankles behind the small of my back as I spin around and set her on the countertop.

  She gasps and giggles at the cold sensation on her bare skin. I lace my fingers through the roots of her hair and pull back softly, exposing her throat to my nipping kisses. I bite and suck easily down to her collarbone while my fingers play with the edge of her panties where they meet her inner thighs. She squirms towards and away from my touch, not sure if she’s ready yet for it, teasing me to go farther, challenging me.

  I put my lips to her nipple and draw in. She gasps again, putting her hands on the back of my head and hugging me to her.

  “Roman...” she hushes.

  I smile and push her back. She obliges, falling backwards until she’s laying on top of the counter. I reach across her, pluck the biggest chef’s knife from the wooden block that houses them, and lay the cold flat of the blade against her thigh. She freezes.

  “You better not!” she warns.

  “Oh? Are you telling me what to do, princess?”

  “I’m telling you, Roman, if you...”

  I grin as I slip the blade under the thinnest part of her panties and slice outward. The fabric falls away from her hip. I pull the rest of it away, leaving her completely naked before me. Exactly how I want her. Exactly how I always want her.

  “You bastard!” she shrieks playfully. “These were my favorite.”

  “You should’ve known better than to tell a hitman not to use a knife.”

  She kicks me in the side. I just laugh and pin her ankle against me as I lean forward and press my mouth against her hot center. The words fall dead in her mouth as I start to lick slowly and delicately. I build pressure, circling the tip of my tongue around her clit, darting in and out of her. I can feel her body around me, tensing and relaxing in waves, while little whimpers of pleasure slip out from between her lips.

  “You, you...” But nothing she says makes sense anymore as I add my fingers to the mix, pushing into her slowly but firmly. Her walls contract around my touch. I speed up the lashes of my tongue.

  Outside, cicadas chirp and the sun is beaming, but in here, all that matters is the growing rod in my pants and the warmth emanating from Lucy as I lick her into a thrashing, screaming orgasm. She bucks in my grasp as it takes her. Her fingers claw into my upper arm, holding on for dear life. I press the heel of my hand against her center and let her ride the wave against it. It is a long minute before she comes down. When she does, she leans up and looks at me.

  Her hair is a wild mess, and her eyes shine through the loose bangs that have fallen over her face. They’re bright and thirsty. She bites her lips. “Is breakfast over?” she asks, teasing.

  “Just getting started,” I assure her.

  I unbutton and unzip my pants. At long last, my cock springs free. I’ve made myself wait for what feels like a fucking eternity. Now, it’s time.

  I pull Lucy towards me and push her thighs apart as I line myself up with her entrance. She grinds against my tip for a minute before shooting up onto her elbows.

  Fixing me with a fiery stare, she says, “Wait a minute there, mister. I want my eggs scrambled, not fertilized.”

  I laugh out loud. I’ve been doing a lot more of that lately than I ever used to. It feels incredible. “I think this will be a good meal for both of us, this way,” I say cautiously.

  Lucy tilts her head and bites her lip. “Are you sure?”

  I know what she’s asking. Am I sure that I want to be with her? Am I sure that this is the life for me? Am I sure that I can leave all my demons behind? Am I sure that we can have a future – a happy one – one that a child would be blessed to be born into, not cursed like she and I were?

  The first, uglier part of the truth is that I’m not sure. They are impossible questions. We’ll never have certain answers. It’d be a lie, and a disgraceful one, to pretend that I knew for sure how to say yes to all of those questions.

  But the second, more beautiful part is that I want to find out. I want it as bad as I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to find out – with Lucy by my side. My teammate, my woman, my partner in crime. The only one I want with me. Now, and forever.

  So I hesitate for just a brief second before nodding. “I am sure.”

  Lucy’s face splits into a sunbeam smile. I pull her face up towards mine so I can kiss my woman as I slide my length deep into her.

  I keep her pinned close to me with my hands on her thighs as our tongues thrash and our hips rock together. It’s slow, gentle strokes at first, just exploring each other, accommodating each other. The sensation of hot, wet, tight heat on my cock is nearly enough to make me come right away, but I force myself to savor the moment instead.

  Lucy’s mouth finds my ear. Her breath rattles seductively as I start to slip in and out of her faster. When our hips meet now, there is a fleshy slap that echoes in the kitchen, the hard, whimpering thrust of lover meeting lover.

  Her ankles tighten behind me. Her hands dig into my skin. Her teeth lock down on my earlobe, enough to draw a growl of half-pain and half-pleasure from me as I speed up again.

  I’m going as fast as I can now, fucking into her with all the force I can muster. I hear her begging for more, more, as I push deep into her. She squeezes around my length and holds onto me like she’s riding out a storm.

  “I’m almost there, Roman,” she pants. I am, too, coasting right on the edge of unleashing.

  Three, two, one more thrust, and then I can’t hold it anymore, and neither can she, and we both go tumbling down over the edge of our orgasms. I let loose inside of her. She lets loose around me. Neither one of us lets go.

  The tremors coursing through each of us take a long time to recede. When we’ve finally relaxed, I slide myself out of her with a regretful wince. I put my fingers under her chin, tilting her gaze up to meet mine, then plant a kiss on her. “Breakfast is served,” I say softly.

  She laughs. “You aren’t getting out of it that easily, buster. I want real breakfast.” She nips another soft kiss before hopping down and sashaying towards the bathroom to clean herself up. As she disappears down the hallway, I hear her call out over her shoulder.

  “Oh – and wipe that counter off, first!”

  I can only laugh.

  ***

  One thing I wanted in this new house was a big kitchen. The little one from my safe house back home wasn’t good enough. This one is practically the size of the master bedroom, which is big on its own. Freshly showered and dressed only in my shirt with nothing underneath, Lucy takes a seat at the table and opens her laptop, typing away while I cook. Like always, I find myself singing, only Lucy doesn’t laugh at me this time. She sings too. Much better than I can.

  I make pancakes, something easy that I know she’ll love. Half the batch of batter is for regular ones, and the other half is for blueberry pancakes. While I wait for one side to cook, I think back to mornings with my parents.

  Mom would
always cook breakfast for me, Ivan, and Gedeon. She sang in Russian, but those songs are now just distant memories. I remember helping her clean up after we ate. My brothers ran off to go play with their toys, but I stayed back to help. She would turn to me, cup my face between her hands, and tell me that she appreciated all my help. Then she’d kiss me on the nose and tell me to go play. She had it under control.

  The memory is heavy, and normally, I’d think of something else. Today is different. I want to think about those times. Times when I was happy. Before all the shit with my uncles. Before I lost them all. Being with Lucy brings that same kind of happiness in a way that I never thought a woman could.

  When I serve her, she closes her computer and perks up, blue eyes growing big. “This looks delicious!” she exclaims. She doesn’t wait for me, either. She dives in, practically scarfing it all down.

  “Slow down before you choke,” I warn, laughing at her enthusiasm.

  “I’m ravenous,” she says, her mouth full. “Someone made me work extra hard for my breakfast this morning.”

  ***

  Three Months Later

  “Roman,” Lucy says, tapping me on the shoulder. It’s early morning. I can see the sun peeking through the slats in the blinds. I’d be asleep, half-mired in a dream that made no sense in the light of day.

  “Mm?” I grunt.

  “Wake up, I need to tell you something.”

  I bolt up and immediately reach for the gun I keep tucked behind my nightstand.

  “No, no, no!” she laughs, pushing me in the chest back down to the bed. “It’s nothing like that; relax.” She sees the gun in my hand and frowns. “And we’ll need to talk about that later, mister. You told me you kept all the weapons in the gun safe.”

  “It’s – uh,” I babble. I’m still half-asleep. “Nevermind. What do you have to tell me?” I lay back down and let the adrenaline in my veins recede.

  “I don’t want you to get mad or anything, so I’ve been putting it off.” She’s nervous, chewing on her fingernails and twirling her hair over and over again. She won’t look me in the eye, either.