SINNERS: A Russian Mafia/Sports Romance (Saints & Sinners Duet Book 2)

by Sophia Henry

  As I walk through the house, pride fills me knowing I played a tiny role in helping him create this space. It’s not huge, but with two bedrooms and two bathrooms and a big beautiful kitchen dining space, it’s nicer than any apartment he ever had back home. Plus, it’s only a few blocks away from his shop.

  Stasya grabs her overnight bag and heads to the guest bathroom immediately. After ten minutes, she returns clean-faced, dressed in a black tank top and matching shorts. They’re too short to be parading around a man’s house, but I’m relieved it’s not the silky, white nightgown she usually wears to bed.

  Maybe she doesn’t wear those anymore.

  Slava grabs a bottle of vodka and slams it down. “Sit,” he commands, dropping into a chair at his dining room table.

  Stasya and I look at each other, then at him. Neither one of us is used to him giving us orders. Even though we know Slava doesn’t pussyfoot around, we’re both a bit shocked.

  Without another word, we join him at the table. Stasya folds one leg under her and props her other foot up on the seat of her chair, baring her uncovered legs.

  Jealousy and lust fog my head. “Put your leg down,” I bark.

  “I’m sorry, is my comfort distracting you?” she feigns apology.

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck off, Kirya.”

  Slava’s silence doesn’t bode well for us. He’ll only put up with our bickering for so long before he erupts.

  He takes a swig before passing me the bottle. “You two have one night to get everything out in the open. You will not go back to New York treating each other like this. If it’s over, end it.”

  After taking a long sip, I hand the vodka to Stasya.

  “What do you want from me?” she asks

  “I’m just offering you a drink.” I shrug.

  She yanks the bottle out of my hand, sipping quickly before passing it to Slava. “I mean out of life,” she clarifies. “You tell me we can’t be together, but you won’t leave me alone. I can’t live like this, Kirya. I love you too much for these stupid games.”

  “Being an inch away from death changes a man. I have no space in my life for a partner.”

  She swallows hard but lifts her chin. “Then I’ll be your whore.”

  I grab her arms and squeeze them. “You are not a whore. Not mine, not anyone’s.”

  She doesn’t back down. Swallowing the fear—or is it excitement? Her gaze never waivers. “If you think I can find out you are alive and leave you alone, you are a stupid man.”

  “It’s not your choice.”

  It may not seem like it, but I’ve suffered over the last three years. It wasn’t easy to push her away. Nothing killed me more than making the decision to send her into the arms of the man she lost her virginity to. But it was necessary. He was familiar, someone she could trust given the right amount of time. Stasya had to realize she could move on—love someone else.

  She should have been with Morozov from the start. She should have chosen him. If I hadn’t intervened during that New Year’s Eve party she would have been by his side from the beginning.

  It’s not a problem to put a common whore in the line of fire for being with me, but I could never put the woman I love in that position. I made that mistake and it almost cost me her life.

  No matter how many men I have around her. No matter how much intelligence I have giving me information about Sobakin’s tactics. No matter how much protection—I wouldn’t be able to save her.

  As much as it hurts, I have to convince her to leave me alone.

  “I own you, Stasya. Do you remember?”

  “You own my heart and my soul. You don’t own my mind and my choices.”

  Slava raises an eyebrow and chugs. Then he gets up and retrieves another vodka bottle out of the cupboard above the sink. He must think we’re in for a long night since the one we’re sharing is still more than half full.

  We both watch as he unscrews the cap and places the bottle in between Stasya and I. Then he leaves us, sipping from the original bottle as he walks away.

  “Is Morozov that bad?” I ask. Why does she want me? Why does she want a dangerous life of crime over safety and security with him?

  “No, he’s a good man.”

  “Then why do you want me? I’m not.”

  “You are a good man. The best man I’ve ever known. “

  “You’re blind.” I grab the vodka and take a long slug. “You went from an abusive father to someone you thought saved you. I didn’t save you—I put you in more danger than you ever would have been on your own. You don’t need anyone to save you anymore.”

  “You’re right, Kirya! I don’t need anyone to save me. I just need you.”

  “If you want my cock that badly, let’s go.” I point to Slava’s guest room. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. But I have nothing else to give you, Stasya.”

  She leans toward me and my cock swells. “You can be as crude and cold as you want. I won’t stop.”

  “You must!”

  “Why?”

  “Because everything has changed! I’m not the man I was. I don’t have the freedom to do what I want anymore. I am the head of North American operations.”

  Her face pales and she freezes in place. “What happened to getting out of organized crime?”

  I laugh, but there’s no humor. “Ask my dead uncle.”

  “What happened to the sports agent business?”

  “I still have it. But it’s not my top priority anymore.”

  “It can be!” she pleads. “There are hundreds of men who would kill—literally kill—for your position. Let them have it.”

  As soon as she says it, she closes her eyes and covers her face with her hands.

  We both know I won’t give up the position—the power. I was never meant to be a sports agent or a restaurant owner. I was meant to be a leader.

  “I make no promises, Stasya. If you chose to be with me, this all I can offer.” I drop to my knees in front of her and look up into her eyes. I chose this position to show her she has power over me.

  “You said it yourself—there’s nothing you can do to keep me safe. If I want to be at your side, understanding those consequences, you should let me.” She unravels her legs and lowers them to the floor, one on each side of me. Sitting between her silky thighs, with my face so close to her pussy brings my cock to life. But we’re here to talk—not fuck. “I don’t want to live without you. I did it for three years and every day every bone in my body ached. Tears were a memory away. I can’t go through that again.”

  “That’s the thing! I can’t guarantee you won’t go through it again,” I tell her, being as honest as I’ve ever been.

  “As soon as people find out I’m in New York to take over my uncle’s position, I could be killed at any moment.”

  “You know how they killed him, yes?”

  She nods and reaches out to caress my face. The story was all over the papers here. Everyone heard about how the leader of Russian organized crime in America was assassinated outside his condo. My mother’s death was a casualty of the life he led. She was a good person. An innocent person. But her ties to him caused her death.

  He stuck to the vory code to avoid putting someone he loved in danger. You can’t help it if they target family, but when you love an innocent person, and you bring them into your life, you’re setting them up for death.

  “I know it as wrong to let you think I was dead. I know how much it hurt you. But it was the only thing I could think of to get you away from me, my love.”

  “I know, Kirya.” She glances at the bottle on the table. “We don’t need this do we?”

  Shaking my head, I rise to my feet and take her hands, pulling her up. Then I lead her to the spare bedroom she’ll be sleeping in tonight. My intention was to be on the couch.

  Actually, that’s complete bullshit. Fucking her until she couldn’t see straight and holding her in my arms all night was my intention from the beginning.

>   Stasya sits on the bed as I close the door behind us.

  “I love you. I always have and I always will. But I should have stayed away.” I rub my face with both hands, scrubbing off the man she loves and putting on my mafia mask. “We can’t be seen together, Stasya. Don’t you understand? It puts us in too much danger. You’ve seen how horrible it can be with your own eyes.”

  I went to New York for a specific purpose—to take over my uncle’s position after he was assassinated. I fucked up when I let her see me. Because now she thinks we’re going to be together, and I won’t bring her into that life again.

  Though, I can’t lie. After all the mistakes I’ve made, being with her has been the confidence boost I needed to make me feel like I can conquer anything.

  And I’m going to need that confidence when I come back from the dead to the criminal world.

  “Kirya!” she yells.

  Her commanding tone makes my head–and cock—snap to attention. Stasya rarely raises her voice. Screams in the midst of passion—yes—but not yelling fueled by anger and frustration.

  “I. Don’t. Care. I thought I made that clear a million times.” She’s the only one who can talk to me like this without getting pistol-whipped. It’s fucking hot when she turns the tables.

  Still, I need to drive her away. And if her life being in danger isn’t enough to put her off, then I have to try a different approach.

  The time for being hard is over. It’s time she sees the insecurity in my head and heart.

  “You don’t care because if I die you get to go back to Morozov and get married and have babies and everything is fine for you,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “How can you say that?”

  “How can I say that?” I ask, rushing to the bed, closing the distance between us. “Because it already happened. When you thought I was dead you went on with your life. You got engaged to him.”

  Her chest puffs and she rises to her knees. Our eyes are almost at the same level. “You set us up!”

  “I sent you to him to keep you safe for a few months until things blew over. I never thought you would stay with him. I never thought you would agree to marry him.”

  She looks like I slapped her across the face. Maybe I should—show her my true colors. Being with me is pain. I hurt the things I love.

  But I would never raise my hand to her in anger. Especially when we both know physical violence wouldn’t necessarily make her leave.

  “I thought you were dead!” With blazing eyes, she clenches her fists at her side.

  I want her to hit me. I want her to take all of her anger and guilt and resentment out on me. I deserve every blow because I caused it all.

  If I would have left her alone from the beginning neither one of us would be in this position.

  “If it wasn’t Morozov, it would have been someone else.”

  “You’re angry with me because I moved on when I thought you were dead? You’re angry that I kept living life? Would you rather I killed myself?” Her voice wavers with emotion. “Because I almost did, Kirya. I thought about it too many times to count.”

  “Jesus,” I whisper, lowering my head.

  It’s not what I want. I’d never want her to extinguish her beautiful flame. Guilt has eaten away at my heart. There’s nothing but bitterness and pain left. It’s all I have to share with her.

  “I fucked up. I let my selfish heart dictate my actions, and it ruined your life. I ruined your life.”

  I drop my head in defeat.

  Admitting the truth is too much to bear. My uncle tried to warn me. He understood there was no room for love in the life we live. People like us will kill the things we love.

  It was arrogant to think I would be different—to think I could keep her safe if I kept her close. All that did was make her a target. When that backfired, I thought I could keep her safe by sending her away from me. No matter what I do, I fuck up when it comes to Stasya.

  “Enough.” She says with a tone of finality. She grabs my face and lifts it to hers. “I didn’t want to live without you, Kirya. The only reason I did is because you sacrificed your life to set me up with a beautiful opportunity in America. I kept living to honor your memory.

  “I don’t know if I would have married Dima—even if you hadn’t come back into the picture. My heart wasn’t in it, but I couldn’t hurt him. Life was complicated. It’s still complicated.”

  I place my hands over hers and remove them from my face. “You deserve to be happy and free, Stasya. You should be with Morozov or whoever you want. Hell, be by yourself. I have nothing to give except pain.”

  She touches my chest and leans in, pressing her lips to my bare shoulder. “Maybe I need pain.” As her lips move up, kissing my neck, her hands move down. “Maybe I’m not complete if I’m not being hurt.” Now her mouth is on my ear, nipping my lobe with her teeth, as her fingers creep under the waistband of my athletic pants. “Maybe I need the threat of death to feel alive.”

  “You want pain?” The question comes out in a hoarse whisper. She pulls my pants down with one hand, while the other brushes my cock. Every nerve ending in my system responds to her touch.

  “Pain gives me strength.” She says as she cups my balls.

  “Fuck,” I groan. This woman has me in the palm of her hand—literally.

  I can’t function without her. I can’t breathe without her.

  There’s no choice but to give in.

  I let her fondle me for a few seconds before I need to take control. Grabbing behind her knees, I pull her legs out and flip her onto her back. She laughs and reaches for me, but I’m one step ahead, lowering myself onto her.

  I lean in and press my mouth to hers softly using my tongue to open her lips.

  Her kiss breathes life into me. I’ve missed everything about her. The way she laughs. Her sweet lavender vanilla scent. The warmth of her body when she’s molded against mine.

  I want to worship every inch of this beautiful woman. This is my chance to show her how much I want her, need her—love her.

  As our tongues twist, I lift her tank top and caress the smooth skin at her sides. We break contact so I can remove the garments and toss them to the floor. Holding myself up on one elbow, I place my other hand on her hip and lower my face to her neck. Starting just below her ears, I kiss my way down until my lips are over her heart.

  Normally, I’d go straight for her tits, eagerly taking her nipples into my mouth. But today, I take an extra second to feel the beat of her heart against my mouth. She slides her fingers into my hair and takes a deep breath, lifting life into me.

  When I lick her nipple, her hips lift, pressing into my cock. She’s already wet with need and when I slide my cock inside her, there’s no resistance, just a low moan of pleasure. I rock in and out, taking my time. This won’t be a frenzy of passion. Tonight, I’ll fall asleep with my cock inside her and take her again every time I wake up.

  “You’re mine, Stasya,” I whisper in her ear as I slide in and out of her slowly. “No matter what happens after we leave Charlotte. I own you.”

  We rest our heads on the same firm pillow, nose to nose.

  “I’ll leave it all behind for you, Kirya. You want to go into hiding? I’ll leave the store to Debbie and I will go. You will not send me away again. I am making this choice. Not you.”

  “You’re not a stupid woman, Stasya, but this is a stupid decision.” I run my fingers through her soft blonde strands.

  “We were meant to be together. We knew it from the start. It’s simple, and yet you fight it. I don’t know why. Because I’m not letting go. If you leave, I’ll follow you. If you try to push me away, I’ll keep coming back.”

  “Stas—"

  “I know the consequences. I know the dangers. And I still want to be with you. You must let me choose this time.” A tear slides onto the pillow.

  She’s right. All this time. I’ve been calling all the shots—acting as though I know how to keep her safe. And none of
it worked. If she understands the dangers of being with me and she doesn’t run away screaming, why would I let her go?

  I know the reason.

  I am her protector.

  I’ll have to step up my game this time.

  “Do you understand what we’ve decided?” I ask, caressing her cheek as we look into each other eyes. We lay together as moonlight streams through the window of Slava’s cozy guest room.

  She nods.

  “We are no longer the saints, Kirya. We are the sinners.”

  15

  Stasya

  After our time in Charlotte, I’ve made up my mind. I must break things off with Dmitri.

  It’s not right to pursue a relationship with Kirill while I’m engaged to another man. Dmitri and I might not have the most passionate connection, but he is a kind man, a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be lied to.

  I tried to convince myself that being with Kirill was okay because of the situation. How could Dmitri deny me from being with Kirya? How could he blame me for still being in love with him? I thought he was dead. But betraying someone’s trust is never acceptable, no matter the circumstance. I should have been honest from the beginning.

  But every time I go to talk to him, he’s preoccupied. The Americans are having one of the best seasons in franchise history and he’s been focused hockey. Between practice, games and road trips and my work schedule, we barely have any time together. On the rare occasions we are in the apartment at the same time (and not sleeping), he’s in the back room working out or watching videos of games.

  Once, I tried to sit with him as a way to spend time together, but I couldn’t handle all the stop, play, rewind, pause, stop and play.

  “Oh my god, Dima! Just let it play!” I say, raising my hand toward the TV in irritation.

  “What?” He glances at me, a look of surprise on his face as if he didn’t even realize I was in the room. You’d think I would be used to the look by now. He’s always in another world when it comes to hockey.

  “Stop, rewind, pause, play, stop.” I groan. “It’s annoying.”

  “This is part of my work, Stasya. I’m only as good as my last game. If I’m not studying my performance and trying to figure out how I can do better, I’ll never get progress as a player.”