“Lyubov moya! Lyubov moya!” I gasp over and over, tears streaming down my face as he breaks through and bottoms out inside me in a single, powerful stroke.
He wraps his hand tightly around my neck and presses his forehead to mine, then begins to thrust in earnest. “Someday, I’ll tell you what it means. Tonight, I’ll show you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Kodiak
I wake up and stretch like a cat, enjoying the familiar ache of well-sexed muscles after a long night of fucking. Mmmm, a long, satisfying night with my little virgin kitten. So, so good. I can still taste her on my tongue, still smell her arousal, still feel her-- I bolt upright in bed and take in my surroundings before I untangle my legs from the sheets. My fist crashes down on the mattress and I roar in frustration when I see the empty space next to me.
My woman isn’t in my bed, and there will be hell to pay.
I knew you were a fucking runner, Logan. I’m setting this shit straight now. I toss around the idea of calling her to see where she is but decide it’s better to catch her off guard. Seeing her, face to face, will send a message of just how serious I am. It’s real fucking easy to deal with somebody over the phone, but face to face is when shit gets fucking real.
I light a cigarette and run a hand through my hair in exasperation. Shit. The day is only getting started. I push the intercom button and call down for coffee and a bagel with cream cheese, something quick I can eat on the run. It may be time to have another talk with the professor but that can be accomplished over the phone. You know, just a friendly call to remind him of my expectations where Logan is concerned.
I step into the shower and allow the water to wash over me as I consider last night and all that it means. I never considered Logan being a virgin because I’ve never encountered one before. All things considered, I won’t be dealing with any other women at all now—unless it’s business.
Logan doesn’t realize it yet but she took things to a whole new level by giving me her virginity last night, and by sleeping next to me afterwards – right up until she fucking left. I can feel myself getting angry as I hurry up and wash my hair and soap down my body. Suddenly the thought occurs to me that she may not be in her dorm at all. What if she couldn’t handle being with me that way, what if she left and went back home? Fuck. A feeling I’m not accustomed to courses through my gut and straight to my heart—fear.
Growing up Bratva, I’ve faced damn near everything you could imagine. I’ve had guns pulled on me, the shit kicked out of me, and I’ve been threatened with doing hard time, but never have I felt the terror I feel right now at the thought of losing Logan.
I get out of the shower and throw on clothes, grab the coffee I asked the maid to put in my travel cup, leave the bagel because who can fucking eat anyway, and head out the door to get my woman. As usual, Lukyan is standing at the car with his arms folded across his massive chest. That’s a good thing because today may just be a day I need to put my bodyguard to work.
Logan
I’d gotten up early this morning flooded with a tsunami of thoughts. It felt pretty overwhelming and I didn’t want to bother Kodiak, so I quietly snuck out. I suppose part of me snuck out to escape the reality of what happened last night, but I’m the queen of denial when I don’t want to think about something that’s troubling me—so denial it is. I even came up with the perfect avoidance behavior to keep me occupied and out of Kodiak’s reach today – I’m huddled in the library, studying…and continuing to do a little research on the world of Bratva. Of course, my mind wanders to the events of last night.
The evening had been so intense with meeting his family and mingling with the Bratva elite. I’m glad that hurdle is out of the way. Not being accustomed to one night stands, I hadn’t been prepared with clothes for the next day, so I slipped out early this morning and returned to my dorm. Kodiak had looked so peaceful sleeping, among other things—things like hot, sexy, and dangerous. Even in his sleep the man looks like trouble.
A quick trip to the dorm gave me enough time to take a shower -- a necessity so I could wash the scent of his cologne from my body – if I don’t, I won’t be able to think of anything but him all day. But who am I kidding? He’s all I’m thinking about anyway.
This is all new to me, being attracted to someone sexually. It’s a lot to take in and I need some time to myself to deal. And speaking of dealing, I guess I have a new job after all, since Kodiak pretty much announced it to his mother last night. I’ve tried to resist his efforts to bring me on board at the gambling house, but he’s relentless and I do need the money. And the chance to observe the Bratva elite in their own element is just too tempting to pass up.
Paying for a cab hadn’t been in my budget but the situation demanded it, so there went my coffee money for the week. It’s a feeling I’ve become accustomed to, being responsible. Doing things like budgeting are second nature to me. I grew up knowing that if I didn’t take care of myself, no one else would. I remember my mother’s arms wrapped around me as a child when she was on a good drunk. “Don’t be like me, princess. Don’t ever depend on a man to take care of you. Get out, get out as soon as you can so you won’t be your mother’s daughter.”
The bitter times far outweighed the few heartfelt conversations we had – not that she remembered any of them. Instead of talking about my day at school or what movie we wanted to see that weekend, I was stepping over her drunk body and making sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit. Perhaps my alcoholic mother has been my greatest inspiration because sometimes you learn more from a bad example than a good one. I did exactly what she said: I got out… because deep down inside, I knew she was right.
I don’t hear from my parents these days and they don’t hear from me. But I’m sure they’ll get in touch when they need money – as if I have any to give them. It occurs to me that Kodiak’s family is everything that mine isn’t. They take care of their own. They’re loyal. They honor their commitments. They have each other’s back. They enjoy each other’s company. Hell, they love each other. These Russian gangsters have forged closer family ties than my suburban, middle-class family.
I can’t stop thinking about sleeping with Kodiak last night. It isn’t even so much that I lost my virginity since I made the decision to give that part of me to him. I am, however, worried about how it will change things between us. I don’t know what this means for us. I wonder if I’ve unexpectedly found a kindred spirit, someone who can relate to the pain and secrets I’ve hidden from the world.
I think Kodiak has secrets too. He seems happy with his family but there is a darkness within him that feels different from the other members of the Glazov family. He is one of them and yet he is different. I don’t know what’s causing the turmoil that lies just beneath the impassive mask he wears in public. True to my nature, it just makes me all the more curious about what it is he’s hiding.
Just when he shows me a moment of warmth, I can almost feel it as he realizes it and catches himself. Then those black eyes go cold again and I am once again dealing with the coldhearted Bratva male that I first met. But no matter how much he tries to freeze me out, all it takes is one look across a crowded ballroom and everyone else just disappears and it’s just the two of us. What I tried to tell him last night is still true – we’re from different worlds and it could never work. I don’t think Kodiak is the kind of man who’ll listen to common sense. Knowing that Glazov is making him watch my every move takes the responsibility out of my hands and puts the proverbial ball in Kodiak’s court. It remains to be seen just how serious he is about carrying out his father’s orders.
All of these thoughts fill my head as I stare blankly at the book in my lap. I’m curled up on a couch in the corner of the library’s main room that opens off of the lobby. I’ve been perusing the archives on doctoral dissertations and investigative journalism studies. My laptop is on a nearby table and is open to a history of Russian mafia. It’s interesting stuff, to say the least. Apparently, there h
as been media speculation over the years about whether Kodiak is really Glazov’s son, but no one has been able to confirm anything.
My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice and I look up to see Kodiak’s mother and Katrina – the woman I met last night who stood up for me against her husband, Novak. Once again I can’t help but wonder what in the world she sees in Novak. Opposites really do attract, I guess.
“Logan, what a coincidence seeing you here,” Kodiak’s mother says in her smooth, sultry voice.
I address her first. “Mrs. Glazov, what a pleasant surprise to see you again. You, too, Katrina.”
“Please, dear, just Kathleen will do,” she demurs. “You’ll make me feel old.”
“Oh, no. No, I-I didn’t…”
Mrs. Glazov smiles serenely at me and I realize she’s the same caring person she was last night, so it wasn’t just an act for the company she was entertaining. It’s a relief to know that she seems to accept Kodiak’s pursuit of me. But I’m not naïve enough to think she isn’t a force to be reckoned with. It’s no secret that she holds tremendous power in the Bratva world. It takes a strong woman to be with a Glazov man and I see that strength in both of these women. I resist the urge to chuckle as I think to myself that it must catch people off guard when she goes all Bratva bitch on them. I’ve heard some stories and the woman is fierce.
“So, what are you doing here?” she asks brightly.
“Oh, just homework, you know… college stuff.”
“Well, it’s wonderful to see you, dear. Now, I don’t want to interrupt you from your studies so this won’t take long. My son has made it pretty clear he’s quite smitten with you. I look forward to seeing more of you. So we just wanted to say hello and perhaps set up a luncheon date with you.”
“I’d love that.” I blush at her mention of Kodiak and am surprised when I realize that I mean what I’m saying. I don’t feel the awkward nervousness around these two women that I feel around the Bratva men. I walk a few steps over to the table where my backpack and open laptop are spread out. I close the laptop quickly and glance up to find Katrina’s eyes fixed on me. Shit, shit, shit! I find a slip of paper and write down the dorm pay phone number, trying to hide how my hand is trembling. A tinge of embarrassment goes through me as I explain it. “That’s the number to my dorm. I don’t have a cell phone, um, everything goes for school. You know, books and stuff.”
“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Personally, I think it’s admirable that you’re willing to sacrifice for a higher education. It takes grit to make your own way in this world, but I think you may know that already. I’ll call you soon and I’m looking forward to it, dear.”
Her cell phone rings and she glances at the screen, and then at Katrina with a smile and an eye roll. She leans in and lightly kisses both of my cheeks, then turns back toward the lobby as she takes the call.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I hear her say as Katrina kisses my cheeks with more promises of phone calls and lunch soon. As the two women walk away, I can’t help but marvel that I think I just made my first female friends since entering college.
Kodiak
I’m standing on the second floor balcony of the library overlooking the lobby and the main reading room, and I’m shocked to see Logan talking to my mother of all people. My mother is doing what she always does—being a Bratva wife. The wives play an intricate role in the overall scheme of things. We have cells, groups if you will, of Bratva and our cell is anything but old school when it comes to our women. My mother being here is no coincidence, though I’m sure she’s convinced Logan it is. If I know my mother and Katrina, they followed Logan, and I want to know why. I’m already taking steps to gather information about Logan through any means necessary, which will involve a little B&E. Luckily, I enjoy roaming around where someone lives, searching through their belongings, getting to know what makes them tick. Logan better hope I don’t find anything troubling.
The only good thing about what I see below me is that my mother seems to like Logan. She wants me to be happy but that will in no way stop her from taking steps to find out if Logan is trustworthy. Looks like I’m not the only one on the hunt for this girl. I smirk as I look down at Logan. You’re not a little girl anymore; not after everything we did last night...
I take a few steps away from the railing and pull my phone from the carrier that’s clipped to my side, just one of the necessities I have to carry because of my last name. I always wear a gun holster on my ankle and carry a nasty little switchblade in my pocket. My dad picks up on the second ring and I don’t waste any time finding out if my father put her up to it or if Mother’s just being Mother.
“Dad?” I say, keeping my voice down. We’re in a library, after all. “Would someone please tell me why my mother is here at the library with Logan?”
He chuckles indulgently at the mention of his wife. The man makes my stalking practices look like kindergarten play when it pertains to that woman. There’s nothing he doesn’t know about her. Sometimes he lets her think she has secrets but, trust me, he knows all of them, and he makes that clear to her at the time of his choosing. I have a pretty good idea of what that involves, but I try not to think about it. I mean, who wants to think of their parents fucking like animals? Not me.
“She’s doing what every good Bratva wife does, making certain your woman can be trusted. You know this about your mother, she is curious by nature.” There is silence on the line before he continues, “I am forever grateful for her tenacity because it led her to me. She didn’t realize she had sealed her fate until it was too late. She is my greatest treasure -- but she is also the source of my life’s greatest aggravations. I’m certain you can relate to that, being that your girlfriend is an investigative reporter.”
“She isn’t a reporter, Dad, she’s just studying it at school. And why can’t that end up working to our advantage? Novak’s wife is a reporter.” It’s an argument I’ve saved for a time such as this.
“She can be if she’s trained correctly, and that’s where you come in, son. Either put the fear of God in the girl or cut her loose. I suggest you take seriously my directive to keep an eye on her. I assure you I am viewing everything that concerns the girl with the utmost seriousness. I have work to do, son, go now and do as I’ve asked you.”
“Yes, Dad, of course. Wait – Hey, what’s the word on her friend, Gilbert? I haven’t seen him since Dominika, er, introduced herself last night.”
Again he chuckles before replying, “Don’t worry about that boy. I have no doubt that Dominika has him…well in hand, as it were.” His tone is grave as he continues, “Son…I love you and I can see that you are deeply affected by this woman. I recognize the look in your eyes lately. Your mother and I have waited many years for this. But you must accept that, for a man in our position, matters of the heart can have serious consequences. Consequences that I would have no choice but to deal with. Handle her like the man I have raised you to be and she’ll be on your arm -- not six feet under.”
He gives me no time to answer as the line goes dead. He has said all he wants to say. My father is a man of few words and I learned long ago to listen well.
Logan
I wait until the two women walk out before I turn back toward the sofa, eager to curl up with my books again. But suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I shiver. All of this Russian mafia business is making me paranoid.
I can’t resist looking up at the balcony, only to lock eyes with Kodiak as he leans a hand on the railing, his other hand on his hip as he glares down at me. Even from here, I can feel the storm brewing; he isn’t happy. My breath hitches when he pushes away from the railing and storms down the steps toward me. How in the hell did he find me?
Perhaps his mother called him or maybe he cornered poor Gilbert and threatened him with certain death if he didn’t give up my location. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard from Gilbert since I saw him leave last
night with his Amazon minder. I need to check on him. Either way, that ominous, black-eyed gaze I’ve become accustomed to is bearing down on me. I look down and busy myself with the book in front of me. It’s not like I could focus right now if I wanted to, but it gives me a moment to think of something – anything. I don’t look up until he speaks.
“Woman,” he growls when he reaches me, shaking his head slowly back and forth. The fact that he’s towering over me isn’t helping matters.
I lay my pen down and look up at him sighing, “I see you’re still stalking me.”
“You’re damn straight I’m still stalking you!” Yep, he’s pissed.
“Well, Kodiak, that’s by your choice, not mine.”
“Why the hell did you leave this morning?”
“Kodiak, please. I haven’t had coffee yet.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say and, as pathetic as it sounds, it’s the truth. Anyone who’s addicted to the stuff like I am knows when you don’t have it, you start going through withdrawals. It’s been my lifeline for all-night study sessions for far too long.
“Then get your ass up and let’s go get some.”
“Yes, sir. Bossy much?”
“Oh, I’ve been nice up until now, sweetheart.” He starts gathering my stuff up before I have a chance to argue with him and I know he’s heading to the coffee shop next door. I’m practically running behind him to keep up and I’m surprised when he stops and holds the door open for me.
The coffee shop has a vintage feel to it with wall art featuring coffee cups and coffee makers from different parts of the world. The owners were smart in strategically placing it next to the library and of course the students love it, for the coffee and the free Wi-Fi. Anyone who’s ever been to college knows those two things are necessities.
Expose' (Born Bratva Book 3) Page 8
