I grab my gun from the nightstand and go in search of her.
I hear movement in the kitchen and stalk in that direction as quietly as possible.
Emiliya is standing with a cup of coffee in her hand, completely nude, her hair wet as she stares out of the little window. I walk up slowly, as not to disturb her, to see what she is looking at.
The beach.
“It is so peaceful, Radimir,” she murmurs.
I place the gun down on the counter and wrap my hands around her small waist before brushing my lips across her shoulder.
“It is, kotik,” I admit.
My eyes are now transfixed on the ocean waves coming in and then going back out—repeatedly, yet different every single time.
“I never thought I would see the beach,” she rasps, her voice not yet recovered from being held by Dimitri’s strong hands.
“So little faith in me, then?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. She sets her coffee down and turns in my arms. Her perfect, bare tits press against my chest as she slides her hands up my body and around my neck.
“I have all my faith in you, Rad. I knew you would find me. I just wasn’t so sure I would still be alive when you did. I was stubborn. I fought when I shouldn’t have.” Her eyes well with tears and I pull her even closer to me, pressing my lips firmly to hers.
“Nyet,” I growl. “You are fucking perfect. You did nothing wrong. I will not hear of you saying such things.”
“I was scared, so scared,” she admits. I can’t help myself; I lean down, capturing her lips with mine.
It is a hard kiss, a kiss of regrets and ownership rolled into one. I am sure I have bruised her lips, but I do not care. I need her to feel alive, she is alive, and she did nothing wrong. She could never do anything wrong—in my eyes, anyway.
“Go put your bathing suit on. Today, we stay on the beach all day long,” I order before tapping her sweet ass with my palm.
She doesn’t say a word before she places a gentle kiss on my rough cheek and releases her hold on me. I watch her beautiful naked ass walk into the bedroom where I know her luggage resides.
I take her coffee and dump it in the sink. She does not need anything to keep her awake today. Today is purely about her relaxing next to me, and nothing more. I leave the kitchen in search of a shower before I take my kotik to play in the sand.
I look around the apartment, finally taking it all in before I go. It is nice, almost as nice as ours in Moscow was. The floors in the living are a warm wood, and the colors are neutral—taupe and brown. Not something I would want to live in permanently, but on short notice it will do. The sofa is a light beige and the rug beneath the coffee table dark brown.
I take a step toward the sliding glass door in the dining room and look out at the massive ocean. We have our own private access with a long trail of wooden steps to take us down to the shore. It is perfect for the days when Emiliya and I can enjoy the sunshine. I promised her lazy days on the beach, and I will give them to her.
Once I make my way to the bedroom, I quickly jump in the shower, noticing that the walk-in closet door is closed, alerting me to the fact that Emiliya must be changing into her suit. I almost whimper like a school boy when I step out of the shower to find her standing in the bedroom.
A pale pink string bikini hardly covering her body, and her black hair piled on top of her head in some kind of bun. I slide my own trunks on and take her hand, silently leading her out of the apartment. She quietly follows me with her flip flops and an oversized bag on her shoulder. If I do not leave instantly I will throw her down on the floor and fuck her with no mercy. This, she does not need.
Silently, I help put down towels for both of us to lie on, along with a big umbrella I have to bury in the sand. Emiliya stands to the side until everything is set up, and then she sits on the towels before lying out and sighing as she closes her eyes. I grunt like the asshole I am when I take in all of her exposed flesh again.
“You are staring at me,” she smirks, her pretty pink lips twitching.
“You’re too naked,” I bark angrily.
Emiliya props her elbows up and turns her head to me, I know she is looking at me, but my focus is on her barely covered tits. Fucking perfect. It feels like weeks since I have touched them, since I have been inside of her. I hate myself for my thoughts. I do not know the extent of her tortures in that place. However, my cock doesn’t realize this; he just wants to be home in her warm cunt again.
“I am in a swim suit,” she says, stating the obvious.
“Any man can look over here and they will know exactly what you look like naked,” I explain.
“You are not making sense. I am just as naked as the other women.”
“You are not the other women. You are mine,” I point out. For whatever reason, that makes her burst out in laughter.
“If I had a ring, I would wear it on my finger. In any case, I have your last name. Yet, you are still jealous?” she asks, her eyes dancing. It is not funny so I tell her so.
I think about the ring thing. I need to remedy that. Immediately.
“Radimir, let us enjoy the beach. I may be wearing next to nothing, but I am doing it right next to you. Rest easy, my volk.”
Wolf – it is my turn to burst out in laughter. Wolf. My little kotik thinks of me as a wolf. I find it oddly refreshing and my mood lightens.
“You call me volk next time I make you come, yes?” I ask. She grins up at me as her answer.
Yesterday she was not sure she would survive, and today she is giggling beside me on a beach halfway around the world from where she was undoubtedly tortured. Perhaps she is as strong as Kirill suggested. She certainly seems it in this moment.
I ENJOY THE WARM sun beating down on my pale skin. I keep applying the sunscreen to my exposed body so I will not burn. I have never been out in such warm sun for such a length of time. When I lived in Paris, I was forbidden to travel to the beaches there. My father thought it uncouth to spend time lazing, when I should be preparing for my role as wife and trophy piece.
I look over to Radimir. He’s all golden, toned, and hard bodied. I can’t help the shiver of want that rolls through me. The last thing I should want after my week is to have his hands all over me and him inside of me.
I want him, though—all of him.
I want him to claim my body again, to show me that he still desires me. I still desire him. I don’t think I ever could not. There is something about the man that makes me crave him.
I thought after that first night that I would never truly want his touch again. I needed to secure my safety and my place, but I never imagined that it would be so good between us. Once our walls came down, once he accepted me as his and I accepted him as mine, we exploded around each other.
“I am going to dip my toes in the water,” I murmur as he talks on the phone.
Radimir’s voice is rumbling deep and low. I cannot hear the words he is saying, but I do not care. Just listening to his voice eases me.
“Be careful, kotik,” he warns. I smile before standing and walking toward the blue ocean water.
I start to walk into the water and I am taken aback by the freezing cold liquid that brushes against my feet. I have never felt water so cold before in my life. It is as if ice cubes have been dumped in.
“Cold, right?” a voice says from a few feet away.
I look over to find a man wetting his feet as well. He is in swim trunks, shirtless of course, and he is handsome in a blonde, All-American kind of way.
“It is, much more than I expected,” I say slowly.
I feel confident in my English now, after spending so much time with Oliver and Haleigh at the safe house.
“You aren’t American. What nationality are you?” he asks, smiling.
I am taken aback by how handsome he is. Warm honey colored eyes and a dimple in his cheek.
“Russian,” I say, trying to decide if this man is harmless or not.
“Aaahhh, a true Ru
ssian beauty right in front of my eyes.”
I open my mouth to respond. What I am planning on saying, I have no clue, but I am cut off when I feel Radimir’s warm hand wrap around my waist.
“Come, kotik. Out of the sun, yeah?” he murmurs as he places a kiss on my neck.
I look up to him and see the murderous glare he is giving the handsome stranger. I don’t protest. I do as he says and walk away from the man, never looking back at him. Radimir stays behind.
Once I am under the umbrella, I watch him with the stranger. They are talking. I expect Radimir to punch him for daring to converse with me, but he doesn’t. He is talking to him, his body ridged and tense. He nods once and turns from the stranger, his eyes focused on me as he walks my way.
“You stay away from that man. You ever see him again, you just walk away. Understand me?” he asks, his voice tense.
“Yes, Radimir,” I mutter, choosing not to argue with him. He looks angry; but more than that, he looks almost scared.
We only spend another thirty minutes outside before Radimir announces that he is hungry and wishes to go back to the apartment. I want to plead with him to let me stay outside and enjoy the sun, but I don’t. Instead, I follow behind him back to our home. I haven’t had much food the past week, and I too find that I am hungry.
“We can order something in. What would you like?” he asks as we walk through the front door of the apartment.
“Whatever you wish is fine, Radimir,” I say coolly.
I am still nervous about the strange, albeit handsome, man and Radimir’s command to never speak to him again. What does it mean? Who was he?
“Go shower the sand off, I will order something,” he offers. I walk toward the bedroom.
I need to ask him about this man from the beach, but his mood has shifted. Gone is the sweet, kind man who promised me a week on the beach, who held me throughout the flight and the night. No, before me is Radimir Zalesky—Bratva Brigadier.
I sigh heavily as I wash the sand from my body. It is everywhere, clinging to my skin as the warm water washes over me. Once I have showered, I dress in a pair of leggings and a tight tank top. My clothes are all too warm for the California sunshine, and I wonder if Radimir will allow me to go shopping for some new ones.
I make the short distance from the bedroom to the living area to find that Radimir is setting out Chinese food in containers. I cringe, because he hasn’t brought out plates; but then I take a deep breath and remember that with Radimir, things don’t have to be perfect. There is nobody who will be angry if I do not serve food, take-out or homemade, on china plates.
“Thank you,” I say, taking one of the containers along with a fork.
I will never understand how to eat with chopsticks. I have tried several times, but I cannot make it work. Radimir doesn’t respond with anything other than a grunt and I turn from him, going into the living room to sit on the sofa.
I wait for him to join me and am surprised when he actually does. He sits down next to me, still shirtless and still gorgeous. We eat in strained silence until I can’t take it anymore. I need to satisfy my curiosity. I need to know who the mysterious, dimpled, blonde man is.
“Who was that man?” I ask tentatively.
“A man you should never speak to again,” he grunts. I set my food down, turning to face him.
“Radimir, why must I not speak to him? Who is he?”
Radimir turns to face me. His eyes are ablaze and bright with emotion. I wish I could decipher the different meanings that run through them, but I cannot. I still don’t know him well enough to tell his moods.
“You will not keep me in the dark, Radimir. Not after everything I have been through. I need to know if I am safe,” I demand.
Radimir clenches his jaw and his nose flares before he finally resigns and speaks to me.
“That was FBI. He is watching Kirill, which means he is watching me now. He was flirting with you, and it pissed me off, so I went over to him. Then he announced that he was FBI. We are not here one hundred percent legally. He will deport us if we do not apply for American Citizenship. He was just giving me a warning, veiled in a threat, covered with concern,” he says. If I wasn’t confused about this man before, I surely am now.
“He is police, then?” I ask.
“Yes. Federal police for all of United States. I talked to Kirill while you were showering, and he informed me that the citizenship would not be a problem. Unfortunately, he cannot keep the man from watching us. You do not talk to him, do you understand me?” His blue eyes are drilling into mine, and I nod my agreement. I would not anger Radimir. Not purposely, anyway. It isn’t in me. Plus, I like his smile too much to cause him anger.
“Yes, okay, Radimir. I will stay away from him,” I agree, chewing on my bottom lip. I’m afraid to ask my next question, afraid I’ll anger him further.
“What is it, kotik?” he murmurs, taking his thumb and pushing my lip down away from my teeth.
“I should not ask,” I say, looking to the side.
“You should and you will,” he says, his voice gentler than a few moments ago.
I look back to him and notice that his eyes are no longer alight with swirling emotions; but instead, they are calm and filled with ease. This is not like when we were in Russia and he left me his credit card. I have nothing to my name here, and even my name means nothing here.
“I need some clothes. Everything I have is too hot,” I confess. He throws his head back with laughter.
“Let me get dressed. I take my little kotik shopping. I have heard that Rodeo Drive is where the best shops are. We’ll go,” he offers.
I jump into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before I pepper his face with kisses.
“Does my kotik approve of my shopping trip suggestion?” he chuckles.
I nod once before sliding off of his lap and quickly walking to the bedroom. Radimir follows me, but doesn’t go straight into the bedroom. Instead, he pulls my back into his front and wraps his arms around my middle, pressing his lips against the skin of my neck.
“I only want you to be happy here, Emiliya,” he murmurs. “I want you to forget the horrors you have seen. I want nothing bad to ever touch you again, except for me.” His voice is deep and husky.
I can’t control the way my nipples pebble as his breath caresses my neck. I can’t stop my panties from growing wet, and I don’t keep my sigh in, either. But Radimir does not touch me further, and I wonder why he has not truly even attempted to touch me.
Perhaps he is just waiting for me to recover from my abduction. Perhaps he does not desire me anymore. He hasn’t asked me what truly happened while Dimitri had me. He doesn’t know the extent of my violations. I don’t want him to be disgusted by me. I wish for him to always desire me, as I desire him.
I dress in my coolest outfit to go shopping. It is a three-quarter sleeve wrap dress, royal blue. It is fitted down to just above my knee, and I pair it with a set of nude, lace, high heels. I put my hair up in a very high bun on top of my head, hoping that it will keep me even cooler. I take my jewelry out of my bag, and I am putting diamond studs in my ears when Radimir appears from the shower, dressed casually in a pair of dark washed jeans and a soft looking, blue, v-neck t-shirt.
“Where did you get those?” I ask, looking him up and down.
I have never seen the man in anything aside from suits. Today was a first with his swim trunks, and now jeans with a cotton t-shirt? It surprises me.
“I don’t get many days off of work, kotik, so you have never seen me in casual clothes,” he says with a smile. He slides a pair of sandals on his feet – sandals – I don’t understand.
“Shall we, my beautiful?” he asks, holding his hand out for me to take. I slide my hand inside of his warm grasp and together we walk out of the apartment.
The smell of the ocean water hits me immediately, and I suddenly feel a calm wash over me. I love this feeling. The serenity of the ocean waves, the scent, and then the
way Radimir is holding me. I follow my badman down the stairs to a very sleek, black sedan. It is one hundred percent Rad.
“You do not have a license, correct?” he asks after he has started the vehicle and punches our destination in the GPS.
“No, I have never needed one,” I confess shyly.
“Not to worry, my pussycat. Unless you are with me, you will always have a guard, so he will take you where you need to be,” he says.
I close my eyes as the car moves down the freeway and I think about my friend, Haleigh. I miss her. I miss our conversations and my English lessons. I miss Maksimilyan and his incessant chatter. I wonder how she is doing with her new daughter, little Maryia. I only held her for a brief moment, but I already know that she is special.
Then thoughts of a child of my own suddenly enter my mind. Will Radimir and I have them? Could I already be pregnant? Would a newly formed child survive what I went through last week? There are so many unanswered questions, so many things I want to avoid, and so many things I don’t wish to talk about out loud.
“We are here,” Radimir says, gently shaking me.
I blink once before looking around. The streets are lined with works of art and shops. It looks classy and fantastic. I cannot wait to find some lovely summer pieces.
Radimir places a gentle kiss on my cheek before he gets out and walks around the car to open the door for me. He informs me of some phone calls he needs to make, so he will be outside talking while I shop.
I walk right past the Jimmy Choo shoe store and immediately stop in my tracks. Rows of beautiful high heels practically glitter inside. I must go. Though, I do not necessarily need shoes, I must at least peruse. I make my way inside. I buy four pairs of gorgeous high heels that I do not need before leaving to go in search of my whole reason for venturing out—clothes.
I happen upon a small boutique and spy a few cute shorts and dresses in the window so I wander inside. I am greeted by a very tall, painfully thin woman. Her long bleached blonde hair is fried from too much processing, and her makeup is too heavy for the day. I try not to hold those things against her. She has a kind smile and asks me if I need help immediately.
Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) Page 16
