Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  “We ready?” he asks.

  “Let’s go,” Yakov grunts.

  We walk back to the SUV that we all drove in together, and Yakov explains the situation to a curious Timofei as we head over to Alicia’s home to talk to her.

  “Do you think they’ll find anything out from this contact of theirs?” Quinn asks as she cuddles Ashley’s little sleeping boy, Yurik, against her chest.

  “I don’t know. I wish I knew more of everything that was happening,” I admit as I look down at the little baby, Devora.

  “You’ll probably never know everything,” Leonie murmurs.

  Quinn, Leonie, and I are taking care of the babies while the exhausted mothers sleep. Devora is still eating every two hours, and she’s just finished a bottle of breast milk that Inessa left me.

  Yurik is just a light sleeper and won’t settle anywhere but his own bed, so Quinn has been holding him, rocking him, and singing to him off and on throughout the evening.

  “You were told more than the rest of us. I usually don’t get anything until after everything is over and done with, whatever it is,” Quinn murmurs.

  “Yeah, because it’s my father who is acting unhinged,” I huff out.

  “Will you come to Denver?” Quinn asks, biting on her bottom lip, looking between me and Leonie.

  “I think so. I don’t see why not. Mika has a month, according to my father’s threat. I don’t think he’ll want to stay in the city that long.”

  I look to Leonie who just shrugs. She probably will go back to Russia soon with Ustin, back to Sergei, who is his real Pakhan.

  “I can’t imagine he would either. Hey, when you come back, I can practice my skills on you,” she grins.

  “Your skills?”

  “I’ve been taking classes in massage therapy. Ziven has strict rules on who I can and cannot massage,” she says, rolling her eyes. I can tell that she’s relived, though.

  “I haven’t had a massage since right before my wedding. I would love that,” I practically moan.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she giggles.

  A few minutes later, the front door opens, and the men start filing inside of the house. Dominik, Yakov, Ziven, and Mika look at us in surprise, but Timofei just grins, and Ustin follows behind all of them from his station at the front porch.

  “Where are Inessa and Ashley?” Yakov barks, sounding harsher than I’m sure he meant to.

  “We decided they needed rest. Inessa is in her room and Ashley is in the guest room. We’ve been on baby duty,” I explain.

  Yakov nods but doesn’t say anything as he turns and walks down the hallway toward the guest room. I shake my head as I stand and carry Devora over to Dominik. Without a word, he takes her from my grasp.

  “She’s just eaten. I was getting ready to take her to bed,” I explain. He grins.

  “Thank you, Sana,” he murmurs before he turns and carries his bundled baby to her crib.

  “Ready?” Mika asks me as he holds his hand out for me.

  “Yeah,” I nod, slipping my hand in his.

  We walk out of the house—Ustin, Leonie, Ziven, Quinn, Timofei, Mika and me. The SUV we arrived in is waiting and running at the curb. We all pile inside, and I can’t believe the time. On the way back to the hotel, I watch as the sun rises.

  There’s a calm over the city, a serenity that takes over, and I can’t help but close my eyes and just breathe.

  It’s almost over.

  I can feel the stress and tension in the vehicle, but I know that whatever happened tonight, that my Mika is one step closer to this whole nightmare being over and us moving on—together.

  “Lapochka, we’re here,” Mika’s voice murmurs as my eyes flutter open.

  I look around in surprise and see that we’re alone and indeed in front of the hotel, a valet patiently waiting for us to exit the car. I smile sheepishly and start to scoot out of the vehicle, taking Mika’s offered hand of help. The rest of our party must have already gone up to their rooms, and I wonder just how long we’ve been sitting here.

  Once we’re in the elevator, all thoughts of the other people in our party go out the window. My exhaustion takes over me again as I rest my head against Mika’s shoulder. He slips his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side a little tighter as his lips skim the top of my head. I practically fall asleep against him. When the door pings and opens, he bends down and slides his other arm under my knees, picking me up, very much like his bride, carrying me to our room.

  “I can walk,” I murmur.

  “You’re dead on your feet, Oksana. Did you have too much fun with those babies?” he asks on a chuckle.

  “Devora is so sweet,” I yawn as I lay my head against his shoulder.

  “She’s only a week old. She hasn’t developed an attitude yet,” he laughs as he opens the door.

  Mika doesn’t set me down. He walks toward the bed and then slowly strips me to my panties, even divesting me of my bra. My eyes fight to stay open as he removes his own clothes.

  “She won’t have an attitude. She’s sweet as sugar,” I murmur.

  Mika throws his head back in laughter as he finishes taking off the rest of his clothes. I watch as he crawls up the bed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my back against his front. I let out a sigh when one of his hands slides up to cup my breast.

  “Her mother is Inessa. She’ll have attitude, just as our daughters will have attitude.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, pretending to be offended.

  “It means you’re a printsessa. You were raised as one, and you own it. It means you have attitude. You can be demanding and spoiled, which means our daughters will probably be the same,” he grumbles.

  I roll over in his arms and narrow my eyes on him, but he only grins back at me.

  “Well, if you don’t like it, then sorry buddy, you’re stuck with me.”

  “I never said I didn’t like it, lapochka,” he whispers as he rolls on top of me. I widen my legs so that his hips fall between them. “I love your smartass attitude; I love that you can be a spitfire one minute, and my soft and sweet lapochka the next.”

  He runs his nose along mine before his lips press against my own. His lips massage mine, and I find my mouth automatically opens to let him inside. His tongue fills me, and his strokes are even and firm, making me think of the way his cock’s strokes are much the same. I wrap one of my legs around his thigh as I roll my hip in search for more.

  “Oksana,” he rasps as his hand wraps around my ass on top of my panties.

  “Why don’t you put that baby inside of me, Mikhail. Keep me forever,” I whisper.

  “Fuck,” he hisses as he sits back on his knees.

  His fingers hook in my panties and he rips them down my legs before he tosses them to the side. Mika wraps his fingers around the backs of my knees and spreads my legs wide before he pushes them back. Without a word, he slides inside of me. I gasp at his intrusion, but he doesn’t move. He lets my body adjust around him, and his eyes stay pinned to mine.

  “I’m keeping you forever, Oksana, babies or no babies,” he rasps as he pulls out and then slams back inside of me on a groan.

  “Mikhail,” I whisper.

  “Forever, lapochka,” he grunts.

  I’m unable to say anything else as he starts to fuck me, his body slamming into mine with such force that my breath is stolen from me as my breasts bounce with each thrust. My body aches, my legs, my pussy, and that place inside of me that continues to build, searching for my orgasm and, yet, unable to reach it. With each and every slam of his pelvis against my clit, I feel myself climbing higher, hoping that he’ll send me over the edge.

  “You’re mine. This pussy, this mouth, these tits, all of you is mine. I don’t give a fuck what happens next month, next year, or ten years from now. You’re fucking mine,” he growls as his strokes pick up both pace and force.

  I arch my back, wrapping my hands around his forearms and holding onto him as he continu
es to use the strength in his thighs to fuck me over and over again. I watch as he bites on his bottom lip, his focus on our connection, a light sheen of sweat developing on his face. Fuck, he’s beautiful.

  “Mikhail,” I whisper.

  His eyes lift to mine, and he presses my legs down even further as he leans a little more over the top of me. His strokes become faster and shallower.

  “Come around me, Oksana. Come on my cock, lapochka.”

  I whimper as my pussy clamps down and my orgasm takes over my entire body. My eyes pinch closed, and I bite the inside of my cheek as I let the feeling, the shaking, the rigid tenseness take over me.

  Mika doesn’t stop. He continues to drive inside of me, his thrusts turning erratic, hard, and deep again until he stills. I feel his release fill my body. Then, he frees my legs and shoves his face in my neck as his body relaxes on top of mine.

  “Oksana,” he whispers into my neck.

  “Mikhail,” I reply as my fingers start to run up and down his back.

  Nothing but us matters right now.

  My father, his threats, the Cartel, my marriage to Gavril—none of it.

  Mika and me, that’s all that matters, and that’s all that I care about. Whatever we have to do to ensure that nothing happens to us, to our marriage, we’ll do it.

  Kill, maim, steal, lie, or cheat. I don’t give a shit what it is, I’ll do it, to keep my Badman.

  WATCHING OKSANA PACK, I decide to order room service for breakfast. Today we leave for Denver, and honest to fuck, if I never came back to this city, it would be too soon.

  Once room service arrives, we sit and eat in silence. It isn’t as comfortable as it should be, but I can’t seem to engage in conversation when my mind is focused on El Patron, trying to find him, and severing his head.

  Alicia was helpful. At least we have a name to call him by now, instead of simply El Patron. His name is Diego Pineda. Hopefully, by this afternoon, I’ll have an entire file from Oliver on him.

  I want to know everything there is to know about the man, his entire life, his childhood—all the way up to this morning. I want it all. Only then can we devise a plan to attack him and kill him.

  “You’re lost in thought,” Oksana murmurs, her voice soft and low.

  “I am,” I admit as I take a bite of an English muffin.

  “Are you going to share?” she asks, arching a brow.

  “Not right now. Are you ready to go?” I brush the crumbs from my hand and stand up.

  Oksana gives me a jerk of her head as a nod and walks back over to the bed to zip up her bag. I watch as she worries her bottom lip, but I don’t say anything. I can tell that she’s on the edge of speaking as it is, saying whatever it is that is bothering her.

  “Are Leonie and Ustin going back to Russia?” she blurts.

  I’m surprised by her question, but I probably shouldn’t be. Oksana and Leonie have forged a friendship bond. By the worried look on her face, it’s deeper than I’d imagined.

  “Ustin and Leonie will stay until we’ve dealt with the shit with your father. There’s a condo in my building they can stay in that’s empty. After that, I can’t know for sure. It would depend if Ziven wanted him to stay, if he wanted to stay, and if Sergei would be willing to allow him to stay,” I explain. I take her in as she smiles, my beautiful Sana.

  “I really like Leonie, and I think that Quinn does, too. It would be nice to have some friends around.” She shrugs, but she can’t hide the way her eyes dance in excitement.

  “Let’s go. A plane waits for us,” I say, shaking my head at her.

  A few minutes later, we’re all gathered at the hotel’s valet, waiting for the SUV that will take us to the airport.

  “I feel like I should have said goodbye to Ashley, Inessa, and Aleksandra,” Oksana murmurs.

  “You’ll see them again; and they’re only a phone call away, lapochka,” I remind her as I slide my hand around her waist and pull her close to my side.

  We all pile into the SUV and let the Shestyorka, who is driving us, finish loading our luggage. The car is silent, none of us speaking as we make our way toward the airport. I’m still lost in thought about Diego Pineda, who he is, where he lives, and how I can get his head, literally.

  “Oliver will call soon,” Ziven grunts as the SUV pulls into the tarmac of the small airport. I squeeze Oksana’s thigh as the door opens.

  It doesn’t take us long to unload from the SUV and climb onto the small plane to head home. The flight itself is only a little over three hours, and it feels like fifteen minutes once we’re all on the plane and engaged in different conversations.

  The women all sit together, and I can’t help but watch as Oksana talks to Quinn and Leonie. I take Oksana in, how she smiles and then her eyes flash over to me every so often and her lips tip in a coy smile, fuck, she’s stunning and—mine.

  “We meet first thing in the morning. Oliver should have the files to us by then, and we can discuss what we’re going to do,” Ziven rumbles as the plane lands in Denver.

  “Sounds good,” I grunt.

  We all exit the plane, and I’m glad to see that there are already cars waiting for us. I’m tired, my brain was unable to shut off all night, and I feel like I haven’t really rested since before Oksana was taken from me. The ride to our building is quick, and I’m grateful. All I want to do is crawl into my own bed and sleep for a fucking year.

  Once we’re at our building, Ziven gives Ustin a key and tells him which condo number is theirs. I grab Oksana’s and my luggage, ready to go up to my own condo. Oksana quietly follows behind me, as I decide to take the stairs instead of the elevator.

  Unlocking my door, I walk inside and cringe. It’s messier than I remembered, and I’m sure there is spoiled food inside of my fridge—what little food I had, anyway.

  Fuck, I don’t even want to think about the pile of laundry I probably have in my closet. My sheets need to be changed as well. Oksana wouldn’t want to sleep on them, not if she knew what had happened on them—which she never will.

  “I have sheets in the cupboard. I need to change them,” I murmur as I walk toward the linen closet.

  “Let me,” Oksana calls out as she hurries to my side.

  “Nyet, go and take a bath if you want, or something. It’ll only take a minute, and then I’m passing the fuck out. I’m exhausted,” I grunt.

  “Mika, what’s wrong?” she asks, picking up on my hesitancy.

  “Nothing, I’m just beat,” I lie.

  I don’t want her in my room, not until I make sure that nobody else has left anything behind. Which could very well be a possibility. When she picked Gavril over me, I went a little—wild. Not that I advertised it, and nobody probably knows really, but I was hurt and angry. I lashed out the only way I felt as though I could.

  “It looks like a bomb’s gone off in here,” she whispers as her eyes take in my room.

  I quickly strip my dirty sheets and make the bed with new, clean ones, ignoring her observation. She stands in the doorway, and I can feel her eyes on my back as I move around, making the bed, and straightening the comforter when I’m finished. I roll up the sheets and throw them in the pile of dirty clothes that are spilling from the open closet door.

  “I’ll call the maid service to come and clean tomorrow,” I murmur.

  “I can clean up,” she shrugs.

  I don’t stop the snort of disbelief that escapes. Oksana balls her fists and places them on her hips as her eyes narrow on me. I pretend as though she doesn’t affect me, but in truth, her attitude is making my cock hard.

  “Lapochka, how often have you cleaned and done laundry?” I ask, trying to fight my smile.

  “Doesn’t matter. I can do it,” she announces.

  Unable to stay across the room from her for a second longer, I quickly close the distance between us and wrap my hands around her waist before I tug her against my chest.

  I drop my chin and press my lips to hers in a soft kiss, only deepenin
g it when she attempts to hide her reaction. She can’t hide the way her muscles relax, or the way her breathing changes. I know that I’m affecting her.

  My hands slip from her waist to grab hold of her ass, and I tug her hips closer, letting my hard cock press against her belly. She gasps, and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue inside of her warm mouth.

  “I can clean,” she whispers after I break away from her.

  “You could, but you don’t have to, and I won’t ask you to,” I murmur as I rest my forehead against hers.

  “Don’t doubt my skills,” she whispers.

  I don’t hold back my laugh; my body shakes with it, and I tip my head to the side.

  “Never, lapochka. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” I rumble as I take a step back from her.

  “Okay,” she sighs.

  We undress, but I don’t even attempt to take anything further. I’m exhausted, and I let the comforts of my own bed pull me into a deep slumber within minutes, my arms wrapped around my wife, who is now here, with me, in my home, and safe.

  What seems like seconds after we fall asleep, Mika’s phone is sounding. He grunts as he rolls over and grabs it, pulling the charger out of the port before he answers. I hear his voice rumble, but I’m too tired to even try and understand his words. Then he turns to me and presses his lips to the side of my neck, before they travel down to my shoulder.

  “I have to go. Quinn is in condo six, and Leonie is in condo four. When you’re up and moving, you can go to either of them. I don’t want you leaving the building, though,” he announces, his voice deep and gravelly.

  “Why can’t I leave?” I ask, turning over to face him.

  I watch as he moves around his room and grabs some underwear and socks before he heads to the bathroom, only stopping to turn and answer me.

  “I’d feel better if you decided to go out with a Byki at your side. Until I have an opportunity to set that up for you, I don’t want you leaving the building.”

  I nod, understanding what he’s saying, and yet, feeling a bit trapped. I know this life. I know that Byki are essential—especially when the threat of danger is looming. I’ve also never really had to worry about having one. Not in Brighton Beach, not when my father is Pasha Vetrov.