Emily
The doctor had okayed me like I knew he would. There were only a few bumps and bruises. Nothing broken. No major injuries.
I stood in the shower. Hot water streamed down my aching body.
What am I going to do with him?
Kazimir was being possessive and overprotective. Part of me loved it. The rest hated it.
I knew he wanted to handle the monkey head situation on his own, but I had to do it myself. One of his brothers was threatening me. The last thing I needed was him swooping in and saving me. It would tell others they could fuck with me behind Kazimir’s back.
It was better for me to find the perpetrators and deal with it on my own.
This morning, I’d met with Boris and Yuri. I had them go down to Kapotnya, a district in the southeast of Moscow. There, they’d recruited more men and women.
The noise of the MKAD had pressed right against the district, one of the reasons the region had been ranked the worst to live in for decades. Even with the windows up, traffic had bustled loud outside of the car.
“In America, I would call this the ghetto.”
“That’s a fair assessment, mysh. Lots of immigrants, refugees, and people who are so broke, they don’t have pets because they would eat them.”
For days, I’d been going to visit the area myself. I wanted to know more about my men and where they’d come from. It was a tough place, rougher than any poor section in New York. Poverty seeped through every corner. Dirt-smudged children walked the streets asking for money with one hand and holding a knife with the other. They never knew if strangers would be friends or foes, and I didn’t blame them.
Half of the kids I saw, I gave money to. Exorbitant amounts that had made their eyes widen. I’d told them to get off the streets but knew they wouldn’t listen. I’d told them about tunnels and sewers to hide in and they’d just looked at me crazy.
The district didn’t remind me of Harlem, but it made me ache. Sometimes, it felt like home. There was connection there with these people—Afro-Russians and immigrants searching for a better life but getting blocked and brutalized in every direction. We barely spoke the same language and had different cultures, but our skin color unified us. We understood how it was to walk in a room and be judged due to the tint of our flesh and the thickness of our hair. We knew about not being able to make it in the world just from that alone. Nothing else.
Not that others didn’t deal with racism or some other form of oppression. But with the Afro-Russians, I felt a vibe. A connection. Some odd bond only created from this concept of color.
We were on the black team.
But could I trust them from that alone?
Plenty black people in my life had torn me down. Many tried to kill me. Others stole. Even my own brother attempted murder. My own father didn’t believe me when I was being raped by his best friend.
It was why I’d gotten in touch with Maxwell after the monkey heads. He hadn’t responded. Instead he’d texted, explaining there was some emergency with Misha he was helping him with.
Me: What emergency?
Maxwell: If I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.
Me: When are you coming to Moscow?
Maxwell: You miss me?
Me: I need you.
Me: And yes. I miss you.
Maxwell: Give me a few days or maybe a week. I have to finish this for Mischa.
That was the last we spoke. I had no idea what was going on in St. Petersburg. Kazimir thought Maxwell was with Valentina. Meanwhile, Misha was doing something with Maxwell and ignoring Kazimir’s phone calls.
What’s going on with them? I need more people I can trust around me.
If some of the Bratva had a problem with my dark skin, I didn’t want Maxwell being too far.
Would someone try to kill him just because he was black? Jesus. I thought leaving America would give us a break from that. But, of course not. Russia isn’t known for its gentle love for all.
Now, I had added women to my crew. Sisters and cousins from my men. And these females were nothing to fuck with. They all had their battle wounds and scars.
Out of all my new hires, four had stood out.
Since helping me and Kazimir kill Sasha, Boris and Yuri remained with me.
Boris was the most loyal. Kazimir had called him my little dog. Most of the time, Boris could be found planted outside my bedroom. He shadowed me and slept in an extra bedroom downstairs. The only time he showered was when I did.
He’s probably showering right now.
In these past days, I’d learned Boris had a rough childhood. His mother was a Nigerian immigrant who’d cleaned for a Bratva member’s house. The father began a sexual relationship with her, although Boris wasn’t sure if it was rape or romantic. That question in itself possibly kept him up at night.
When his mother became pregnant with him, the Bratva member quit all contact and fired her. He and his mother struggled in the district all his life. I’d met her once. She’d sat us down and served shchi, a soup made from fermented cabbage and included potatoes, carrots, onions, and chicken.
I’d thanked her for her hospitality and promised to visit again.
Other than that, I was still learning Boris. He loved to wear orange and did so whenever I didn’t want him in a suit.
Yuri remained a mystery. Low cut. Chocolate skin. Massive chest and arms but chicken legs. He could probably run, but it wouldn’t be hard to knock him down. Didn’t matter because he had skills with a gun.
However, Yuri was shady at times. He disappeared a lot. He rubbed his nose too much. I wondered if he had a habit—cocaine or something worse. Powder was expensive for someone living on the streets.
I’ll have Maxwell watch him when he gets back.
There were two females who also stood out—Lemon and Blue.
I’d met Blue when we looked for weapons in Kapotnya. She’d been posted in Boris’s cousins’ basement—skin the color of dark honey, no make-up, high cheekbones. Gorgeous. Spectacular dark eyes with long lashes.
I figured her nickname dealt with her hair. Sky blue braids hung in the center of her head like a long mohawk. Her hair had been shaved on both sides.
When we came to buy more weapons, Blue had broken down each weapon with a skill that reminded me of Xavier. And like him, her second hobby was hacking and security attacks. I grabbed her instantly, offered her money, and told her to come to the property the next day.
Boris had appeared uncomfortable.
Lemon was the other woman I was slowly thinking I could trust, and the only full-blooded white girl on the crew. Again, these were all gut feelings. My brain had no real assessments yet, but my gut said these were my inner circle. The ones I could take on my journey in Russia.
Lemon was my nickname for her. Her real name was Lemonotsky, but I’d asked politely if I could call her Lemon. She’d smiled and gave me a wink of approval.
Although the name was ripe and sweet, Lemon was not. She had cold, pale skin. A bald head. She towered over most of my men at 6’7. Her birth home was Siberia. Lemon looked like she’d learned to hold a gun since she was three and had probably stabbed someone at four, maybe even choked a man to death at seven. With her bare hands. Possibly buried the body after.
Maxwell will love Lemon. She’s got character.
I didn’t know her age, but her whole head of hair was a silvery gray. I wondered if it was real or if she’d dyed it. Something had happened to her right eye. A yellow leather eye patch covered it.
Lemon was a bad bitch who made me nervous at times. She’d be hard to knock down. If her and I had to go at it, I didn’t know who would make it out alive. I think that was why I liked her. She was a mountain of a woman, and I was glad to have her on my side.
She’d been in the back of a kitchen in some dusty restaurant in the downtown Moscow as the place’s dishwasher. Boris had brought me to her. Apparently, many hadn’t taken her seriously but his crew. From time to time, she helped t
hem do odd jobs.
New men or new strangers. I need them to help me with this monkey guy, but can I trust them? Will they have my back?
That was where Kazimir’s logic poked at me the most. He trusted none of the new men and women around me. He didn’t care about our bond or strife. They were strangers regardless of their background and color. And, because of that, he wanted me to have minimal contact with them.
I can’t believe Kazimir just walked into my office and hit Anton. I’ll have to stop that. But how?
In the shower, I ran my fingers through my wet hair.
Maybe...Kaz is right. I’m moving too fast, surrounding myself around all these people. But some of these finds are good. Right?
I thought of how easily Kazimir had manhandled Anton when it had taken all my energy to fight the big guy. Kazimir had fought with a fluid ease. Stripped to the waist, his muscles and skin gleamed in the basement’s light. I didn’t like the way all my newly hired women drooled over him. Even Lemon practically had her tongue out.
He has to stop hitting my men and getting half-naked in front of my women.
I shut off the shower, ready to face Kazimir. I’d been mad earlier. How dare he march into my office and stop the fight? How dare he start his own? And then all his yelling.
I was showing them what I’m capable of. I was letting them know the lion is with me because I can kick a motherfucker’s ass. Not just because the pussy is awesome.
I grinned.
And it is awesome.
Feeling better, I laughed at myself and stepped out of the shower.
To my shock, Kazimir was standing by the sink, leaning against it. He only wore gray boxer briefs. Steam swirled around his muscular legs. I followed the path up to his thighs and noticed his erection pushing against his briefs.
It looks like you’ve calmed down too.
Something grew in the space between us, and it wasn’t tension. It was lust mingling with love. Arousal rising with passion. It tightened the muscles in my stomach and at the base of my throat. I swallowed as my anger began to dissolve.
I forced myself to move my attention away from that thick cock, up past his layered abs, and well beyond that sculpted chest. I directed my view to that gorgeous face.
The heat in Kaz’s gaze swept over me, almost leaving me shaking. Trembling, if I was honest.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Long enough.” His tone was calm. “How was your shower?”
“It was good.” I reached out for my towel.
He moved my hand away. “You won’t need that. I like it when you’re wet.”
I curled my lips into a smile. “And I like it when you’re naked. Why didn’t you come into the shower?”
“Because I’m still mad.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbed the towel, and walked off. “Then, I’m still mad too.”
A dark chuckle left him as he grabbed me from behind, stopping my exit from the bathroom. Slowly, he brushed his lips along my cheek and pressed his hard cock against my ass.
He whispered, “It’s time for our discussion.”
“Maybe we should fuck first.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you might not like what I have to say.”
He yanked the towel off and turned me around. “Slow down.”
“Slow down?”
“With your men. With whatever your plans are.”
“Fine, but you could’ve said that without punching my men.”
“I only punched one this time. Be happy.”
I stepped back. “There won’t be another time.”
No traces of humor lay on his face. “There will be another time. I love you. I want you safe. If that means punching your men occasionally, I will.”
His words made me feel invincible, beautiful, and adored. But he could not go around knocking out my men.
Damn you, Kaz. You’re not fighting fair.
I tried to continue to stand my ground. “But—”
“That’s final.” He lowered his head and kissed the sensitive spot on my neck.
Against my will, my breath rushed out. Kazimir had learned all the ways to pleasure me. He could do so with ease, whether I was angry or not.
I inched away.
He prowled forward. “Any more questions?”
“No, but I do have concerns.” I rushed off and opened the door, needing to escape him. If I let him touch me any more, he’d get his way with no problem.
He fell into step behind me. Annoyance laced his voice. “Concerns?”
I turned around and gave us some space, but I was naked and vulnerable, and he was inches in front of me, giving me no room.
Intensity blazed in his eyes. Inhaling me, he whispered. “What are your concerns, mysh?”
“If you can hit my men, then surely I can hit yours.”
He leaned closer. His warm breath touched my collarbone.
Staring at him, being bound by his gaze, twisted me. With the way he studied me, it was like Kaz had full access to my inner thoughts. Like there would be no outmaneuvering him. Those eyes said, “Give up! Why fight it?”
“You hitting my men? Hmmm.” His mouth curved and laughter glittered in his eyes. “Is that a question?”
“It’s a statement.”
He groaned and lifted me up in seconds.
Breathless, I asked, “What are you doing?”
“Let’s talk about your concerns over here.” He lowered me onto the bed and then came down with me. His scent and power surrounded my space. “If you want to hit them, go ahead.”
I blinked.
“Of course, you should have a reason to do it.”
“And you had a reason?” I asked.
“Yes. That giant idiot hit you.”
“I asked him to hit me.”
“Then don’t.” His command came out like slow fire, burning my anger away and causing me to melt. And then Kazimir devoured my mouth, ending our discussion for now. He knew how much I loved his tongue. He knew how addicted I was to his body. All it took was that and I knew the argument was over.
Does he know how easy he can make me bend?
My slowly rising anger broke away. I shoved my doubts and fears to the side, for now. I knew the man I’d fallen in love with. He wouldn’t be easy or reasonable when it came to protecting me. Neither would I when it came to having his back.
Somehow, we had to compromise and not compromise at the same time. Our egos were too big for anything else.
How will we make it?
Kazimir swallowed that thought away.
Who cares? I love him. We can survive anything.
Giving up, I yanked down his boxer briefs, freeing his cock for only my eyes.
He pulled me to the center of the bed.
Before I could say another word, Kazimir settled his body on mine and kissed me until I couldn’t see straight. His hand fisted my hair, tugging harder the longer we kissed. I gasped in pleasured pain and he immediately let go. He kissed his way down my body, tasting me intimately until I cried out his name.
His fingers slid between my legs, stroked me. Caressed me. Had my fingers twisting the bed covers. Lust. Desire. Hunger. It was all a fire rising within my core, and he stoked the flames.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
Without hesitation, he put his cock right at the entrance of my body. He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I’m sorry.”
Shock hit me.
I swallowed. “I...I’m sorry too.”
“Don’t hire anymore. No more men, women, or animals.”
“Animals?”
“One must cover all grounds with you.”
With him naked and having me so hot, I no longer wanted to talk about our latest argument. He wanted control, and I craved independence. This would be the thing we battled over. Some days, he would win. Sometimes, I would be victorious. Presently, I was giving him his way because he’d made some points.
I had employed many more than I knew he would be comfortable with, and I knew damn well he’d be pissed about my fighting.
I let out a long breath. “I’ll turn your cameras back on.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Good. Perhaps I should’ve told you that I was putting cameras there in the first place.”
“Perhaps,” I whispered and then added, “Don’t take your shirt off in front of my women anymore.”
He gave me a wicked smile. “Why not?”
“Just don’t.”
“Then, I won’t.”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “We’re learning.”
“We are.”
And then, he pierced me with his cock. And then, there was nothing else to say, nothing else to discuss.
He captured my mouth in a heated, lusty kiss and just like that, Kaz shifted the balance of power over to him. I knew it and didn’t care.
Our bodies merged. I moaned from the delicious pressure of him moving inside me, sinking and diving deep within the softest part of me. Going where no one else could ever go. United and connected.
I gazed into his eyes. Our views locked. Pleasure pooled within his eyes as he pushed in deeper, ripping a moan from my throat.
He groaned in Russian, “My naughty mouse.”
I grabbed his huge shoulders, needing to hold onto him even more. I rocked my hips toward him, taking in every thrust, every push and pull of his cock. Every stretch. Every feel of him expanding and filling me.
His gaze never left mine as he increased his speed, going faster and harder. Forcing me to lose control. I turned animal. Wild. Fully letting go. Only he could get me to do it. Only he could have me close my eyes and take it all from him.
“Kaz!”
He dove his head down to my breasts and sucked in a nipple. Somehow, he kept that perfect rhythm as he lapped at my breasts. His teeth nipped in delicious ways. My body blazed on fire.
“Oh, Kaz!”
My body erupted. Pleasure blasted through my flesh. He held onto me, his hands possessive, his gaze piercing. He thrust in me.
I wrapped my legs around that thick waist. “Oh!”
He groaned in ecstasy. His movements roughened. His hips rocked. His cock pounded my center.
“Only you,” he grumbled as he came, bucking into me harder and lifting me up so that all I had was him to anchor me.
Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three) Page 8
