Indulgence: A Russian Mafia Romance (Grekov Mafia Book 1) (5 page)

Being that close to Nikola was driving me insane but running would probably lead to being chased. Instead, I padded out of the bathroom calmly and slowly, as if his being there didn’t bother me. I headed for my bedroom, praying that he wouldn’t follow me… but a part of me – the part that remembered the heat and passion of his lips and fingers – hoped that he would.

Slamming the door, I slipped on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt as I internally argued with myself. I shouldn’t want this man. He didn’t have a place in my world, I didn’t have a place in his either, but the attraction I felt and the intense chemistry we shared was palpable. He was a murderer and a drug-dealing mobster and the thought of letting this man worship my body both excited and sickened me. What the hell was I supposed to do? Should I fight the urges pulsing maddeningly within me or give in and enjoy it while it lasted?

Pulling my still-damp long blonde hair into messy bun, I looked in the mirror and wondered again what the hell to do. Nothing came to mind. I took a deep breath, then another, and decided to do my job, no matter what it took to shut down the drug-running operation the Grekovs were responsible for.

When I entered the living room, Nikola was standing in front of my bookcase, looking at a copy of
The Godfather
. I wanted to laugh. The DEA people who set up the apartment had included it as a little inside joke. Seeing a Russian mobster thumbing through the pages amused me. Figures that book, of all the ones littering the bookcase, would attract his attention.

“Find something you like?” I asked curiously with a raised brow.

“Maybe. You like this stuff?” He held up the book in question.

“I do. I find the danger quite appealing. You?”

“Danger huh? You are an intriguing woman. Control is more appealing to me.” And once again, that wicked sexy grin was back. An image from our time in the bathroom at the club exploded in my mind and I had to hold back a groan. This man was killing me.

“I can see that about you,” I said, hoping he couldn’t tell what he was doing to me. “Why are you here?”

“I told you. I wanted to bring your credit card to you.”

“Yeah, I got that. But you’re still here. So again, why?”

“Come to dinner with me. Tomorrow night.” It wasn’t a question.

“Okay.” Damn! That came out quick. Way to sound easy. It was my job to get close to him but did I have to seem so damn eager about it? It was that smooth-as-silk voice, the commanding tone. He had told me to have dinner with him, with no thought of me saying no, and I couldn’t help but respond to that confidence, that power. I couldn’t help but wonder what else he might be able to talk me into doing. Damn again! Nikola Grekov was more than dangerous. He was alluring in a way that made me feel weak and unable to fend off the emotions he provoked.

He headed for the door, not saying another word. I stood in the middle of the living room, stunned but not altogether shocked. He’d obviously got the answer he wanted, and now he was done. He put his hand on the doorknob and looked back at me. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Don’t be late. Goodnight, RAdost’ moyA.” He tossed
The Godfather
at me. Caught off-guard, I fumbled to catch it.

And then he was gone; gone as quickly as he’d arrived, like a shadow in the night. And what had he called me? My joy? Shivering, I ran my hands over my arms. He hadn’t touched me, hadn’t tried anything with me at all. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed about that. Then it hit me. I had a date with the son of a mafia boss.

CHAPTER NINE

The next morning I met with Agent Green. It was time to get our ducks in a row and make this case. Not knowing how much longer Nikola would be in New York, we had to act fast or else I was going to be making a trip to Russia. Part of me was excited for the chance to visit another country, but the possible danger panicked me. I was sure that making that trip would require living amongst the Bratva. I wasn’t sure which was worse; being that close to Nikola or the Bratva. Either way, it wouldn’t be a vacation where I could enjoy the countryside like a typical tourist.

Also, being alone with Nikola for too long was not an option. It was dangerous for two reasons: One, if my cover was blown, I was dead meat, and two, I couldn’t trust myself around him. I hated to admit that fact to myself but it was true.

“Morning, Mr. Green,’ I said as he let me into his apartment.

The director smiled. “We’re in the field, Corsica. You can call me James. Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I had a visitor last night.” James – that was going to take some getting used to – looked up. His expression hinted that he had an idea about who the visitor was. “Nikola came by. He returned my credit card.”

James picked up his phone and punched in a number. “Grekov showed up at Corsica’s last night.” Then there was silence. “How’d he get past the cameras?” Silence. “Well, look into it. She’s okay... this time.” He snapped the phone closed and looked at me.

“Well… he asked me... well... told me really, that we were going to dinner tonight at eight. I don’t know where, though.”

James nodded. “Good. That’s really good. Be careful, though. He’s dangerous. I know I don’t have to tell you that. Just keep your eyes and ears open.”

“Yes sir. I will. I was thinking I should prepare for the trip to Russia; get him used to the idea now. Not in a pushy way, just small talk you know. Never been, always wanted to go type of thing. Covering all the bases… just in case.”

“Don’t push too much,” James advised. “He’ll get antsy and disappear on us. We can’t afford that. Just treat it as a normal date. We should limit our contact for the time being.”

“Right.”

With the plan – what little of it there was – in place, I headed back to my apartment to get ready. With a serious case of nerves setting in, I stood in front of my overflowing closet, riffling through the expensive, yet too-revealing, dresses the DEA had selected for me. It was seven o’clock on the dot and I had no clue where Nikola was taking me on this so-called date. Deciding what to wear was driving me insane.

Running my fingers over the material of a black and white dress with slits down the back, I imagined Nikola’s fingers delving between those openings, finding my naked skin beneath the warmth of his hands, pressing into me, driving me mad with want. The thought of such a dangerous man pawing at me caused me to shiver, my nipples pebbling. I pulled the dress from its hanger and slipped it on, grabbing a pair of black heels to go with it. I looked in the mirror. It was less revealing than the others, but still very sexy. As I slid my heels on, I heard a loud knock at the door. It was expected but his arrival still made my pulse race.

“Just a minute,” I called out, making my way to the door. I opened it and felt my knees go weak.

Nikola stood there, dressed in a stunning black suit that molded to his equally stunning and magnificent body, his silver eyes fixed on me as if they could see to the heart of me. After a few seconds passed, he grinned. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Oh! Sorry. Please come in. I’m almost ready.” I stepped back from the door as he sauntered past me, his power and commanding spirit filling the small room.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice deep and sensuous. I could feel the heat rising up my neck, burning its way to my cheeks as his hands grasped my hips, pulling me against his hard body. Once again, my body took charge, forcing the agent under lock and key as his lips crashed against mine in such a way that sparks of lust seared their way straight to my core. I melted into him, forgetting my purpose – my reason – for being in his presence. Moaning as his tongue danced erotically with mine, it became clear this mission was going to test me in every way possible.

“Nikola,” I said, pressing my palms against his muscular chest and pushing out of his grasp, feeling, and missing, his warm body immediately. “Let me grab my purse and we can go.” I shouldn’t want this man, but for whatever reason, I was finding it increasingly difficult to fight the natural urges sparking wildly within me. He was danger incarnate, and I was a moth driven to his flame.

Slapping me on the ass, Nikola growled, “Hurry RAdost’ moyA, I do not like to be kept waiting.” Dear God! The sting on my ass cheek felt so good. I had never been spanked before, and I was shocked to discover there was a part of me that wanted him to spank me again and again until I begged him to stop… and then begged him for more.

With glossy eyes, I squeaked a quick, “Yes sir,” then hurried down the hall to my bedroom, giving myself a once over in the mirror as I grabbed my black clutch. I hurried quickly to the living room. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Let’s go, RAdost’ moyA.” His voice was thick and heady as he placed his hand on the small of my back.

The heat of his hand against my back almost had me squirming. I half-feared, half-yearned for him to do something in the elevator. Fortunately – or not – he was a perfect gentleman during the ride down.

Stepping into the night air, I came face to face with a large, fierce-looking man with a scar on his left cheek. I could only imagine how he must have acquired an injury like that. He looked like the kind of man that killed for a living, and considering my present company, he probably did just that. The scar-faced man opened the door of a black Range Rover with all the bells and whistles. It glistened under the street light, ready to thrust me into a world of danger and intrigue, like the man by my side.

Nikola helped me into the SUV, giving me a boost that sent naughty chills racing within me. I didn’t know what to expect from a date with this man, but I was sure it would be more interesting than any date I’d been on before. The drive to the restaurant was painfully quiet. I stole a few glances at the driver, trying to place him from the numerous pictures that littered the Grekov file that I had perused countless times in recent weeks. Whoever he was, he had yet to fall onto the DEAs radar. I made a mental note to learn what I could about him.

The restaurant, Pravda, was located on Lafayette Street, an area I never visited when I lived in New York growing up. Although I’d never eaten here, I’d read countless articles applauding the success and tasty Russian cuisine offered. The foodie in me stood at attention, eager to see what the fuss was all about.

“Have you ever been here?” Nikola asked.

“I haven’t. I’ve heard the food is divine, though,” I said with a smile as he led me inside.

“That it is. Very authentic.”

I quickly glanced around the place, taking in my surroundings. It wasn’t a ritzy place at all, which in some ways shocked me. I had thought a man of Nikola’s wealth, however he obtained it, would prefer a high-class restaurant. Pravda, which meant truth, was a relaxing little hole in the wall place; my kind of place. Immediately, I felt the tension drain out of me. Maybe this wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as I had imagined.

“Right this way, Mr. Grekov,” a young hostess said. “Your table is ready.” We were led to a private table in the corner of the room, separated from the wandering eyes of the other patrons.

Nikola nodded at the approaching waitress as we slipped into the booth. The lighting was dim throughout, making you feel as though you are attempting to hide in plain sight.

“Will you be needing menus tonight, sir?” the waitress asked.

“No. We will have the oysters and fried calamari… and a bottle of your premium vodka. Bring us an iced rack while we wait.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” the young lady rushed off with the order, returning almost instantly with an iced container filled with six shots of chilled vodka. I wasn’t a big drinker so the thought of consuming so much alcohol worried the hell out of me, the fear of getting drunk and spilling my secrets flashing across my mind like a thunderous lightning storm. If I got too wasted, would I blab the truth? Dear god! I hoped I could keep it together. Maybe if I just sipped the drink slowly until the food arrived, everything would be alright.

“You will enjoy this, Da? It is the best way to try many kinds of Vodka at once.” A wicked smile crept onto his devilishly handsome face and I swooned.

Nodding, I watched as he retrieved two shot glasses from the ice. “This is Purity. And this is Russian Standard.” He lifted Purity to his lips, taking a small sip before passing it to me. The liquid could only be described as a cold fire that burned its way luxuriously down my throat. “That’s quite good,” I said. “I like it.”

“Da. It is one of my favorites.” Nikola placed his large hand on my thigh, giving it a light squeeze as he grabbed another shot of Vodka from the container. His fingers lazily drew small circles on my thigh and – God help me – I loved it. Downing another shot, I reveled in the warmth of his fingers as they inched higher and higher, reaching the hem of my dress. I squirmed like a virgin as he continued to tease me mercilessly.

With the vodka weakening my resolve and his fingertips grazing the thin material of my panties, my legs spread just enough to give him better access to my already-moistened core. I gasped as his fingers brushed over my swollen clit, circling it slowly at first, then faster and faster, driving me wild. My hips inched forward, pressing into his fingers, needing more.

Nikola moved the thin material of my panties aside, his fingers continuing their assault, strumming my swollen clit. My fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard my hands cramped, I whimpered as his thick finger slid between my liquor-coated folds, the pressure building to a crescendo. He drove his finger in and out, my muscles clamping down, spasming uncontrollably, until an orgasm more powerful than any I had ever experienced crashed over me. My body hummed as he slid his glistening finger from my pussy, leaving me breathless.