Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) (24 page)

Kirill exits the plane without another word. I watch him as he goes, and I am shocked. I could not imagine Emiliya doing such a thing as he claims his woman had done. Taking her own life, and a life we created together as well.

Maybe Emiliya is strong. Perhaps she has hidden strength deep inside of her that is waiting to burst through her soft exterior. I try to shake thoughts of Kirill’s confession out of my head as I stand, Emiliya still wrapped in my arms as I exit the airplane. I am tired of flying, tired of worrying, and plain exhausted.

Once I situate Emiliya in my lap in the black SUV, I am on countdown until we arrive at our new luxury apartment. I don’t close my eyes for a second, knowing that I will be fast asleep if I do. I need to stay alert. I trust no one at this point.

Dimitri was severely disturbed, turning into something unrecognizable because of his perceived rejection with Maryia. Essentially, he signed her death because he didn’t get what he wanted—fucking childish prick.

I take Emiliya up to our new home, not bothering to turn on a single light. I stumble toward the bedroom and gently lay her down on the bed. She is dirty and her hair is a tangled mess; but with the moonlight shining down on her in this safe bed, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

I slowly strip my clothes from my body and climb into the bed behind her. Wrapping my arms around her body, throwing my leg over her thighs. Finally, after seventy-two straight hours of no sleep, I fall into slumber with my Emiliya right next to me.

What feels like mere minutes later, I roll over to discover that the bed is empty. I sit straight up, my breath heavy and sweat beginning to pour off of my skin. My eyes dart around the room. There is no sign of Emiliya, and I go into a full blown panic.

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 Russian 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.