10. Dimitri
10
DIMITRI
WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?
T he last thing in the world that I should do is kiss Evelyn. But with her so close, so warm, her wrist trapped in my fingers and her sweet voice flinging barbs at me, the only thing I can think as I watch her argue is that I need those lips against mine.
It’s not even that I want her quiet. For some reason, I feel sure that I could listen to this woman yell at me all day, even though I’ve never tolerated anything like it before. I just fucking need to kiss her.
I need to find out what she tastes like. I need?—
I surge forward as my mouth captures hers, the only thought in my head is how goddamn soft her lips are as I press her back against the door, my body tight with need and my cock rock-hard against her thigh. The sound she makes when I kiss her, half-protest and half-desire, inflames me.
She feels so fucking good against me. Soft and lush, her wrist fragile in my fingers, her full breasts pressed up against my chest, and I swear I can feel every inch of her even through the layers of clothes between us. I sweep my tongue over her lips, tasting her, tugging her wrist up above her head as I pin her against the wood, and I don’t even fucking care that Gus is still standing right on the other side.
I can’t recall ever needing any woman as badly as I need her in this moment. My cock is throbbing, desire pulsing through me like a second heartbeat, and I sweep my tongue over the seam of her lips again, aching for her to open up to me. Every thought is gone from my head except one—I need Evelyn, and I need her now. Up against this door, on the floor of the entryway—I don’t care, so long as I can keep tasting her. So long as I can find out what she feels like enveloping my cock as I fuck her.
Evelyn’s mouth parts, but not to deepen the kiss. For one brief second, I think I can feel her softening against me—and then her teeth sink into my lower lip hard as she reaches up with her free hand and shoves against my chest with all of her strength.
Shocked, I stagger backwards, tasting blood. Evelyn looks like she’s ready to spit fire, her expression murderous as she stares at me.
“You really think I’m going to come stay with you after that ?” she hisses. “Did you forget about our fucking agreement, Dimitri? How dare you—how fucking dare?—”
I hold up my hands, trying to think through the fog of lust that’s settled over me. My lip is bleeding and my cock is still rock hard, and all I can think is that I’d let her bite me again if I could kiss her one more time.
“Come stay with me or don’t,” I manage, taking another step back and dropping my hands to my sides. “But Gus is staying, Evelyn. You can’t defend yourself if that man, or someone else from the Crows, shows up here. And I promised to protect you. You can accept that, or you can back out of our deal, but if I walk away from here and Gus is with me, we’re done.”
I’m calling her bluff, and I think she knows it. I’ve never wanted to do it less. Right now, the thought of her backing out of our agreement, with the taste of her still on my lips and the feeling of her body against mine seared into me, all I want is to never let her out of my sight again. I’m not sure I can let her back out any longer. If I were to leave with Gus, if I were to leave her alone, the danger to her would be monumental. And I’m not sure I could live with myself if I left her in that kind of danger.
I see the moment it hits her. What it means for her, if I walk away from our deal. “You mean it,” she whispers, and there’s hurt in her voice. I’ve hurt her, by telling her I’m willing to abandon her and her dreams of restoring her boutique, and I feel a sharp jab of pain in my chest at the realization.
But it’s worth it, if it keeps her safe.
“I do,” I tell her firmly, doubling down, and Evelyn presses her lips together, her eyes suddenly shiny.
“Fine,” she says, that one sharp word telling me that a divide has opened up between us. A gulf that I might not ever be able to bridge. But in the end, considering how badly I want her, maybe it’s better that way.
“Good.” I bite out the word just as sharply, and her gaze holds mine, her eyes narrowing as she realizes she’s not going to win this battle of wills. She’s not going to convince me to back down. And as she does, she shoves herself away from the door, stalking towards her kitchen.
“If he’s staying, you might as well show him in,” she throws over her shoulder, slamming drawers as she starts to rummage through them. “Let him see where he’ll be staying.”
I’m so relieved that she’s acquiesced that I don’t hesitate. I open the door, motioning for Gus to come in, which he does without a word. He steps inside, and Evelyn turns to look at me, a teabag in her hand.
“You can go,” she says dismissively. “Now that my guard dog is here.”
There’s another flurry of barking from somewhere, as if a dog in the building heard her say exactly that and took offense to it. I look at Gus, whose face is perfectly impassive.
“I’ll make sure she’s safe, boss,” he says gruffly, and Evelyn lets out a dramatic gasp.
“Oh my god, he speaks.”
“Don’t be rude, l’vitsa .” I glance at her. “This man is going to take a bullet for you, if need be. At least be polite to him.”
She looks slightly chagrined at that, although she’s still looking at me as if she wants to slap me, or maybe bite me again. The thought makes my cock throb uncomfortably, and I clear my throat, looking at Gus.
“Keep me aware of what’s going on,” I tell him firmly. “Anything that you see or hear, let me know. If there are any problems, let me know. Don’t hesitate.”
Gus nods. “Got it, boss.”
Evelyn has already turned back to her tea-making, pointedly ignoring me. I know trying to talk to her further isn’t going to go well, and frankly, I can’t think straight to even begin to know what to say. So instead, I turn on my heel, stalking out of the apartment and motioning for Vik to follow me.
“Where to?” my driver asks as I slide back into the car, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking of going back to what I was doing before Evelyn called—which was sitting in my office at my father’s mansion, dealing with paperwork. I can’t fathom going back to doing that right now, with my head a fog of lust and my cock still rock-hard from that kiss. I can still taste my own blood on my tongue, and every time I remember her biting me it brings my erection back full-force.
I already know I’m going to spend our entire marriage getting far too acquainted with my own hand. The thought is almost painful, my erection straining against the fly of my pants in protest, but I meant what I said to her. I don’t want to be a man who cheats on his wife, regardless of the circumstances of the marriage. It’s part of what drove me to flee my potential engagement to Nicci.
I’m not married yet. It’s splitting hairs, and I’m well aware that sleeping with someone else during my engagement would still, in most circumstances, count as cheating. But I’m desperate, and I can’t fucking think past the steady pulse of lust throbbing in my cock.
If I’m going to spend months or years with a cold bed, I might as well get it out of my system, first.
“Head to the Vault ,” I tell the driver, leaning back in my seat as Vik slides into the passenger’s side, having made certain we weren’t followed. “I’ve got some business to take care of there.”
The Vault is an establishment my father created some years ago, one of many legitimate businesses that cover for our more illegal dealings. It’s a black-card member club, one that offers exclusive membership to less than a hundred members, for an exorbitant yearly fee, and provides them with top-of-the-line entertainment any time of the day or night. Drinks, food, women, spa services, pleasures of any kind—they can all be had within the walls of the Vault, and right now, I know exactly which pleasures I’m interested in.
The kind that I’m about to cut myself off from, once I make vows to Evelyn.
Desire pulses through me, on the verge of painful as we drive across the city to the club. I take the elevator up from the parking garage, Vik at my back, and step into the cool, lemongrass scented lobby of the Vault.
Inside, the light is low and warm, the walls a soothing dark green with dark wood wainscoting and gleaming dark wooden floors. A pretty, slender woman in a black pencil skirt and white sleeveless blouse with straight dark hair below her shoulders smiles at me from behind the desk, her expression calm and pleasant.
“May I see your membership ID, Mr.---”
“Yashkov.” As soon as I say my name, she straightens a little more, a nervous smile on her lips.
“I’m sorry for not recognizing you, Mr. Yashkov. Of course, go right in.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” I tell her with a reassuring smile. “I haven’t been by in some time. My security will be coming with me,” I add, gesturing towards Vik, and she bobs her head quickly.
“Of course.”
I walk through the dark lacquered door at the end of the lobby, up a flight of stairs directly to the left in the small room just beyond it with the coat check, to the second floor. This is the first of four floors, with the expansive lounge, the club room just beyond, and the smaller private rooms to the back of the floor. The second floor has the spa and spa lounge, and the third is the hotel floor, with a gourmet restaurant and bedrooms available for guests to stay for an additional fee, with or without company—also for an additional fee according to their menu of services.
“You can stay at the bar,” I tell Vik. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Vik nods, heading for the circular bar to the right of the lounge, near the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the cityscape beyond. I head towards the back, to one of the private rooms.
The bouncer at the front of the hall nods to me as I walk past. I go to one of the rooms at the very back, a small space with an oval stage in the center that has a pole running up to the ceiling, and a long leather couch that takes up most of the back wall. There’s a small table to one side with a phone and a leather- backed book, as well as a clothbound menu with the list of drinks that can be ordered and brought to the room.
The leather-bound book has photos and services for all of the girls available on the day shift, but I don’t need to bother looking through it. I reach for the phone, dialing 0 for the house manager.
“Hello?” Celia’s bright voice comes across the line, and I lean back, feeling the relief of knowing that I’ll shortly have what I need, sent directly to me without question. There are definite perks to the life I live, and this is one of them.
“It’s Dimitri. I’m in the blue room. Send Miri back with a vodka lime, please.”
“Of course, sir.”
Ten minutes later, the door opens, and one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever known walks in. Miri knows me—we’ve spent time together before, and I see her eyes light up when she sees me sitting on the couch. Her strawberry blonde hair is up in a high ponytail today, her powder-blue lingerie suiting her rosy complexion perfectly, from the lace push-up bra edged in silver to the lace panties that sit just on the edge of her sharp hip bones. She’s wearing silver high-heels, the drink in her hand, and as she sways towards me with a smile on her lips I feel my cock—which hasn’t softened since I left Evelyn’s—throb.
Miri offers a full list of services, most of which I’ve availed myself of before. I can have her any way I want. If I want her to dance for me while I get myself off, she’ll do that. I could have her mouth, her pussy, her ass, or all three, one after another. And, since I’m one of the owners of the club, it won’t even cost me, aside from the more than generous tip I always leave her.
The tip, I know, is why she’s smiling at me. The fact that she knows that not only will I make sure she gets off, too, I’ll leave her at least five thousand on the side table when I go. That’s why she’s so pleased to see me.
Not because she wants me. Not because she lusts after me, badly enough to make herself angry, badly enough to hurt me to get me away from her so she can stop feeling it. Not like Evelyn.
Because this is her job, and I’ll pay her better than most clients she’ll see today.
“Mr. Yashkov?” Miri looks at me from where she’s standing, still holding my drink, her expression faltering slightly. She can tell something is off, that I’m not entirely here. And as I look at her, I try to picture doing any of the things I might want with her.
I could tell her to get on her knees and suck me off. I could even close my eyes and picture Evelyn while she does it. I could have her sit on my lap and bounce on my cock until I get the release I so desperately need. But every fantasy that flits through my head leaves me hollow.
Hollow, and guilty, despite the fact that Evelyn and I aren’t married yet, and nothing between us is real.
“Set the drink there.” I nod to the table next to me. “And then you can go.”
“Mr. Yashkov—” Miri breaks off, disappointment clear on her face. But I know why she’s disappointed, and I reach into my jacket pocket, slipping out a billfold.
“Here.” I hand her ten folded hundred dollar bills. “I’ll leave an additional tip for you on my way out. Just leave the drink there.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, but I see the instant disappointment turns to relief that she quickly tries to hide, and I know that was the right call. She’s relieved that she won’t have to fuck me, that she’s going to get paid without having to give me any kind of sexual favors. And that’s all I need to know that Miri isn’t what I want right now.
Whatever pleasure she could give me, it wouldn’t compare to that kiss with Evelyn. My cock aches, remembering it, and I barely make it until the door closes behind Miri before my hand is at my zipper, dragging it down.
I reach for my drink with one hand, tossing the vodka back as I palm my cock free with the other, my fingers wrapping around it as I let out a hiss of pleasure at the relief of skin on skin. With the burn of the vodka still in my throat, I find the bottle of lube tucked discreetly on one side of the table, and uncap it, letting go of my cock only long enough to pour some into my palm before wrapping my fist around my shaft again.
There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way I get myself off. There might have been times in the past where I’ve taken my time jerking off, wanting to drag out the pleasure, but the only thing in my mind right now is how badly I need to come. I lean back, spreading my legs as I cup my balls with my other hand, my fist dragging up and down my stiff length in harsh strokes as I summon the memory of Evelyn’s mouth under mine.
Her lips were so fucking soft. All of her—even under all of the layers of clothing between us, I could feel her breasts against my chest, the curve of her hips against mine, and I could imagine what she would feel like if I stripped it all away. How fucking good she would feel against me. I think of her in that velvet dress the first night we met, the silk dress she wore to the party last night, the curve of her spine under my palm, the fragile shape of her wrist in my fingers. My slick cock throbs in my fist, my balls tight as my orgasm builds, and I suck my lower lip between my teeth, biting down where Evelyn did so I can taste that kiss again as I come.
I barely manage to grab tissues before it hits. That heat at the base of my spine explodes, pleasure bursting through me in one white-hot moment of bliss as I feel the cum spurt from my tip, one hand cupping over it as my other strokes feverishly, imagining that it’s Evelyn that I’m thrusting inside, her legs around my waist as I fuck her up against that door, pounding into her with the same relentless ferocity that I’m stroking myself with right now.
In that moment, as I come thinking of her, I’d give anything to fuck her. Anything to find out what her naked body really feels like against mine, underneath me, wrapped around me as I come inside of her. The orgasm washes over me with a force that leaves me dizzy, stronger than I can remember coming in a long time, and I’m breathing hard as it ebbs, my cock clenched in my fist as it starts to soften and I try to catch my breath.
So much for blowing off some steam before the wedding, I think grimly as I clean up, tucking myself back in. This was the first in a long line of days that I’m sure will go just like this one, with me feverishly coming in my fist instead of inside my wife.
It’ll wear off , I tell myself as my breathing evens out and I call for a second drink. Evelyn is tormenting me now, every time she’s near me, but her effect will lessen. I’ll get used to having her around, used to the idea that she’s unavailable, and this feeling of desperate lust will dissipate. It’ll just take some time.
By the time I’ve finished my second drink and headed back to the lounge to collect Vik, I’ve almost convinced myself of that.
I tell my driver to take us back to the mansion as we leave, planning to finish the work that I started earlier now that I can think a little more clearly. When we get there, as we walk inside, I turn to look at Vik.
“Keep in touch with Gus,” I tell him firmly. “And I want some of our men patrolling that area. I want a watch on Evelyn’s apartment building. If anyone suspicious, or anyone who seems to be affiliated with the Crows comes near it, I want to know. If anyone else is seen following her, I want them apprehended and brought to the warehouse down at the docks, and then I want to be called. Understood?”
Vik nods, opening his mouth to say something, but a moment later, I hear my father’s voice cut through the air.
“Sounds like this new fiancee of yours is a distraction, Dimitri. And a strain on our resources.”
I see the gleam in his eyes the moment I turn to look at him, clear pleasure on his face at the idea that he might be able to find a reason to be upset with my engagement, beyond his personal reasons.
“A handful of men patrolling a neighborhood—one that we have other reasons to watch as well—isn’t a drain on resources,” I tell him flatly.
“And them bringing anyone they think is following this woman in for you to question?” His brows raise. “That sounds like a distraction to me.”
“Evelyn is my fiancee. That means she’s under my protection. If anyone threatens her?—”
“It’s still a distraction.” He lets out a huffing breath, his displeasure evident. “If you were still engaged to Nicci?—”
“Any woman that I planned to marry would be afforded this same level of protection,” I snap.
“I don’t recall you sending men out to protect Nicci. Or providing her with her own bodyguard.”
“She didn’t need one. She had her own money, to get her own security if she did.” I take a deep breath, struggling to control my temper. “Evelyn will be my wife, in a very short time. She is my fiancee now. Her business and now her neighborhood is being targeted by a gang that wants to harm us. That’s more than I need to send men out to keep an eye on what’s happening.”
“Dimitri—”
“Enough.” My voice cuts through the air with the same sharp quality that his had a moment ago, and I realize that I’ve had enough of letting my father jerk me around. I’m his heir—and with Alek gone, I’m his only child. I’ll inherit one way or another, and it’s time I started behaving like the man that will be running all of this sooner rather than later.
“Evelyn is my fiancee,” I repeat, emphasizing each word. “Her safety and protection are paramount. And putting a stop to this upstart gang that thinks they can tangle with the fucking Yashkov Bratva is paramount, as well. That’s the end of it.” I turn to Vik, who is standing there stony-faced, waiting for instruction.
“Make sure my fiancee is kept safe,” I tell him firmly. And then, without another word, I stalk out of the room and to my office, leaving my father there in silence.