1. Vitya
Chapter 1
Vitya
Two Years Later
S he’s pissed at me.
Again.
I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn her displeasure this time, but we’ve been at the goddamn mall for four hours, and she only ever makes me endure this particular hell when she’s really angry at me. I mentally go through the last twenty-four hours, trying to figure out what the hell it could be while she walks around, flipping through the same rack of clothes she’s been eyeing for the last thirty minutes.
She knows I hate the mall. It’s a security nightmare, and it always leaves me with a raging headache. I scan the crowd of holiday shoppers, looking for threats while simultaneously drawing a blank on what the fuck I’ve done to piss off my pcholka . I nicknamed her little bee shortly after I started working as her personal bodyguard. It fits her. She’s always buzzing around, rarely sitting still or being quiet, and she can pack one hell of a sting when she wants to. Plus, I just know if I was allowed a taste of her, she’d be sweet as fucking honey.
Her loud, irritated huff has me fighting a grin as I ignore her and scan the crowd. I keep her in my periphery, knowing she’s perfectly safe .
“I can’t find anything,” she finally says. “Let’s just go.”
Without a word, I stay by her side as we leave the overpriced store and make our way through the crowds and towards the escalator. A group of teenage boys eye her longer than I’d like, so I grab her arm and scoot her to my other side, putting me in between them and her. They stop staring when I meet their eyes, and I don’t need to be looking at Sveta to know she’s rolling hers.
Once we’re on the bottom level, I follow her lead and walk past the stand of sweet pretzels that I know she loves so much. She’s going to regret not getting one, and even though I’ll be the one stuck with her attitude, I don’t ask her if she’s sure she doesn’t want to grab one before we leave. I’m her bodyguard, not her boyfriend. I do, however, stop and point at the winter hat that’s sticking out of her jacket pocket.
“Seriously? We’re not even technically going outside, Vitya. We’re just walking through a parking garage.”
“Put it on,” I tell her, waiting until she grabs the pink, knitted hat that looks cute as fuck on her and puts it on her head. Her hair is down today, and I’ve imagined running my fingers through it more times than I want to admit.
“Happy?”
I ignore her tone and tug her hat lower so it’s covering her ears. No matter how I try to spin it, this falls outside my duties as her bodyguard, but I don’t care. It’s freezing outside, and I don’t want her catching a cold.
She stays beside me as we walk down the row of parked cars, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief when we’re in the bulletproof SUV. At least in here I know she’s completely safe. If I could lock her in this damn thing all day, I would. She lets out a heavy sigh and props her boot up on the dash. She knows I hate it when she does that.
“Seat belt,” I tell her, issuing the command that she insists I say every time we get in the vehicle. Why can’t she ever just put it on without me having to ask?
Instead of another sigh, she gives a pained groan before buckling herself in. Only when I’m sure she’s secure do I pull out of the parking spot. Traffic is awful, and we’ve barely made it a mile down the road when she starts fidgeting.
I knew she should’ve gotten the fucking pretzel. She’s about to enter her hangry phase. All the signs are there, and when she groans and says, “This is going to take forever,” I fight a laugh and ignore her.
She twists in her seat, trying to find a lane of traffic that’s moving, and then gives up and starts tapping her hand against the boot that’s still resting on the dashboard.
“I’m hungry,” she mutters, and then she turns her head to me. “Why didn’t you remind me to get a pretzel? Is it too late to turn around?”
I look in the rear view mirror at the long line of cars behind us. “Yes.”
“Oh my god,” she groans again. “We could be stuck here for hours.”
Without a word, I lean over and push her boot off the dash, ignoring the irritated grunt she gives. Reaching into the glovebox, I grab the fruit snacks I always make sure to have stocked for her and throw two packs onto her lap.
“My favorite,” she says, and I have to bite my lip to not smile at how happy she sounds. “Thanks, Vitya.”
“Mm,” I say, the same sort of noncommittal grunt response I usually give her. Partly because I know it pisses her off, and partly because I just don’t know what else to say. I’ve been watching Sveta every day for two years, and the damn woman has ruined me. I’m not sure when exactly I fell in love with her. Part of me thinks it was the second she leaned over me after I’d been stabbed, insisting Pyotr use her blood to save me. Whether it happened then or gradually over the course of the next few months doesn’t matter. What matters is that it happened, and I can’t get her out of my fucking head. For two years I haven’t been able to even look at another woman, so if anyone should be feeling pissy right now, it’s me. My case of blue balls is far worse than a fucking missed pretzel.
“So good,” she mumbles around her fruit snacks as she empties one pack and tears open the other. “Want some? ”
I hold my hand out, not at all surprised when she takes the time to pick through them, giving me the red ones that she knows I prefer. For one brief moment, when her fingers brush mine, I allow myself to think about what it would be like to be in this car as someone other than her bodyguard, what it would be like to thread my fingers through hers and pull her closer, claiming her mouth while we’re stuck in downtown traffic. When I start to wonder about whether or not I could make her come before the light turns green, I know I need to get my head out of my ass and back on my job.
Shoving the fruit snacks in my mouth, I put my focus back on the road and off the beautiful woman sitting next to me.
“Thanks, Sveta,” she says in the world’s worst impersonation of me. She always makes me sound like such a dumbass when she mimics me. “It was so sweet of you to share your fruit snacks with me.”
“ Your fruit snacks?” I ask, unable to resist.
“You gave them to me, so, yes, my fruit snacks, the ones I so graciously shared with you.” She turns to face me, and I know what’s coming before the words are even out of her perfectly pouty mouth. “You know, kind of like how I shared my blood with you the night you almost died.”
There’s my feisty pcholka, coming straight in for the sting.
When I don’t give a reaction, she lets out a huff of air and pops another fruit snack in her mouth. The next several minutes are spent in silence until she finally reaches over and turns on the music. An insanely upbeat tune from her holiday playlist fills the interior of the SUV, immediately annoying the hell out of me just like she knew it would. She taps her foot and sings along for the rest of the drive. I swear she does it off-key on purpose.
By the time I pull into my reserved spot near the private elevator that leads to her family’s penthouse apartment, I’m seconds away from pulling my gun out and shooting the speakers. I’m not much for the holidays. It just reminds me of things that I don’t want to fucking think about.
Before Svetlana can jump out, I grab her arm and hold her in place while I scan the garage, making sure everything’s okay. When I’m satisfied it’s safe, I let her go, and she hops out while I do the same because experience has taught me that she won’t wait for me. She’ll grab her bags and hightail it to the elevator, hoping she can get the doors shut before I catch up. She’s constantly trying to get away from me, and I’m constantly ruining her plans.
“Are you going anywhere else tonight?” I ask once we’re inside and I’ve pushed the button for the top floor.
She shrugs and leans against the polished wall. “I might go hit the clubs later,” she says in a bored tone, “or maybe I’ll just grab a table at Pink.”
I raise a brow at the mention of the strip club her family owns, the one she knows she’s sure as fuck not allowed to go to. She sighs and leans her head back.
“You know I can’t go anywhere or do anything, Vitya. Do you ask me these questions to torture me? I’m twenty, it’s Friday night, and I will be sitting my ass at home. Again.”
“You’ll be safe there,” I tell her.
“Please,” she mutters and then adds, “I could do with a little bit of action.”
You and me both, little bee.
Her soft brown eyes meet mine, just long enough for me to see something in them that has me looking away. She’s been staring at me more and more lately, and I’m doing everything I can to discourage it. The last thing I need is for her to start developing feelings for me. One of us being in love is bad enough. I can handle it. I’m used to a hellish existence and being miserable is just standard for me. I don’t want that for her, though. She deserves better.
The doors give a soft ding before opening onto her family’s apartment. I follow her in, making sure everything is secure. While she’s at home, there’s no need for me to watch her, but I sometimes hang out here if she’s planning on going back out again. Last year, Vitaly moved me into the apartment below them so I’d be closer, but it’s still easier to just wait it out here if we’re going to be making another trip .
I blend into the background and await my orders. I’ve learned that a big part of being a bodyguard is standing around and waiting. I’m not one to brag, but I’m pretty damn good at it. Sveta ignores me and plops down on the couch while Katya peeks her head out from the kitchen.
“Hey, Vitya. You hungry? There’s plenty of stew if you want some.”
I smile at Katya and shake my head. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”
The truth is I’m starving, but Vitaly and I are in complete agreement that certain lines shouldn’t be crossed. I’m an employee, not a family member. Nothing good will come of me getting too comfortable. I’m here to take a bullet for his daughter, nothing more, nothing less, so every time his wife invites me to stay for supper, I always politely decline.
When I look back at the couch, Sveta is staring at me, but she quickly looks away when our eyes meet.
“Sveta, are you going back out again?” her mom asks, probably wondering why I haven’t left yet since I told her I didn’t want to stay for supper. I’m wondering the same thing, but as much as it pains me to admit, I can’t ever leave until Sveta tells me she’s staying put. I need to hear it from her. We’ve come to an agreement of sorts, and I won’t leave this apartment until she gives me what I want.
“No, I guess not,” she finally says from the couch, not sounding happy at all to be spending her Friday night at home. Her brown eyes find mine again, saying the words she knows I need to hear. “You can go, Vitya. I promise I won’t go anywhere without you.”
Even though Svetlana is a handful and more than a little prone to trouble, I know she’d never lie to me. If she says she’s not leaving, then I know she’s not. I give her a nod and turn to leave.
“I’m going to Natalya’s tomorrow for lunch. Lara’s going to be there, too.”
I stop and ask, “What time do you want to leave?”
“Around eleven.”
I look back so I can see her once more before turning to leave. “I’ll be here,” I tell her on my way to the elevator. Once the doors close, I’m careful to not show any emotion because I know there are security cameras in here. My face is a calm, unreadable mask as I swipe my card over the sensor, making the elevator stop on the next floor, and as soon as the doors close behind me, I let out a sigh. My head is killing me from the four-hour shopping trip from hell, the one I still don’t know what I did to deserve, and my dick hurts from a complete lack of use. I’m too depressed to even jack off, and it’s starting to put me in a really foul mood.
As soon as I unlock my door and step into my apartment, I know I’ll go crazy if I have to stay here all night. It’s not even seven o’clock yet, so I grab my phone and text Lev.
Me:
I’m done for the night. Need me to do anything?
I grab a bottle of water while I wait, and when his reply comes in, I smile as I read it.
Lev:
You can help Timofey. Meet him at Pink at nine.
I send him a thumbs up and head for my bedroom. After I’d taken on the role as Sveta’s sole bodyguard, I’d quickly realized that I needed more. I missed being a part of the action and getting my hands dirty. I’m not about to turn my back on my bodyguard duties, I don’t think I could sever ties with that woman even if I wanted to, and the thought of any other man watching over her and getting to spend his days right next to her doesn’t sit well with me at all, so my bosses and I came to an agreement. I can do extra duties as long as Sveta is safely tucked in for the night and it doesn’t interfere with my ability to protect her. On nights like this when she’s safely in her apartment and not leaving again until tomorrow, I have more than enough time to go have some fun and still get a full night of sleep so I’m alert and ready to protect her tomorrow. I don’t think Vitaly is all that thrilled about the arrangement, but Lev gets it. He knows I’ll be better at my job if I have this outlet. Sometimes a man just needs to get his hands bloody, and I’m hoping tonight will give me that.
Changing into a pair of shorts, I grab some weights and start lifting. I’ve got plenty of time to fit a workout in. I’ve been using weights as a way to deal with my sexual frustration. Since working with Sveta, I’ve put on a good bit of muscle mass. I guess I should be thanking her. At thirty, I’m in the best shape of my life. The irony is that no one is seeing it since my ass has been celibate since the night she saved me.
Putting all my frustration into my workout, I don’t stop until I’m drenched in sweat and my muscles are shaking. I down another bottle of water on the way to the shower, and once I’m dressed and ready, I grab my keys and check my phone. I’m not completely surprised to see a text from Sveta. She’ll sometimes send me one if she wants to go somewhere or if she’s just in the mood to bitch at me.
Sveta:
I’m watching Planet of the Apes and it made me think of you. One of them is grumpy as hell and just likes to grunt.
I laugh before I can stop it, grateful that she isn’t here to see it. It’s best to not encourage her, and sometimes that means I have to bite my tongue to not laugh at the things that come out of her mouth.
Me:
I’m sure he has a reason for it, and behind those grunts is most likely an incredibly intelligent ape. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sveta.
Sveta:
Don’t be late, Vitya.
Me:
I’m never late, and you damn well know it. Are you making me endure another mall trip after your visit with Natalya?
Sveta:
Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.
Me:
Well, I’ll try not to do anything to piss you off again, even though I have no clue what I did to deserve today’s punishment. I need to go. Stay inside and I’ll see you tomorrow.
Sveta:
Where are you going?
Me:
Out.
I know my answer has pissed her off, but she doesn’t need to know about Bratva business. Everyone is very careful to keep the business away from the daughters and wives as much as possible. Mia, Lev’s youngest, is the one who’s most dead set on demolishing that particular rule, and I’m so glad she wasn’t the one who saved my life that night. Sveta may be a headache at times, but she’s a headache I know how to handle. Plus, I’m in love with the woman and that affords her certain liberties. Mia would just drive me fucking crazy. I would never trust her to keep her ass inside for the night. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she tried to shimmy down the outside of the building.
Right as I’m sitting down on my motorcycle, my phone buzzes.
Sveta:
Make sure you don’t wear yourself out too much. I just remembered I forgot to get something while we were at the mall. I guess we’ll need to go there again after all.
I groan and pocket my phone before pulling my helmet on. Great, she’s pissed at me because she thinks I’m leaving to go fuck someone. Not only will I not be getting laid tonight, but I’m going to be punished tomorrow as if I did. Just fucking great.
By the time I get to Pink, I’m more than ready to fuck someone else’s night up. Timofey is waiting for me out back, and without a word, I get off my bike and get into his waiting car. He’s been with the Bratva for decades, and the fact that he’s still alive tells me everything I need to know about him.
“How are Mila and the kids?” I ask once he’s pulling out of the parking lot.
He looks over and grins. “They’re good. I had no idea girls could be so damn loud,” he says with a soft laugh. His wife used to be a bartender at Pink, but she’d quit once she learned she was pregnant. Now they have four girls, and I don’t know how the man gets any sleep. I can’t imagine a houseful of kids, but he seems happy about it.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?”
“We’re checking out one of our dealers,” he tells me, and I know there’s more to it than that because we’re both too high up in the ranks to get sent out for something so minor. When I don’t press for information, he eventually gets around to telling me what I want to know. My ability to keep quiet is a skill that comes in handy for more things than just aggravating Sveta.
“This guy’s been a pain in our ass lately,” he says. “He’s late on dropping off the money, and the guys we have selling pills at the club near campus all say he’s been off his game lately. He even fucked up an order and we ended up being short on pills one night.”
“You think he’s using?” I ask, because it sure sounds like the fucker is high. No one in their right mind would try and steal from the Melnikov Bratva.
“We’re about to find out,” Timofey says, taking a right turn and leading us closer to the university. The Bratva owns a few clubs, and one of them is near campus. It’s the kind of nightclub I’d never choose to walk into—loud, upbeat music, giggly girls who talk way too loud and squeal when they get excited, and preppy rich boys who’ve never had to work a day in their lives. The place brings in a lot of money, though, and I can see why the brothers bought it. It doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy spending time in it, though.
The headache I got from the mall has only just recently simmered down to a dull ache, but when Timofey pulls in front of the club and I see the neon lights and long line of young students waiting to get in, I know it’s about to flare back to life. We get out of his car and make our way to the bouncer on duty, ignoring the stares the young women are giving us.
“Oskar, how’s it looking tonight?” Timofey asks the man in Russian as Oskar looks over the ID in his hand.
“Busy.” Oskar hands the ID back and waves the girl in before grabbing the next one. “No trouble yet, though, so that’s good. Usually one of these frat boys will end up drinking too much and trying to start a fight. It’s fucking pathetic, man. My little sister can fight better than these rich pussies.”
Timofey laughs and eyes the crowd. “At least they’re easy fights to break up.”
“That’s for sure,” Oskar agrees.
“Who’s here tonight?” Timofey asks.
Oskar nods at the woman in front of him and waves her in before saying, “Isaak’s in there and Pasha. I haven’t seen anyone else come in.”
Timofey nods at the mention of our dealers’ names. “Have you seen Radomir tonight?”
I notice the way Oskar stiffens before giving a tight shake of his head. “I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
“Text me if you do,” Timofey tells him before smacking his back and walking past him to enter the club.
“Good to see you, Vitya,” he says when I walk by.
“You too, man.” I return his nod and step into the obnoxiously loud club.
Working our way through the crowd, I’m grateful when Timofey makes a quick stop at the bar, holding up two fingers to let the woman know we want a couple of shots. She knows who we are and ignores all the other customers waiting for their drinks so she can quickly pour ours. I laugh when one of the girls at the end points at us and yells, “Excuse me. We were here first.”
I flip her off and take the shot, tossing it back and motioning for the bartender to fill it again. Unfortunately, the young blonde takes it as an invitation to walk over.
“You’ve pissed her off,” Timofey mutters in Russian. “Rich girls don’t like being made to wait, Vitya, and they definitely don’t like being given the middle finger.” He laughs and adds, “Not like that anyway.”
When the woman is standing in front of me, hand on her jutted-out hip and tits on full display, she eyes me from bottom to top and quickly decides she’d rather fuck me than yell at me.
“I think you owe me a drink.” There’s a smile playing at her lips, but I don’t return it. I want fuck all to do with her. She’s in my way, and she’s annoying me.
“I don’t owe you shit. Go back to your friends and get the fuck out of my way.”
Her mouth drops open while Timofey hides his laugh by taking another shot.
“What did you just say to me?”
The woman in front of me is young and attractive, and I’m guessing she rarely gets told no, but I’m not playing games with her. I’m not fucking interested, and I want her to leave, so I point at the other end of the bar where her friends are staring at us and say, “Go sit the fuck back down. I’m not interested.”
“What?” The word comes out as more of a shocked hiss, and I feel sorry for any guy dumb enough to date her. She’s the kind of woman who demands all the attention, all the time, but lacks the personality to back it up or make it interesting. She’d be exhausting in the worst way possible and boring as hell.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” I say again, making sure to keep my words slow so she can follow along. “Go sit back down and leave me alone.”
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she screeches at me before turning and storming off.
“I’m guessing that’s not the first time you’ve been called that by a woman,” Timofey says in Russian. Laughing, he hands me a shot. He’s not wrong, but I don’t bother telling him that. I don’t have the best history with women. I’ve never wanted anything more than one night with any of them, and now that I’m stuck in celibacy hell because of Svetlana, I’m not quite sure what that means for my future. Not wanting to think about it, I take another shot and ignore the angry glares the blonde woman and her girlfriends are giving me.
“Come on,” Timofey says, nodding toward the back of the club where Pasha is leaning against the wall. “Let’s find Radomir and get the fuck out of here before you piss off anyone else.”
He’s not wrong. I’m in a bad mood, and I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse. Pasha sees us walking over and immediately straightens, glancing between the two of us while trying like hell to hide the fear that’s suddenly radiating off him. I have no doubt he’s racking his brain, trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong, much like I was doing with Sveta earlier.
“Where’s Radomir?” Timofey asks, cutting right to the chase. He keeps speaking Russian, so even if anyone around us happens to overhear our conversation over the music, they won’t know what the hell we’re talking about.
“He texted and told me he was going to check on the shipment coming in. Said he’d be back tomorrow night.” Pasha looks over at me and then quickly decides after seeing my pissed-off face that Timofey is the safer bet and keeps his focus on him when he asks, “Is everything okay?”
Timofey ignores the question. “How’s he been acting?”
Pasha scratches at the blond stubble on his face, clearly wishing he wasn’t the one chosen for tonight’s questioning.
“Don’t fucking cover for him,” I warn. “It’ll just end up being your ass on the line.”
Usually I’d be on team don’t ever be a fucking rat, but this is different. This is about someone trying to fuck over the Bratva. This is about loyalty. We all pledged our lives to the Melnikovs, and that oath comes before everything.
Pasha sighs and nods his head. “He’s late all the time. Last week he gave me the wrong number of pills, and when I confronted him, he’d laughed it off and said he’d make up for it this week. He never travels, and now all of a sudden he’s texting and telling me that he needs to personally be there to check on a shipment.” He waits a second and then adds, “Something feels off with him.”
“You think he’s using?” I ask.
Pasha thinks about it and then shakes his head. “He doesn’t look like it.”
“So stealing,” Timofey says, stating the only obvious explanation for all this and sealing Radomir’s fate with those two words.
“I haven’t seen it with my own eyes,” Pasha clarifies, “but that’s definitely what it looks like.”
Looking across the crowded room, I scan the dance floor and tables. I spot Isaak sitting in a corner booth, deep in conversation with a young brunette. She discreetly passes him some money and then takes the small bag he gives her before scooting her ass away from the table as quickly as she can without drawing attention. She’s young, obviously a student at the university, and I’m guessing Mommy and Daddy would have a heart attack if they could see their precious daughter right now. She hightails it out of the club like her ass is on fire, and when Isaak looks up and notices me staring, he gives me a nod to let me know he’s on his way over.
Isaak and Pasha both look the part. There’s nothing about them that screams drug dealer. They work hard to blend in, and both of them could easily pass for a couple of students. They were assigned this job because neither one of them has visible tattoos, and now they’re not allowed to get any until they’re assigned a different job. When Isaak gets closer, he eyes the dragon tattoo I have on my neck, and I know it irritates him that he can’t ink his skin in the same way. I smile and scratch at the dark stubble on my face, letting him get an eyeful of the hand tats I have, just because I can be an ass sometimes.
I laugh when he arches a brow at me, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “You won’t be able to pass as a student forever. Once you look too old, you can get all the tattoos you want. ”
He groans and runs his fingers over his smooth jawline. “I’ve got a baby face, man. That could be decades from now.” Looking between the three of us, he asks, “So what’s going on?”
“You seen Radomir today?” Timofey asks him.
“No, I haven’t seen him since last week. What’s going on?” Isaak looks between the three of us and then gives a soft laugh. “I’m guessing I won’t be seeing him again.”
“You guessed right,” Timofey says. “You two need to keep selling as usual. You should have enough product to last the week, right?”
“Yeah,” Pasha says, “we’ve got plenty.”
Timofey nods. “Good. We’ll have someone else in place to take over before you need to restock. If you do happen to see the fucker, text me immediately.”
“Will do,” Pasha says while Isaak nods in confirmation.
Timofey turns to look at me. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We leave the club, and I’m even more pissed off than when we first arrived. I was hoping I’d get to take my anger out on someone and that I’d be going home with bloody hands, but that’s obviously not happening tonight.
When we’re back in Timofey’s car and on our way to Pink, he says, “I can’t believe that fucker has the balls to steal from the Bratva.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “He’s not going to have them for long.”
“No, he’s not,” Timofey agrees, letting out a laugh of his own. “What a fucking idiot.”
“I want in on this tomorrow,” I tell him.
“As long as Svetlana is in for the night, I’m okay with you being a part of it.”
“I’ll make sure she is,” I say, making him laugh again.
“Yeah, she’s real good at taking orders.” He looks over at me, obviously still amused. “Svetlana and Mia are just like their dads, both of them handfuls. I don’t know why in the hell you didn’t ask to watch Yelena. That girl’s an absolute sweetheart. She’d never give you any trouble.”
“Sveta doesn’t give me trouble,” I say, feeling the need to defend her. “We have an understanding. She pushes things, but she never crosses the line.”
“Well, I’m glad it’s working out.” He pulls into the parking lot, driving around to the back so he can drop me off by my bike. “If you ever get tired of the bodyguard thing, you know they’d reassign you if you wanted. I mean, I’m guessing she’ll be getting married at some point, and then you’re just going to be stuck guarding her and a bunch of babies. I know you better than that, Vitya. That shit’ll drive you crazy.”
My stomach knots at the thought of Svetlana getting married and having some other man’s kids. The idea of watching some asshole put his hands on her and fucking a baby into her tight little body has me seeing red. The reaction is instinctual, lightening fast and all-consuming, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to stop it.
I manage to grunt out a response before getting my ass out of his car. He drives off, leaving me with a feeling of despair that surprises and irritates me in equal measure. Hiking a leg over my bike, I look at the large building in front of me. It would be so easy to go inside and pick up one of the strippers for the night. I could let off some steam, lose this sexual frustration that’s like a noose around my neck, and finally get some relief, but I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to get off my bike and walk in. I don’t want them . I want her . And if I can’t have her, then I don’t want anyone.
It’s a depressing realization, and by the time I’m stepping back into my apartment, I’m more than ready for this day to be over. I put on Planet of the Apes , smiling every time one of the apes grunts. I finally fall asleep around one, and after a restless night where I’m plagued with nightmares of my brother dying, I wake and take a quick shower, wanting to grab a coffee before I have to meet Sveta.
An hour later, I’m in the elevator with a black coffee and a vanilla latte. Sveta is waiting for me when the doors open. She sees the latte in my hand and smiles, and it lights up her whole damn face. Even with her jacket on, I can see how the red sweater she’s wearing hugs her body, accentuating the tits that drive me crazy on a daily basis, and ending right on the round curve of her ass. She’s so fucking beautiful that I’m forced to look away, because sometimes watching her is too damn much for me. It hurts too fucking badly, and some days I just can’t take it.
Today is one of those days.
I accept my fate with a sigh, knowing I have several long, painful hours ahead of me.