Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ember
And that’s how I ended up agreeing to go on a trip with a badass, tattooed Bratva boy—erm, man.
I asked for epic? Turns out we’re heading to New York next weekend.
I can still hear Shawn’s question.
Are you her security?
Yes. Yes, he is, and I fucking love it.
Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’ve spent too much time dwelling on fantasy and fiction.
Or maybe every time I’m anywhere near him, every cell in my body comes to life.
“Wait.” I’m lying on my bed, my knees propped up, my latest book calling to me, but I’ve got Rodion on the phone, and I have questions for him. Easing into this fake relationship thing is working out better than I thought.
“So you want me to go to this… gala, whatever that is. I’ll need a fancy dress? And shoes and makeup…” My mind whirs with the details.
“Maybe give me a little credit. I already know all your sizes and sent them to the stylists, along with that style board you pinned.”
I shake my head. Of course he did.
He’s sliding into my fantasies the way he slid into my DMs, like a book boyfriend come to life, and I… am not really sure how I feel about this.
We’ve talked every single night since that run-in with Shawn and my self-defense lessons. I’ve had photo shoots, and he’s been busy with “work.”
I haven’t asked him what that work entails, and he hasn’t offered details. Maybe it’s better that way.
I swallow hard. “Who will be there? Will this be like… you know… swimming in shark-infested waters, or…”
“It will be exactly that.” He says something under his breath in Russian that sounds very much like a curse. “Which is why we need to make sure we’re on the same page about you doing what the fuck you’re told.”
Right, right, we’ve been, uh… working on that.
I shiver.
The more I talk with him, the more we get to know each other, and the more I really do believe he’s legit.
“Your followers are getting impatient, you know.” I twirl my hair around my finger. They’re so eager for an update from him they’ve been messaging me nonstop. “Are you going to post anything else?”
“I do have that video I could post…”
My cheeks heat as I remember being strewn over his lap, that massive palm of his across my ass. “Don’t you dare!”
I’m unprepared for how his low, dark chuckle does delicious things to me.
“No one would know it was you.”
“I would!”
“Listen, let them talk. You’re the only one whose attention I wanted.”
I swallow hard. “And now you have it?”
I hear him sigh on the other end of the line. “I do, but not in the way I want.”
“I told you,” I say in a whisper. “I’m not ready to go to your place yet.”
Maybe I’m scared of what will happen if I do. But this weekend, we’re heading to New York, and we’ll share a room…
“I respect that.” Three little words that somehow ease my worry. I wish more men got it.
“I’ve got a job to do,” he says cryptically. “Check in before you go to bed?”
“Yes, sir,” I say teasingly, just to hear the approving growl on the other end of the phone.
I can tell how hard he’s working at holding himself back from absolutely smothering me. It’s hard for me to know what part of the book boyfriend fantasy would actually be nice in real life.
So far, I’ve got a checklist.
Pinned up against the wall and kissed?
Five stars. Way better than anything my mind’s conjured up.
Trapped against the wall, so close his breath warms your neck. His voice drops to that low, commanding tone, his hands hovering just shy of your hips, letting you decide if he can touch?
Get me a fire extinguisher.
The inescapable stare, his eyes on you everywhere. Realizing he’s memorizing every detail about your day, down to where you get your coffee?
Uhm…
Letting himself into your home to leave a “thoughtful gift?”
Red flag!
My phone buzzes with a message. For a second, I fear that it’s Shawn. I want to block him, but I’m afraid if I do, I might miss something crucial, and I need to be vigilant. Thankfully, it’s just my book bestie.
Bookbabe
Hey, girl. Where’ve you been? Have you been in touch with Bratvaboy?
Um yes
Bookbabe
Shut UP
Hahaha
Yes, we call him Bratva boy behind his back, and no, I haven’t told anyone he’s actually real, and I’ve seen him without the mask on. And no, I have absolutely not let him find out.
I strip down to my workout bra and panties and reach for a pair of PJs. I toss them onto my dresser as my fingers fly over the keys of my phone.
Bookbabe
WHAT’S HE LIKE?
What’s he like? God. How do I answer that? Hot and magnetic, dominant and bossy as fuck. Funny, somehow sweet… Intense.
Literally? Like a book boyfriend come to life.
In all the ways, sister. All the ways.
I feel kind of shy talking about him.
Bookbabe
OMGGGG but is he like legit Bratva? He can’t be, right?
My cheeks flush. I stare at the cozy jammies on my bed and think about it.
I’m not sure
It’s a lie.
Deep down inside, I know he is. I obviously can’t tell her, but I know now there’s no other possibility.
I toss my phone down when a prickle of awareness skates down my spine.
For some reason, I feel like… I’m not alone anymore.
“Hello?”
I head into the hallway and stare, my heart racing. Rodion said he had a job to do…
I hear the door click open just before the lights shut off.
My pulse quickens. Oh god.
Please be Rodion, please be Rodion…
“Hello?” My voice is hoarse and barely audible. I quickly go over what he’s taught me about self-defense, but why can’t I remember it now? “Rodion?”
I stifle a scream when a hand comes over my mouth, and strong arms hold me. My pulse hammers for a split second before I recognize the scent of his body wash and the feel of his hand on my mouth.
“Quiet, little queen. Fuck. I didn’t anticipate you’d be half-naked when I found you.”
And now my pulse races for an entirely different reason.
“You scared me,” I whisper as something soft and silky falls over my eyes.
My mind races with possibilities. We’ve talked about my videos, what gets me excited, and what he plans on doing, but…
His voice brushes against my ear, low and rough, igniting a spark that races down my spine. "Being a little scared, temporarily, is part of the whole appeal, isn’t it? If you're going to fantasize about being blindfolded and kidnapped, Ember, you'd better be ready for the real thing."
My breath catches. I can’t see him, but I can feel him—his presence looming, dominant, and inescapable. Silk ties firmly at the back of my head, leaving me blind but hyperaware of every sound, every shift in the air.
"Rodion," I whisper, my voice trembling with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, I hear the faint rustle of fabric and the click of the door locking behind him. His footsteps are slow, deliberate, circling me like a predator sizing up his prey. My pulse pounds, a drumbeat of anticipation thrumming in my ears.
"You talk a lot about wanting someone who takes control," he murmurs, his voice moving closer. I feel his fingers trace the edge of my workout bra, a light, teasing touch that makes me shiver. "But talk is cheap, little queen. Let’s see how much you really like it."
My mouth goes dry as his hands slide to my wrists, his grip firm but not harsh. He pulls my arms behind my back, and I hear a soft snap—what the hell? His laugh is low, dark, and wicked as he secures my wrists together.
"You make it too easy," he says, the heat of his breath brushing against my ear. "I thought you'd put up more of a fight."
"You didn't give me a chance," I manage to say, though my voice betrays me with its breathlessness. Heat floods me, and I mentally add taken by surprise and blindfolded to the super-hot list.
"You wouldn’t win," he murmurs, his voice like velvet-wrapped steel. His hands trace a deliberate path down my sides, igniting a searing trail that makes my breath hitch. When his fingers settle firmly on my hips, he pulls me back, and I collide with the unyielding heat of his chest.
My thoughts dissolve, splintering into nothing but the aching anticipation of where his touch will land next.
“Now,” he whispers, his voice laced with command, “you’re going to stand here and take everything I give you.”
Oh my god, what is he going to give me?
I can’t help the soft whimper that escapes my throat. He hears it, of course. He leans in, his lips brushing against my neck, and I swear I feel his smirk against my skin.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I’m undone.
He’s right.
I love good girl.
Yes.
I stifle a giggle when I remember some fan art stickers an author sent me—black and white with handcuffed wrists, the words Good Girls Love Dark Romance across the bottom.
“Something funny, little queen?”
I shake my head and go to talk when he slides something across my lips and ties it securely.
“Go ahead, baby. Scream. Let me hear you.”
I let out a little scream, but it’s tentative and muffled.
“Do better.” His palm slams across my ass, and I let out a louder scream on instinct.
“Better.”
My heart races.
I’m leaning into this, yes, but… but do I trust him completely?
What happens if this isn’t just a game to him?
I—
His hands roam, exploring every curve, every inch of me that he’s claimed in his mind long before this moment. The contrast between his rough palms and the smooth fabric of my bra and panties is intoxicating. Every touch is a reminder that I’m not in control—that I’ve willingly given it to him.
And I don’t want it back.
“You’re trembling,” he says, his voice almost amused as his hands slide to the hem of my leggings. “Is that fear, Ember? Or something else? I watched that video you posted last night.”
My cheeks flame. Of course he did.
Honestly? I posted it, hoping he would.
A convenient setup, really…
“You whined about not having a real-life book boyfriend come and kidnap you.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have been that obvious.
My heart rate spikes.
Kidnap me?
When I hesitate, he explores my body with the palms of his hands, pausing at the curve of my hips. “My god, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear before taking my earlobe between his teeth. “Kakaya ty krasivaya, budto sochtili angely.”