Chapter 2
NIKOLAI
Standing in front of the mirror, Nikolai adjusted his shirt, then straightened out the thighs of his jeans.
He was wearing a black, designer, short-sleeved button-down shirt with only the last three buttons fastened. His solid, smooth chest peeked out from between the folds of his shirt, teasing the world with the impressive body he was still rocking.
To add to his intimidating physique, his arm-sleeve tattoo stretched out from under his shirt, giving him that dangerous, bad-boy look that bikers were famous for.
Nikolai looked at his reflection in the mirror. He’d been taught from a very young age to always look his best. Sex was power, and if you wanted something from someone, it was always easier to obtain when you made them hot between the legs.
And tonight, his boss wanted to seal the deal with this new LA crew he was hoping to do business with.
So Nikolai needed to look hot as fuck, but also badass enough that the LA crew didn’t try to fuck them over. Gangs only respected those they feared.
At six-foot-four, there wasn’t a moment that went by when Nikolai didn’t look intimidating. That was one of the reasons that Marcus had him working security. That, and his bulging muscles. He could toss a regular-sized man halfway across the parking lot—not that he ever tried that or anything.
He contemplated changing his boots.
No, they matched the jeans, which matched the shirt, which made his eyes pop.
Yeah, he looked good. He felt bad for those who had to look at him. It was hard to handle so much Russian hotness.
There was a knock at the door.
Nikolai took one more glance in the mirror before walking over to answer the door.
“Done pumping up those tiny muscles?” Marcus asked as he walked into the room, with Caden and Blade following.
Nikolai flexed his bicep, making his arm look huge in front of the guys.
“They may be tiny by Russian standards, but massive by American,” he said, using a thick Russian accent.
He’d been in the country for nearly twenty years. He could speak decent English, but noticed that people were more intimidated when he used a Russian accent. So he continued to lean into his accent.
The guys laughed.
Making fun of each other’s size was one of the ways they motivated each other to hit the gym and push through each agonizing set. Marcus was a beast when it came to working out.
Caden tried to look tough by pretending he wasn’t dying when Marcus kept adding weights to his machines.
Ace, on the other hand, retaliated by removing random weights from Marcus’s bar every time he tried to use the bench press station. Have you ever tried lifting a bar when one side was missing half the weight? Gravity can be a bitch.
Blade, the lazy-ass, just told Marcus to go fuck himself whenever he approached his weights.
And Nikolai… well, Marcus just found it easier to verbally tease the guy than to try to manipulate him into working out harder. Russians didn’t take kindly to people fucking around with their shit.
“So, are we ready for tonight?” Marcus asked as he flopped into the only armchair in the hotel room. The other guys hopped onto the bed, fluffing Nikolai’s pillows and making themselves comfortable.
Idiots.
“Hope you know I rubbed my junk on those pillows while I was jerking off before you guys got here,” Nikolai informed Caden and Blade.
Both of them looked at each other, horrified. They grabbed the pillows from behind their heads and threw them both across the room.
Nikolai chuckled. He was totally lying.
“I thought I smelled musky man-whore,” Blade huffed, staring at his hands like he was contemplating cutting them off and burning them.
“You’re one to talk,” Nikolai responded.
“Not anymore. This dick has been claimed,” Blade answered, just as a growl emerged from the other side of the room.
“You mention anything about boning my brother, and I’ll take out my gun and shoot you in the face,” Marcus warned through clenched teeth.
Ace was Blade’s fiancé, and also Marcus’s younger brother… well, stepbrother, but Marcus never liked to make that distinction. As far as he was concerned, Ace was as true a blood brother as one could get.
“Again with the violence. How are we supposed to become marriage-brothers when you keep threatening me with murder and dismemberment?” Blade asked, placing his hand behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.
“Easy, I’ll set up a memorial in your name behind the bar. ‘Here lies the biggest douche who ever thought it was smart to stick his dick in my brother. May his face one day find its nose in the afterlife.’”
Blade looked over at Marcus. “Man, you’re dark.”
“You’re the one trying to cozy up to me,” Marcus grumbled.
Blade rolled his eyes at his boss and soon-to-be brother-in-law.
Nikolai wondered how long it would take before Blade got shot in the face. Eventually, he would say something stupid to piss Marcus off, and oops… accidents happen.
“Okay, now that Blade is done wasting all of our time,” Marcus started, scratching his balls, before diving into the night's plan.
The plan was simple. They were going to meet the leader of the Double Aces crew so that Marcus could lay out his business proposal. Hopefully, if everything went well, they would all leave the club with their heads bullet-free.