10. Katerina
CHAPTER 10
Katerina
“Get in.”
I’m still covering myself—or as much as I can when I’m butt-naked and have only my arms to shield my body. One hand cups my breasts together while the other hovers down below at my nether regions.
A glimmer lives in the Russian Bear’s dark sapphire eyes.
As if he’s amused I’m even bothering to cover myself. My shyness is funny .
My brain still feels foggy. Probably from whatever he—and his men—used to sedate me and bring me here.
I’m lost how I even ended up in his custody. How could I go from a free woman roaming the Northam streets to being stripped naked by a man I barely know?
The same man who I tried to kidnap just a few days ago…
I sigh. Karma really didn’t wait to try to teach me a lesson.
When seconds go by and I haven’t moved, the Russian clenches his hand around my upper arm and pulls me forward.
“I said get in, devochka. Bath time.”
“I can bathe myself. I’ve been doing it for twenty plus years.”
“You would do well, devochka, to forget your life before now. Everything will be different. Get in.”
I look from him to the frothy clawfoot bathtub in front of me. Little wisps of steam rise from the hot pool of water, so inviting given that I’m standing naked and shivering a few feet away.
…do I even have a choice at this point?
He holds onto my hand as I peel away the arm barred across my chest and use it to balance myself. Heat sheaths my body from all angles as I sink deep into the tub and then release a soft breath.
I’d be a liar if I said it doesn’t feel good.
Soothing after everything I’ve been through.
Roman sits on the ledge of the tub. “Do you like how it feels?”
“It feels great. It would feel even better if I were alone.”
“Pochemu ty takoy zastenchivyy? * ?”
“Why do you keep speaking to me in a language I don’t understand?”
“You are shy. It must be an American hang up,” he translates, a hint of humor in his rough voice. He drags his fingers across the surface of the water, creating a ripple effect. “You can see me naked if you’d like, devochka. I would be more than happy to show you.”
“No!” I squeak, my cheeks warming up. “Not necessary!”
Yes. Yes, necessary! I’m betting all that BDE isn’t for nothing…
“You’ll have to get used to being like this, devochka,” he says. He reaches over and brushes a stray lavender curl from my brow. “I like to see my pets as they are. Nothing in between.”
“I’m not your pet.”
“The sooner you accept you are mine, the easier things will be for you.”
“Yours…” I repeat. “In what way?”
He grips my chin and brings my face closer to his. So close I have no choice but to look up into his intense eyes. “In every way, devochka. You will soon see.”
…does that mean he’s going to…? We’re going to…?
I squash the inappropriate thought and refocus on bathing. The quicker I get this over with, hopefully the quicker I’ll receive some clothes. My fingers reach for the spongy loofah that rests in a caddy attached to the tub.
Suds soak the loofah once I dunk it in the water and then begin gently scrubbing it against my skin.
The Russian watches on as if I’m fascinating. Seeing me bathe myself is some form of entertainment.
The silence is maddening for me. His stare is intimidating.
My nakedness makes me painfully self-conscious. But my body betrays me. My nipples pull tight, noticeably erect, and as I dip the loofah between my thighs, I’m aware of the throbbing in my pussy.
There’s something about the rapt stare he’s giving me that turns me on while also making me acutely aware of how vulnerable I am right now.
I decide to fill up the space with conversation. Topics of my choosing.
“So, Roman,” I say, clearing my throat, “where am I?”
“It doesn’t matter. You will never have to worry about that. I decide where you go.”
I breathe through the instant frustration, my nostrils flaring. “Those men in the cars. On the subway. Do they work for you?”
“None of your concern, devochka. Ask too many questions, you might find trouble you will regret,” he says. “You should know that your place here isn’t to know things. You are here because I saw what I liked and have decided to keep you for myself.”
“You don’t just get to…” I sputter. “You don’t get to decide to keep people!”
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Isn’t that what you and your men did, devochka? Have you forgotten how we met?”
“That’s… that’s… beside the point?—”
“You had no idea who you were trifling with,” he says in his deep, throaty Russian accent. “You were after the sovietnik. You saw him as an easy mark. Is that correct?”
When I turn my head to avoid meeting his gaze, he slides two fingers under my chin and forcefully turns my head back toward him.
“Is that correct? I ask a question. You answer. Or be punished.”
“You don’t answer my questions?—”
“I make the rules,” he cuts in. His fingers curl around my chin to grip it much more roughly, demonstrating how his touch can go from gentle to brutish in a second. “It is probably in your best interest if you learn to cooperate. No one likes a poorly behaved kitty cat.”
“We thought it would be an easy job,” I confess. “Me and JC. We didn’t have many details.”
“JC… the one whose teeth I knocked out.”
“The one and only.”
“And why were you after him?”
“I told you. We didn’t have very many details. Finch?—”
“The coward who came to the apartment,” he cuts in, letting go of my chin. “The one who left you alone because he was about to piss himself.”
I almost snort in laughter at his description. “Yeah, that’s Finch. He’s the one who usually brokers all the deals for our jobs. JC and I are just the manual labor. We carry it out.”
Roman sits back slightly on the edge of the tub and surveys me more severely than he has been during this bath-time session. Though I have no idea what’s on his mind, I’m unnerved anyway. He seems to be making a judgment.
Did I say too much? Have I said the wrong thing?
You did just sort of rat out JC and the others…
…did I have any choice? Besides, it’s not like they didn’t ditch me with him.
I’m arguing with myself in the seconds it takes the Russian Bear to say something else. I expect him to issue a threat or express some kind of anger that we’d targeted the sovietnik.
Which I’m guessing is his boss.
Instead, he throws me a curveball of a question.
“Why are you running with men like those?”
Confused by his question, I frown. “What do you mean why?”
“You are a pretty woman,” he says plainly. “Young. Interesting. Men will take care of you.”
“I take care of myself. I have since I was little. My whole life pretty much.”
“On the streets?”
“Yes, on the streets. You name it, I’ve slept there. Alleyways on tossed out mattresses I used to make a fort. Vacated buildings with mice. Bus terminals and train stations. At the park on a bench. Couch surfing, of course.”
He gives a grunt but says nothing else.
The bathwater has begun to lose its heat. He rises from where he’s perched on the edge of the clawfoot tub and then reaches for one of the many neatly folded bath towels.
“Here, devochka. Dry off.”
I forget shielding myself from him. Water sloshes around the tub as I stand up completely naked and reach for the towel he’s handing me.
His eyes rove appreciatively down my body as if taking inventory of every curve. Quickly wrapping the towel around myself, I clutch it tightly.
“Can you at least pretend you’re not leering at me? It might make me feel more comfortable about, you know, being naked.”
“That does not matter. You will be naked anyway when I want you to be. Come.”
“You know, if I had as many abs as I bet you do, I’d be happy to be naked too.”
“You should already be happy, devochka. Tvoye telo menya vozbuzhdayet. Ya ne mogu dozhdat’sya, chtoby okazat’sya vnutri tebya? * .”
He leads me back into the bedroom where I’ve been kept.
It’s the first time I take a second to observe my surroundings. The accommodations are great considering what I’m used to. After sleeping in a grimy alley beside cats and rats and aluminum trash cans, the bedroom I’m in feels like a five-star luxury hotel.
I’ve got a full-sized bed with plush pillows and comforter and a window that seems to look out at the Northam River. There’s a chest of drawers and a cushiony chair in the corner under a floor lamp.
All things considered, it’s a space someone on the streets would love.
I should love it too… if not for the fact that I’m here as a captive.
“Stay put, devochka,” Roman commands. “I will return with your clothes.”
The door drifts shut behind Roman and I breathe out a sigh of relief at finally having a moment alone. My feet move on their own, my legs taking me from one end of the room to the other. I pace back and forth and talk myself through my situation.
“Stay calm,” I whisper. “Just… just stay calm. Think clearly. Bide your time. Play along. Find an out.”
The hushed words leave me several times as I repeat them like a mantra, walking from wall to wall around the room. The towel’s firmly secured at my chest, clinging to my body like it’s a sleeveless dress. Much needed coverage after spending the last half hour butt-naked under the unblinking eye of a Russian mobster.
I sigh coming up on the window.
Judging by the golden tint to the sky, it’s early evening. Night will fall soon.
Who knows what Roman has planned for tonight? He seems to think we’ll have sex. He’ll get to have me.
Nerves ripple in my belly at the thought.
I might find him attractive, but that doesn’t mean I want to sleep with him.
Honestly, it’s been so long for me, I’ve learned to live without real human contact…
The bedroom door flies open and I spin around expecting the six-foot-something brute to come stalking inside.
Instead, I scream and jump back, clutching my towel tightly.
A shorter, balder, fatter man has walked in. He flashes a golden-toothed grin, his belly huge and round.
“Privet? * ,” he says gruffly, shutting the door. “Ya nashel, gde on tebya derzhal. On dolzhen podelit’sya? * .”
* ? Pochemu ty takoy zastenchivyy - why are you so shy?
* ? Tvoye telo menya vozbuzhdayet. Ya ne mogu dozhdat’sya, chtoby okazat’sya vnutri tebya - your body excites me. I can’t wait to be inside you.
* ? Privet - hello
* ? Ya nashel, gde on tebya derzhal. On dolzhen podelit’sya - I found where he kept you. He has to share.