23. Naomi
23
NAOMI
S neaking a pregnancy test into the house is going to be tough, especially when everything is checked and double-checked.
Things have been stressful, which could easily explain my lack of period, but my mother’s words are in my mind, and I can’t shake them. I’ll need to work out a way to get a test without raising suspicion.
That ends up taking a back seat for a few days because something much more fun crops up.
A late-night discussion with Zasha revealed that he missed his birthday while his memories were still nothing but fog, so I take it upon myself to throw a celebration for him. It’s also an excuse for a party which will help everyone loosen up given everything that’s happened.
Dariya takes charge of the food and decorations, so I throw myself into planning everything else. By the time Saturday rolls around, we’re all set for the garden party that Zasha agrees to pretend to be surprised about after all the work Dariya puts into keeping it a secret.
It’s nice to focus on something fun, especially with the weight having shifted from my shoulders. I’m not a snake if I’m no longer trying to get intel to my mother, right?
And the only information I let slip was that Zasha was here but my mother can’t do anything with that since she only knows the bare bones and has no idea that Zasha is still here.
Right?
I tell myself this each time doubt creeps up during the garden party.
Every time Fyodor takes me in his arms and thanks me for doing this nice thing, I tell myself that life as the nanny will be so much simpler now. Each time Daniil teases me over the top of his cocktail glass, I tell myself that enjoying their company is now perfectly innocent because I’m no longer trying to get dirt on any of them. We’re all just people. And every time Zasha thanks me for caring enough to do this for him, I tell myself that I will make up for the sneaking around I did just so I can sleep a little easier at night.
Music blares, drinks flow, and even a few of the guards join in the merriment to celebrate Zasha’s late thirty-seventh birthday. It warms my heart to see them all laughing and joking together. There are no lines in the sand here, no arguments about loyalty, and no family obligations. For this day, this single day, there are just three happy men, a boisterous child, and chilled-out guards.
If I squint, we’re almost like a real family.
“Naomi.” Zasha’s arm slips around my waist and pulls me close. The setting sun casts a red glow over his white-blond hair and his smile stretches from ear to ear.
“Happy birthday,” I smile up at him, licking the last of the icing off my fingers from the very delicious cake Dariya and I baked together.
“No one has ever thrown me a part before,” Zasha chuckles, swaying gently to the music. “So this is, without a doubt, the very best birthday I have ever had.”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes as warmth spreads across my cheeks. “It’s nothing.”
“Please do not discredit yourself. There is something so charming about this and I will cherish this for as long as I live.”
“You’re drunk.”
His eyes are rosy and his smile is lazy. Gone are the weights dragging him down into his painful past. Zasha is open and happy in these moments, and watching him laugh brings such warmth to my own heart.
“Perhaps,” he teases, leaning in close. “But that is part of the fun, yes?” Lifting his encased arm, his fingertips trail lightly over my warm cheeks and then down to my neck. Then he leans in and kisses me deeply.
It’s slow and sensual. Our lips dance lazily together, matching pace with ease when our heads tilt in opposite directions—then I freeze and dart backward much to Zasha’s amusement.
I’m kissing Zasha in front of Fyodor!
Does he even know that Zasha and I have been messing around?
I spin in Zasha’s hold to see Fyodor reclining back on one of the pool loungers, watching me with dark eyes. There’s no jealousy or anger on his face that I can tell, but there’s still a knot of guilt in my gut resting just beneath Zasha’s hand.
“I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be.” Fyodor takes a slow swig of his beer. “I’m not complaining.”
“You knew?” I eye him quizzically.
“The walls have eyes, my dear.”
My heart stops, and then it clicks. “Have you been watching me on the cameras?!” Is that how Daniil knew I was in the bar that night?
“Pick whichever answer you prefer,” Fyodor smirks, and Daniil, standing near the buffet table with his floral shirt hanging open, snorts in amusement. The edges flap loosely in the soft evening breeze, and Zasha’s arm around my waist tightens.
“See?” he murmurs low in my ear. “Things are good.”
“I’m insulted,” I gasp, slipping from Zasha’s grasp. “I can’t believe you’d spy on me!”
“I never said that,” Fyodor smirks. “But it sounds like you’d like it if I did.”
The truth remains a mystery but surprisingly the idea doesn’t shock me that much. If anything, it makes me feel more protected than before. I can’t keep the smile from my face even as I scoop up a tired Dariya from where she’s half asleep in her chair.
“I’m taking Dariya to bed,” I say, still feigning insult. Three pairs of eyes watch me walk back into the house, and my heart skips an excited beat.
Are things finally starting to work out?
I’d never attached myself to any of them, maintaining my enjoyment of all of them, but it’s nice to know there’s no jealousy. Such an emotion destroys a normal family and I don’t need to know how bloodthirsty things would get in the Bratva.
“I’m not tired,” Dariya yawns as I wrestle her out of her swimsuit and into her pajamas.
“Of course not.” I nod seriously. “I can tell you’re wide awake.”
Rubbing her eyes, she starts to insist but as soon as I tuck her up into bed, she falls asleep mid-sentence and her excuse is lost to me.
“Sleep well, darling,” I murmur, kissing her temple.
It’s adorable. I slip away from her and gently close the door.
Would it be so bad if I were pregnant? The guys seem happy and having my own little girl like Dariya would surely only be a good thing, right?
Would they care who the father is?
Would it even matter?
Too many questions burst forth at just that contemplation, so I shove them away and hurry back downstairs to the party. Passing two guards on the way, I send them to Dariya’s room, then head back out into the garden where the enjoyment is still in full swing.
The rest of the guards have melted away either to rest or return to work. All that remains are the three men holding a high soft spot in my heart.
Daniil has stripped down to nothing, and he stands on the diving board in all his naked glory. As the sky darkens, the lights around the pool bloom into life, creating shadows across Daniil’s body. They accentuate the curves of his muscles and highlight the worst of the scars not hidden by the black ink of his tattoos.
Still, his sunglasses remain on, even as he dives into the pool with a large splash. What a guy.
“Be careful of your shoulder!” I warn him when he breaches the surface. “You don’t want to re-open that wound.”
Daniil sticks out his tongue and dives back under once more. Intent on getting a drink, I weave through the recliners toward the bar but as I pass Fyodor, he reaches out and spanks me sharply on the ass.
“Hey!” Spinning to face him, I can’t say anything else because suddenly Zasha’s pulling me into his lap and I land with a soft thump that takes my breath away. He holds me against his bare chest and nuzzles into the crook of my neck. Then his hand cradles the back of my head, and he tilts me around until he can kiss me.
The angle has me slightly upside down, resting back against his shoulder but he holds me in place and kisses me so deeply that my head spins. Such a show of possession in front of the others is pretty hot, and heat builds in my core. The longer he kisses me, the hotter I burn. My mind runs on its own.
What about the others? Do they see?
Of course they do.
“In front of the others?” I murmur against his lips when the kiss breaks long enough for me to breathe.
“I think they like it,” Zasha replies. He coaxes me back into a sitting position. Fyodor watches me from his recliner with dark eyes. When our gazes lock onto one another, Zasha slides his hand beneath the hem of my skirt.
I can’t look away. I’m utterly entranced by the calm, hungry look Fyodor gives me while Zasha’s deft fingers slide between my outer lips and dive deep into my core. I gasp and rise upward. Zasha’s other arm loops around my waist and keeps me still. His cast presses lightly into my abdomen and his lips nibble my neck.
Between my legs, his fingers dance, and I’m completely at his mercy. Warmth ignites inside me while his thumb rubs over my clit and two fingers sink rhythmically inside of me. Through it all, Fyodor’s gaze never wavers. The only sound, other than my breathless moans, is the splash of Daniil as he swims back and forth. This act is like a secret that exists only between the three of us.
My knees quiver and my toes curl. Arching back into Zasha’s grip, a loud moan catches me off guard and suddenly the splashing stops. Out of the corner of my eye, Daniil crosses his arms at the poolside and holds himself up as he watches.
Zasha whimpers softly in my ear and my body coils like a spring. I’m completely exposed, despite being fully dressed, and never have I felt more open and seen than I do at this moment. Zasha’s hand twists and he strokes faster and harder. His fingers reach deeper, and then I’m on the brink.
My orgasm hits like a powerful wave, and I come apart in Zasha’s arms under the intense gaze of Fyodor and Daniil.