Chapter Eight
Niko
The water falls seductively over her breasts and I have an incredible urge to turn her around and press her up against the tile to fuck her until she forgets her own name. I stare at her swollen lips and I’m instantly hard again thinking about her sucking my cock. She notices, arching her eyebrows.
I shrug. “I told you, when you’re around I’m a walking hard-on.”
Us, naked and showering together. All the lines we’ve crossed, and this is the one that worries me the most. It’s so intimate, me washing her curves, taking my time to touch every inch of her beautiful body. Her shampooing my hair, her fingers massaging my scalp. Caring for each other.
Is it too much for her?
"What," she asks.
"You’re so beautiful.”
She blushes and outlines the tattoo on my left chest as the water washes away my shampoo. “What does this one mean?”
It’s a dagger with an ornate V carved in the handle. The sharp tip appears to be piercing my skin with red black blood dripping from it, but the blade is cracked in the center.
“It means I’ll always be victorious and protect the ones I love. Even if it breaks me in the process.”
“That’s really beautiful. Poetic. I sense a theme with the V. Victory Ranch and Niko means victory.”
“Correct, Printsessa .”
She frowns at me.
“Why don’t you like me calling you Printsessa?”
She runs her finger along another tattoo. “It infers I’m perfect, and I could never live up to the title.”
She's perfect for me.
She runs her fingers over my tattoos, causing all the blood to rush to my groin.
“What does this one mean?”
It’s a champagne flute in the center of my chest. A piece of crumpled paper lies in the bottom of the liquid bubbles and a lit match looks like it’s falling into the glass. The stem of the flute is the face of a clock, the time showing five minutes past midnight.
In Russia, we wash down our wishes with a New Year’sChampagne toast. After the first beat of the countdown, you must write your wish on a small piece of paper, light it on fire, letting the ashes fall into your champagne and drink it all before the clock chimes the twelfth beat, ensuring your dreams will come true. Our Sokolov toast is always the same, burn to ash.
Then, when the clock strikes midnight, we kiss someone we love and chant another Sokolov toast, to family and future .
“It’s my one wish that will never come true. I was too late.”
“Your mother?”
I nod, swallowing my emotions.
I turn her so I can wash her backside, and I admire my bite marks on her shoulder. My hands trail down her spine to her ass, and I play with her round globes as she moans her approval.
I’m about to sink my teeth into her neck, like a vampire, but her voice hints at fear, “Why do you think someone is threatening me?”
“I don’t know Printsessa. ” My brain clicks. “Burn to ash.”
“What?”
The email, the first threat said, Leo zaplatit, a printsessa sgorit dotla .”
“Leo will pay, and the princess will burn to ashes.”
“And then black roses were left at the entrance of the distillery. The card read szhech' printsessu.
“Burn the princess. So why a bomb? The fucker didn’t know what he was doing. I could watch some stupid YouTube videos and do better than him. It doesn’t line up. If he wanted to send a message he should’ve started a fire, although I’m glad he didn’t.”
I repeat, “ Burn the princess to ash.”
“Burn to ashes. Burn to ash?”
“It must mean something.”
Her eyes widen. She jumps out of the shower and grabs a towel, quickly wrapping it around her beautiful curves. I shut off the water and follow her into the bedroom.
She paces back and forth. “Shit.”
I place my hands on her shoulders, stopping her. “Take a deep breath, Bec.”
She inhales and exhales slowly, the towel does nothing to cover up the rise and fall of her gorgeous chest. I force myself to look into her glassy eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I think I know who it is.”
“Get dressed and meet me in my office.”
“But, I need to tell you…”
I cut her off, “Ten more minutes isn’t going to change anything. Get dressed and meet me in my office, okay? I’ll have coffee waiting. We’ll need to get Andrei and Sergei on the phone.”
◆◆◆
The coffee finishes brewing just as she knocks on the door and enters my office. She’s dressed in worn jeans and a loose concert T-shirt.
I make her coffee just how she likes and gesture to the chairs in front of the fireplace. I don’t want a desk between us. Her hands shake when she sets the mug on the coffee table.
I hold her hand in mine and squeeze gently, trying to provide some comfort. “Okay, what has you so upset?”
“I know who is after me.”
“Who?”
“Kira.”
“Kira?”
“My friend from college. The Russian one. I party with her.”
“What makes you think it’s her?”
“You know how we make our New Years Eve wishes? Burn the princess to ash? Ash is the common denominator in every threat. She says that toast all the time. Not just on New Years Eve. Whenever we take a shot or toast our Champagne. No crumpled up paper, no wishes, just the toast. It’s like her thing. I think it's dumb, but she thinks it's funny.”
“Is there anything else that leads you to believe it’s her?”
She hesitates, “Last night she texted me. She was out with Trish and wanted to know where I was, but I was cryptic with my answers. I told her I had family obligations, and typically that would satisfy her, but she kept begging me to come out. She said she stopped by my condo to borrow a dress, but I wasn’t there. She called the distillery looking for me, too. She's never called the distillery before. Anyway, I apologized, and then she invited me to a liquid lunch today. I told her I had to work, but she didn’t let it go. She circled back and asked me where I was again, teasing me that I had a hot date with my vibrator.”
“We’ll return to that later.”
She snorts, “Whatever. I finally ended the text, telling her I’d call her today.”
“She’s Russian. Is she connected?”
“No, but her family lived there until she was sixteen.”
"But why would she want to harm you? You’ve known each other since college. I thought you were friends."
Becca
I bite my lip. “I’m not sure.”
“Liar.”
“I really don’t know.”
“You aren’t the only good poker player, Printsessa . You’re lying.”
I huff, “Is that so? What’s my tell?”
“You wrap an imaginary piece of hair around your ear.”
I think back. “Fuck.”
“You’ve earned yourself a spanking. Now tell me.”
I gasp and stand. “I’m really not comfortable telling you.”
“We need to know.”
Embarrassment and anger suffocates me. I can’t do this. “I’m definitely not comfortable telling anyone else. I don’t want to relive it.”
“What the fuck? Relive it? Did someone harm you?” He looks like he wants to light the world on fire.
“Niko, I can’t.”
He stands, grabs my waist, turns me so quickly that I’m dizzy, and before I know it, I’m leaning over the front of his desk. He reaches around and quickly unbuttons and unzips my jeans, yanking them down to my knees and taking my panties with them.
“What in the fuck, Niko!” I try to stand and reach for my jeans but his torso presses heavily on my back and his hands catch my wrists. He knocks everything off his desk, and papers go flying. He presses a button in the center of the wooden desktop and a latch clicks open, revealing two large eyehooks screwed into the wood with thin leather straps connected. He wraps the leather around my wrists and secures it tightly. When he stands I try to kick him, but he easily evades my attempt. I try to free my hands but I’m tied to this metal contraption hidden in the top of his desk.
He leans down to my ear, creating goosebumps in his wake. His tone is angry, “I told you I’d do anything necessary to keep you safe. Lying and withholding information doesn’t keep you safe.”
“But! You don’t have to spank me! Can’t you do something else?”
“I could fuck your lying mouth?”
I lash out with embarrassment, “How do you even have this contraption hidden in the top of your desk? You kinky fuck!”
His large hands caress my ass and he chuckles an evil laugh. “You bet I am. So are you, baby.”
“I am not!”
“Another lie.” I hear the smack before I feel the harsh sting of his hand against my ass. It’s harder than when he’s spanked me before, and it takes the wind out of me. He loosely wraps his hand around my neck, caressing it softly.
“Breath, Becca.”
“I…. I.. can’t.”
He leans against my back and gently sucks on my earlobe. The weight of his body is comforting. “I’ve got you, baby. Inhale slowly. That’s it. Now exhale. Good girl.”
My pussy clenches around nothing.
I manage to slow my breathing, but when he stands I miss the weight of his body. It felt like he was protecting me, soothing me with his strong hold, while he executed his punishment. I try to arch back but my position doesn’t offer any slack. He raises my shirt and his fingers easily flick my bra open, my bare nipples are flush with the cool wood. His hands find my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. He pinches both of them and I yelp, but he doesn’t let up.
He releases and I barely have time to catch my breath before he pinches again, even harder and I swear my feet leave the ground.
“Oh!”
He continues to roll my hard buds and I swear I see stars. Just when I don’t think I can take anymore, he frees my breasts. I catch my breath right before his palm strikes my ass multiple times. He alternates cheeks and each spanking is harsher than the last. These are meant to cause pain, to punish me.
“Are you going to lie to me?” His lusty tone is authoritative.
“No!”
“Are you going to tell me the reason for your stalker?”
I sob, “I can’t, Niko.” I want to tell him but I dread putting the words out into the universe. It'll give it life. I know that's stupid because I've already lived through it.
He continues his wrath and I lose count, but at some point the spankings sting less, pulsing directly to my soaked core. A moan escapes me as tears stream down my cheeks. I am so wet, so soaked, and I can’t believe the pleas leaving my mouth.
“Oh God. Yes! Please!”
“Does my Printsessa like to be spanked?”
“No!”
He smacks me hard. “Are you forgetting the lesson? No lying!”
“Shit! Yes, I like you spanking me!”
His chuckle is seductive. “Not much of a punishment if you’re enjoying it.”
“Don’t stop!”
But he does and I groan, banging my forehead against the desk with frustration. I hear him move behind me, open a drawer and close it. When he returns, he drags a chair with him, and when he sits I swear his nose is lined up with my ass.
“Niko? What are you doing?”
“Changing tactics.”
He smacks my ass and my sex hits against the wood of the desk. I try to grind against anything to soothe the ache.
“Greedy printsessa .”
“Please!”
“Tell me why this Russian Kira is stalking you, threatening you.”
“I…I can’t.”
His hands press against my inner thighs, spreading my legs apart.
“You smell so good, you taste like heaven, and you feel like home.”
Before I can dissect his words, I hear a buzzing sound as he presses a vibrator against my drenched opening.
“I’m going to fuck your pussy with this vibrator, and after you’ve coated it with your juices, I’m going to slide it into this pretty little hole.” He presses his thumb against my forbidden hole and I squeak.
“Ever taken anyone back here?”
“No.”
“Ever wanted to?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Fuck,” he growls.
He slides the vibrator into my opening and it feels amazing, but I want more. I need more. I need him.
“Niko, please. I need you.”
“This is supposed to be a punishment.”
“I can’t te….tell you.”
“You will. I wouldn’t make you if it weren’t necessary.”
He lines the vibrator against my ass, as his finger runs up my slit and his breath hitches. “You are so wet, baby.”
His phone, laying on the desk, lights up and I see the name Veronica flash across the screen. A text message reads, I’m around big guy if you still want to meet. Our usual place?
My brain goes haywire and my heart sinks. I was wrong about us. I’m just filling in until he meets up with her.
What is this? What are we? We’re insane and this is insanity, utter insanity. I was starting to believe we had something special, but the truth is it's temporary. I’m just another plaything for him to satisfy his kinky urges.
I’m such an idiot. He’s just fucking around with me because I’m here. He’s stuck with me, but he'd prefer Veronica.
I’m not Veronica, and honestly, I don’t want to be Veronica.
I want more.
He pumps two fingers into me and it feels so fucking good, but my head is reeling, and I'm sobbing.
“Niko.”
“Fuck, baby.”
“Niko!”
“You feel so good.”
“Niko, stop!”
He immediately removes his fingers and unclasps my wrists. I fall into his arms and he carries me to the couch. He quickly dresses me, the entire time apologizing.
“I’m so sorry, Becca, did I hurt you? Fuck. I’m so sorry. God please.”
Emotions hit me like a runaway train. Embarrassment, lust, vulnerability, apprehension. I hiccup on my tears, unable to look at him, curling into myself.
He kneels beside me, and his voice is heavy. “Bec?”
I choke out a whisper, “You… you didn’t do anything.” He didn’t. But I can’t do this. I need more.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t…. I don’t know.” I sit up but he remains on his knees. It’s so weird to see such a beast of a man exposed. I doubt many people experience this Niko. That and the concern in his eyes gives my heart hope. Maybe, just maybe.
He remains silent, patiently waiting for me to continue. “What are we doing? One minute we’re at each other’s throats, and the next…. I’m so embarrassed.”
He face squinches up in pain, like I’ve punched him in the stomach. “Why the fuck are you embarrassed?”
My voice raises in frustration, “I wanted you, followed you around like a lost puppy for years. Years! And you didn’t give me the time of day.”
“You were jailbait, and I was proving myself to Andrei.”
“And then you dismissed me on my twenty-first birthday.”
“You were drunk.”
“And humiliated, hurt.”
“I wanted you, Becca. I did.”
As much as I want him to repeat that sentence, I have to get this out. “And for the last how many years we’ve bickered with each other. I’ve hated it, but at least I understood it. Understood my role.” I sigh, “and now I’m here and we’ve done…. you’ve done. I’ve done….. Shit.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Not physically, no.”
“Fuck, Bec, don’t you trust me?”
“To protect me from stalkers? Yes. But, my heart… I don’t know if I can trust myself.”
“I don’t understand. You don’t trust yourself how?”
“I don’t want to be another Veronica.”
“Veronica?”
“Do I have to spell it out! I’m terrified to fall in love with you!”
His breath catches as his mouth falls open. He stands and rakes his hands through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
My body stiffens as he paces back and forth.
“I’m such an idiot.” He grabs a paperweight and I brace for him to throw it at the wall, but he doesn’t. He takes a deep breath, sets the object down and stares at me. His expression hard to read.
“Becca, I screwed up. This is such a mess.”
I expected it, but my heart still shatters. I beeline towards the door of his office, muttering, “it’s okay. We’re good. Let’s just forget everything.”
He grabs my hand and turns me toward him, but I can’t bear to look at his face. “Please don’t mention this to anyone. Can we just pretend it never happened?”
“No.”
“Please, Niko.”
“No.”
His hands gently cup my cheeks. “Look at me, Becca.” His beautiful dark eyes search mine for something. “I’m sorry.”
I open my mouth but he gives me a look that no one would argue with.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you how I felt years ago. At the very least, I should’ve told you last night. Baby, Becca, my Printsessa . I want you. Not just for one night, one week, or some temporary sexfest. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t want to put an expiration date on it.”
I think my heart stopped but somehow I’m still standing. “Niko,” I breathe.
“We’re both new to relationships, and I’ve gone about this, us, all wrong. I’ve been treating you like a one-night-stand, but I don’t want that. I want more. I want to give you everything. I want you, and I need you for as long as you’ll have me.” He sighs, “Look, Bratva men never do anything right or normal. But, if you’re willing to give me another chance,” his sheepish smile locks hold of my heart, “I want to try this again.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to love you, Becca.”
I shake my head, unsure I heard him correctly.
He takes my hand and leads me towards the door, “Come on.”
“Where? What?”
“I’m going to prove it to you.”
◆◆◆
His chest rumbles with a groan as he lays me gently on the bed. He undresses me slowly with intention, his eyes full of adoration and aw. I’m not sure I want to even try to comprehend this. If I do, I might wake up.
He drops his face into the crook of my neck, his beard scratches me and his warm breath teases my skin. He whispers, “Your scent, your touch, your everything, Becca, you are my everything.”
His glassy black eyes hold the same vulnerability as my heart. He wraps his palm around my nape and gently pulls my face to his, and his lips brush against mine, light as a whisper. This kiss is different. Slow, soft, gentle.
“You’ve always been my everything.”
He catches my gasp with his mouth and makes a satisfied growl in the back of his throat, as he slips his tongue against mine. His lips, his hands, there’s no hesitation, like he’s been waiting for this, for me. This kiss is full of so many feelings. Passion, affection, permanence- the future is in this kiss. My body buzzes, and I allow myself to fall into this moment, drowning, yet protected, in his arms.
I run my fingers through his hair and the kindling need burns into a flame so hot. And I’m a moth to that flame, ripping off his T-shirt and relishing his body, muscles, scars, tattoos, everything that makes him Niko.
He sits back on his heels and stares at my pussy like it’s a work of art. “So beautiful.” Shock hits me when he dives his nose into my wet sex, breathing in my scent. I wiggle under him but his palms brace my inner thighs, keeping them where he wants them.
He lifts his head, his beard wet from my arousal, I try to protest but he orders, “Don’t even think about hiding this pretty pussy from me. My pussy.”
He plants chaste kisses on my inner thighs, slowly finding his way back to my slit, and I sigh when he finally slides his tongue across it.
“I will never tire of your taste. I want you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But I can’t wait another second to make love to you.”
I gasp, unsure I heard him correctly.
His mouth hovers over mine, and I don’t breathe, too scared to break this spell.
“This isn’t just sex, Becca. I’m in love with you, and I’ll prove it to you for the rest of my life. You come first, always, and when my final moment comes, when I’m bleeding out, you will be my last thought. Your name will fall with my last breath.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer, once again covering my lips with his. This kiss is so much. It’s our past and our future all in one, regrets, forgiveness, hope, passion, affection, and promise.
He trails kisses to my neck where his tongue traces my frantically beating pulse. I writhe against him, and when his fingers close over my nipple and squeeze, a bolt of pleasure strums between my thighs. I moan his name.
Our hands explore each other, each touch building until we both ignite into a fire so hot, and I want nothing more than to be eaten up by his flames.
I can feel his body shake as he pushes his cock against my entrance, his pace excruciatingly slow.
“Please, Niko!”
“I want to feel every inch of you.” I do feel every inch of him, as he stretches me with his huge cock. When he’s fully seated in me, he pauses, allowing my body to adjust to his. He’s so big. I feel whole. Last night he took me rough and hard, and I loved it, but this…. This is different.
But I’m impatient and I buck up.
He chuckles. “My greedy Printsessa .”
He slowly pulls out and glides back in, over and over, making love to me, his cock rubbing against my clit, sending sparks of pleasure through me, while murmuring sweet Russian in my ear, Moy, Zhizn’ moya .
I need more, and I cling to his muscular ass slanting my pelvis to meet his girth faster, harder, my sex clinching around his cock, strangling his shaft.
“Fuck, Becca.”
“I need you, Niko.”
We both become desperate, and he drives into me hitting the spot no other man has ever touched.
“Oh, God, Niko. Yes!”
He covers my mouth in a passionate kiss as he drives his cock into me. Our kiss is full of incomprehensible feelings but our fucking is pure, hot attraction. Heat coils low in my stomach, my pleasure building, as we chase our release together.
“Come, Becca. Come with me,” He orders and my body breaks apart, my pussy spasming around his cock as he fills me.
His slick chest leans against mine as we pant for oxygen, his cock pulsing inside me, both of us not wanting to separate, afraid the connection will break if we do.
Somehow he manages to lay on his back, switching our positions so I’m now on his chest, his cock still inside me. I grind against him and he moans.
“Don’t tease me, Printsessa .”
I wrap my legs over his hips and buck slightly, feeling his cock harden inside me.
“Do you want to ride me, baby?”
“Maybe,” I say with sweet innocence.
His eyes darken and his lips twitch, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He grips my hips and lifts me to only bring me down with a rough yank. I land hard, feeling every bit of his cock. His grip on my hips tightens as he guides me and I ride him hard, each time trying to pull him deeper inside me, but if he gets any deeper he’ll be in my throat. I had no idea there was another orgasm left in me, but I can’t get enough of Niko.
My nerve endings ignite with each deep thrust as I scratch his chest, feeling the heat building.
“Scratch me, baby. Give it to me,” he growls.
Everything he says is so fucking sexy, and I feel my orgasm take me over. I throw back my head as my eyes roll in ecstasy and I scream his name. He falls over the edge with me his scream just as loud and his orgasm just as hard.
I collapse onto his chest, and he rolls over and pulls my back into him. He peppers me with sweet kisses, and we slowly return to reality completely sated in each other’s arms. I’ve never felt so thoroughly fucked yet so loved and cared for at the same time.
My eyes are heavy and I’m about to fall asleep when he clears his throat. “I hate doing this, but we still need to talk.” He shifts out of the bed and pulls on a pair of gray sweatpants.
“Niko,” I moan like a petulant child.
“I’ll be right back.” He leaves, and I pull on one of his T-shirts, enjoying his scent. When he returns with a couple bottles of water he stops dead in his tracks.
“This, I could get on board with this, you in my T-shirt and no panties, but it’s for my eyes only.”
I blush, and he chuckles, sitting back against the headboard and pulling me into him.
He hands me a bottle of water and studies me with careful tenderness.
“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Why is Kira out to get you?”
Niko
It hurts me to see the pain and embarrassment flash across her beautiful face.
She drinks her water, and for a moment, I think she’s going to refuse me, but her shoulders square up and she exhales.
“I had this handsome professor. His nickname was Silver Fox, and all the girls on campus were interested, even me. After a couple weeks of eyeing each other and flashing flirty smiles, he returned one of my papers with his phone number written at the top.
"I’d like to say it took me awhile to call him, to say I was racked with guilt for even considering dating my professor, but that would be a lie. I called him that night.
"At first, we just talked and texted. It was sweet, how he didn’t want to rush things, and he was really concerned about both of our reputations. A professor dating a student is one thing but I was a student in his class.
"Our first date, he took me to a fancy restaurant. It was an hour away, and his reasoning was again, my reputation. I thought it was really considerate of him. After a couple weeks of dinners, he whisked me away to Mount Zion for the weekend.”
She inhales and exhales but continues, her voice slightly stronger than before.
“After that, things heated up fast. I’d meet him in his office for a quick fuck on his desk. Or, we’d sneak into storage closets so I could suck him off. I found it all extremely exciting, the secrecy and possibility of getting caught. One time, I let him fuck me in his classroom, anyone could’ve walked in.
“We were out of control. The entire time he continued to spoil me, buying me jewelry, taking me on weekend trips. I thought we had a future together.”
She snickers, “We dated five months before I discovered he was married. His beautiful wife made a visit to the classroom and imagine my surprise. I stormed into his office and lost my shit. I was furious, with him and with myself. I couldn’t believe I was the other woman. Needless to say, I broke up with him. That should’ve been the end of us.”
My need to protect her seethes through my blood and my heart bangs against my ribs. Hearing about some other guy fucking her makes me see red, but I bite my tongue so she’ll continue.
“His class was tough and he had a reputation for the highest failure rate. I was a good student, and I was proud of my solid B. Until he started failing me. It didn’t matter that my work was correct.”
“Motherfucker.”
“I went to his office and lost my shit again, but he wasn’t fazed. I played right into his hands. He graciously offered to raise my grade, to what it was supposed to be, mind you, but it was going to cost me. I told him he already costed me five months of my life and he could go fuck himself. I threatened to go to the Dean, but he blocked the door, locking us in. Then, I really saw him for the monster he was, when he threw me across the room and my body slammed against his credenza. It felt like hitting a brick wall. His laugh was sick and disgusting, like he was enjoying my pain. And he was. I was in absolute shock. He kicked and punched me, cracking my ribs and gifting me a split lip. But get this, after beating me he fucking helped me up. Can you believe that? Helped me up! Talk about mind fuckery at its best.”
My fists clench, anger boiling in my chest. When I find this fucker he is going to suffer. I’m going to break all of his ribs and slice him into so many pieces, he’s going to beg for his death.
“He threatened to go to the Dean himself. He didn’t care about my last name. The one person who didn’t give a fuck that I was Becca Sokolov. He said , 'I know you’re a Sokolov, but if you tell anyone, I’ll post videos ' . He had recorded us when we were together. Only my face was visible, me in precarious positions or my mouth wrapped around his dick. There was no way Zoya or my Pop could see that. He said he’d return my grade to a B and we could forget anything happened if I sucked him off one last time. He promised to destroy the videos and leave me alone.”
I pull her into my chest and squeeze tightly, wishing I could've been there to protect her. I'm never letting her go.
“I did it because I just wanted to be done with him. I feel like such an idiot. He had no intention of raising my grade, and he continued to blackmail me.”
She chokes on a sob. “First it was blowjobs, but by the time it was over he had raped me five times. He atoned himself each time, saying he wasn’t forcing himself because we had dated and fucked numerous times before.”
I cradle her in my arms and she hides her face in my chest.
I whisper, “I’m so sorry you carried this with you all these years. I wish… I wish so many things. That I could’ve stopped him, comforted you, killed him. I’m still going to kill him.”
She lifts her head to me. “There’s more.”
“I’m here.”
“I made it through the semester, got my B, and vowed to never take any of his courses, but we were far from over.”
I squeeze her arm gently, trying to give her the strength she needs.
“Just to be clear, Kira uses her mom’s last name, because Professor Small Dick was some important Russian Senator, when they lived there.”
“Okay.” I drag out the word.
“Fast forward to just a couple months ago. Mira invited us to her parents annual Fourth of July party. She’d invited me years before but for some reason or another I could never make it. I was either traveling or had family commitments. But this year I went to her party, and guess who answers the fucking door?”
“Professor Small Dick?”
“Bingo. With his wife hanging on his arm. Luckily, he went along and pretended we didn’t know each other, but I thought I was going to pass out or vomit, or both. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The professor I had an affair with and who blackmailed me for sexual favors was Kira’s father. He didn’t even have a Russian accent!
“I wanted to race out of there, but I knew it would be suspicious. So I tried to steer clear of him, hoping enough time had passed that he’d leave me be. And he did. I didn’t see him most of the night. But my anxiety was sky high and I drank to calm my nerves. I drank way too much and eventually passed out in a guest room.”
She swallows heavily, “I woke up naked with him on top of me. I screamed. Mira ran in, her mother ran in, and he immediately accused me of coming on to him. He said he was just checking on me and I threw myself at him. Of course he was still dressed, and I was so drunk I couldn’t articulate what happened. It didn’t matter, they refused to listen. I was the slut, the whore, the one who took advantage of him.”
“I’ll slice him into a hundred pieces.”
“Mira threw me out, calling me every name in the book and accusing me of ruining her family. I think deep down she knew he’d been doing this type of shit all along, but she wasn’t going to air their dirty laundry. That was it, I left and we stopped talking. I even stopped talking to Trish. I was pissed how everything went down, but honestly, I was okay with ending our friendships.”
“I remember that.”
“Why?”
“When I’m not torturing someone or meeting a shipment or some other Bratva task, I’m making sure you get home safe.”
“You do? You have? For how long?”
“Since you could drink.”
She laughs lightly, “I knew I had secret bodyguards but I never expected you. I don’t know what to say. That screams creepy stalker but for some reason, I feel special.”
“You are special and I’m Bratva. It’s what we do.”
“Maybe two or three weeks ago Kira reached out to me, and we started talking again. Her and Trish invited me out and we fell into our old habits. I don’t have many friends and I hate to admit it, but I really wanted her forgiveness.”
“For something you didn’t do?”
“I did have an affair with him.”
“Unknowingly.”
“Still.”
“Well we know her motive for wanting to harm you. Do you think Trish is involved?”
“No, at least I don’t’ think so.”
“Is Kira knowledgeable in hacking and software programming?”
“No, but she has an on and off fuckship with her Russian bodyguard, Ivan. I remember her bragging how he hacked into some heavily secured building. I wasn't really listening.”
Dread and rage engulf me, but I brace myself and ask, “Becca, tell me the truth, did my roughness cause you trauma?”
Her eyes widen. “Because of him? No! Please don’t think that. I saw Veronica’s text and it made me suspicious and insecure. I didn't want to be just another Veronica.”
“You aren’t. You are so much more.”
She hesitates. “Niko, I’ve never said this in all of my twenty-eight years, so if you make fun of me or tease me, beware, because you will lose your balls.”
I laugh at her threat, grateful because there’s my Becca. I jut out my little finger, “Pinky promise.”
“Your dick will be the size of your pinky if you so much as chuckle. Don’t even smile!”
But I do smile, “Then stop being adorable.”
“I can’t help it.” She bites her bottom lip and I groan.
“Fuck, woman. Okay.” My voice turns serious and I take her hand in mine. “Really, tell me.”
“It’s more of a question.”
“There’s very little I won’t do for you.”
She smiles shyly, “Will you be my boyfriend?”