“I frighten you?” Yvgeny turned so he was facing her fully. “You know you have nothing to fear from me. I’d rather die than harm you.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’d protect me.” She whispered the last part. She licked her lips, and he looked down to watch the act. His cock started to get hard at the thought of kissing her, just wrapping his hand around the back of her head and fucking her mouth with his lips and tongue.
He’d claim her.
He’d make Alexa his.
He’d say fuck all his “good” intentions to stay away from her and finally be with her again.
Yvgeny wanted her like he needed to breathe, like the Bratva was his entire life.
I want her in my life. I want her at my side, ruling over this empire.
He turned from her, ran a hand over his hair, and breathed out. He wanted her by his side and ruling this empire with him? What the fuck was he thinking? He couldn’t have her that close, not because he didn’t trust her, but because she would be put in danger. By being with him, being his, Alexa could get hurt. Someone could fuck with her to get to him. Of course they’d have to be a fucking fool to fuck with him and the Bratva, but it wasn’t impossible to conceive of, and because of that, he fought with himself to stay away.
“We’d better go, Alexa.” He cleared his throat. “You know what’s going on at the club being set up for Aleczander.”
She took a second to respond, but finally nodded and said, “Okay.” She licked her lips again, and he clenched his hands into tight fists at his side. It was back to business. That was all that it could be with her.
Right?
3
Belayev blasted through the speakers, the club empty aside from Aleczander and his men and other Bratva family. Scantily clad women were either working a pole, serving drinks and food, or “servicing” the Bratva.
But they were all willing, all eager to be there.
Yvgeny glanced over at where he knew Alexa was standing. She spoke with Natasha and Vasilisa. He couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t help but want to go over to her and take her away from all of this.
He didn’t want her here, didn’t want her to witness the sexual atmosphere that Aleczander and the rest of the Russians were engaged in.
Yvgeny wanted to pull her away from it all, take her back to his place, to strip her naked, to tell her he loved her.
I love her.
“I want her.”
Yvgeny glanced at Aleczander. The other man was staring at where the three women were.
“The redhead. I want her.” He pointed his now empty shot glass toward Vasilisa.
Yvgeny gestured for one of the waitresses to bring over a fresh bottle of alcohol.
“You’ll bring her to me so I can speak with her.” Aleczander’s voice was slightly slurred, his Russian deeper, a little thicker.
They’d been drinking for the last three hours. Aleczander and the other three men he’d come with were well past drunk and going into blackout territory. But they wanted to enjoy themselves, and Yvgeny would make sure their time in the States would be memorable.
He tipped his chin at Vasilisa. She saw him and came right over.
“Sir?” she said softly, looking at Yvgeny, seeming a little nervous for some reason. She was in a pencil skirt and blouse, her red hair piled up, and the glasses she wore made her look more like an innocent librarian than the tough as nails woman that worked for Yvgeny.
But she was involved with the Bratva, so she had to be pretty fucking strong in her own right.
Yvgeny looked at Aleczander, who was totally focused on her. “I’ll leave you to it then,” Yvgeny said and stood. Vasilisa looked confused at first, but she schooled her expression and sat down beside the other man. He could hear them speaking in Russian, as was nearly everyone in the club tonight. But Yvgeny didn’t care about anyone or anything right now, not unless it concerned the one woman he told himself he shouldn’t have.
Instead of going right toward Alexa and Natasha, Yvgeny went over to the bar. He didn’t need anything else to drink and was already pretty buzzed. But a shot sounded a hell of a lot safer than going over to the woman he loved.
“Vodka,” he said to the bartender and leaned against the counter. He turned his head and watched Alexa. She started laughing about something Natasha said, and the sight of her smiling did something to his entire body. Only she could bring out this kind of light in him.
No, she didn’t bring it out in him. She gave it to him.
She was the light to his pitch-black soul.