Page 69 of Baby for the Bratva

I’m a panting mess, my legs like cooked noodles and my cheek hopelessly flushed from the intensity of my experience.

Yuri, on the other hand, is somehow his cool, collected self in an instant, climbing back into his pants and tossing my torn dress to me. “Use some safety pins or something,” he mumbles.

33

Yuri

I’m jolted out of my sleep by the hostile ring of my emergency phone. Stella is so deep into her sleep that she doesn’t stir, but I’ve learned never to sleep too completely. I’m always semiconscious, no matter how good the sex was.

And last night, the sex was a dream. It’s almost too much for me to wrap my head around, but it happened, and I’ll never forget it. I’ll be replaying the bathroom fuck in my head over and over for the rest of my life.

But at this moment, I need to answer the ringing call to action.

I scramble for my phone, pulling it out of the nightstand and jumping out of bed to answer it. I press it to my ear hard, jumping into the bathroom so that I don’t wake Stella up.

“This had better be an emergency,” I growl.

“Not exactly, but you’re still going to want to hear it,” Akim replies. There’s a peculiar brightness in his voice for how early in the morning it is.

“Proceed,” I say, looking at my sleepy face in the mirror. The bags under my eyes haven’t gotten any less noticeable since starting this cruise. I need a real vacation after this one.

“We found him,” Akim blurts.

“Who?” I ask, suddenly alert like I just took a shot of espresso.

“Chekhov. He’s suffering from mild hypothermia, but he’ll be alright. We found him floating on a broken shipping pallet not too far from shore.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “Where do you have him now?”

“We got him to a local doctor, but he’s conscious and he wants to talk to you.”

“Never a day off for that poor bastard. I’ll pay him a visit as soon as I get dressed, but tell him to take it easy,” I say, already rushing back out of the bathroom to get my clothes.

“Right. See you soon, sir.”

I hang up the phone. Akim is a good man. I think a lesser one would’ve left Chekhov in the ocean to die so that he could continue to fill his position. Unfortunately, Akim will be getting demoted as soon as Chekhov is able to recover, but he’ll keep his pay raise. I’m not going to screw him over for doing the right thing.

I throw on a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt from my closet, trying hard to be quiet but ultimately failing to prevent Stella from waking up. As I’m putting on my shoes, I hear her soft voice in the darkness. “Yuri?”

“Keep sleeping, my angel. I’m just going for a meeting. Nothing dangerous.”

She sits up in bed suddenly, blinking at me in the darkness. “If you’re saying that, it means you’re actually doing something dangerous.”

I chuckle, finishing with my shoes and walking toward her. I touch her leg under the blanket. She’s so soft and warm that it makes me want to crawl back in and forget about Chekhov until morning, but it’s important that I speak to him. There’s a lot I can learn about what really happened the night he was pushed overboard.

“I promise you, I’m not doing anything dangerous. It’s just some business stuff. You can go back to sleep,” I assure her.

“You’re lying,” she says. There’s more fear in her voice than anger.

I sigh. “Darling, it’s fine. Dima will be outside to make sure nobody bothers you. You’re safe here.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Don’t be difficult,” I warn. “That ten million isn’t just for your hand in marriage. It’s also for your compliance with my lifestyle.”

She scoffs. “We never agreed on that. I’m worried about you. What has you going out this late?”

“More stuff to do, angel. It’s not that late, actually. It’s almost morning. I’m getting a head start.” I squeeze her leg under the blanket. “Go to sleep and dream of me, darling.”

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