Page 22 of Triplets for the Russian Boss

“I was in shock. Fuck… I mean, I’m still in shock. This has been a wild night,” I reply, flustered again by how he pushes aside my concerns and places his own wants in front of them. He has a way of twisting people to do what he wants them to.

It makes me wonder what kind of father he would be.

I push the thought from my head just as quickly as it came, running through the reasons why I wouldn’t consider Kostin to be father-material. He’s not the kind of man that can handle triplets. He would probably leave them at home to go kill someone, or something stupid like that.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Kostin says, titling his head back.

I push my belly into his curls, as much as I know I shouldn’t. It feels good, like hot water running down my groin, dripping in between my legs and making me climax like a strong showerhead. I have to pull myself out of the fantasy to respond to Kostin.

“I’ve massaged plenty of guys,” I reply, attempting to turn him off.

“Massaged what? Their cocks?” he asks with a chuckle.

I should’ve known he wouldn’t be put off by that. He doesn’t see me as a woman to be cherished or protected. He wouldn’t get jealous or possessive, if all he wanted to do was use me.

And I know that’s what he wants.

I sigh. “Not everything sexual, Kostin. I find your attitude immature.”

“Deal with it,” he replies.

I dig my thumbs hard into his shoulders, anticipating a pained reaction, but he gives me no such satisfaction. In fact, he seems to enjoy me massaging him harder. I can’t win with this man.

“You’re going to like working here,” he says, as I give up trying to hurt him.

“Is that so?” I ask, using a filler line I’ve learned from my night set the club. It keeps people talking, while not requiring me to put any effort in.

Kostin’s deep rumbling voice is much better than the dead silence that befell the room earlier. It cuts through the tension and makes me feel more like my life isn’t spiraling out of control.

“I have a room that you can sleep in, unless you’d prefer to sleep with me,” he says.

“I like to have my privacy,” I reply.

“No problem, but you’ll be locked in for the night. That’s more to keep you safe than anything else. I’ve had guards go nuts on strangers before. It’ll take some time for them to get to know you.”

“Oh, joy,” I reply sarcastically.

“Hey, I’ve done a rather good job of protecting you so far. Don’t be so unappreciative.”

I bite my tongue. He’s not right, but I’m not going to get into a fight with him over his behavior on my first night here. That doesn’t bode well for our future interactions, and I’ve already agreed to three months with him.

To keep me safe… or to keep an eye on me? I’m almost certain it’s the latter.

“Obviously you have to live at the office, but this place was designed to be lived in,” Kostin explains. “We have bedrooms, a bar, and a pool if you like to swim.”

I perk up at the mention of a pool. The only thing that kept me sane, after having the triplets, was swimming laps, but I had to give that up when the late nights of the Diamond Score kicked in. It’s exhausting.

But something tells me that the time I spend at Kostin’s office/house/resort… isn’t going to be all that tiresome. I’ll probably get back into swimming, if staying here is a requirement.

“Can I ever go outside, or anything?” I ask, concerned that I won’t be able to make any more phone calls to the babysitter. She’ll call the cops if I abandon her with the kids.

“No,” Kostin replies sharply. “You can go to the backyard, but if you step one foot off this property then a guard will likely blow your head off.”

“That’s fucked up,” I mutter. “I need tampons.”

“I’ll get them,” he replies.

I laugh. “No way in hell. You’d probably come home with a tube of Chapstick.”

“I’m not that out of touch with a woman’s needs. In fact, some say I’m very much in touch with what women desire,” he purrs.

I know. That’s how this nightmare began.

“I want to go to the store tomorrow, and you can come act like my bodyguard if you want,” I say, sticking to my guns. I have a plan, however flimsy it might be.

Kostin waves his hand in the air. “You’d better get enough for three months,” he replies. “We’re only making one trip.”

I mentally pump my fist. I might actually be able to pull off three months with a Mafia boss after all.

Kostin tilts his head back again, his eyes sparkling with a new mischief. “Do you want to see my pool?”

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