Page 20 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

“Earth to Cinnamon,” Angel’s high pitched, scratchy voice claws in my ears, and I glare at her from the corner of my eye.

“What?”

“Cinnamon,” she whines. God, I hate when she says my stripper name. “You’re up, bitch!”

I roll my eyes and click my phone close as Angel tries to look over my shoulder. “Stop being nosey, Rebecca.”

Angel gasps, “You are not allowed to use real government names! I am telling Dylan!”

“While you’re at it, tell him you’re cheating on him with the fucking DJ,” I snarl and Angel stomps her foot, her straw blonde hair stiffly flying behind her. I groan and slide on my strappy black heels to complete my outfit as I make my way backstage and signal to Justin, the sleazy DJ, that I’m ready.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your favorite spice,” the lights swarm around before landing on me at the opening between the curtains, “Cinnamon.”

Immediately, Justin starts to playDrop it like it’s hot,and I swivel my hips as I make my way on stage.

The bass thumps in my chest, drowning out the leering stares of the audience. I plaster on a dazzling smile, but my mind is already miles away. As I twirl around the pole, I search for the quickest exit strategy. The acrid smell of desperation and cheap cologne fills the air, making me want to gag. I glance around the room, and my eyes land on the regular who loves me.

I lean down in front of him putting my tits on display. The regular old man, with a stack of 5’s and hair only behind his ears, smiles as I crawl over and run my hand over the bald part of his head.

“Hey pops, you came here to see dirty little me?”

“You know I can't go a week without my dose of cinnamon.” He smiles, sliding a five into the left cup of my bra. As I leaned in closer to the regular, his breath tinged with whiskey hits my face. I force a giggle, a hollow sound that mingles with the throbbing music. A wave of nausea washes over me, but I push it down and sling my body around so I am sitting on the heels of my feet.

“Well, you know I am always happy to oblige, Pops.” I smile, but the minute I get up, another wave hits me and I almost stumble back. The room feels too hot, too crowded, and I can't shake the feeling of suffocation that threatens to overwhelm me.

Pops leans over and smacks my calf as he wiggles a five in his hand. “Make it good for me.”

I nod and maintain my seductive smile despite the nausea churning in my stomach. As the music blares on, driving pulses of adrenaline through me, I dance with practiced ease. I smile at the right times, but the minute I hook my knee around the pool and swing, I gag for the first time.

“Baby, don’t tell me you don’t have a gag reflex?” a rando in the back who I can’t see yells over the music, but I ignore him, shimming down the pole and flinging my hair back. I attempt to do my signature move again, hooking my right leg behind the pole, but then a wave of dizziness that sends the stage spinning before my eyes. I stagger mid-twirl, barely able to keep my balance as bile rises in my throat.

“Fuck,” I cough, flinging my fingers up at Justin and running off stage as fast as I can. I barely make it past the curtains when I vomit all over the floor backstage.

“What the hell?” Dylan snaps but stops mid-sentence as he watches me heave over my pile of vomit. “You know you arenot supposed to come into work sick. What would have happened if you threw up on a fucking customer, Gwen?”

“I’m not sick,” I heave, taking as many deep breaths as possible.

“The fuck you are,” Dylan scoffs, pointing at me and the vomit.

“I’m pregnant!” I snap before standing up and wiping my mouth with my arm.

“Shit,” Dylan whispers, shaking his head.

“I know.”

9

NIKOLAI

Five Years Later

“Nikolai, you open up this instant, or so help me,” Nadia, my little sister and second in command of the New York Russian Mafia, growls.

“Didn’t I tell you five minutes?” I grunt, loud enough for her to hear, my slowly softening dick sitting in the mouth of a blonde who’s been working on my cock for the last thirty minutes.

The memory of her soft skin, loose black curls, her taste on my lips, her eyes filled with adoration, desire, and innocence waiting to be corrupted invades my mind, and for the first time since this girl got on her knees, I can feel the pressure in my balls growing. For the past five years, this is the only way I can cum, with the image of Gwen invading my mind. My Kotik. My obsession. The woman who I should have tied to my bed and refused to let her escape me.Fuck, I’m almost there.

Nadia’s impatient rattling of the doorknob grows louder, startling the blonde beneath me, and I grimace when the blonde’s teeth scrape against my length. I wrap my hand around her hair, jerking her off of me.

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