Page 37 of Captured By the Bratva

“Thank you for having everything under control,” I told Kenneth before I left.

He nodded and smirked. “Of course. Of course. Are you heading out?”

“I am.”To get back to Becca.I didn’t have to stay with her at that house. The men guarding it would keep her and Emily safe there. Now that I’d made the drive into the city, it would make more sense to stay here. Maybe even hang out at the club and try to lose this grip Becca had on me without even trying to snare me or seduce me. According to what I’d told her, she was there as a hostage. It wasn’t surprising that she wouldn’t take the initiative to approach me.

But I suspected that I wasn’t alone in this awareness. Any time I came into the room, she tensed. I felt her eyes on me,always watching. Any time I helped with Emily, she went quiet and watched me so carefully, so full of wonder and appreciation that I felt like I was impressing her. That I was fitting into her life as more than a criminal and thug who’d taken her.

She’d been so responsive to both my teasing with the knife and then when I’d lost control and fucked her hard. I still recalled with clarity how she’d cried aloud and sounded so sweetly blissed out.

“Veronica was asking for you specifically yesterday,” Kenneth said, arching one brow.

I didn’t reply, staring at him and knowing he wouldn’t lie. Not about that. Veronica was a regular, loaded with money and an insatiable sex drive. If she wasn’t at one of the Bratva’s operated sex clubs, she’d be at another elsewhere. The older woman had no scruples about seeking out pain and pleasure, and to my knowledge, she'd never once uttered a safe word.

Long ago, I got a thrill out of sharing a room with her. Years ago. She’d entertained me with the notion that I could do whatever I wanted. I could fulfill my darkest, most depraved kinks. And she’d tolerated it—no, she’d thrived on it. At first, I realized she was an adrenaline and danger junkie, needing to be pushed too far to be turned on and let go. After a while, though, it lost its appeal.

Still, she claimed years ago that I was the “best” at making her happy.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes as I wondered about the woman ten years my senior. “What is she on, husband four or five now?”

He smirked. “Six, I believe.”

We had dossiers and profiles for all the clientele at LeVant’s. He wasn’t gossiping. But that fact dissuaded me further from spending time with her.

Hell, I wasn’t interested in spending time with anyone but Becca, and the lines were set too deep in stone to mark us as enemies, as untouchable.

“Have a good night,” I told him as I left, not even bothering to comment on Veronica missing me at any club. I’d never given any guest, any subbie, any woman the impression that I was open for anything more than a singular, no-strings fling.

Except you.I thought of Becca with every mile that my car sped until I returned to the vacation villa.

I nodded at the guards patrolling as I entered, and I quietly locked the door behind me. All was silent, and I grinned to myself, pleased that asking Margie to come and help was the smartest thing I’d done in a long while. She was a godsend, ideal to help with any hardship or trouble. I wasn’t shocked that she’d somehow helped fussy Emily stay down for the night.

Without making a noise, I headed for Becca’s room. No matter how busy I was, no matter where I went or what I worked on, Ialwayschecked that she was sleeping. Some nights, I couldn’t—when she was up trying to get Emily back to sleep and I was awake as well.

Tonight, she lay alone in her bed. Emily was in her room down the hall, near Margie’s, I bet.

I stalled, watching Becca as she rested, and I felt comforted at seeing her content. Making her comfortable appeased something stupid in me, something that felt like too many messy emotions.

Something like love. And a man like me would never qualify in that department where she was concerned.

Instead of risking her waking and catching me spying on her, I turned and went to my suite. In the bathroom, I stripped and turned on the water, needing the soothing, pounding pressure of the water to clean me and also provide me with the lubrication to jerk off to the memory of her coming for me in the city.

I panted, breathing hard at the force of my orgasm, but I snapped out of the trance of bliss. A sound reached my ears, past the droning thrum of the water, aside from the fan spinning.

I tensed, turning my head to the side.

Right outside the door stood Becca, her red hair noticeable through the frosted surface of the door.

And she was staring right at me.

The idea of her catching me masturbating turned me on all over again.

Blinking once, twice, then wiping the water from my eyes, I wondered if it was a dream. Another fantasy.

It wasn’t.

She stood there, and I smiled at what she might do if I yanked the door open and hauled her under the water in here with me.

14

---