Page 14 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Not really.”

He brakes hard, stopping the car in the middle of the road. “Tell me what’s so fucking funny, Charlie, or I fucking swear to God, I’m going to get out and throw you over my knee and spank the living hell out of you right here and now.”

I can hear the anger in his voice, and I know this isn’t just an idle threat. Keeping my eyes glued to his steering wheel, I say, “He lives down a really lousy dirt road up here on the left that’s like two miles long. It will destroy your car.”

He gets his phone and makes another call as we start driving again. When he hangs up, he mutters, “Would’ve been nice if you’d mentioned that a bit earlier.”

I smile to myself but keep quiet. After a few minutes, I see the turn off for Jinx’s private road and the two large, black trucks that are parked along the entrance, waiting for us. Mikhail pulls the Aston Martin in front of them, safely parking his precious car so it won’t get ruined before shutting it off and getting out. I do the same, figuring he won’t just let me sit here while he goes in.

As soon as I’m out, he’s there, grabbing onto my wrist and pulling me towards one of the trucks. The passenger side door opens, and a man I don’t recognize gets out and nods his head at Mikhail. I freeze at the sight of him. He’s dressed in full tactical gear like the two men I saw earlier, and the sight of the large gun he has strapped to his back is a painful reminder of how dangerous these men are. The man climbs into the truck bed while Mikhail takes his spot. I’m wondering where the fuck I’m supposed to go when he reaches down and grabs me, pulling me onto his lap.

“Hey!” I yell, but he ignores me and wraps an arm around my waist, holding me tightly against him so I can’t jump out even if I wanted to.

“Nice to see you again, Charlie,” the driver says with a laugh. He’s the one with the neck scar and tattoo.

“What’s your name?” I ask, because I might as well know who my captors are.

“Artyom,” he says right before Mikhail growls something at him.

Artyom looks like he’s fighting a smile as he starts the truck and pulls around the Aston Martin to follow the dirt road. I look behind me and see three large men in the backseat, looking just as armed and scary as the others. I don’t bother asking their names.

I eye the empty space between Mikhail and Artyom on the bench seat. “I can sit between you two, you know? I won’t be able to run.”

My answer is a tightening of his hand on my hip as he scoots me closer against him. Seeing his tanned, muscled forearm pressed tightly against my waist has the truck suddenly feeling way too small. I try to keep distance between us, but with his strong grip and the insane number of potholes in this damn road that have me jostling around in his lap, it’s impossible. I suck in a quick breath when the next pothole sends my ass grinding into his left thigh and I feel the hard length of him beneath me.

He lets out a soft laugh when I try to wiggle away and digs his fingers into my hip even tighter, pressing me against him so I can feel how hard he is. And big. Very, very big. Every wind in the road, every rough bump has me grinding against him, reminding me of how damn good his fingers had felt. When I lick my lips, I taste my pussy on them, and hope like hell no one else can smell me. It seems painfully obvious to me, but it is directly under my nose. Here’s hoping the wall of muscle behind us can’t smell anything out of the ordinary.

Artyom’s forced to drive the last half mile at a painfully slow crawl because the latest storm pretty much cleared out the whole damn road. He mutters something in Russian that makes the guys behind us laugh, and when I finally spot Jinx’s log cabin up ahead, I let out a relieved sigh, more than ready to get some air and put some space between my ass and Mikhail’s giant cock.

As soon as the truck stops, I reach for the door handle, but Mikhail covers my hand with his own, pulling it away so he can open it himself. God, he’s such a control freak. Instead of just letting me slide off his lap to get out, he keeps his arm wrapped tightly around me, stepping out himself while holding me against him. Once he’s standing, he slowly lowers me so that I feel his cock sliding over my ass the whole damn way.

Knowing I need to get away, I take a step forward, but he grabs my upper arm and holds me in place. He barks out an order, making the truck doors open as both vehicles empty out, and I soon found myself surrounded by a team of very armed men. Half of them fan out and start forming a perimeter around the cabin. Their eyes taking everything in as their black boots make quick work of the wooded terrain.

“You don’t need to do this,” I say, trying to break the death grip he has on my arm. He just squeezes tighter and ignores me.

“Charlie?”

I freeze at the sound of Jinx’s voice. Looking up, I see him ambling over, one hand clutching the wooden staff he’s been using as a cane for as long as I’ve known him, and the other shielding his eyes from the sun that’s now fully come out and is blaring down on us. When he sees me, he lets out a relieved smile, but then his eyes go to my arm and the way Mikhail is still tightly gripping me.

“I’m so sorry, Jinx,” I tell him.

“I’d like to talk with you,” Mikhail says from behind me. “Is there anyone else here? Anything my men need to be worried about on your property?”

“No, and I’m guessing they’ll be able to spot the few traps I have set up,” Jinx says, leveling Mikhail with a hard stare. “But I’m not saying anything until you let Charlie go.” He turns his eyes to me. “Have they hurt you?”

“No,” I say, “I’m fine.” I don’t add that my pride is most definitely bruised. I know that’s the least of my worries. Mikhail could’ve done far worse to me than press me up against a wall and make me come.

“I’m afraid I can’t let her go just yet,” Mikhail says, walking towards the front porch and taking me with him. “But your cooperation will go a long way in keeping her safe.”

When we’re closer, I see the worry on Jinx’s wrinkled face, and a fresh stab of guilt hits me. The man has been nothing but nice to me, especially after my dad died five years ago, and now I’ve just brought the Bratva down on him. His bright, Hawaiian shirt seems comically out of place with all the black everyone else is wearing, and when he steps closer, I can’t help but smile when his orange Chuck Taylor’s come into view. The man’s not changed a bit since I first met him after we moved here when I was sixteen.

“This is the house you broke into?” Jinx asks, nodding his head at Mikhail, but keeping his eyes on me.

“Yeah.”

“I knew something was off. You’ve never been late checking in, and you’re much too good to make mistakes like the ones you mentioned.”

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