Page 17 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

God, even passed out she’s a pain in the ass. When my panic subsides and I take in the fact that I’m holding her naked, wet body, I groan for a completely different reason and grab some towels before carrying her to the bed. Running one towel over her shoulder-length, dark hair, I dry her as best I can and then lay her on the bed, trying my damnedest to keep my eyes off her perfect tits or the shaved pussy that’s making my mouth water.

Walking back to the bathroom, I grab the pajamas I gave her earlier, knowing the faster she gets dressed, the better. There’s nothing to be done about the panty situation, so I pull the plaid bottoms on her and then do the same with the T-shirt. The clothes swamp her small body, but at least she’s covered from head to well past her feet since the pants are humongous on her and hang down at least a foot. Bending down, I roll them up, revealing her feet, and before I’ve even made the conscious decision to do so, I lean closer and kiss the top of her foot.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” I whisper against her skin.

Standing up, I go and get the needle before I can talk myself out of it. When I come back, she’s in the exact positon I left her in, sprawled out and deep in sleep. I carefully roll her over and get the needle ready before pulling her pants down enough to reveal the top half of one perfectly rounded ass cheek.

“You’re really going to hate me for this,” I mutter before wiping her smooth skin with an alcohol wipe and then sticking her with the needle. The microchip tracker goes in easily, and she should only have some mild soreness tomorrow from it. All my men are chipped, and for reasons that I don’t want to think about or delve into, I want her to be, too. I want to be able to know where she is at any given time. The thought of not knowing it bothers me.

Pulling her pants back up, I get rid of the needle and then walk back over to the bed. I’ve been up for over twenty-four hours at this point, and I’m exhausted. I pull off my wet shirt and jeans, leaving me in only a pair of black boxer briefs as I pull back the blankets and climb into bed with her. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her against me, burying my face in her still damp hair, breathing in the scent of her.

It’s just so I can keep a closer eye on her, I tell myself, and to make sure she wakes up okay after all the sedative I gave her. I almost even believe it. With her soft, feminine body pressed against mine, I close my eyes and fall into the kind of deep sleep that’s eluded me for years.

When I wake, the room is dark, and I’m completely disoriented. There’s a warm body pressed against mine, and her ass is nestled against my very hard cock. I pull her closer, burying my face in the side of her neck as everything comes rushing back to me. She’s still in a deep sleep, but she’s coherent enough now to hug my forearm against her chest and give a soft moan when I can’t resist giving the crook of her neck a soft kiss. I watch her sleep for several minutes, memorizing every detail of her peaceful face and the delicate lines of her jaw and neck. When I start to notice how damn cute her small ears are, I know it’s time for me to get the fuck up. I can’t let this go any further.

Being careful to not wake her, I slip out from the bed and tug my now dry jeans and shirt back on. It doesn’t escape my notice that I feel rested for the first time in God knows how long. I haven’t slept that good in years. The annoying, dull headache that’s been my constant companion is noticeably absent, and I feel good. Damn good, actually. A quick glance at my watch lets me know it’s a little after four in the morning. Holy fuck! I slept for over twelve hours. I grab my phone and give Charlie one last look before closing the door and going to my office.

Artyom texted me multiple times and then tried to call until finally I see his last message.

Came to check on you since you never ignore my messages. Did you realize you’d left Charlie’s door open? I’m guessing not. You two looked so peaceful. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.

I groan, easily hearing the teasing, amused tone of his voice. I push it from my mind and go back to reread his earlier messages. Nothing new about the mayor. That fucker is really starting to piss me off. When Jinx had agreed to work for me, I’d given him the mayor as his only assignment, for now anyway. The hackers that are already on my payroll swore that my security system was hacker proof, but he’d managed to disable it, so he’s the one I want working for me. He hadn’t been difficult to convince. All I’d had to do was offer him a ton of money and give him my word that Charlie wouldn’t come to any harm.

I should let her go. She has dirt on me, but I have dirt on her as well, and my gut tells me she wouldn’t go to the cops. I’m starting to feel things for her, and that needs to end. Heading downstairs to find something to eat, I send a quick text to Sabrine, asking her to send someone to me. I think about requesting a brunette, but think better of it. No, I want a tall blonde. I don’t want her to make me think of Charlie at all. I’m doing this to rid her from my mind. This is what’s best for the both of us.

She lets me know that her girl will be here in an hour, and while I wait, I text Artyom to tell him I’m awake and then heat up the ravioli Valentina left for me. I usually enjoy her cooking, but this time I shovel it down without tasting any of it before running upstairs to take a quick shower. I’m debating whether or not I should check on Charlie when I hear the doorbell ring. Not even the slightest bit enthusiastic about this, I head down the stairs and open the door. The beautiful blonde standing on my doorstep is exactly what I’d asked for. She’s tall, thin, with long, blonde hair that’s been pushed aside so there’s nothing obscuring the view of her full tits. She’s spilling out of the tiny, red dress that fits her like a glove, accentuating every line of her model-worthy body.

“Hey, handsome,” she says in a husky voice that I’m sure has earned her a lot of returning clients over the years. “I’m Chantal.”

I step aside and wave her in, wondering why the hell my cock isn’t rock hard at the sight of her. “Follow me,” I say over my shoulder, leading the way instead of taking the opportunity to watch her ass as she climbs the stairs. I walk into my bedroom, and she follows, shutting the door behind her.

When I turn to her, she gives me a sexy smile and walks over to me. She runs her fingers over my chest. I watch her dark red nails, the same shade as her lipstick and dress, and know with absolute certainty that I’m not going to be able to do this, and man does it piss me the fuck off.

I step back, ignoring the pouty look she gives me. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”

She steps closer, and I’m guessing it’s the first time in her entire life that a man has ever said no to her. “I can make you feel good, baby. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I just can’t,” I say, grabbing her wrist and pushing her off me when she starts to get handsy again.

Her blue eyes narrow at me. “I’ve got a pussy like an 18-year-old virgin and no gag reflex. You sure you don’t want to rethink this?”

The fact that my cock can’t even muster up a slight twitch at what she just said lets me know exactly how much trouble I’m in.

“It’s not going to happen, Chantal. Give me a second and I’ll get you something for your trouble.”

She seems slightly appeased that she’ll be getting a fat tip. She waits for me while I go to my office. I’m all set to forget this ever happened, but as soon as I walk in and see Artyom sitting in one of the leather chairs waiting for me, I let out a groan and scrub my hand over my face. He laughs and stands up to greet me with a slap on the back.

“Everything okay?”

I reach into my desk and grab several crisp hundred-dollar bills and then hand them to Artyom.

“I never want to speak of this again, but there’s a blonde in my room if you want her. She’s already been paid for. That’s her tip.”

Artyom knows my preference for escorts and my reasons for why I insist on using them. It’s mainly so I don’t end up with issues like wanting to cuddle with the dark-haired beauty down the hall instead of just mindlessly fucking a piece of ass so I can relieve some sexual frustration and be done with it.

The smile and amusement in Artyom’s eyes tells me I’m going to regret this conversation, but she’s already been paid for, and as long as she’s up for it, why the hell not? At least someone will be having a good morning. Knowing there’s pussy waiting for him, he doesn’t take the time to tease me about not wanting to fuck her. He just takes the tip money and leaves my office with a big smile on his face.

“Not on my bed!” I yell after him in Russian. “And make it quick!”

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