Russian Roulette (Russkaya Mafiya) (16 page)

The inside of their house is really nice. There is no way they decorated this place by themselves. It actually looks like a home you see in a magazine and not a bachelor pad. The couches are extra big, with really fluffy pillows and throws that all coordinate together laid on the back of each couch. The living room’s large enough that they have three couches and two big recliners. The walls are this cool white color with a hint of blue in it and the floors through the whole house are a rich, dark brown wood. The kitchen is a cook’s playground. Beautiful granite counters spread throughout and stainless steel appliances compliment the colors.

I gaze around at the brown wood cabinets, the cool tiled floor and can’t help but imagine cooking in here. The bedrooms are spacious with huge walk in closets. I don’t have enough clothes to even fill up half of one of their closets. The bathroom in Tate’s room has big, plush towels and a beautiful claw foot tub. I really hope I get to try it out. Out of the entire house, the kitchen is my absolute favorite.

“What are you doing, baby?” Tate asks when he walks into the kitchen. He stands beside me and pulls me into his arms.

Tate looks so handsome right now. He’s relaxed, being home and now changed into comfy clothes. He has on a pair of thin, grey sweatpants and a white, fitted tank top. His shoulders look like they bulge out of the shirt and his colored arms stand out beautifully. He looks hot and buff and I really just want to jump him right now.

“Not much, just daydreaming about cooking in this beautiful kitchen.” I grin and lift up on my tippy toes, to press a chaste kiss to his sexy, stubble-covered chin.

I wrap my arms around his firm waist and rest my hands right above his plump ass. His butt looks like it’s perfect to bite, just firm enough to bounce a quarter off of.

“Ahh, you like to cook?” I nod, kissing his chin again.

“Well then, Krasaaveetsa, you must cook in it while you are here. I would love to have you cook for me, it would be an honor.”

“Okay, I would love to.”

“Now, let’s go outside so I can start the grill. You can check out the pool and meet Muffin. I’m sure he’s tired of waiting patiently outside, even if the weather’s been really nice. He’s probably eager to come in and check everyone out.” Tate tugs on my hand and starts walking toward the back door.

“Oh, my gawd! You have a pool too? Geez, Tate, you are going to turn me into a spoiled brat!” I get so excited, I start to giggle. I love swimming in pools, rather than dirty old lake water.

“Good, Emily, you deserve to be spoiled and I plan to make you very happy.”

I swoon; I swear this man is perfect.

We make our way outside and I love it. Tate has numerous garden beds that line the whole yard around the fence. The back porch patio is covered and is adorned with the same stone that’s on the house.

Tate has one of those outdoor, covered, man kitchens that have a TV hanging in eyesight, a built-in, stainless grill, and mini fridge combo, with the bar completely covered in stone.

There’s a big glass table on the patio that seats eight; off to the side are a few outdoor couches and chairs with fluffy, bright teal cushions. The pool is a large square, with sparkling dark sapphire colored water. It has a built in waterfall, Jacuzzi, slide, fake rocks and plants all on the side. Around the pool are a few small tables with chairs and about ten lawn chairs you can lie on. It’s absolutely perfect. Tate lives in my dream home and I actually get to stay here for a few nights.

I make my way over to Tate and suddenly this huge dog comes running at us. He looks like he probably comes up to my waist.

“Holy shit, Tate! I thought you had a little dog named Muffin, not a huge Cujo!” Okay, I admit I am scared of the dog. He’s huge and full of energy. Tate chuckles at my remark and at my alarmed expression.

“This is Muffin. He’s a full size Doberman Pinscher. You don’t have to be scared or intimidated. Did you know Dobermans are the only dogs that were bred specifically for safety? His sole purpose in his breeding is to protect his master and his master’s family. They are also one of the top three smartest dogs. He’s not a Cujo. He will see how much I care about you and he will love you. Come here, baby, and meet him.”

I approach them both leisurely, with my hand out. I was taught by Granddaddy that it’s best to approach bigger dogs slowly, showing them respect and consistency. When I get close, Tate pulls me against his body while Muffin sits still, watching how I treat Tate.

“Muffin, come here boy, be easy, this is Emily.” Tate kisses my cheek a few times after he says this. It must work because Muffin watches his master then proceeds to smell my hand. I must pass a test because he comes and leans his body against my legs and lets me pet him.

Muffin is very large, with black and tan fur, his ears and tail are cropped and has on a neon orange collar that looks like it has something reflective on the stitching. His fur is really soft and he seems happy. He lets his tongue hang out and his little stub of a tail wags like crazy.

I coo as I scratch behind one of his ears, “Hi, Muffin, that’s a good boy, it’s nice to meet you.” I look up to see Tate watching me with a bemused expression. “Hey, Tate, his collar’s really cool, what’s on the stitching? Is that a reflective?”

“Yes, Muffin usually goes on runs with me in the morning, so he has a reflective collar in case it’s still dark out. I don’t ever go alone and the guys like to sleep, so he’s my road dog. He loves going to the lake and in the boat also. It drives my mother crazy, all the wet fur, so I usually do it on purpose.”

I laugh at him; leave it to Tate to antagonize his poor mom with the dog. Muffin doesn’t seem so bad; in fact, the opposite. He’s really friendly and paws at me every time I quit petting him.

“That’s really cool, Tate. He’s a sweet boy, and I can tell you love him a lot. Would you mind if I run with you in the mornings? I usually use the treadmill in the community center at my apartment. It’s so peaceful here, Tate, everything. I love it and I’m excited to stay here for a few days, thank you.”

“Yeah, you can definitely go with me. Muffin has to come too, though. Also, you are very welcome; I’m excited you are here.” He kisses me long and deep, it makes me melt into his firm body.

While we kiss, Muffin wiggles in between us and just stands there. I pull away from Tate and glance at the dog, he’s just happy as can be. What started as an awful, stressful day has turned out to be wonderful.

Later that evening, we grill a small feast, including steaks, chicken breasts, baby potatoes, corn and pineapple slices. We all sit outside on the patio, sipping sweet tea mixed with vodka and enjoy the beautiful Tennessee night. The season’s changing, so evenings and mornings are perfect times to enjoy being outside right now.

We all talk and make plans to have crab legs for dinner tomorrow as a group again. I can’t wait; I am so excited to cook with Tate. Surprisingly, Muffin lies on the outdoor couch and doesn’t beg from anyone during dinner. I remember the Golden Retriever Granddaddy had. She was named Goldie and when I was little, she always begged for anything she could get.

London, Avery and I clean up afterwards and make our way into the living room to watch a movie. Muffin snuggles up to me so he’s on one side and Tate’s on the other. Not only is Tate stealing my heart but so is this giant, sweet Dobie. I’m so glad we have a four-day weekend. I can’t imagine a better way to spend it, than with people I care the most about.

I’m roused out of my sleep by Tate picking me up and carrying me bridal style to his bedroom, “Shhh, Krasaaveetsa, you fell asleep during the movie. I’m taking you to bed, so go back to sleep, baby.”

I lean my head against Tate’s chest and relish in the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me. He carefully sets me down on the edge of the bed, and then strips to his tight, black Abercrombie boxer briefs. Tate pulls my shorts and shirt off. At this point I’m game for whatever he wants to do. He surprises me by replacing the shirt I had on with the tank top he just took off. It’s still warm from him and surrounds me in his delicious scent.

He turns the fluffy comforter back and adjusts the pillows for us, pushing them close together in the middle of the ginormous bed.

He rasps, rubbing his rippled abdomen, “There, baby, crawl under the blanket, to the middle of the bed.” I comply, doing what he says. I’m too tired to ask him why.

Tate slides in behind me and tucks the covers all around us, to keep the chill from the air conditioner away. They keep their house really cold, so I snuggle back into him. He puts one arm under my pillow and the other, he wraps around my stomach, holding me tightly.

We lace our fingers together and poof, I fall asleep almost instantly. He’s warm, soft and makes me feel safe. I know at this point my heart is gone…

TEN

Tate

One week later

I scowl into the phone, “What do you mean, you haven’t found him yet? I don’t care if he’s fucking disappeared into thin air, I want him found! Do I have to get all of the Russkaya Odessa Mafiya involved to find one fucking person? Do not make me tell Gizya you have failed at this simple task.” I hang up on the idiot who’s been searching for Jeremy, Emily’s ex.

I don’t understand how they haven’t found him yet. A week should be plenty of time to have already brought him to me. Hopefully, dropping my father’s name will motivate the tracker to find the scummy fucker and if not I will call my brother, Viktor, to deal with the incompetent fuck.

My father is Konstantin ‘Gizya’ Ginzburg. Otherwise known as Balshoy Shef, or The Big Boss to Americans. He is in charge of the Odessa Mafiya which incorporates around five thousand members in America. I’m next in line to take the throne here and I’ve been avoiding it like the plague. It was really given to my older brother, but he wanted no part in it.

My uncle, Victor Averin, who my brother Viktor is named after, is second-in-command for the Solntsevskaya Bratva. My grandfather was the great ‘Vory Vzakone’; real name, Vyacheslav Ivankov. He was impervious for his Mafiya-ish, gruesome ways and illegal dealings for many years. So, it’s imperative I grow into a strong Shef, with all of my family heading up the Russkaya Mafiya and Bratva at some time.

Here, I’m Luka Tate Masterson to everyone. To my family however, I’m Luka Tatkiv ‘Knees’ Ginzburg. I enjoy breaking people’s knees when they piss me off, call it my fetish. My family found it suitable for that to be my Boss name.

My brother, Viktor, has made it his life’s mission to not be a Boss. My family finally accepted him when he became the family accountant and helps find disposal for any bodies we need dumped. My family hails from Mother Russia and The Odessa is mostly from around Moscow.

If we were in Russia right now, bodies would be dropping like flies. Here in America, it’s a little trickier to stay out of the law enforcements sights. I know my father wants me to be corrupt and sinister with my position, but it’s just not who I am. In this situation, however, I will have no problem dealing out torture and pain to this pathetic ant.

I was really hoping one of my men would find this sick fuck, but I may need to call a few of my uncle’s crazy Bratva goons to see if they have any luck.

I need my guys concentrating on keeping the Italians and Chinese out of my clubs. I will do business with them, but not at my clubs. Many innocent people could get killed if something went down there.

I have to keep Emily a secret also, just so no one attempts to hurt her, because of me. She’s my priority over everything—school, clubs, friends, family or even the Mafiya. Her safety and well-being is priority number one.

Taking a deep breath, I trudge back into the house, to check on my sweet Emily. She’s been here a week and I love every second of it. I have come to the decision that I never want her to leave. I have also decided that I have been patient long enough. For a man who has never had to wait to fuck a woman, I think I’ve done very well.

I find my Krasaaveetsa in her kitchen. I gave it to her. She thinks I’m joking when I tell her that, but I’m not. Hell, she can have the whole house if she wants it. I’ll even build her a bigger house if that’s what makes her happy. I know no amount of money or things will matter to her though and it only makes me care for her even more.

I feel like I live to see my Emily smile; it’s become sort of a goal for me every day. I try to see how many times I can put a bright light on her face; she deserves a piece of happiness after a life so sad. I don’t think she knows it, but she takes my breath away each time she smiles like that.

EMILY

I’m busy looking at my magazine on the counter, when Tate walks into the kitchen. He has black leather bar stools that have fast become one of my favorite seats in the house. I love how the breakfast bar is located in the middle of the kitchen, so I can watch him as he prepares and cooks different meals for us. I never knew a man in the kitchen could be so sexy, but when he cooks yummy food and is shirtless, well, it takes the cake.

I feel strong arms wrap firmly around me and I relish the feeling. I snuggle back into him, closing my eyes for a brief moment, resting my head on his shoulder. “Hey, handsome, you done with your business call?”

“I sure am, Krasaaveetsa,” he croons in my ear and starts to kiss on my neck.
God that feels amazing.
I learned at my apartment that Tate is very, very talented with that mouth.

I turn in my seat so I’m facing him. I want to kiss on him, too.

“Want to play, Krasaaveetsa?”

“Depends on what exactly that means, Tate.” I lick up the side of his neck and he shivers, making a rumbling sound in his throat and it’s so sexy.

“It means I get to feel that sweet cunt, wrapped tightly around my cock, little pet. I want to make you feel good again.” I pull him between my legs and kiss him full on the mouth. He returns my kiss, fervently. I match his tongue with mine, softly caressing.

If he is any good at reading me, he will know this is not just a yes, but a hell yes. I am so ready for him. It’s been sweet torture sleeping next to him every night this past week, feeling his hard body holding me tightly. I wrap my legs around his body and lightly drag my nails down his back.