His cock felt like heaven on earth rubbing against her clit as he thrust in and out of her relentlessly; a combination of two frictions that resulted in immense pleasure. She spread her legs wider and lifted her hips; offering herself up with no inhibitions.
“Oh, you’re going to come for me, Ptichka and I’m going to watch every detail of your expression.”
The words went through her mind like a veiled threat, I’m always watching, Ptichka, always watching. It was true. It was like he could see her whether he was around or not. The man possessed an uncanny ability to read her thoughts, as well as her body language; a human lie detector. He was every woman’s dream and every woman’s nightmare; an oxymoron she never wanted to escape.
Her body clamped, going rigid as an orgasm raged through every inch of her body. She could feel it all the way down to her toes; like the electricity would cause her body to combust into a million pieces. His cock throbbed like an angry release of volcanic ash as he spilled his strength into her. Her fingers stroked lightly over the side of his ribcage. She waited for him to regain some semblance of coming out of the haze that always went hand in hand with pleasure. He rolled over and pulled her body next to his with a strong arm. She felt safe when he held her close to him; like nothing in the outside world could penetrate the world they lived in. There was always nagging in the back of her mind; a feeling of impending danger, but when she was in his arms all the doubt floated away like a vapor. She wished she could live in this place of ultimate safety for her family. Born Bratva and bloodshed were brothers birthed in the womb of the Russian motherland. She felt safe in his arms because Glazov was the only person who kept her safe. His ability to read people and situations had kept not only his family alive but all the workers in the organization.
Glazov. I need to know where you’re going. I need to know you’ll be safe. Are you taking Novak?”
“I’m taking Yafon.”
“So, it is dangerous.”
Glazov brushed a piece of hair out of her face and chuckled. “You’re saying that because I’m taking the assassin. Yafon insisted. You know how he is when he gets something in his head; there’s no shaking him.”
“His allegiance to you is admirable. Should I worry about this mysterious meeting?”
“Leonardo has been experiencing some problems with a street gang in his area; they’re trying to muscle him for monthly payments.”
“Junior extortionists.”
“Don’t underestimate. The street gangs own everything from shops to food carts; everybody pays and now they want my tailor.”
“Doesn’t he have a little boy?”
“Yes. It’s hard enough being a single parent. He doesn’t need this shit.”
“If they know he’s affiliated with you it’s also a slap in the face of Born Bratva.”
“Are you trying to get someone killed,” his ice-cold blue eyes glared through her like a laser. He didn’t take it as an attack on his ego; he took it as a Born Bratva wife standing up for the people she worked with and loved. She had formed tightly knit bonds with the people she was surrounded by and like a mother bear she would fight for them against outsiders.
“I guess I could have worded that differently. It’s just…” she shrugged her shoulders, “being affiliated with you carries a lot of weight in the streets. People usually leave the people you do business with alone. I’m baffled by this one, Glazov. Most gangs leave your employees alone; surely they can’t know Leonardo is your personal tailor.”
“They’re punks; trying to make a name for themselves. They see Leonardo as an old man, an easy target. They may be stupid enough to know who he is and still go after him because it will give them street cred.”
“How will you deal with it?”
“That remains to be seen, my love. Much of it will be determined on exactly what we’re discussing.” He kissed her cheek and got up to shower and dress. It was time to protect the man who had become a dear friend of the Pakhan.
Chapter Six
Leonardo smiled as he watched his five-year-old son Kodiak run around in circles. The older gentleman was seated at the custom-made cabinet that held the Bernina 880 plus sewing machine he worked at; both were gifts from the Pakhan. Glazov had insisted on outfitting the room that held hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of every tailor’s dream. There were various presser feet for every occasion. Every color of thread any bespoke suit called for were neatly displayed on pegs in the custom cabinet. Buttons, elastic, zippers, bobbin cases, and embroidery modules, hoops, and adapters were just a few of the things neatly arranged on tables and in cabinets. It was heaven on earth to any seamstress or tailor and Alexander Glazov had been the man responsible for ensuring Leonardo had it. Every Christmas, and Birthday Leonardo was gifted with something by the Pakhan. Sometimes Glazov would drop by with a gift ‘just because’. The tailor had learned long ago to graciously accept Glazov’s kindness toward him. To do otherwise would be disrespectful. Leonardo owed his life and career to the Pakhan and now as badly as he hated it, he was having to ask for another favor. He had been careful to not use his relationship with Glazov to further his lot in life. Most people would have used the Pakhan as a stepping stone, but Leonardo saw that as disrespect towards the man who had done so much for him. He knew Glazov wasn’t a man who bonded with outsiders and a sense of warmth and sentiment always accompanied the thoughts and memories of their friendship.
He sighed and let out a breath of resignation tinged with stress and a dash of fear. Being a single parent was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Asking the favor from the Pakhan was something he normally wouldn’t do but he had to protect his son Kodiak. He loved the boy more than life itself and he would never let his pride get in the way of that.
Leonardo turned his gaze from his son and back towards the work in front of him at the sewing cabinet. He’d done well for himself even before he had Glazov as a client. He’d always been a hard worker, but being a single parent was a motivator for anyone.
Glass crashing from downstairs caused Leonardo to jump in fear.
“Papa!” His son’s screams pierced his heart even more so than the sound of the glass window crashing in. The street gang had come for him before his petition for help from Glazov could do any good.
Chapter Seven
Glazov side-eyed Yafon’s stoic profile that was fixed on the road in front of him.
“We’re not here to kill anyone tonight, Yafon. We’re only here to gather evidence on the street gang so we can set up a proper scenario for revenge.”
Yafon chuckled. Glazov wondered if it would crack his face; it was an unusual reaction for the man who normally looked like his sober expression was carved in stone.
“A proper scenario for revenge, that’s funny, Glazov; considering how coldblooded you are.”
“A man should always plan; cool heads always prevail.”
“Since when did you become so cool-headed?”
Now it was Glazov chuckling, “I suppose Novak’s pep talk got to me.”
“I figured you’d get one from him. He’s right, though. It’s mandatory we protect you at all costs.”