Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva), Nicole Fox [ebook reader 7 inch txt] 📗

I pick up my mug and gulp down lukewarm coffee as I watch the rings die down. Yuck. No amount of sugar makes this crap taste any better. The bitterness is too reminiscent of my own life. Grabbing my pen, I open the first test and start grading.

Time passes, one page at a time. How the hell do teachers do this every day? After the twentieth test, I’m convinced the students in Accounting 101 are all stupid. None of them have passed so far. It’s just one wrong answer after another. I glare over at the rest of the thirty tests I still have to mark. Ugh. Why the hell did they ever get rid of scantron tests? It would be so much easier to run this through a machine.

“Hey there, girlfriend.” Jenna strolls in, dropping her purse on the table and nearly knocking over my stake of already graded exams. “Uh-oh. I know that face. What’s eating you today?”

“Got stuck grading again.”

“You sure that’s the only reason?” Jenna raises an eyebrow as she stares at me.

My roommates have been all over my case, asking questions about the guy I “left the club” with, wondering why he hasn’t called. I try to deflect and demure—anything to change the subject. But if Jenna and Wendy are anything, they’re persistent. It’s the same conversation over and over again: a weekend getaway in the mountains with a handsome mystery man? How can you NOT be dying for a call back? Every time they bring it up, I just smile and look away, hoping they’ll get the hint soon and let it go. Fat chance of that, though.

“Annie, talk to me.”

I open my mouth to say something, then close it again. What is there even to say? No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about him. Most days I wonder if he’s alive. I scan the internet, the newspapers, and even the local news broadcast. I’m pretending that it’s a newly sparked interest in the comings and goings of the city where I’ve lived my whole life, but I’m not kidding anybody. I know I’m looking for him, to see if his name pops up. It never does, though. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead, in the city or gone for good. He’s a ghost.

Until the moment I go to sleep. Then, he haunts my dreams.

But not in the dangerous way. Not in the threat-to-my-life way. No, it’s worse. They’re sex dreams. And every time I wake up my body craves him. Some days I even find it hard to eat I miss his touch so much.

“I’m just tired, Jen. Accounting is putting me to sleep these days, that’s all. I’d better take a nap before I ruin some kid’s future on accident.” I force a lopsided grin and hope that it doesn’t look as fake as it feels.

She reaches out and pats my hand with an all-knowing smile on her face. She’s sweet, and her heart is in the right place. It always has been, since the day we met, two giggly, nervous girls at freshman orientation. We clicked right away, and then Wendy came along a few weeks into our first semester at school, and it was like we’d known each other all our lives. Jenna is as kind as they come.

But she doesn’t know what I’m wrestling with. The thoughts by day, the dreams by night, the memories all the time. It’s not her fault—I’m the one who is keeping secrets, after all, and I know without a doubt in the world that she would be the first one to listen and give me a shoulder to cry on, if I asked.

I just can’t let myself do that. I don’t know why, but every time I try to tell Jenna or Wendy about what happened to me—what really happened to me—it’s like my lungs stop working and my throat closes up.

“All right, yeah, you deserve it, girl. Go lie down. I’ll be quiet out here; you won’t hear a peep.” She smiles again and searches my face. I wonder if she knows I’m hiding something or if she’s just being kind. Either way, a nap sounds really good right about now, before I face-plant on this towering stack of exams.

I sigh and stand, cracking my neck in each direction, before tossing my pen on the table and shuffling back to my bedroom.

I’m half asleep by the time I reach the door. And when I hit the pillow, I’m out like a light.

***

Nikita appears. He’s not wearing a shirt. The ripple of his muscles through his chest and shoulders looks like wires held in tension. He’s angry that I didn’t answer my phone earlier. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked. “A job? Security? A normal life? You should have answered that call, kitten.” He pulls off his belt as he tells me what a bad girl I’ve been.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip.

I slide my hand under the waistband of my shorts, and down across my panty-covered sex. My fingers do a slow and steady dance along the folds of my labia, gently rubbing toward my clit and when my fingers make contact, I close my eyes and let out a huge sigh. My hand keeps stroking my pussy through my panties, while my left hand slides below my shirt to caress my breasts. I alternate from one nipple to the other, pinching each one and twirling it between my fingers as the hand on my sex picks up its pace. I’m hot and wet, each image of Nikita pushing me closer to the edge.

I rub faster circles over my clit, causing my knees to come together. Two fingers bury inside me and I begin driving them faster into my sex. My back arches and my legs shake as my sex tenses around my fingers. My body begins to jerk in spasms as my orgasm washes over me