Expose' (Born Bratva Book 3) (8 page)

Kodiak

Though I make no attempt to hide from Logan the fact that my cock is visibly hard, I certainly don’t need to flaunt it at a family function. I decide to take a piss in the hopes that things down south will be under control by the time we enter the ballroom. I don’t need my parents glaring at my dick.

As we take the steps together, I turn to Logan and say one last thing, “My dad’s cousin and his wife are coming in tonight, so this is a celebration in their honor. We also celebrate my new role at the gambling house. Try to enjoy yourself.” She bites her lip nervously and seems to view the crowd below with some trepidation, so I place my hand on her lower back and add, “Logan, you’re with me. These people are Bratva. They are good people—as long as you don’t cross them. And, after all, I’ll be watching your every move.”

The way she looks up at me with those big innocent eyes of hers and nods her head makes me want to drag her back to my bedroom by her hair. Fuck this party, all I want to do is finish what we started earlier and pound her senseless. Instead, I take a deep breath and do my best to tame the beast that’s now pressing against my zipper as I lead her down the grand staircase.

I swear this woman gives me blue balls without even trying. She can turn me on fully dressed faster and harder than any woman in this room could even if they weren’t wearing a stitch of clothes. I’ve spent my life fucking as a way to meet my physical needs, nothing more than a release. When other people are off doing yoga, my dick’s pounding away at some broad whose name I’ve already forgotten. They’re no more to me than a way to get off. Even though I’ve been straight up with them, they still go along with it.

I already know I won’t be fucking anybody else now that Logan’s in the picture. For the first time in my life, I can’t take a chance on hurting someone. Hell, I can’t take a chance on hurting
her
and losing
her
. Fucking around would send the message that I’m a player and, based on what Lukyan uncovered in the background check, she’d probably do what she always does when she’s hurt or scared—run.

The party’s already in full swing with a busy dance floor and people in corners conversing. I note my father isn’t here yet. It’s his normal practice to be fashionably late. Like everything he does, it serves a purpose. As Pakhan, his arrival is always anticipated and my father knows how to use it to his benefit. The man is a genius when it comes to psychological warfare. I learned from the best.

Normally I would work the room but tonight I’m focused on Logan and, by necessity, her little hacker friend. According to Lukyan, Gilbert was seated at a table with strict instructions not to move. I place my hand on her lower back as I escort Logan to the darkened corner where Gilbert is alone at the table, his back pressed against the seat like he’s trying to blend in with the wallpaper. Looks like we arrived just in time, the poor guy doesn’t need to be left alone with my family—they’ll eat him alive as the evening’s entertainment. I have to admit a sadistic streak runs deep and wide in our family when it comes to outsiders. It’s the nature of the beast. He perks up as soon as he sees Logan, and his eyes widen when she’s close enough for him to see the whole package.

“Wow, Logan. Look at you, you’re beautiful. I’m so glad to see you,” he says, practically hyperventilating, and Logan looks over at me, obviously thinking her friend has been, at the very least, tortured. “I was basically dropped off and put in a room with a woman I don’t know—that horrible beautician woman,” Gilbert says dramatically. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through! She – she – that woman
waxed
me!” he hisses in horror, pointing to the slightly pink skin between his eyebrows. “Then they found this table for me and I’ve been here ever since.” The poor guy’s already scared and he hasn’t even seen how crazy shit can get—yet.

“Yes,” Logan murmurs soothingly, “but look at the make-over you got. You look so handsome, Gilbert.”

“That’s enough,” I growl in her ear. Though I speak in a tone low enough for Gilbert not to hear what I’m saying, my tone is serious. Fuck if I want to hear her tell another man how good he looks, even if it is Gilbert. I do have to admit, though, he looks like a different guy. His dark blonde hair has been styled with a little hair product in a way that actually makes him look decent -- or a hacker geek, anyway. With the suit he’s wearing and the fact that he’s not wearing glasses, our little geek boy might just get some action tonight. Hey, now, that’s a thought -- he needs something to keep him occupied and God knows the boy needs to relax. I look around the room to see if I can find a reliable, quality blowjob for our boy when I see one of the waiters headed in our direction. I grab a glass of champagne and hand it to Logan and I take a shot of vodka from the tray, tossing it back.

The room is suddenly hushed. I look toward the staircase and see my father descending the stairs with my mother on his arm, and I swear his eyes are locked on to me. Another glass of champagne seems like a good idea so I grab one more. Logan isn’t the only who needs to take the edge off. She leans in to whisper in my ear, “I want one.” I smirk as I grab another glass and tell the waiter to give Gilbert a shot and some Dom Perignon.

I can’t fucking resist, so I lean in, whispering low so no one but Logan can hear me. “You better watch it. I’ll get your ass drunk, take you back up to my room, and fuck you until you don’t know your own name.”

“I can’t believe you just said that to me.” The blush on her face tells me she isn’t used to a man who is open about what he wants. I’ve got no problem letting her know how this is going to go. As far as I’m concerned, she’s already mine. I’ve never met a woman like her and I’ll be damned if I’m letting her go. If my father’s mandate to keep an eye on her is what I have to use until I convince her I’m for real…so be it. I’m tired of Bratva groupies with their fake smiles, their bleached, hard hair and their fake, hard tits. I want something real. I want what my mother and father have. And I want it with this girl.

There’s only one problem. I know Logan’s up to something, I can practically smell it on her. But I also know she’s conflicted about it, which means that deep down she’s my good girl. So I’m going to do what I always do, find out what the problem is and meet it head on. I need to find out what she’s hiding before my father does. I have to protect this one of a kind jewel I’ve found.

“What you see is what you get with me, babe. My intentions may be less than admirable, but they’re honest. I want you naked and in my bed.” She blushes again and tries change the subject.

“Oh, look, is that the Governor?”

“Mr. Anthony Johnson himself. Do you want to meet him?”

“Noooo, I do want the scuttlebutt though. Was his wife really a prostitute?”

“On the record, no; off the record, yes, indeed.” I give her no time to ask questions as I continue, “Always the curious little investigative reporter. You should be very careful,
kotyonok
-- you’re in my world now, kitten. You would do well to remember what I told you -- what we talk about is between us.”

The skin on the back of my neck tingles and I look up to see my father, head and shoulders above the crowd that has gathered around him. My heartbeat quickens. I can only imagine how terrified his adversaries are of him. I’ve seen grown men beg for mercy from my father—he’s not a merciful man. I’ve never had to be concerned about his lack of mercy—until now—until Logan.
Fuck, my father is in the house in all his glory and headed in my direction.

He approaches me and raises a sardonic brow, giving a slight nod in my direction to indicate he wants to speak to me privately. I follow him around the darkened corner, away from curious eyes. I know I’m walking a very thin line. Usually life as Bratva is simple, it’s just a matter of doing the job right. This time I’m emotionally involved and it isn’t just about Logan, either. I have a strong bond with my father and I will not see him betrayed.

He wastes no time starting in on me, “And just when were you planning on telling me about this Gilbert person?”
Shit! I wonder if he’s been talking to the professor.

“You know I don’t bother you with trivial details or with guesswork. I wanted to do a little more research on him before bringing it up. And you had a lot on your mind that day, you seemed pretty pissed already.”

“You haven’t seen pissed. If that fucking reporter...” he pauses to exhale harshly. “You, Kodiak, of all people, know I don’t like repeating myself. I’ve made it very clear what’s going to happen if she gets out of line. You know this.” His cold blue eyes bore into me as he seethes, “Get this shit straight, boy. I’d hate to have to kill the only woman who’s ever had you this intrigued.”

“I got this, Dad,” I say quietly.

“Good. That’s very good to hear, son.” My father is being facetious and I know it. “I’ve also
got this
, as you say
.
Now, Yafon tells me this boy’s name is Dorkoff, correct? Hmmm. Interesting. Perhaps Russian blood flows in his veins. If so, that may be his saving grace.”

“Dad…” I start, only to be cut off by my father’s curt command.

“Enough! At my personal request, Dominika will be guarding the little hacker boy you failed to tell me about.”

Shit.
Dominika is a Bratva bodyguard in Glazov’s inner circle of protection. She will rip the kid’s head off and spit down his windpipe if he gets out of line. This should be interesting. This shit just keeps on escalating.

“Dad, that woman is going to scare the hell out of him. Seriously, why are you giving the cat a new mouse to torment? He’s going to shit himself. And he’s wearing Armani.”

“Dominika will ensure he understands that it is in his best interests to keep his mouth shut.” My father laughs but it is the feral laugh of Glazov the Pakhan. He pats me on the shoulder, “Do not worry, my son… Perhaps he will become, what’s the American word,
smitten
with her.” His face becomes impassive when he says, “Just as you are smitten with your little prisoner.”

I really can’t do anything but nod my head. As difficult as it has been, this conversation has gone smoother than I anticipated. His arctic gaze meets mine. “Now be respectable and go introduce your
date
to Novak.”

He kisses both of my cheeks and walks away, easily commanding the room with the authoritative, confident energy he exudes. My father was born with the ability to strike fear in the hearts of mortal beings. All eyes follow the Pakhan as they speculate about what my father and I were discussing in that darkened corner. I’ve spent my life living under the Bratva spotlight and I learned at a very early age to wear an impassive mask. Hell, the only person I’ve ever been tempted to let my guard down with is Logan. I have no idea why I feel so drawn to, as my father calls her,
a card counting investigative journalist.

My mother has always said that the Glazov men do not mate often or easily, but that when they do, they mate for life – and that there is no stopping the pursuit once it has begun. I’ve always found her theory amusing but I grew up overhearing the whispers about how my mother bewitched the great Glazov with her auburn hair and feminine wiles – and how she fought against his relentless pursuit in his campaign to own her – willingly or not.

All I know is that the path I’m on with Logan is dangerous for both of us. There’s not only the matter of not being sure I can trust her, there’s also the fact that I’m putting her life in danger by pursuing her. If she takes a fall, I will be going down with her…because I will mate for life. It’s the Bratva way.