Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance - Page 61

“He’s not my friend.”

Kazimir tilted his head to the side. “He’s a frenemy?”

I laughed.

Kaz grabbed the washcloth, filled it with pink liquid, and lathered my body. “Remember? Before coming to your art gallery in Harlem, I asked about you.”

“And people said that I was the queen of frenemies.” I leaned my head back and let the shower saturate my hair. “I’ve always found it to be the best way to fight someone. Make them your friend.”

“I don’t have many friends.”

I wiped water away from my face. “We should change that.”

“Mysh, my worse fear came to life. Someone took you from me.” Death blazed in his eyes. “Do you really think that I’ll now be a warm cuddly lion this year?”

I swallowed.

He slipped the soapy cloth along my body. “But. . .”

“But?”

“I’ve decided to wait for a few days.”

“With bombing priceless paintings and sculptures? I think that’s a good idea.”

He left a trail of soap along my stomach. “As long as Jean-Pierre stays quiet. The Louvre will be saved.”

“I think he will remain silent, but I’ve been wrong before.”

“If Jean-Pierre acts up?”

“Then bomb the shit out of him. I don’t want us to have to keep looking over our shoulders. But that would only be if Jean-Pierre was dumb enough to keep bothering you. If he does, then he’s not as smart as I thought.”

“And you think he’s smart?” Kaz asked.

“Smart and rising in power.”

Kaz groaned.

“What?”

“You saying that he’s smart, makes me want to kill him.”

I sighed. “Then, we should talk more about this in a few days.”

“After the doctor.”

I smiled. “Yes. After the doctor. Let the Parisians enjoy their week. And don’t you dare think about taking away the Louvre. I never got to see it.”

“That museum will be the least of their problems. If Jean-Pierre fucks with me, I’ll stop the imports and exports from coming into that country.”

I stirred.

He leaned away and studied me. “What’s wrong?”

“Your power scares me.”

“Power?” He frowned. “I question how much power I have these days.”

Shocked, I eyed him. “What? Of course you’re powerful.”

“They took you from my bed.”

“No matter how much power someone has, shit can still fucked up.”

“Not me.”

“Your Uncle Igor had power and—”

“That’s not a good situation to bring up.”

“You’re right, but. . .” I took the washcloth away from him, added more soap, and lathered those muscular shoulders. “I feel safe with you. I feel protected. And even more, I feel loved and more powerful than I’ve ever been.”

Kazimir looked at me. Fear lay within his eyes. I had never seen him look this way.

“I would’ve never done half the things I did, if it wasn’t for you,” I whispered. “I knew they were too scared to kill me. The Corsican was careful. They knew what would happen, if I was harmed. Jean-Pierre did his best to accommodate me, even though I tried to drown him in a toilet.”

A loud, dark chuckle came from him. When I thought it would be a few seconds of laughter, he doubled over a little.

“Kazimir?”

He held his gut. I could tell the laughing hurt him a little. He was definitely more hurt than he admitted. Still he laughed some more and asked, “The toilet?”

“Yes.”

“You stuffed Jean-Pierre’s head in the toilet?”

“Yes.”

He grinned with pride. “Mysh.”

“Jean-Pierre had plenty of time to kill me. All of them could’ve done so many fucked up things to me.”

The smile left.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have reminded him.

“Either way,” I said. “They are scared of you. Terrified. His cousins seemed pissed that he’d even kidnapped me. They hadn’t planned it.”

Kaz grumbled but said nothing.

Leaving it alone, I returned to washing him as he grabbed another cloth and continued to clean me. The frown returned. Quiet fell within the shower. Steam thickened the air. He wiped the cloth all over my body. Every touch of the cloth soothed me. Every moment I heard the gentle pull and push of his breath, I calmed even more. And every few seconds, he gave me an intense stare.

I washed his hair.

He washed mine too.

And then his fingers strayed to my nipple and the other hand pulled me against him.

I gasped and arched my back up.

He watched me as he toyed with the nipple, tenderly pinching and pulling it within the soapy warm water. “What would I be without you, mysh?”

“A lion.”

“No.” He lowered, lapping at the curve of my neck. “I would be nothing. There’s no lion without the mouse.”

Those sweet words drove me on edge, heightening my arousal. He lowered his hand and moved his attention to my pussy, dipping his finger in and out. And then he toyed with my clit, rubbing and stroking. Fuck. My breath caught in my throat. Hunger blazed through me. I swore I would catch on fire.

“Oh.” I brushed my fingers across my nipples.

A low groan escaped Kaz as he watched me touch my nipples. Lust replaced the worry in his eyes. He slipped his fingers through my wet folds. Those tips twisted among the bubbles and warm water. My body jerked with pleasure.

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