Vaughn is neither soft nor pliant. He’s all muscular with masculine traits and sharp edges I’ll totally cut myself on if I’m not careful enough. He’s definitelynotsubmissive and actually fights for dominance.
The memory of him flipping us so he’d be on top sends a throb down my spine and straight into my cock—the same cock that was dormant in Kevin’s presence seconds ago.
I grunt. “This fucking sucks. Go away.”
“Are you talking to your demon again?” Cy strolls into my changing room at the underground ring, throwing me his usual side-eye. The roar of the crowd dulls to a hum as the door slams shut.
I knock my bandaged fists together, then punch the air. “Nah, just talking to my alter ego, aka my dick.”
“So demon number one.” He sprawls out on the beat-up faux leather couch, crossing one leg over the other. “Demon number two, your fists, shouldn’t be used for the second night in a row to fight, Yulian.”
“Nonsense. The whole point of fists is to fight.”
“Your bruises from yesterday and the day before and the day beforethataren’t healed yet. What’s with fighting almost every day lately?”
I hit the air harder. “Tension.”
“Get laid, then.”
“Well, that’s the fucking issue, Cy. Ican’t.” I stop punching and swing around to face him. “You’re smart, help me get back into my world-record sex life.”
“Being smart doesn’t give me solutions to your fluctuating libido.” He focuses on his phone, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit.
Cy is tall and muscular, though leaner than me—his body’s built more like a swimmer’s, honed from years of swimming at dawn. Fighting isn’t his thing, but he’ll throw a punch when pushed, and he’s lethal with weapons. Still, he acts like violence is beneath him, convinced he can get whatever he wants without ever lifting a hand.
While I bulldoze through issues headfirst, he analyzes, contemplates, and then usually comes up with the appropriate solution. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s helped my dad in his strategic endeavors—and saved my ass in the process.
My father trusts Cy completely after he landed him a new shipping deal with the Davenports that kept us front and center of the Bratva branches, at the same level as the Morozovs.
Dad agreed to let me come to this island because Cy was also coming. He even allowed him to pick ourguards—whom Cy personally vouched for—and plan our security system.
Let’s say Daddy dearest wishes he had Cy for a son instead of me, having told me so himself after he nearly tortured me to death four years ago.
But that never made me despise Cy. He’s my best—andonly—friend. Sad, I know, but people usually don’t like me, whether it’s because of my last name or my personality. Cy, however, has stuck around.
He’s put himself out there and performed so many tasks for my father, so I don’t end up accidentally—or not so accidentally—getting shot dead by my extremely intolerant, impatient, and tyrannical sperm donor.
So really, Cy and Alya are all I have.
I remove my glove and snap my fingers in his face. “Focus, motherfucker. Give me a solution.”
He slowly lifts his head, then flicks my hand away with his thumb and index finger. “I’m not your magic lamp.”
“Nah, you’re way better. I get infinite wishes.” I grin, and he shakes his head, fighting a smile.
“You’re a clown.”
“Yourfavoriteclown. Now, chop-chop, Cy. What do you think I should do to get over this annoying slump?”
“Have more flavor? Though, for the sake of all that’s holy, be more discreet when frolicking with men. It’s true that I have all the guards in the mansion on our side, so they won’t tattle to your father, but I can’t say the same about the Serpent members. I have them by the throat with some damning info, but that can change at any time, and your blasé attitude doesn’t help.”
“I don’t go around fucking men in public.”
“You flirt, Yulian. Alot.”
“Yeah, but Irarelytouch the guys. Anyone looking in from the outside will think I have a lot of friends.”
“You don’t.”
