A cocktail in hand, good music all around, a handsome man at my waist and freedom at my fingertips...yes, this was exactly the kind of vacation that I loved.
Chapter Five
Nikolai
The last thing I’d wanted was for Katya to come with me.
I was already having to room with her, I didn’t need her tagging along like she was going to be my new wingman with tits. A chick couldn’t help me land a fast hot fuck, not the way a brother could. Alexander was the best kind of bait. Tall, dark, handsome, knew just what to say in his deep voice to hook a girl and then reel her in.
Alexander and I were regular Casanovas with legendary pickup lines and killer fucking moves in the bedroom. It didn’t hurt that we belonged to such an elite mafia circle either. The past decade had been one long cinematic feature of porn-worthy sexual antics, drinking ourselves blind, and spending money like our pockets produced it magically.
But now...now he was with Marisha and he’d dropped me as easily as a one-night stand.
Anger flared in me as I docked at the bar. A waitress would come to your boat if you waited; they’d take your order, serve you...sometimesserviceyou. A person didn’t even need to step onto the beach. But I wanted the feel and sound of other people. I wanted to dance and hunt my prey. I wanted to smell the tang of sweat and taste the salt of a girl who’d been out in the heat all day living her best damn life.
Fuck Alexander.
I didn’t need a wingman. What the hell, maybe I was better off on my own. Let Alexander have his happy ending, the same happy ending for goddamn ever.
I stepped off the boat and tied her down, then strolled down the short platform and onto the sand, still warm and radiating heat from daylight.
It took mere seconds before two sexy-as-hell girls with jet black braids and bikini tops came over to take my order. A dive bar’s logo was stitched across the little aprons they wore over their itsy-bitsy shorts.
“What can we get you?” They said, nearly in unison, and I smirked thinking of the twins from last time Alex and I had been here.
“You can get me something strong.” I leaned forward, placing my head between them, and spoke throatily. “And then you can dance with me.”
“Oh, we’re not supposed to dance while we’re working,” the girl on my right, the one with dark freckles across her nose, piped up. But the other girl smacked her gently on the shoulder.
“Hush, Allie. Mike’s gone for the night. Let’s drink. Let’s dance. And let’s…” her voice trailed off as her gaze looked me up and down. “Enjoy the view.”
Straightening back up, I reached forward and placed a hand on each of their waists. “I’m at your disposal, ladies. Do your worst.”
They giggled, and then each grabbed the hand that was touching them, and they pulled me towards the bar.
Three flaming sambucas and five body shots later, the world was a buzzing blur of color and I was dancing between the two women, who’d lost the aprons and the shorts and were now just gyrating in their black bikinis on either side of me. I held my liquor well, and apparently so did they. Which was good, because I could hear Alex reciting our rules in my head--if a girl can’t stand up and speak clearly, then she’s not fuckable. She’ll be sloppy, she won’t go down on you. Find someone else.
Maybe there was also the little matter of not taking advantage of drunk-blind pussy. But that wasn’t the point right now.
Once, I’d thought a girl wasn’t too drunk, and she’d gone down on my shaft, only to vomit all over my dick seconds later.
That was reallynotfucking hot.
I sank another shot and one of the girls took the glass from me, leaving my side for a moment. Glancing around me I took in the other people here. Women, men, men dressed as women…the scene brought back a flood of memories. It made me miss my friend, goddammit. A fresh wave of anger threatened to crest, but I fought it back. I wasn’t going to wallow, not over someone who couldn’t give a shit less about me.
It had barely been a few days, yet I could feel that he was truly lost to me. He wasn’t turning back, wasn’t changing his mind. I didn’t understand what he was going through. How could one woman ever be enough to satisfy a man like him? Sure, for the sake of the Bratva empire his father had ordered him to find a wife and settle down, but he was taking the whole thing way too seriously.
Pussy-whipped, that’s what he was.
I decided right there and then that I would never be like that.
I may have to get married, but I’d make it very clear right from the start that our relationship would never be an exclusive one.Fuck that.
The hot salty night air and the bright fire pit made my skin slick with sweat as I danced. The woman I was still dancing with, who’s name suddenly evaded me thanks to the fog of alcohol coursing through my brain, was grinding up against my dick, and my hands slid around her waist, holding her tightly up against my body. I was in heaven; sexy women, good drinks and pounding music. Fucking bliss.
I closed my eyes, tilting my head back and reveling in the sensations. A sexy laugh made me open my eyes and scan the crowd moments later though, and my lips quirked up in a smile. I loved a woman who could laugh like that—carefree, seductive. She’d be gorgeous and kissable, if the sound of her was any indication.
Through the throng of people I saw a familiar person. Flashes of Katya’s face—her plump mouth, her bedroom eyes, her bouncing breasts--as she kissed a guy on the opposite side of the fire pit. The sight of her assaulted me and I scowled, realizing it had been her laughing. She'd followed me here after all. The one person I didn’t want to be around, because she was currently the bane of my fucking existence. I shoved Allie, or whatever her name was, away, and stalked towards Katya.
