7. Yuri

I see Petya with a hand around her wrist on the other side of the street before they disappear into the alley. My first urge is to run through traffic to get to them, but I suppress that first instinct. I’m trying to teach her a lesson here, that she needs me. But I also promised her I would never let her learn the kind of sharp lesson I know Petya can teach her. Wants to teach her.

I wait for the light to change and the crosswalk to open but I’m getting fucking impatient. I hate that I can’t see them, my imagination runs to the type of guy Petya is. The only comforting thought is that the alley has some privacy from the street so when I get there, I can do anything I want to him without an audience.

Tasha stands by me at the crosswalk and shoots a glance at me, “What the hell are we waiting for?”

“For the crosswalk.”

The second the light turns; I sprint across the street.

I get to the mouth of the alleyway, I see Katya on the ground, lying on her back, looking up.

Her eyes are fear and acceptance. She’s given up the fight somehow.

My rage turns to the man who caused it.

I grab the son of a bitch by the neck and throw him down on the asphalt.

He tries to struggle to his feet, but I punch him in his face before he can get to his knees. I want to grind his bones into pulp, so I settle for the crack of his skull against the ground.

He doesn’t move, it would be his last if he did and he knows it. I turn my attention to Katya, I say softly, “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head No but doesn’t utter a sound.

“Obviously,” I smile at her. “Dumb question. You will be okay. You’re safe, I’ve got you. Nothing can hurt you when I’ve got you, okay?”

She asks me, quietly, “Are you going to kill him?”

I’d like to. But I can’t start a war with him and whatever bratva is bankrolling him right now. Or murder someone in public.

Katya needs me too much to risk either of those. I can’t go to jail or in hiding for that asshole. She’s very fragile right now, I can’t let her splinter apart.

I gather her up in my arms and carry her to my car, she doesn’t protest or struggle. She lets me, passive and limp in my arms.

I’m tempted to take her to my bedroom to fuck this passivity, this malaise, this fragility, out of her, but I decide against it. It feels like all my aggression was left with Petya in the alleyway, all I have left is tenderness mixed with a smidge of guilt towards Katya. I’ll be myself again in the morning, but right now, I’m someone else. It’s probably because I’m formulating my plan to destroy Petya now, but I really don’t want to do it. Katya would have to be the bait to lure Petya where I can take him out.

I bring her straight into her bathroom and set her down on the edge of the bathtub.

“You got everything you need.”

The room she has is huge, and right now I’m glad it was decorated in soothing pale blues and greys. There’s an equally big bathroom attached, with a deep tub. I turn on the faucets for her, running the water into the huge tub.

“You should have everything,” I say again, nodding to the stack of towels and crystal decanter filled with bath products. “But if you need me, just yell.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles. “Goodnight.”

I close the door behind me and go fix myself a vodka tonic to take the edge off. As I tip it up, it is working, distracting myself from the bruised woman in my apartment, when I hear a crash from the bathroom.

“Katya?”, I yell. “I’m coming.” I shouldn’t have left her alone.

I rush to the door and open it without thought. Thank God, she’s okay. Better than okay, she’s gorgeous laying in the bath under a blanket of bubbles, water running down her wet hair. Then I see the broken decanter and its contents, the bath salts, all over the floor.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident,” she says.

Walking through the steamy room I must pull my eyes from the curves of her glistening wet body, barely concealed beneath mounds of white foam.

“Don’t apologize?” I tell her.

As I clean up the glass and scattered bath salt, I can feel her eyes on me. She’s been through hell tonight, I remind myself.

Every part of me wants to stay here with her, I finally finish cleaning and turn to go.

“Wait,” she says.

I stop and my pulse races again.

“I was trying to wash my hair, before. But my back and shoulders hurt … ”

She needs help.

“I just wanted to wash that … him ... off me...” Her voice almost breaks.

“And you need a hand,” I finish. She nods.

A friend in need .

I can’t turn my back on her in her moment of need.

“Anything,” I reply lightly, unbuttoning my cuffs and rolling up my shirt sleeves.

I settle on the edge of the tub, catching sight of flushed, pink skin draped in bubbles. Katya looks nervous, awaiting my approval. I hadn’t expected to see that on Katya’s face and I’m caught off guard by the intense surge of lust that rises in response.

Is this that obedience she refused to ever give me?

I turn on the water, check to make sure the temperature is perfect. I lift the shower attachment and carefully hold it up to her head, letting the water soak in her long, raven hair.

Katya tips her head back as the hot water pours over her scalp. I freeze when I see the massive bruise on her back. Then I start again, I squeeze a silver dollar-size plop of shampoo into my palms and slide my fingers into her hair. I try to work quickly, detached, but Katya sighs with pleasure.

“That feels amazing,” she says softly. I can see her lips part sensuously, and I fight the urge to bend down and kiss them and take her bottom lip between my teeth.

I work my fingers through her hair and down her neck, stroking softly as I go.

It’s torture since I’ve decided not to fuck her tonight.

She just needs me to take care of her tonight. To help her feel safe. If I fuck her when she’s feeling like this, she’ll confuse my lust with actual feelings. That would be too cruel.

I stop my massage and rinse the shampoo from her hair.

“All done, now.” I keep my tone light, forcing a smile. I don’t want her to know my cock is throbbing.

Katya twists to look at me. Her eyes are wide, and water spikes her dark lashes.

“Really? No conditioner?” she teases and turns to look at me. She winces as she twists and thinks better of it, sinking her back down in the warm water again.

“Fuck,” she says and exhales deeply. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Did… did you kill him?”

I raise my eyebrows. “If I did, how would that make you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to find out?” I ask.

She considers it, then shakes her head.

I want to ask her how wouldn’t that ruin your father’s plans? But I can tell she’s been thinking of Petya and Viktor’s agreement about her without me bringing it up. “If I asked you, would you kill him for me?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. I didn’t add, ‘and for me’.

“Don’t kill him.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’m asking you not to.”

I grab the conditioner and squeeze some into my hands.

Lather.

Rinse.

Repeat.

She closes her eyes and sinks into the water again.

This time, I can’t help my fantasies. I find myself wrapping her long hair around my fist, thinking how much I’d like to tug her head back. Push my stiff cock into her hot, wet, willing mouth. How I’d fuck her throat, how good her soft lips would feel teasing the head of my cock. Her tongue flicking against the sensitive ridge, her lush mouth working my cock into ecstasy.

“Don’t stop,” Katya sighs. “It feels so good.”

It’s all I can do to resist pulling her to me.

She has something that I can’t put my finger on. The ability to confuse and confound me, maybe. As interesting as that is, I’m not sure it’s not also a little too dangerous to have around me. Killing her is always an option … but as I look down into the clear water, I think what a fucking waste that would be.

This woman is rocking my carefully crafted discipline.

I twist the water off and turn toward the door. “I’ve got some calls to make,” I say brusquely. “You’re all set now.”

“Yuri, wait.” Katya grasps my wrist, and the heat of her touch is too much to resist. She tugs me back toward the tub, gazing up at me with a question in her eyes.

“Will you help me out?”

I swear I almost see desire flaring in that gaze, but I must be wrong. Is she trying to seduce me here to get what she wants or is she oblivious to what she’s doing? Against my instincts, I decided to chalk it up to she doesn’t know what she’s doing . The trauma of the day is still working itself out in her.

As difficult as it is, I keep my eyes averted while I help her out of the tub, trying to ignore the way my hands feel against her bare, wet skin. But as I reach for the towel, she’s suddenly pressing into me, her body molding against my torso, those perfect lips crashing into mine in a desperate kiss.

It’s incredible. Hot but sweet, and eager as hell. Wrapping my arms around her, my aching cock pressed against her, I can’t resist returning the kiss, plunging my tongue deep into her mouth to demand her surrender. I lift her up so I’m holding her in my arms.

Katya makes a whimpering noise. God, she has no idea what she’s doing to me. I could make her come like she never has before. It would be so easy.

But I can’t.

Everything about this is wrong. I feel like I’m taking advantage of her vulnerability here.

I gently put her down and moved away, furious with myself for losing control. But one thing is certain: it can’t happen again. I won’t allow it. I grab the towel, opening it and handing it to her as I walk toward the door.

“Get a hold of yourself,” I mutter. I’m not sure whether I’m talking to her or myself.

I stalk from the room, slamming the door shut behind me. I can’t believe I’m leaving Katya standing in there, ready and wanting, but I know she needs more than what a man like me can give her.