Chapter Four - Andrei

I hide my surprise when she says yes. If she only knew what I am, maybe she wouldn’t be so excited to receive a ride from me. That’s the thing; the women of Chicago love a bad guy, and by all definitions I am one of the worst in town. I think Sophia’s different as she sits beside me in the passenger seat for two blocks and small chit-chat later.

There’s something about those emerald-green eyes that make me want to discover more, and the freckles hidden under only a thin sheet of makeup are appealing too. Her lips are sultry enough for me to consider being introduced to them.

“So, I’m your chauffeur at your service,” I joke. “Where are we headed?”

“Right near Melrose Park,” she answers. “I’ll give you more directions when we get closer,” she replies evasively, watching out of the window. Chuckling, I try to settle her nerves, not understanding them, given she appeared confident or na?ve to take a ride with me in the first place.

“Hey, I’m the one who saved you from the creepy guy in the alley,” I remind her. “You can relax. I promise I’m taking you right home,” I tell her in a satiny tone.

“I know you are for some reason,” she mumbles, side-eyeing me, her adorable smile arousing to look at. She’s not like the other women who fling themselves at me. No. Not those. And they know what I am—who I am—and want in on the perks of the Bratva lifestyle. She’s not overdone either with caked on makeup. She’s herself, from what it seems, managing to maintain a sensual allure effortlessly. And the winning factor, the main reason I’m giving her a ride home, is I can’t put my finger on why. It makes me want her even more.

“Oh, you do, huh?” I tease, hungering for information on her.

“Yeah, it’s strange.” She frowns, as if shaken by the fact she’s let me drive her home, and most would not.

“I don’t think it’s that strange. I’m a nice guy, I promise.” Only if you play with my money, my associates, or my business do I then become a very nasty, ruthless guy, but these things Sophia doesn’t need to know.

“Spoken like all other nice guys I’ve met.” Her sarcasm throws me off-balance, but it’s refreshing at the same time as she directs me wordlessly, and I stop in front of a block of neat, modest apartments.

“I guess you’ll have to find out if I’m telling the truth.” I want to keep her engaged, because there’s a distinct feeling drawing me towards her.

“I guess. Were you not having a good time? Is that why you were happy to drive me home tonight?” she probes.

Shrugging, I tell her the truth. “I wasn’t having that great a time. I didn’t feel like drinking, and besides you are far more interesting to speak to.”

“Are you always so smooth?”

Watching her blush is making things a lot more fun. “No. You must bring it out in me.” I wink, my cock tweaking. Oh, she is fun. Maybe we can have more fun.

“Maybe I do,” she quips but not looking at me. “I need to text my friends to tell them I’m home safe.”

“Good idea.” I watch as she texts her friends, her ginger hair giving me every reason to touch it. It catches in the light of the streetlamp we’re parked under, and once she’s done, I bide my time hoping she’s going to invite me in for a nightcap and other naughty things….

“I hope you know I don’t normally do this, but do you want to come in for a while?”

“Sure. I’m enjoying your company.” I take her up on her offer as she gets out, following her, and checking out the street behind, mainly out of habit. My gun’s in my glove box, and I figure it can stay there. I’ve got a knife in my pocket if I need to use it, but I doubt I will.

Once inside, I’m pleasantly surprised by the homey feel and the sweet vanilla scent. Her house is as neat as a pin. It’s spacious, and I quickly work out it’s probably a two-bedroom unit, but everything is methodically in its place. There’s a bookshelf in the corner of the living room, and all the books are color coded.

Smirking, I drop my hands in my pockets. “Wow. You like order,” I point out, walking around.

She giggles sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m a little OCD about things being in their right place. Mind you, I’m not going to yell if it’s out of place or whatever, but I’ll probably put it back where it belongs quickly.”

Her candid admissions are endearing, and it’s still remarkable that she’s let a random stranger inside her home. “I get it.” I notice that on the dining room table is a vase of assorted flowers. I smile, liking the cute touch. I finger one of the petals, finding out they’re real. “I like things in order too.”

“Okay, that’s good. Can I get you something to drink?” she asks nervously as I wander over to the bookshelf, picking up a photograph of what looks to be her family. The picture’s old enough because she’s a younger girl with a long ginger ponytail in it.

“Yeah, whatever you’ve got is good by me,” I call out, wanting to know more about the man and woman in the photo.

She comes over with a glass of juice for herself and hands one over for me. “Oh.” A gloomy expression casts over her face as she stares flatly at the photograph almost in regret.

“Relatives?”

“Yeah, close relatives. That’s my mom and dad.” There’s a wistful longing on her face, and it’s one I recognize.

“You see them much?”

After a long drawn-out pause Sophia sighs heavily. “No. They died when I was seventeen in a car accident. Same old story, some stupid drunk driver,” she remarks in bitterness. “They were coming back from a road trip in Nantucket. They loved to road trip.”

She’s suffered loss like me. A painful stab hits my chest as the memory jogs mine of holding on to my father after they shot him in front of me. I was only a kid, and at the time, I’d hoped they’d shoot me too, because of how badly it hurt, but they didn’t. They took it one step further and let me live with the haunting memory of the murder.

“Sorry. I know how much it hurts,” I confess, not wanting her to feel alone. Maybe this is why we’re drawn to each other.

Her eyes widen in alarm. “You do? Have you lost someone special in your life?”

“Yes,” I reply in a matter-of-fact tone. “I lost my father. He was murdered in front of me when I was a kid in Russia.”

“What, holy shit! How? What?” Her shock endears her to me, even though she’s suffered herself, it appears she would much like to hear about my suffering.

“Chance opportunity for scumbags in the neighborhood. We didn’t live in best places when I was young,” I explain, covering up parts with a white lie. My father was Bratva, and stupidly he crossed the wrong people without covering his ass. He was not as smart as me, but this information is on a need-to-know basis. Oddly, I think if she pressed me more, I would probably confide in her.

“Oh. That’s terrible. It’s the memories and flashbacks, isn’t it?”

“Yes. It is.” Her eyes flitter with a sudden sadness that I want to take away. The pain never truly leaves. It might become duller with less shine, but it never subsides completely. I learned for a little while from my father, but after that, my brother Pakhan showed me the Bratva ropes, but that fatherly advice is something I miss to this day.

“Every day I wish they would come back to earth, but they’re not going to, so hey, what can I do?” She shrugs as I move in closer to her, instantly wanting to comfort her.

“Did they find the man who killed them?”

“No. He got off due to a technicality. The justice system failed my parents; it’s probably the reason I’m so hell-bent on becoming a lawyer. The guy was part of some fucked-up gang and get this—they were from Chicago.” I can see in her eyes that she reliving the memory on the spot.

“They were?” If she knew the service I provide, I could probably find them and kill them myself. “Do you know who?”

“Saints of Destruction. Some stupid name like that. They were smuggling narcotics across the border.”

“Huh. I’ve never heard of them.” And that’s the truth, I haven’t, but it’s likely one of our Bratva networks would know about them. I commit the name to memory, knowing that later I’ll find out who they are. If they’re Chicago street thugs, it will take no time to find them. What I will do to them when I find them, is another story.

“You wouldn’t have heard of them, because they’re criminals and you’re not,” she replies, ferocity in her tone as the pain of the past resurfaces.

I only nod, wanting to smile, because if the truth were revealed I wouldn’t have the privilege of being inside her home. “If I was around then, I would have made sure they never did that again,” I explain, stroking a wandering hand through her ginger hair.

Sheepishly, she gulps down her orange juice, taking her time to look up. “Thank you. It’s okay. I’ve learned to cope with their death. Do you want to sit down?”

“Sure. Your couch looks comfy and big.” I wink, wanting her to feel comfortable. Finishing the rest of my juice, I set it down on the table next to the couch, smirking internally as I think about what I really want to say to her. If I knew who her parents’ killers were, I would have hunted them down and gutted them like fish. I still might….

Her body turns inward as she sets her juice down as well. Her emerald eyes link with mine.

“Did you ever find out who your father’s killer was?” she asks inquisitively.

“Yes.” Smiling, I recall the pleasure of meeting Slovac years later alongside my brother, shooting him execution style in a robbery deal gone right for us. “He was caught and dealt with, but this probably isn’t the best nighttime conversation to be having,” I add, shifting the topic and then her ginger hair from her shoulder.

She chuckles. “Sorry for being dark about things.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I whisper lightly. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’ve got something in common and have lost the people we love the most. You’re a strong one.” I rub my thumb over her hand briefly as she smiles. “It’s just you’re so beautiful that I don’t want to waste the time I have with you.”

“Hmm. That’s nice,” she replies deliberately, sizing me up. “What is it you do for work?”

“Distribution. Warehouse shipments are complicated. That type of thing,” I reply, lowering my voice, her neck begging for my mouth. I kiss her there softly, her long lashes fluttering before her eyes shut. As I draw back, I watch, not wanting to take it further than she wants. I like this one. She has special qualities, and she’s strong. A survivor like me.

“Okay. Distribution… sounds….”

“Uninteresting?” I jump in as she giggles, and I break into a smile with her.

“No, I wasn’t going to say that. Maybe it is interesting. You haven’t told me everything,” she persists, my expression darkening and lust driving me.

“Not as interesting as you, especially in that little black dress of yours,” I flirt, her cheeks blushing. I drop a hand back over the couch as she stills, her leg touching mine.

Surprisingly, she leans forward, her full, provocative mouth parting as my hand glides to the nape of her neck firmly drawing her in deeper. I feel her body melt as my tongue flattens against hers, my cock rising from its slumber. The kiss deepens as her hand splays over my chest, a whimper escaping her irresistible lips. Lost in the moment, I pull her forward, her back arching, but I quickly apply restraint, panting as her eyes fly open.

She’s beautiful, and it’s not as if I don’t want her. No. This is the perfect end to my night. I want every part of her. “Why did you stop?”

“Because, Sophia,” I reply gruffly, blood rushing through my veins.

“Because what?” Her hands tinker around with the buttons on my shirt for a fraction of a second.

“Do you want this? Because if I keep going, I’m not stopping once I start.”

Nervously, her bottom lip folds in. “Yes.” She nods, a slight smile sweeping over her pretty face. That’s all I need. Dragging her down underneath me, I’m glad her couch is wide and big enough for both of us because I can’t wait to take her to the bedroom.

Hovering over for a minute, I stare at her face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, wanting to give her and myself a night of intense pleasure. “We need to take this off.” I drag my hands up under the dress, hitching it above her head, pitching it to the floor.

“You too. Your shirt,” she says as I wink.

“Yeah. My shirt.” Unbuttoning my black collared shirt, I let it fall to the floor. Sophia’s face flushes as she touches my broad chest timidly.

Maybe she’s shy…. Her breasts are full, waiting for my hungry mouth to play. Unhooking her bra, I squeeze a handful, covering my lips over one, using my tongue. Her body squirms underneath me as I take to the other one, sliding the nipple between my lips. Her small groans are a guide through the darkness, but I can’t help but feel as if she’s inexperienced from her reactions.

Working my way down, I slide her unlikely black boy shorts off, finding Sophia more and more appealing as I removes her layers of clothing, adding to the collection of her underwear on the floor. Carnal desire kicks in as my mouth runs its course down the length of her firm, tight body. She’s not the athletic type, not even voluptuous like some of the strippers I’ve dealt with, but that’s what I like about her. She’s the perfect blend of somewhere in between—real….

As I drop further, her stomach ripples back and forth. I sense she’s not quite ready for the aggression of my touch. My tongue caresses the crevice of her belly button, dipping in and out, a quiet shudder floating from her mouth. She’s still warming up, and I’ve got my suspicions as to why.

What am I dealing with here?

I ignore the reaction, buying time, but thirsting to bury my face between her thighs. This pretty little one needs a little foreplay. Easy… I want her open to me, enjoying herself, but there’s something I can’t put my finger on just yet. Carving out my path, I raise up, studying her eager face as I stand dropping my pants. Her eyes boggle at the bulge in my pants and I grin.

“All for you,” I tell her smoothly as a doubtful expression crosses her porcelain features.

“Will it fit?” she asks bluntly, raising up on her elbows.

“Of course you’ll fit. I’m made for that pussy of yours,” I convince her with a smile on my face. “Are you—” I ask, stopping for a second as I hover my large weight over her, realizing what the real roadblock is. She nods stiffly.

“Yeah, I am. Does that bother you?” she asks, a concerned expression on her face.

“No. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s more of a turn-on,” I coax, not able to remember the last time I fucked a virgin. She’s going to be tight. Oh yes. I’m about to christen a pussy. This night is turning out to be better than I imagined. I almost want to burst into flames from restraint, my cock awakening as I resume going down on her. “Open up and spread your legs for me, honey. I’ve got a special treat,” I softly command, her legs slowly spreading open.

An untouched beauty, and willing… as her legs split, one draping over the side of the couch, I inhale the scent of her sex, licking around her inner thigh, her body shivering in delight. Oh yes, this is going to be a bunch of fun. I tease lightly, crooking my head to dive deeper, reaching my tongue into its natural home of her tight, wet pussy. I feel her body relax as I lap at her slickened folds. I feel her cave in to the sensations, driving me wild as her hands don’t know where to go, lightly touching my skull in lust.

“Wow. Feels so good,” I hear her respond, giving me more reason to keep going harder.

I dip my head further inside, gliding into her wonderland as her moans become louder, her inhibition shaking loose. There you are. Let me bring out the untamed side of you. The one nobody but me knows about yet.

Picking up my pace, I flit the curve of my tongue over her swollen clit, sucking, licking and teasing until her groans increase, letting me know I’m close to being the first man to bring her to orgasm. As my ego and cock soar, her hands sink deeper into my hair. I take hold of her hips as they buck from the pressure of my tongue.

“Andrei!” she cries out loudly, her encouragement all the drive I want or need. As she whimpers, I pant, desperately wanting to penetrate.

“Is it good?” I grunt, smiling as I drop my underwear, watching her body writhe from the beauty of the orgasm I just gifted her.

“Too good.”

“I’ll be gentle,” I tell her as a fleeting expression of being overwhelmed shifts over her face when she sees my girth. I slowly guide myself into her, relieved when I break through. “You’re so sweet and tight,” I groan slowly as her internal walls stretch around me after a few pushes, and I gently thrust. It takes a minute to adjust as I watch her facial expressions change with all the motions.

“Tell me if you want me to go easier.” In response she adjusts, lifting her hips slightly as I feel part of her breaking free even more. I take myself deeper inside her, watching as she bites down on her lip, taking what she can of my girth.

God, I want more, but I’m working at Sophia’s pace, besides this isn’t the last time I plan to fuck her. I can wait. Carefully I circle my nub, easing in, as her body grips tight around me, relaxing with a sigh. As I thrust deeper, Sophia brings another surprise.

“More. More, Please. Don’t stop.”

Concentrating, sweat starts to drip from my face as I pump, and she moans. I trace my fingers through her ginger hair, gritting my teeth as the pressure builds inside my cock. “What are you doing to me, Sophia? You feel too good,” I press out, my heart thudding in my chest until I’m ready to explode from the inside out.

Huffing and puffing from exertion, my cock thickens inside her tight pussy, climbing on the ride to climax, lights swimming around my head, blurring my vision. Maybe it’s because she’s bound so tight that the sex feels that good, but it’s the best I’ve experienced in a long while.

I land on top of her for a few seconds catching what’s left of my breath, her arms stretched around my back in embrace. Kissing her lightly, I pull out of her. “Did you enjoy?” I ask, hoarse in tone and sweeping her hair out of her face.

“Yes. Thanks for being gentle at first.”

I kiss her again with a mischievous smirk. “Next time I won’t be so polite.” I get up briefly, flicking off the light, and pulling the blanket from the couch behind her over us, sliding it over our naked bodies.

Stay awake and slip out. You can call her later. That’s what I tell myself for a second, but it doesn’t happen. Zapped from the day, and wanting to lay next to Sophia’s soft body, I spoon behind her, finding myself not wanting to get up.

I could stay here forever. Drifting off, I don’t know what time it is when I do wake, seeing Sophia’s blissful face. She’s sleeping soundly in the crook of my arm. That’s what a good cock will do for you. Sleep well, Sophia. I kiss her cheek, deciding she’s innocent, yet sophisticated.

A ping on my phone redirects me to slide my arm out from underneath her. Squinting, I lean over her to the floor, feeling around for my phone. Picking it up, I see it’s a text message from Makar.

MAKAR: I’ve got inside info. It’s not good. Call me.

Shit. Sighing, I grimace, not wanting to wake sleeping beauty. She looks so peaceful, and my ego is satisfied that I had a hand in putting that sappy smile on her freckled face. Slipping out, I reply to Makar.

ME: Got it. Talk in a minute.

Picking up my clothing, I quickly get dressed, checking I’ve got everything I came with. I take a hard look back at Sophia. Farewell. For now. As I open the door, her eyes fly open, staring blankly at me. I wait for her to ask where I’m going so fast, but all she does is keep staring.

There’s so many questions buried in the depth of those emerald jewels. Good. She doesn’t want to look like she’s desperate. Smart. Makes sense. She’s planning on being a lawyer, and that’s all about asking the right questions.

“Bye.” Opening the door wider, I leave without looking back because I know damn well, I’m going to get to her again.