Page 89 of Between Us

“You can tell me no,milaya.I'm not that much of a fucking asshole.I'm a man and I'll try to get it as often as I can, but that doesn't mean you have to do it if you don't feel like it.”

The image of Arsen's girl for the night popped up in his head for a brief moment—ugly and unwanted like a festering wound. Despite his Mafia roots and the legacy of violence he carried within himself, Roman knew he could never treat Alessandra—or any other woman, for that matter—in such a degrading way. Not that his Russian Bratva was any less corrupt than its Armenian counterpart, but at least they weren't dealing in human flesh for the sake of making a profit.

Shaking off those thoughts, he kissed Alessandra’s forehead. “Go back to bed and I'll join you in a few minutes.”

“Roman,” she called after him when he started for the bathroom.

He paused and turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

“I can still wash your back, if you want.”

He shook his head, although a smile touched his lips. “Baby, if you get in that shower with me, I won't be able to keep my hands to myself.”

She walked up to him and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. “Then it's a good time to test your self-control.”

“Such a fucking tease.”

She gazed up at him through dark lashes. “I missed you today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Nika was busy in the kitchen, and Vladik was his usual brooding self. I got bored.”

“You know you can always call my sister if you want someone to keep you company.”

Alessandra sighed, and he could see that it wasn’t what she needed. She needed something for herself, something to keep her occupied while he worked during the day. “When is the deadline to apply for college?”

“Mid-November. I’m preparing for it.”

“Is there anything else you'd like to do in the meantime?”

She seemed to consider it before finally shrugging one shoulder. “I don't know.”

“Think about it and let me know.”

She nodded absentmindedly, her pink-colored nails digging into his lower abs.

Roman took her hands into one of his. “Now, go back to bed before I drag you into the shower with me and fuck you anyway.”

She rolled her eyes, though she didn’t comment. Roman watched her saunter her way toward the bed, his eyes glued to her ass. Brushing a hand over his growing erection, he headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

33

“Smells good,” Alessandra noted, leaning over the boiling pot and inhaling some of the hot steam. She'd never had borscht before, but now her curiosity was piqued.

“My mother's recipe,” Tatyana replied from her spot at the kitchen island. “The secret is to season the meat at least seven to eight hours before cooking it. Beef is my favorite.”

“I can't believe Nika never made borscht. Isn't it a staple in Russian cuisine?”

Tatyana smiled over the rim of her wine glass. “It is. Maybe she's not a traditional cook. Many Russians that left the motherland have started to adhere to different customs over the years. It's easy to forget traditions when you've been gone for two or three decades.”

Alessandra left the stove and joined her sister-in-law at the island. At Roman's suggestion, she'd been trying to spend more time with Tatyana, not only to pass the time but also because she really enjoyed her company.This afternoon, after a quick call to announce her arrival, she'd driven to Tatyana's apartment on a whim and had walked in on a messy kitchen and the smell of boiling vegetables filling the place.

Vladik, her ever-present shadow, was in the living room, making himself comfortable on a plush chair. Even though she'd gotten used to his presence by now, there were days she wished she could leave the house without him breathing down her neck.

“When did your family leave Russia?”

“My father came here when he was nineteen, looking to make a better life for himself. He met my mother a year later. She was born in New York to immigrant parents. Her mother was Russian, and her father Ukrainian. Her father left them when she was two then her mother died six years later. She grew up in foster homes until she was eighteen and was finally able to take control of her own life. On her eighteenth birthday, she took the bus to Chicago and never looked back.”

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