Page 2 of My Russian Roommate

I watch as the fat man waddles back to his car and drives away then I turn my attention back to my sweet, little victim. I can’t take my eyes off her. I know it’s wrong because she just lost her place. But…Gavno… I can’t help but mentally strip that filthy waitress uniform from her ripe, little body and imagine her sitting here in nothing but her taut, firm skin. Those tits must be so full and perky. I think about kneading them, licking her creamy skin.

Stop, yousvoloch.She needs you right now.

“Now that that’s over, malyshka, can you tell me what happened here?”

Ah, shit. What the hell did I just say? Malyshka? I clear my throat and do my best to look professional, but I can feel my manhood twitching in my pants. Just looking at this girl is giving me an erection and it’s a doozy. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before…especially when I’m working.

I drop my clipboard to cover my crotch before she sees, but I’m not entirely convinced that my penis won’t bust the seam of my pants and leap out at her. I look down at her sweet, pouty lips, waiting for an answer to my question but also wondering if she would wrap them around my aching cock. She doesn’t answer my current question so I switch gears and ask, “Are you alright? Do you need medical attention? Do you need anything?”

She looks up at me with those big blue eyes and sighs, “Yeah, I need somewhere to stay.”

She can’t be more than twenty-one or two but could pass for late teens. Everything about her from her angelic face to her perfect body to the tears of desperation in her eyes draws me in. She’s too young and innocent, but that doesn’t stop my body from reacting to her. I have to physically lock my muscles down tight, just so I won’t reach out and touch her. Doesn’t mean it’s easy.

I was meant to take this call because she’s meant to be with me. I know that now. She needs me and I need to have her. There’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight, so I just make up my mind on the spot. If she has nowhere to go, she’s coming home with me. End of story.

“You don’t have anywhere to go? There’s nobody that you can call? No boyfriend or parents nearby?” I ask her.

She shakes her head, and I release the breath I’ve been holding. No boyfriend. Good. Then, she’s all mine.

“And everything I own was up there,” she points to the charred hole where her window used to be and shakes her head as tears start to roll down her face again.

“I live close. You can stay with me. You’ll be safe and can get some rest. Then, we can figure out what you need to do in the morning.”

I offer her my hand to help her to her feet, and she looks me up and down. My loins tighten at how her eyes rake me.

Maybe it’s the age difference. I am pushing forty. Or, maybe, she’s just not used to people helping her. I guess she’s made her decision because she takes my hand and lets me help her up.

“Where do you live?” she asks me.

“Right there,” I point to the brownstone up the street.

“Okay, thank you. It’s nice of you to help me.”

“No need to thank me. There’s no way I would leave you alone with nowhere to go. I do need one thing from you, though. How about your first name?”

She smiles for the first time. It’s a beautiful smile, “My name is Leah. Leah Robinson.”

“Lev Lindov.”

2

THE OFFICER’S PLACE

LEAH

My mind races as I follow this enormous officer to his apartment.

Why would he offer me a place to stay? He doesn’t even know me. Sure, there would be no chance of me injuring or murdering him. He could snap me in half without breaking a sweat but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t rob him or maybe set his place on fire like my landlord thinks I did to my own place. Maybe he thinks I’m guilty and he’s just trying to keep me in his clutches until it’s time to arrest me.

I don’t know why he’s helping me, but I do know that I’m grateful to have a roof over my head even if it’s only for one night.

Lev Lindov? It’s an unusual name but it goes well with his accent. I don’t know where he’s from but it’s definitely not New York and probably not on this continent. He sounds a lot like the Russian boxer from that movie. Honestly, he looks a lot like him, too. He’s tall and muscular with dark hair and a square jaw. I can tell he’s a good deal older than me but that doesn’t prevent me from noticing how attractive he is. Like hella attractive. If I wasn’t so miserable right now, I’d be drooling. I imagine women don’t mind getting pulled over when they see him approaching their cars.

I follow him into the lobby of the building and up the stairs to the fourth floor. I suppose it was silly of me to think that a man in his physical condition would use the elevator. By the time he stops to unlock his door, I’m trying to hide the fact that the walk left me winded. I was a runner in high school, but I guess the stress of this evening has taken a lot out of me.

We step over the threshold and he turns on the lights. His place is quite impressive. The building isn’t anything special, but his apartment is expensively furnished and neat as a button with everything in its place. I wonder if he has a decorator and a housekeeper because, in my experience, men aren’t the best decorators and they don’t take such meticulous care of things or people.

“Your place is nice,” I mutter, trying to strike up a conversation. The man hasn’t said a word since he offered to let me stay with him.

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