Indulgence: A Russian Mafia Romance (Grekov Mafia Book 1) by Jacee Macguire Read Free Book Online

within me. He was danger incarnate, and I was a moth driven to his flame.
    Slapping me on the ass, Nikola growled, “Hurry RAdost’ moyA, I do not like to be kept waiting.” Dear God! The sting on my ass cheek felt so good. I had never been spanked before, and I was shocked to discover there was a part of me that wanted him to spank me again and again until I begged him to stop… and then begged him for more.
    With glossy eyes, I squeaked a quick, “Yes sir,” then hurried down the hall to my bedroom, giving myself a once over in the mirror as I grabbed my black clutch. I hurried quickly to the living room. “I’m ready if you are.”
    “Let’s go, RAdost’ moyA.” His voice was thick and heady as he placed his hand on the small of my back.
    The heat of his hand against my back almost had me squirming. I half-feared, half-yearned for him to do something in the elevator. Fortunately – or not – he was a perfect gentleman during the ride down.
    Stepping into the night air, I came face to face with a large, fierce-looking man with a scar on his left cheek. I could only imagine how he must have acquired an injury like that. He looked like the kind of man that killed for a living, and considering my present company, he probably did just that. The scar-faced man opened the door of a black Range Rover with all the bells and whistles. It glistened under the street light, ready to thrust me into a world of danger and intrigue, like the man by my side.
    Nikola helped me into the SUV, giving me a boost that sent naughty chills racing within me. I didn’t know what to expect from a date with this man, but I was sure it would be more interesting than any date I’d been on before. The drive to the restaurant was painfully quiet. I stole a few glances at the driver, trying to place him from the numerous pictures that littered the Grekov file that I had perused countless times in recent weeks. Whoever he was, he had yet to fall onto the DEAs radar. I made a mental note to learn what I could about him.
    The restaurant, Pravda, was located on Lafayette Street, an area I never visited when I lived in New York growing up. Although I’d never eaten here, I’d read countless articles applauding the success and tasty Russian cuisine offered. The foodie in me stood at attention, eager to see what the fuss was all about.
    “Have you ever been here?” Nikola asked.
    “I haven’t. I’ve heard the food is divine, though,” I said with a smile as he led me inside.
    “That it is. Very authentic.”
    I quickly glanced around the place, taking in my surroundings. It wasn’t a ritzy place at all, which in some ways shocked me. I had thought a man of Nikola’s wealth, however he obtained it, would prefer a high-class restaurant. Pravda, which meant truth, was a relaxing little hole in the wall place; my kind of place. Immediately, I felt the tension drain out of me. Maybe this wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as I had imagined.
    “Right this way, Mr. Grekov,” a young hostess said. “Your table is ready.” We were led to a private table in the corner of the room, separated from the wandering eyes of the other patrons.
    Nikola nodded at the approaching waitress as we slipped into the booth. The lighting was dim throughout, making you feel as though you are attempting to hide in plain sight.
    “Will you be needing menus tonight, sir?” the waitress asked.
    “No. We will have the oysters and fried calamari… and a bottle of your premium vodka. Bring us an iced rack while we wait.”
    “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” the young lady rushed off with the order, returning almost instantly with an iced container filled with six shots of chilled vodka. I wasn’t a big drinker so the thought of consuming so much alcohol worried the hell out of me, the fear of getting drunk and spilling my secrets flashing across my mind like a thunderous lightning storm. If I got too wasted, would I blab the truth? Dear god! I hoped I could keep it