Lev (Shot Callers 1)

Although light petting had been the main theme, I’d never lost my clothing before, not completely anyway, until last night. My tank was pulled over my head in a lust-fueled frenzy. My small breasts were squeezed by large hands. My nipples were rolled between deft fingers. And when his warm mouth closed over one stiff peak and sucked, my back had bowed in a way that might have looked like I was being electrocuted, and it sort of felt like I was, in a way.

Lev was always the one to stop the fun, knowing I was much too irresponsible to be trusted to the task.

Sex had never felt like this as an adolescent. It was clumsy and awkward and inelegant. Even non-sex with Lev was fluid and flowing and graceful. If this was how mild petting went, I could hardly wait for the main event.

Things could not have been going better…until that night.

The club’s crowd had not gotten all that much better, but some of our loyal customers returned after they had their fill of Aphrodite’s Kiss. We were grateful. How could we not be? We treated those customers as if they were kings among men, flashing them smiles, showering them with attention, and flirting at a safe distance.

I wasn’t sure what time it was when Anika came up behind me, leaned forward, and spoke into my ear, but the night was coming to an end. “Sasha wants you in his office. I’ll take over for you.”

Since Lev and I had made it known we were a couple, Anika had been surprisingly pleasing to be around. I thanked her and walked down the hall to the office. I placed my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and let myself in. “You wanted to see m—”

My words were cut off when I spotted the scene playing out before my eyes.

Sasha sat behind his desk, looking angrier than a bull in heat with no lady cows to funk his junk. Vik stood by the antique bookcase, leaning his hip against it, glaring down at the guest chair. The man sitting there was moaning low in his throat, bordering unconsciousness, his face bloody and swollen, hands tied behind his back, while Lev…

He held his fist up, a brass knuckleduster fitted across his fingers, his face screwed up, chest heaving. I gasped lightly, my hand flying to my mouth. That was when he spotted me.

The blood left my face, leaving me feeling cold and confused. My lips parted in shock, and my heart began to race.

The streets were not kind to me. I’d seen things that would make the regular person lose their lunch and this was nothing compared to that. What shocked me was that this was Lev.

Safe, protective, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Lev.

Then all three men were looking at me.

Lev’s brow furrowed and, lowering his balled fist, he moved to step toward me. “Mina—”

I couldn’t look at him. Lowering my gaze to the floor, I uttered, “I’m sorry,” and I saw myself out, shutting the door with a light slam. I turned to walk away, but jumped when I saw Anika standing there, her face emotionless. I licked my dry lips. “Sasha didn’t want to see me, did he?” She lifted her nose in defiance and crossed her arms over her chest. My mind was a chaotic mess of puzzlement. “Why? Why did you do that?”

“You want a life with Lev? This is life with Lev.” She looked smug and I hated her right then. “You want in. You needed to know.” Her tall frame straightened and she spoke down on me, judging me for judging them. “This life isn’t so pretty now, is it, Mina?”

My heart squeezed. “Why do you hate me?”

Her face softened then, but only marginally. “I don’t hate you. I just don’t think you can be there for Lev in the way that I can.” Lifting her hand, she threw it out to Sasha’s office door. “Can you handle that?” I honestly didn’t know if I could. She stated confidently, “Because I can. And it doesn’t change the way I feel about him.”

I rushed past her, throwing my shoulder into her arm, and as I did, she called out, “You’ll thank me for this one day!”

No. No, I wouldn’t.

Lev attempted to approach me approximately a half-hour later, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer his call. I ignored him till he physically walked behind the bar, took me by the hand, and pulled me into the dark, empty corner of the bar. “Mina?” And still, I avoided his gaze. “Mina, talk to me.” His hands came up to cup my cheeks and he spoke a hair’s breadth away from my lips. “Please.”

My voice hoarse, I responded, “Can we talk about it later?”

He ran his thumbs lightly across the apples of my cheeks. “Okay.” Then he brought his lips to mine and kissed me in what I believed was an attempt to make me forget about what I had just seen, but the memory played on a loop. I turned my head to the side, disconnecting our lips, heartbroken.