The Russian's Christmas Present

“I’m sorry Mr. Kozlov.” The valet releases my hand, disappearing inside my car and slowly pulling away.

“You didn’t need to be rude to him.”

“He didn’t need to touch you. Or look at you like you were a possibility.”

Martel steals my breath away, even through my low hum of anger. My pulse speeds and warmth wraps around me even as the chill of the winter breeze spins snowflakes though the air.

“I decide who’s a possibility,” I counter as he stares me down, scratching his bearded cheeks with his knuckles, his eyes drifting down my body and back up. My body tingles like his gaze is a physical touch, and the hairs on the back of my neck raise.

“Sure. Keep thinking that,” he grunts, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go inside. It’s cold. I want to be sure to get things organized and you settled before the circus starts.”

As we walk inside, Martel glares at everyone, his hand slipping to the small of my back, guiding me next to him, and I have the strangest sense of being a prized possession.

I shouldn’t like it.

But I do.

I’ll need to keep reminding myself this is just business.

Because it’s feeling an awful lot like something else.

Chapter 5

Martel

This girl…I knew she was different from the moment I saw her at the Mauricio’s.

I knew she’d done something to me when I left the hotel last night at midnight, after making sure I got her full name from Irina before I left the shop. I then spent an hour on my laptop after getting back to my room from dinner with my mother and grandfather looking up anything and everything I could about her.

Including her address.

By 12:30 am I was sitting outside her house. The late model, mint-green sedan I’d seen parked at Mauricio’s told me I was in the right place. Impossible there were two cars that horrible in the world let alone in the same metro area. My dick was already hard when I pulled up, but my anger was rising that she lived in that neighborhood.

The house next to hers is burned out, and even at that time of night there were small groups of people standing on the corner or walking in the street. Graffiti covered the walls and windows of empty small businesses, while most of the windows in the houses were barred or boarded up.

Still, that anger didn’t stop my stalking ass from watching her with night vision binoculars I borrowed from my father’s hunting gear. He gets some sick thrill from killing exotic, and sometimes endangered, animals. I don’t get it. I think they should drop him in the middle of the savannah naked and see what hunts him sometimes. That would be sport.

When I raised the binoculars, I checked each window until I found her. She was in her bedroom, alone, thank Christ, because if I’d pulled up and there was some other dude in her room, there would have been bloodshed.

Instead, I positioned myself in the car at an angle so I could see inside. She was wearing a silk robe that brushed just under her round ass cheeks, showing off a skimpy fucking pair of panties as she went through her closet, then checked her phone as she laid on her bed.

There were twinkling lights and a little Christmas tree lit up inside her room, but through the other windows of the house I saw nothing that indicated any holiday cheer and a sadness clutched around my chest. I wondered what the rest of her life was like. If she had family that cared for her. Friends that checked on her.

I shook my head, realizing it didn’t matter. From now on, I’d be the one that cared for her. That checked on her. That made sure she was treated the way she should be.

I fought the urge to jack off as long as I could. That is, until she lost the robe, standing there wearing just her panties and a matching little camisole thing, then walked over and locked the door of her bedroom.

Fuck, was she making sure she was safe?

Is she scared of something in her own house?

The rage swept through me like wildfire until I realized maybe it wasn’t that sort of fear that had her securing herself in her room.

It was privacy.

The binoculars gave everything a soft, green, otherworldly glow, but that didn’t stop me from seeing exactly what was about to happen. My dick ached and my balls pulsed as she climbed onto her bed, wiggled down her panties and grabbed a pillow.

Fuck, from there I was gone. I want this girl. Mind, body, spirit, but for that moment I knew I’d take what I could get, which was watching her as she curled up the pillow and climbed on top, straddling it.

Her hips began to flex…front to back, back to front…her arms locked and braced on the bed in front of her. She threw her head back, mouth open, and started rocking, faster, faster…her hips now moving in a little circle as I reached down and fought an angry battle with my pants, getting my cock released with one hand as I held the binoculars in place, unwilling to miss a single second of my own personal sex show.