Bratva's Brat (Loftry University Playthings 2)

John rubs a hand across his face, his age showing for the first time since I’ve known him. Looking at me for a moment, he strokes his jaw, his expression thoughtful. I don’t like that look. Usually, that means he’s planning something that I don’t want to hear.

“Look, let me get you another submissive. Someone more meek and humble, someone willing to serve you. If you had asked me even a year ago, I’d say Chelsea was perfect. After that display…” He shakes his head. “She needs to be retrained.”

A flash of anger fires back through me at the thought of him taking her away. She’s not perfect, no doubt about it, but for some reason, she feels perfect for me - for my mission. If I had the submissive of my dreams, she wouldn’t last one moment with the traffickers and the sex fiends. Chelsea is different. She’s a fighter, and a fighter is just what I need.

“I’ll have to decline your offer, John. Chelsea will be perfect once I get her under my control.” At his pointed look, I sigh and raise my hands. “I’m not going to kill her. Hell. Do I need to sign another contract? Not one of your girls has returned to you in anything less than pristine condition.”

“No. You don’t. But, damn it, Grigori. I’m harsh, but I’d never claim a girl in that manner.”

Sneering, I shove past him, my shoulder ramming into his, setting him off-balance for a moment. The comedy of him losing enough composure to flail about for a moment is lost on me as I pin him to the wall with my glare. Who the hell is he to lecture me on what I do with my property. Friends or not, there are lines you don’t cross, and for the sake of my friendship, I hope he decides to back down because I never will.

“That’s because you’ll never claim one. I’m going to be front and center if you ever do, though. That will be a sight to see. The mighty John Anderson, ball-and-chained by a submissive.”

His teeth bare in a snarl as he pushes up from the wall and slaps a folder into my hand.

“Then I wash my hands of you both.”

Taking the papers, I drop my head in a curt nod before heading out the door, not waiting to see if he will follow me or not. The weight of his anger is like daggers at my shoulders, but none of that matters at the moment. What matters right now is getting Chelsea home. My mind pictures her lying in my bed, her rich chocolate hair fanned out on my pillow, her wrists tied to the headboard. Oh yes, I’ve made the right decision.

Smatterings of whispers crawl up my spine as I slip back into the main room. Several heads are huddled together, furtive glances cast my way. Stifling a growl, I whip my head back and forth, scanning for my submissive. She doesn’t seem to be back out into the main area yet. Frowning, I glance over at one of the clocks in the corner, its thudding ticks dampened by the myriad of voices flitting through the space. She should be out by now.

I narrow my gaze at a few of the young men whose voices carry a bit louder than the others, their crass conversation souring my mood. Say what they will about me, but I won’t let them talk about Chelsea like that. Bending the folder in my grip, I make my way over to them before almost colliding into a wall of solid muscle. A sigh huffs past my lips before I can hold it back as I step away from my bodyguard.

“You need I pummel them?”

Grimacing at his broken English, I shake my head and turn back towards her bathroom, slapping the folder against his chest before turning on my heel. He follows behind, his smattering of English and Russian driving nails into my brain.

With a quick pluck of my fingers, I snag my clothing out of his hands and struggle to drag them on my body. I forgo buttoning the shirt, opting to keep it open and loose. Too many sensations are abrading my flesh as it is. I hoist my suspenders up before ramming my feet into my shoes. I need to see what’s taking Chelsea so long, not fooling with these damned clothes.

Venom, thick and hot, rises up my throat as I get closer to the door. Fingers clench into hard fists as my brain spins out of control. I shouldn’t be getting this bent around the axel over a girl, yet, here I am, about to break one of the main rules over people doing the same fucking thing I was just doing a week or two ago. Though the idea of hurting one of these members is alluring, the consequences would not be. Pausing, I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath through my nose. Time to collect my submissive and get home.