The Score (4 page)

She was so soaked, the juices of her pussy coating his cock and already slicking up his balls. Anton loved her like that, and the smell of her sex was heady and thick in the air. Viviana rested her cheek to the wall, gritted her teeth, and bit out a stream of obscenities that only made Anton fuck her harder.

The grip he had on her body was likely going to leave imprints of his fingertips that would stay for days. He’d enjoy kissing them when she woke up tomorrow and then making more.

A slight shift in his hips, a little raise in her leg, and Anton hit a whole new spot that made Viviana gasp out a broken cry of his name.

“God, yeah …
there
.”

“There, you sure?”

“Fuckin’ right there,” Viviana breathed. “Oh, I’m coming …”

Viviana shook and cursed through her orgasm, her inner muscles flexing and fluttering. The sensation milked Anton’s cock to a finish, taking him right over the edge with his wife. Anton wanted her to feel his come filling and coating her, so he gave her one last hard thrust and held her ass tight to his groin as he came.

“Fuck, oh fuck, yeah,” Viviana chanted.

She all but crumpled into his embrace when he finally stepped back to pull out of her warm body and released her leg. Sweat had slicked up his skin something awful. Viviana couldn’t seem to catch her breath or complete a sentence. Anton rubbed the sting she must have felt in her thigh out with his hand, feeling his hot come trickling down the inside of her leg. All the while, he kissed a path on her shoulders.

“Love you, baby,” Anton said.

Viviana blinked out of her haze. “Mmm, love you. Best anniversary gift ever.”

Yeah, it wasn’t going to be easy to top this one.

***

When Anton thought about Barbados now, he wasn’t transported back to a different time. Now, he thought about the heat, the taste of sweat on his wife’s skin, keeping her close in crystal blue, cold water and sand everywhere. He thought about the pile of white blankets on the floor in the middle of the living room because they couldn’t pick a goddamn bed. The way the bay windows streaked rays of sunlight over every inch and curve of his wife curled up in those blankets.

It still had that living, breathing kind of feel to it in his heart, of course.

It was still so beautiful.

It just wasn’t the same. It was better.

Anton rested back on the white leather couch, taking a drink of his too-hot coffee and ignoring the way his T-shirt stuck to his skin. The air conditioner system in the house needed repaired. For the last three days, he’d been taking inventory of things that needed updated or fixed in some way, and that was one of them.

Viviana didn’t complain, though. It probably helped she barely wore a damned thing and when she did, it was usually a bikini. Anton wasn’t complaining about that, either.

They barely left the house except to go and get the few supplies they would need for their four day stay. Occasionally Anton found his wife outside in the back, walking across the beach or sitting in the ocean with salt waved hair and a smile, ordering him in the water, too.

Really, they didn’t need to leave and without saying it to each other, this trip was essentially the honeymoon they didn’t have before. Anton knew he owed his wife one, so he was giving it to her in the tenfold now.

Viviana still used the house phone to call about Demyan at least four times a day. Anton figured she couldn’t help it, being the boy’s mother and all. It didn’t matter if their son had a village of people to care for him—which he kind of did, an entire brotherhood worth of men to help raise the little prince—no one was going to do it as well as she did.

A quiet groan drew Anton’s attention to the pile of blankets on the floor. Hell, it was so hot the night before, Viviana jumped in a cold shower and then promptly fell asleep still wet in the blankets. Viviana stretched in her makeshift bed, her sun kissed skin looking so damned good in that mountain of white. It was well into the afternoon, and their last day on the island, so he’d let her sleep until she was ready to get up.

“Morning,” Viviana said, rolling to her back and giving him the sweetest view of her tits.

“More like afternoon, baby.”

“Really?”

Anton nodded, smiling. “Didn’t want to bother you by getting you up earlier.”

They’d fly back to New York in the middle of the night. It was safer for him to arrive that way. Less likely to draw attention.

“Did you run this morning?” Viviana asked, turning on her side and propping her chin up on her hand.

“Nope. Too busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Watching you.”

Viviana’s tinkling laughter was muffled when she turned into the blankets again. “Whatever, Anton.”

“It’s the best way to spend a morning.” Brown eyes peeked up over the sea of white and Anton knew what she was going to ask before she did. “Yes, I called about Demyan an hour ago. Ma’s going to take him to the indoor park to meet up with Ivan’s girls.”

“That’s good.”

Anton cocked a brow. “You’re still going to call, aren’t you?”

“Probably. I miss him, that’s all.”

“I know you do, baby.”

Viviana did another stretch, mewling a soft noise, and hooking her leg over the blankets so all her curves were on display. She reminded him of a kitten in the morning. Sweet and soft, with tiny claws that rarely ever hurt. A familiar heat began coiling in Anton’s gut.

They’d loved more than enough over the last couple of days. Touched more than he’d ever remembered. Fucked in every place he could have her. But, there was one thing he hadn’t done, or rather, hadn’t told her. He’d been reminded of that earlier in the morning while he stared at the smooth contour of her stomach that led down to the bareness of her sex.

“Vine?”

“Hmm, what, Anton?”

Setting the coffee aside, he tugged off his shirt and dropped his shorts, crawling through the blankets to meet his wife’s gaze through all the white. Gently, but firmly, he pushed her to her back, using his knees to widen her legs open for him to seat himself between her thighs. They always fit so well together like this, no matter which way he liked her the best.

Above her looking down, Anton a thickness built in his throat, but he cleared it away. “I want a baby.”

Viviana’s brow furrowed. “I know. I thought we already talked about this.”

Anton shook his head, spreading her wider, tracing his thumbs along her sensitive folds. Sure they talked about it. Viviana stopped her shot, he didn’t use condoms. They couldn’t really try any more than they already were, but that wasn’t what he meant, either.

Viviana shifted her hips upward, seeking him. She opened so well for him, taking his member in short thrusts that filled her quickly. With each one, he could see she woke up a little more, her head tilting back into the blankets to expose her neck.

“No, Vine. I know we did. That’s not what I meant. I want a baby.”

Finally, she seemed to understand. It wasn’t about what they had already agreed, it was what he wanted to do
now
.

Breathless and seeming spun, Viviana whispered, “Okay.”

Chapter Four

Anton was glad to see the near end of January finally arrive. The hustle and bustle of the holidays he didn’t celebrate were finally over. Everyone else was getting back to their normal routine instead of the craziness Christmas and New Year brought with them.

Demyan plopped himself on the couch, settling in with the cup of juice his mother had given him. Once he was snuggled into his father’s side, he seemed content to stay still and focus on the television.

“The car one?” he asked his father.

Anton nodded and started the movie of his son’s choice. “Yeah, little man. Let’s watch that.”

Watching children’s cartoons wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but his son enjoyed it. This was the first Friday night he’d spent at home in a long time. Too damn long, really, so he wasn’t about to make Demyan watch something more grown up that would bore the kid.

Viviana walked through the living room with her book in hand, sitting down in a lounger and giving her husband a wink topped off with a brilliant smile. She was happy to have him home on a Friday night, too. Things had been so good between them since they arrived home from Barbados three weeks ago.

Anton was dying to know if she picked up any pregnancy tests. They’d been trying for their second child for a month. Actually, a month and a half if he took into account the two weeks she’d been off her shot before telling him. If Anton considered how fast she conceived Demyan after forgetting her birth control shot the last time, he was hoping this time wouldn’t be any different. Viviana was a fertile woman, thank God. Beyond all that, he was pretty damned sure his wife was late this month, but he was too pussyfoot to ask.

Yeah, his curiosity was a killer.

“Vine?”

“Hmm?”

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

Viviana looked up over her book with glittering eyes. “Fine. Why?”

Anton shrugged and turned back to the cartoon. “Just curious.”

“Sure you are.”

The teasing lit in her tone didn’t escape his notice. Had Viviana already taken the steps to find out if they’d conceived or not? He was away from the house most of the week doing business and back at a later time than normal, so she very well could have picked something up at the store, or made an appointment at the clinic.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?”

“Not yet,” she replied sweetly. “But soon, maybe.”

That was enough for Anton. God, he so wanted to see her growing with his child again. “Yeah?”

Viviana grinned knowingly. “
Maybe
, Anton. Stop worrying about it.”

“Papa?”

“What Demyan?” Anton asked, glancing down at his ever curious child.

“Shhh, be quiet.”

Damn kid.

“All right, little man. Papa will shut up.”

“Yeah, shut up,” Demyan muttered.

Anton didn’t correct Demyan, mostly because he’d been the one to say it first. He had a feeling that was going to be the story of his life when it came to his son.

***

Anton rushed out of the bathroom with a toothbrush still stuck in his mouth to catch the ringing cell phone he’d left in his jeans pocket. Viviana raised a brow at him from their bed, obviously recognizing the ring. It was his work cell phone, the one his men used to call him if something needed attention and it was Bratva related.

“Yeah?” he mumbled into the phone.

“Boss, you busy?”

Anton recognized Boris’s voice instantly. Boris was one of his oldest brigadiers, or captains, and one of his very best.

“Why?” Anton asked, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth and turning his back on his glaring wife.

“Remember those fucking gangbangers that were poking their noses in mine and Viktor’s streets?”

Some of Anton’s men had been having issues with a few local gang members. Anton wasn’t sure if the young kids were actually members of the gang, or simply trying to be. Problem was, they were dangerous, moving in on the Bratva’s dealers, causing shit, and stealing. It just wasn’t okay or acceptable. Anton tried to let it go, stay out of view of the police, but sometimes it didn’t work that way. He had a feeling this was one of those times.

“Sure. What about it?”

“They tried a goddamn drive by on one of Viktor’s guys tonight. Clipped him good.”

Anton cursed under his breath. “And?”

“Some of Viktor’s guys retaliated. Let’s just say it’s finished. But we were left with the vehicle, you know? There were twenty bricks in the back. Twenty. A few pounds apiece. You need to get down to the club and handle this product. Check it, whatever. Decide on who you want to handle it from here.”

Crap. This was one of the perks, and downfalls, of Anton’s position. When things were picked up that weren’t already theirs, or stolen, for lack of a better term, like the drugs Boris was dancing around, Anton was the only one allowed to handle distributing the products. That way no one could say a fucking word about the profit turned on it because the boss decided, not anyone else.

“Just a second,” Anton muttered into the phone. Holding his hand over the receiver, he turned to Viviana. “Baby, I need to handle something.”

Viviana’s pretty lips drew a thin line. “You promised to stay home with me tonight.”

“I’m sorry, really. Something came up. I have to handle it tonight, get it out of my hands. The less time I have with it, the better. I won’t stay at the club late tomorrow night, okay?”

“It’s that important?” Viviana asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, it kind of is.”

There wasn’t just the matter of keeping the peace between the men who picked up the drugs, but also the gang that would be looking for their product. Like Anton said, the less time it was in his hands, the better.

Then, he had another thought and winced internally about it. “I’ll probably have to stay a little while, also,” Anton added quieter.

“Why?”

“The guys will want to celebrate.”

As ridiculous as it was, they’d want to see Anton there celebrating as well. He’d been trying hard to keep his promise to his wife of being home more often and keeping the Bratva business as his day job. That wasn’t exactly realistic, and Viviana knew that because sometimes shit like this came up. Still, Anton felt like crap over it.

“I’m sorry, Vine. I won’t be partying, just a drink or two to show face.”

Viviana still didn’t look pleased. “Fine, whatever.”

Anton went back to the phone, frowning. “Yeah, Boris, I’ll be there in twenty or so.”

“Gotcha, Boss.”

With the phone call ended, Anton went about gathering something appropriate for him to wear at the club, tossing his toothbrush back into the bathroom in the process. Viviana stayed silent while he pulled on a pair of dark slacks and a white dress shirt. Then, he dropped a kiss to his wife’s forehead and turned to leave.

“Nothing bad, right?” Viviana asked quietly from behind him.

“Nothing dangerous for me,” Anton replied. “Just business I have to handle because it’s me. I’ll be back in a couple of hours at the most, baby.”

“Thanks for putting Demyan to bed.”

Anton smiled. “Always.”

“Be here to wake him up in the morning, too, Anton.”

Anton made it to the club in decent time. Parking his car around the back, he called in to the bar for one of the servers to let him in through the rear exit. Natalie was the server who greeted him on the other side of the door with wave.

“Hey, Boss.”

Anton held back his frown. Where did that come from? “Just Anton, Natalie.”

“Sure,” the girl drawled with a smile. “I let the guys up into the office. They were pretty insistent about it.”

“That’s fine.”

Despite the club only being open for a short while, Anton could tell walking through the main floor that they were already at their fire code limit for the number of bodies inside the building. It wasn’t unusual, and more often than not, the club could handle another fifty people above the limit before complaints were made, but he wasn’t comfortable with it tonight. The last thing he needed was the cops showing up.

“Natalie, go to the front and let security know they’re to refuse entrance until some people clear out.”

“Not a problem, Anton.”

In his office, Anton found more men than he expected to. Boris, Viktor, one of their associates who Anton suspected had been involved in the run in with the gang, Erik, Ivan, and Rory.

“Jesus, are we having a party, or what?” Anton asked, closing his office door.

“Already here,” Rory said, fiddling with his phone. “Keeping an eye on Jen, Boss.”

Ivan jerked his thumb in Erik’s direction. “Dumbass wanted a drink.”

“Fuck you,” Erik replied blithely. “You’d need one, too.”

“Issues I need to know about?” Anton asked his old friend.

“Not unless they involve my wife,” Erik said.

Ah, yeah. Anton chose to stay away from that nonsense.

Ivan, on the other hand, did not. “That’s what you get for marrying someone half your age.”

Erik rested back to the couch with a scowl.

“All right,” Anton said, turning to Boris. “Where is it?”

Boris pulled a flat, cellophane wrapped brick from an inside pocket of his coat and tossed it to Anton’s desk with a thump.

Anton was positive he’d been told twenty bricks earlier. “And the rest?”

“In Viktor’s trunk. I didn’t think you’d want it inside the club tonight,” Boris explained.

Anton nodded. His men knew him well. “No, you’re right. I don’t. Get this out of here as soon as we’re done, also, to be safe.”

There was a small pocketknife in the desk Anton pulled out. Flicking open the blade, he cut a small line on the side of the brick. Shaking the rectangular package, yellowish-grey crystalline white power spilled to the table. Odorless, a small bit of the power on the tip of his pocket knife all but disappeared in a glass of water.

Instantly, Anton knew this wasn’t his drug of choice to handle and sell.

But just to be sure, he wet his pinky at the tip, dabbed at the powder, and slid the substance along his tongue. If it were cocaine, it would have created a numbing sensation, being the natural anesthetic-like drug coke was. This powder, however, simply tasted bitter and ill. Anton wanted it off his tongue and out of his mouth.

Turning to Ivan, he waved for the drink in the man’s hand. “Give me that.”

“Not blow?” Ivan asked while Anton downed the glass of vodka. “You know you didn’t need to taste that to know for sure. There’s a dozen meth-heads that would have gladly—”

“Shut up,” Anton said, handing back the glass. “It’s methamphetamine. Of course it is. The gangbangers around here seem to have a problem fucking around with crack or this shit, and I don’t want it on my streets. They must enjoy the risk of blowing themselves up to make speed. Fuck that leaves an awful taste in the mouth.”

“Meth is cheap and fast to produce,” Viktor put in. “It’s more addictive than most of the higher end product on the streets right now.”

“And dangerous,” Anton replied. “Which is why we don’t produce it.”

“You enjoyed speed once or twice, Boss,” Erik pointed out from the couch.

“I enjoyed dropping it, sure,” Anton replied. “You wouldn’t catch me cooking in a meth lab to make it, though.”

“You know,” Ivan said, leering, “… they say this is better to fuck on than cocaine.”

Anton scoffed under his breath. “Yeah, I’d have to respectfully disagree. There’s nothing like fucking on coke. But I’m not in the mood to talk about my previous exploits.”

There was nothing like fucking sober and being able to remember the next morning, either, but Anton didn’t bother to mention that.

Done with the direction the conversation had taken, Anton turned to his brigadiers. “Which one of you has boys able to get rid of twenty bricks of this within a couple of days?”

Viktor stayed quiet while Boris raised a hand. “Me, Boss. Well, they’ve got the contacts to get it into the right place, given we don’t usually deal in this.”

Yeah, that was exactly the problem.

“Work for you to have Boris’s guys handling it, Viktor?” Anton asked.

Viktor shrugged. “Sure.”

“Forty percent to Boris for handling it. Sixty to Viktor for getting it. I want ten from both of your cut because it’s in my territory. Simple math, make it work. I want my cash by the end of the month, and it’s not a part of your regular tribute.” Anton turned to the young kid, maybe only twenty-two, who’d stayed silent in the corner. “And you, who are you?”

“Joshua,” the boy mumbled. “One of Viktor’s boys.”

Yes, Anton figured that. Every brigadier essentially controlled a brigade of men who ran the streets, handled the products, and paid their captain. If they were lucky, quick, and smart, they could move up the ranks. It wasn’t easy, it often took a long while to get off the streets, but it happened if the man showed potential.