Page 11 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER EIGHT

MAXIM

T he water scalded my shoulders, steam curling around my face and fogging up the glass walls of the shower. I braced my palms against the tiled wall, eyes shut, letting the pounding stream drum against the back of my neck like it could wash away the thoughts stuck on a loop in my skull.

Three days.

Three fucking days since the crash.

Since I almost lost him.

We’d tracked the car. Found it in a junkyard. Burned out, stripped clean. The license plate led us nowhere. It belonged to a man who’d been dead for six months. Dead men didn’t drive cars.

I slammed my fist against the tile, water splashing up from the impact.

No lead on the chief. No names. No faces. Just ghosts and red tape and too many goddamn possibilities.

And through it all, Wren was still planning to return to work like nothing had happened. Still talking about how he didn’t want to be “cooped up” or “hovered over,” like he’d nearly not come home to me. But I had to choose my words carefully since he’d accused me of treating him like a child.

Fuck, loving someone is hard.

I wanted to forbid him from setting foot outside. Wanted to drag him back into bed and keep him there until every threat was buried six feet under. But I couldn’t.

Because if I told him the truth—really told him—he could walk away. If he walked away from me, I’d have no way to protect him at all.

I tilted my face into the stream, letting the heat burn away the edge of the panic curling low in my gut.

A knock sounded on the door.

“You decent?” Wren asked.

I grunted.

The door creaked open, and a second later, he poked his head in, grinning. He was clueless to my turmoil. His curls were damp from his shower, and he was wearing a soft, thin tank top that showed off his tight little nipples and a pair of shorts that clung to his thighs like sin.

He looked edible. And the best part, he was fucking oblivious half the time how sexy he was.

He stepped inside fully, tablet in hand, and plopped down on the closed lid of the toilet like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Okay, don’t hate me.” He tapped at the screen. “But I have some questions about your birthday.”

I didn’t need to look at him to know he was biting his lip.

I let out a quiet laugh, turning slightly so the spray hit my back. “Can this wait? I’m taking a shower.”

“It absolutely can’t. Every time I ask you, you change the subject or lock yourself in your office. This way you can’t leave, and I get to ogle you shamelessly. ”

“Slut. Don’t make me drag you in here with me and show you what I do to boys like you.”

“Boys like me?” he screeched. “There’d better be only one boy like me, Maxim Morozov!”

I laughed. He had the power to make me so furious and then to change my mood just like that.

“There could only ever be one you, kroshka.” I swiped the water from my eyes. He was beaming with happiness.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“What?”

“Kroshka? That word you always call me.”

“It means little monster.”

“Oh.”

He sounded disappointed, and I couldn’t take it, even though I initially wanted to poke fun at his question.

“It means…” I sighed, softening. “It means something small and sweet. Literally crumb or cupcake, but in this context, sweetheart.”

Wren blinked at me, his expression shifting. “What about the other one? Sol —I can’t say it.”

“Solnyshko. That one means little sun. Because that’s what you are to me. Warm. Bright. The center of everything. The light in my dark world.”

Wren ducked his head, a tiny scoff slipping out. “That’s… kinda cheesy.”

But his voice betrayed him—soft, touched—and I caught the slight curl of a smile he tried to hide. He could downplay it all he wanted. I still heard the happiness.

“How about I stop using them, then?”

“No!” he said quickly.

I chuckled. “Thought so.”

“We’re straying from the topic. Now tell me, what do you want for your birthday?”

“I don’t want anything. ”

“Liar,” he said. “Everyone wants something. Even you.”

He kicked off one of his house slippers, pulling that knee up to his chest, tablet resting on it. “I already have everything I want, solnyshko.”

“You’re really making this tough for me, babe!”

Babe.

The word hit me like a sucker punch. My stomach flipped, caught somewhere between a laugh and a gasp.

No one had ever called me that. I should’ve hated it.

Babe sounded cheap, like something someone said to every warm body in their bed to keep from slipping up on a name.

But from Wren’s lips, it didn’t feel borrowed or lazy.

It felt real.

Like he’d meant it just for me.

“How so?” I feigned indifference while my heart betrayed me, thudding against my ribs like it knew better. “Nothing is the easiest gift to give someone. If not, then I won’t say no to a blow job.”

He groaned. “How boring! I give you blow jobs all the time. This has to be special.”

“But your blow jobs are special because they are from you.”

“Stop making me blush. I came in here to stand on business!”

“You’re doing an awful lot of sitting down for someone who is supposed to be standing on business.”

“Ugh.” He let out a frustrated breath. “There’s no reasoning with you sometimes.”

I shook my head, the corners of my mouth twitching despite myself. He did this more than he realized. Slipped into the bathroom while I showered, like it was a second living room. Like my space was his by default. And I let him. Every time.

Because I liked it too. I liked knowing he wanted to be close to me, even in the smallest ways. He wasn’t the only one. If I didn’t have him in my sight for some time, I worried where he was, what he was doing, and with whom.

“I’m being honest.”

He shifted, tucking his leg underneath his ass and adjusting the tablet. “Okay, but seriously, what about a cake? Any flavors off-limits?”

“Wren—”

“Do not say you don’t want cake, Maxim. That is blasphemy. Besides, Jess already said she would bake the cake for the party.”

“Party? You didn’t mention a party.”

“Of course a party. Your birthday party.”

“Seriously, Wren, you don’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“Please, I want to.” He clutched the tablet to his chest. “This is the first time I’ve been excited to celebrate a birthday since my twelfth when my dad told me he would be there but he never showed up. I’ve not seen him since.”

His voice had gone so soft I almost missed his words. My stomach twisted at his tone, coated heavily with pain.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday since then?”

He shook his head. “Now you see why this is important to me.”

How could I deny him? If he’d wanted to throw me a birthday party that lasted the entire week, I would have gone with it. And still that wouldn’t make up for the horrific thing I’d done.

“Wren, you can throw me a party and even buy me a cake. I promise I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

I’d force myself to if it were the last thing I did.

“Any idea what kind of cake you want?”

“I’m fine with anything you choose, just no chocolate.”

“Boo. You’re no fun. ”

“Jess will be fun enough for me and you,” I said quietly.

He laughed, and I caught his smile in the mirror—the way his lashes fluttered just a bit before he looked back down at the screen. Good, he was no longer sad.

This was what I couldn’t lose.

This boy with his sweet smile who could sit inches from danger and not suspect a thing.

I had to find the chief. I had to end this. Before another car crash resulted in a body bag.

But for now, I focused on the sound of his voice, the little jokes, the rapid-fire questions about party decorations and guest lists.

He was planning a birthday like we were normal.

Like we were safe.

Thankfully, more than half the names on the list happened to be bodyguards.

“Hey, Wren.”

“Huh?” He snapped his head up.

“Why don’t you forget about the party for a bit and join me?”

“I already showered.”

“Who said anything about a shower?”

His gaze dropped to where I was stroking my semihard cock. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell slightly open. “If you answer my last question, then sure.”

“Shoot.” I winced. Bad choice of words.

“Is there any family you would like to invite?”

I sucked in a deep breath. Definitely not a topic I wanted to follow up on. My living family members were not people he wanted to meet. I’d cut them out of my life for a reason.

“Sure, my cousin you met at the salon.”

“Oh yes, of course! I have to invite Vova.”

“Wren.”

“Hmm? ”

“I need you.”

He chewed on his bottom lip a little, then jumped to his feet, tossing the tablet onto the bathroom mat. His shirt went over his head, and his shorts and panties dropped to the floor. I loved that he wore them all the time now.

He kicked them away, and I held the door open for him. He dove in. I snapped it shut and pounced on him, lips locked, hoisting him up in my arms, his legs wrapped around my waist.

“Can I be honest?” he said against my lips.

“Of course.”

“I was hoping for this when I came in. I knew quite well you could see my nipples through that top.”

“No wonder your boss is smitten with you,” I teased. “Such a horny little slut, you are.”

“Only for you.”

I groaned. “I fucking love how you’re always ready to be fucked.”

“Can’t help it. My boyfriend’s really hot. Now, please put your dick inside me, Mr. Morozov.”

“Such a filthy mouth.” I trailed kisses down his jawline to the hollow of his throat.

His fingers twisted in my wet hair, pulling me closer.

He squirmed against me, damp skin sliding with a delightful friction.

I hoisted him higher, grabbing his ass with one hand while with the other grabbing the silicone-based lube, which was always kept in the shower niche.

I devoured his mouth all while uncapping the bottle and lubing my dick.

“Hang on tight.” I bit his bottom lip. “This is going to be hard and fast, but you can handle it, can’t you, kroshka?”

“Yes!” he hissed. “I can take everything you give me.”