Hi dear all, so as promised I am updating this story and here comes a new chapter with the bike racing and what else? Who knows..not going to say much about it now.
I really hope you'll enjoy it, so let me know what you think: I LOVE to read your comments and messages and sorry if I can't reply every one, but I sure read them all and smile and comment them in my head :-) Thank you dear all!
Dedicated to all of you and in particular to Kumiona36 as a THANK YOU for reading and commenting and voting my stories! Hope you'll like this chapter!
On the right an amazing banner that Klovis made for me: I love it darl! xox
About the music, I think it perfectly suits the racing scene, don't you think so? Ok, I also totally love that movie.
Now, SHOUT-OUTS for NEW STORIES and AUTHORS: let's CHECK THEM OUT!
1) bee_24xox with a new story called "HELP ME TO LOVE AGAIN" !!!
2) LEAMS2 with a psychological fantasy-horror "LUCIUS' SHADOW" !!!
3) CallMeViki: ALL of her STORIES, as she has many of them !!!
4) VirginiaKenney: ALL of her STORIES, as she's many great ideas !!!
And now, enjoy!
ANATOLY POV
“I race to win. If I am on the bike or in a car it will always be the same” by Valentino Rossi
The alarm woke me up like a blast and I groaned staring at the ceiling a moment and cursing everything at how early it was. Yeah, I wasn’t exactly a morning person and for crying out loud, I dare you to be a damn chirpy and cheerful person at freaking five in the morning. Dima was the same; he didn’t function very well in the morning, but he was another story. Another groan followed another curse in Russian, and my body rolled a bit in the bed, but as soon as my brain connected and remembered the reason for getting up this damn early on Sunday, I sprang up and rushed to the bathroom for a record-time shower. In less than ten minutes I was ready and set: got all of my gears and protections stuffed in a bag and helmet hooked at my arm. Damn, my body was already trembling at the idea and my blood already tickled me.
I tried to repress the excitement by slowly walking the stairs, avoiding in this way to wake my family up; but screw it. The state of it was so high that I probably looked like a junkie moron. The house was really quiet at this time and the kitchen was empty; on the main table were a note and a box.
“Tolya sweetie, I made something to eat for you and Oleg. Please, be careful with your motorcycle. Love, mum and dad.”
I shook my head and sighed. Did she think I was ten years old? I knew only mum wrote that message, as dad wasn’t the type of man to entertain in such sentimental sappy stuff, but well, why complaining? Wasn’t something I terribly missed in these past years, but never admitted? Another long sigh and then my body almost jumped out of my skin as that creepy bastard snaked in the kitchen in ninja style, approaching me and looking perfectly fine as if waking up this freaking early on Sunday was the most normal thing. But probably he woke up early every morning. Yeah, old geezers always wake up early.
“You scared me, creepy ninja.” I hissed snatching the note and shoving it in my jeans pocket. There was no need to look like a mama-boy right in front of him, but he cracked a small and rather dark smirk and then assessed me with his usual cryptic stare.
“I already saw the note, no need to hide it from me. It is good your family and you are this close; there is nothing to be shy about.”
How the hell did he always manage to catch everything and read into me? Damn, don’t tell me that idiot of my brother was right about Jedi powers, right? Great, here we go. Babbling craps like my twin…ahh…better get a move.
“I wasn’t hiding it.” I lied and he simply arched one brow and then turned his back to me. “Hey, I was talking to you.”
“And I heard you, Anatoly. My ears function perfectly.” He walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed a thermos. “We should move now, if you are ready; or do you prefer drink coffee here?” Oleg looked back at me and showed the thermos.
“I can drink it later; I’m not that old to desperately need a coffee to work in the morning.”
“I can tell that.” We exchanged a silent glance, me eyeing him confused, not understanding what he meant. “Your bratty sarcasm is already wide awake and petulant.” He smirked again in that evil and damn annoying way and then walked out of kitchen, leaving me there fuming for having not the time to counter debate.
Annoying bastard!
Annoying, creepy bastard that looked freaking hot as first thing in the morning, wearing dark jeans, military boots and a simple Ducati leather jacket. I rolled my eyes at how pathetic that was of me and smacked my head against the fridge; there, stop it now and for good. So I grabbed the box mum made for us and followed him downstairs where he had already prepared everything. No way he had woken up just at five.
“When did you actually get up? You got everything ready. You could have asked me; I know how to fix a bike on the cart.”
“At four thirty.” That was his only answer and a silent snort left my mouth, for then walking to my dad’s BMW X6 to put my bag in the back. “Mr. Denisov kindly let me use his car, as mine is probably not adequate to tow a truck with two bikes.”
I went to say something smart, but my mouth shut up as soon as my eyes landed first on his car parked at the end of the garage, a damn amazing blue Dodge Viper with the two classical white parallel stripes. This man here sure enjoyed speed; and then my eyes shifted to his bike, almost popping out and drooling, that if eyes could effectively drool. Shit, she was such a babe..a red babe. And a Ducati; I had a soft spot for that bike because both of my heroes raced on her, and well, sure King Carl Fogarty kicked ass on that one. Oleg owned a damn amazing and badass Superbike Ducati 1199 Panigale R, and he sure knew how to bring the best out of that babe. There was no freaking reason to feel ashamed in saying that my mouth watered at the sight of it and my hand rubbed my chin just in case, as I felt like drooling in front of that red view. Yeah, mine was another great dark babe; actually, we were going to kick his ass today. I smirked and shot him a smug glare.
“So it’s true what they say about old geezers right?” Oleg gave me an emotionless look and then took a step toward me, but I stood there.
“What is it now, Anatoly?” He asked with calm and impassive voice and damn, how can someone look so hot at five in the morning? Oh for crying out loud, drop it, idiot.
“They say that old geezers don’t need to sleep a lot, so it’s right.” I sniggered.
Oleg said nothing and then chuckled, but it sure wasn’t because he found what I said amusing, as it sounded completely dry.
“You know Anatoly? There is a proverb saying that who sleeps much, learns little.”
“You..” I growled while standing in front of him and then I rolled my eyes and snorted. “You can actually make a joke. That’s quite the revelation. Never thought you had some sense of humor..”
“Everybody has some sense of humor.” He said in a matter of fact tone.
“You never get my jokes.”
“Your jokes are not amusing; they are immature and sarcastic.” What was with him today? He was more chatty than usual. Had he eaten something weird?
“What’s up with you? You are actually talking normally to me.”
“I always talk normally to you.”
“Bullshit.”
He ignored that and went to check the truck and see if the bikes were steady and safe; then he gave me a meaningful look and so I opened the door of the garage and sat in the car. Of course the bastard was the one driving, no doubts about that. Oh well, whatever. We left the house and drove to where the circuit was and the ride was somehow too quiet for me, so I tried to provoke some little conversation, but it didn’t work. I snorted and just sat there staring out of the window, thinking about how everything changed in a few months and at how I was relieved the gang had actually given up on me. Every single day in summer had been spent waiting and almost fearing a reaction from them and from the boss; he was such a crazy dude that nobody ever guessed what the hell went around his mind. Drugs sure didn’t help his madness and probably blasted to even more mental levels. I wasn’t afraid of having to face them once more; I’d give them back something for their good-bye treatment, but as pathetic as it might sound, what scared me was the idea of them threatening my family.
While considering that thought, I quickly peered at Oleg and shook my head; there was no way this mercenary here would allow anyone threatening my family as nothing. He didn’t say a word about what happened with that teacher, but shit, I could just imagine what treatment he reserved for that piece of garbage. Yeah, he was an annoying and impassive creep, sure, but he was loyal to dad and knew how to deal with such business. But nonetheless this summer I was expecting something every single day and the paranoia was about to drive me nuts; then finally time passed and nothing moved, which meant it was all forgotten.
Well, I damn hoped so. I really did.
I shook more my head, as if wanting to chase away those depressing and pitiable thoughts and cursed at myself. Be a man, for crying out loud. Square your balls and show some guts.
“What is it, Anatoly?” His calm voice startled me as I was lost in my thoughts, and so my eyes narrowed at him and my lips snorted.
“Do you enjoy giving me the creeps?” I smartly asked and in all answer he kept silent. “What is it what, Oleg?” I said his name on purpose and this time he quickly glanced at me for then getting his attention back to the road.
“You looked at me while shaking your head and muttering something. Is everything ok?”
“I did not do that.” I barked, crossing my arms in front of me and rolling my eyes. Darn it, I did it, right? Why I had to be such a moron? Why? Tell me why and I’ll let you have a ride with me on my black babe. Silence stretched between us, as usual, and then I let go of a soundless exhale and spoke. “I was thinking about the gang.”
“The leader has left New York for a while; I believe he had some complications to avoid.”
“How do you even know that? Right, why do I even feel surprised? It’s pointless asking, I suppose. Well, no big surprise. He is a lunatic madman and I’m sure many would like to have his head on a plate.”
“Are you worried they might contact you again?” He asked immediately going home base. My eyes closed a moment at his words as my fists clenched. I hated to admit weaknesses, because I had already exposed my side quite a lot. “Anatoly, you do not need to worry. Your family is there for you and Mr. Denisov, as you know, is a strong and determinate man nobody should mess with.” He was right about dad; he could be pretty scary, too. “And you know I would do anything for your family; if you need anything, you just have to ask.”
I said nothing, because nothing seemed appropriate to be voiced; sure I couldn’t sound sappy and all emotional, ‘cause I was a guy, but truth be told, his words calmed down every little worry it might have lingered in me. The bizarre fact was that I trusted this man; damn right, I trusted Oleg and knew he would not fail me, even if for him it was just following duties. My gazed slipped to the window and explored more of the waking roads and surrounding, the sun slowly setting up in the sky. More silence passed between us and again, it didn’t feel uncomfortable, but there was still this rebellious side of me that needed to take a stance.
“I’m bored.” I deadpanned.
“There is a radio and CD player to entertain yourself.” That was his prompt and arid answer; not a surprise, but still irritating.
“Shouldn’t you entertain me a bit? Isn’t that part of your duties?”
He sighed and turned the radio on, clearly ignoring me, but before I had the time to fire something else out, he spoke first.
“I am off-duty today, Anatoly. And I do not remember having the voice “entertain an immature punk” in the list of my duties.” Damn, so the bastard here could use sarcasm, too. But something else registered in my mind. He said he was off-duty. My head snapped at him and in that moment he shot me a quick glare, so our eyes met. His were so dark and penetrating and one had a long, pale scar. I wanted to ask him about that, but I knew he wasn’t going to talk about it right now.
“So no duties, today? Only fun and pleasure?” I ventured and again he flashed an unreadable look.
“Yes, no duties today. Only fun and allowed pleasure.” He paused for a split of second on me again and then turned his eyes to the road. What was that suppose to mean? This man here sure never had any forbidden pleasure, as Oleg was way too stiff and righteous; probably even the meaning of forbidden was unknown to him. Ha, whatever. I stretched my arms in front of me and yawned aloud.
“I can live with that.” I said and then changed music, selecting a different CD, gusting Nirvana in our ears.
We reached the place and Oleg showed the pass to drive to the back of the paddocks where to leave our bikes. Wow! This circuit was amazing and not giving a rat ass how that would look immature, I ran outside and felt almost getting hard at the sight of it. Fuck. It was gigantic and at the centre it had the place for motocross.
“The race in the afternoon is for young riders into motocross, if you want my friend can procure us a couple of passes to stay over and watch it.” Oleg explained handing me my bag.
“That’d be cool.” He nodded and then turned around.
“Give me a hand with the bikes and then let’s get started. Let us see how this old geezer can teach you something.”
“You wish.” I fired back and saw a man approaching him, clasping his shoulder, with messy light brown hair and hyper green eyes; he looked possessed, if you asked me, but it was clear they knew each other.
“Oleg my man, so you satisfied with everything?”
“Yes, thank you Dave.” His voice sounded always harder whenever he spoke English; even though he mastered that language perfectly, the accent was still there and very strong.
I had a doubt he couldn’t give a shit about that and probably kept it for the purpose of sounding even more intimidating. Yeah, that could be. Dima as well had a bit of an accent, but that was due to his laziness, while the Mighty Sasha had none. I was more or less like my friend and actually I probably was the one with stronger New York accent.
“So, is that the famous Anatoly you told me about?” The possessed guy walked to me and stretched his hand out. “Hey there pal, name’s Dave and I heard you know how to ride a bike at neck-breaking speed.”
“Anatoly here and you can bet it; I sure know how to take my baby in the right way.”
He burst out laughing and shook my hand almost detaching my arm from the shoulder and I wondered what was with hyper people. Did they have to stick to me? But this guy here was a different sort of hyper man; it was as if he could never sit still for a second, as if he lived for the adrenaline, if you know what I mean.
“We are going to see the fireworks today then. Oleg is a badass on his Ducati.”
I shifted my eyes on him, right now about to move his bike from the truck, and he stopped a moment to look at me.
“Yeah, I know that.” I answered still keeping my eyes on him. Damn, no need to deny how exciting was to be on a bike while he leaned down, our knees scratching the asphalt, almost along with our elbows, the tyres aggressively attacking the road, the wind crushing on us, the speed pumping my blood at its maximum. Yeah, that bastard could be quite the badass.
I walked over there and helped in pulling down my Ninja, for then setting them both on the racks, checking the tyres and such. We had to change them, because one thing was to use normal ones to drive around the city and a complete different story was riding in a circuit. Shit was real there. Oleg had everything planned and inside our paddock we had the change of tyres and tyres warmer, so we proceeded in removing the normal ones and replace them with the slicks. Then I went to change and yeah, the one piece leather suit wasn’t always the most comfortable one at first, because it was very tight and clung at your body literally like a second skin, and the fact it was armored made it even less comfortable, but hey, when you are out there reaching over 250Km/h, well, you sure want to be safe and protected, that’s why the suit was specially armored on the back, knees and elbows; I had to soften it a bit, doing exactly what my other hero, Valentino Rossi, always did and after that it felt much more nicer.
Dave was already warming the tyres up and winked at me, patting the seat, which had been switched to single; I was glad though to see that Oleg had left his normal, because there was a chance to ride behind him then. Blood suddenly shot boiling in my veins and I shifted on my feet, moving a bit around casually exchanging a few comments with that dude. He said he was into racing, but not today, since he fell down last week and today his shoulder better take it easy; I noticed before how he moved it carefully, so that was the explanation.
“So you are Yevgeny Denisov’s son, right?” I rolled my eyes at those words, because seriously, why everyone had to refer to me like that?
“Yeah, and Dmitri Denisov’s twin brother.” I smugly snorted, making him chuckle.
“I can tell you are quite the fire-cracker, ha? I bet we are going to have fun today. Oleg is quite the challenge, right?” He checked the tyres and nodded. “They seem fine to me. What you think man?”
I turned my head and fuck, I had to gulp down. That impassive bastard was wearing a black and red one piece suit and damn it, even though it was annoying to admit it, he looked hot in that. I had no idea how his massive and burly body could fit in there, but fuck, I was gay and that suit left almost nothing to imagination; plus, leather with that huge beast? Oh what the hell was I thinking about? He gave me a severe look and I snapped my face away, cursing at how I had basically ranked his body looking probably like a starving dog. God, what was wrong with me? Yeah, the old geezer was hot and shit, I knew he wasn’t that old, and damn him and his ripped body. Oh great, what was I? A dumb teenager under a hormone storm? Get a grip, for crying out loud.
Are you here to race or what? Right, I was here to ride my babe…
“Oh fuck.” I hissed as the word “riding” suddenly took another form in my head.
Oleg eyed me without changing expression and the stopped right in front of me.
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah, why?” I almost snapped and then tried to ease down by making some smart remarks. “How do you even fit in there?”
He said nothing and we both heard Dave sniggering, looking at us with an amused expression and flashed eyes. Was he on something? Alright, I knew he wasn’t, but you got what I mean.
“He’s quite a handful, right?” Oleg looked at him and then went to check his bike; his friend winked at me and patted my shoulder. “What are the rules for today?” I looked at him confused. “Who goes first?” He answered.
“We race together at first and then we will see.” Oleg answered for me and I smirked finally feeling the excitement filling me completely. He noticed that and sort of smirked, for then pointing my helmet. “Get ready.” He ordered and for once I could care less he had ordered me around. I just wanted to be on my bike.
As he said before, today he was off-duty. Today it was just us and our bikes; today I was only Anatoly Denisov and he knew it.
We exchanged a look, as our bikes, my Ninja and his Ducati, roared feeling our adrenaline; I balanced on the tips of my boots and rolled back a moment to roll forward, grabbing the throttles and feeling my leather gloves stretching in the grip, my heart beginning to accelerate pace, as my blood bit after bit propelled faster, shooting the adrenaline all over my system. I smirked behind the helmet and I believed he did the same. Dave was at the side of the start line, in the safety of his cage and showed us a chronometer; yeah, you can bet your ass that Oleg and I were going to race right now and I would beat him.
Another look and then we both settled on the asphalt in front of us; we saw the flag blurring in the air, the bikes shifted into first gear, I pulled my feet off the ground right on the foot pegs, while I released the clutch and in an instant, my hand rolled the throttle back and my babe sprang forward; I let out a loud and crazed laughed as speed picked up and the surrounding blurred faster and faster. As we reached the first turn, I leaned on the right for cornering and felt higher excitement blasting in my system.
I loved to race and to ride my Kawasaki Ninja.
I fucking loved it!
I shifted gears as I accelerated and it was just me and my bike; it wasn’t easy to describe what went through me while racing, but it was as if feeling so alive that it made me almost burst out of my skin, as if my skin was confining me and I needed more room. It was fucking incredible. The bike leaned on the left as we entered the other corner and slowing down, but not much, the tyres grazed the curb and my knee and elbow scratched the asphalt. My eyes darted at the side seeing Oleg taking over me and pulling straight faster than I did; he shifted gear and in no time he was racing in front of me. God, I love it. My wrist turned more and so speed burst out as I raced after him. We kept this crazy and at the limit pace for the entire lap, until I saw how he burnt me at the end, flying in front of me and crossing the line first.
A laugh mixed with adrenaline and will of kicking ass left my mouth and in no time I was over taking him; it wasn’t easy though, because the bastard knew how to close all the freaking open doors and it wasn’t easy to exploit the curbs with him. Damn it…we leaned first right and then left as we passed the chicane, entering a straight section and so I kicked in and my baby roared hungrier for more and I gave it to her. I managed to pass him, but he took over more, until we reached another curve and so he freaking passed there. Shit…this bastard here was amazing on that red beauty.
It wasn’t over though and so I chased him and placed myself in front of him, seeing the finish line and this time crossing it first, but for just a matter of a breath. We kept racing for more laps and at the end we stopped as the bikes were thirsty. We pulled over the pit-lane and while Dave refueled my Ninja and his Ducati, I pulled my helmet away to take a fresh breath of air.
“Anatoly man, you’re a pro out there.” He patted my thigh and nodded with evident admiration. “Why haven’t you taken him here earlier?”
“He broke his arm in an accident, so he had to heal first.” When Oleg mentioned that, something moved on his impassive and hard face.
“Well, he’s giving you quite the job out there, isn’t it Oleg?” He shot me a quick glance and then cracked what was one of the most intimidating but damn arousing smirks. Fuck. I gulped down, but kept staring at him, not wanting to let go, as there was no way I would let my eyes go down and he sort of chuckled. “Yes, Anatoly can be quite the challenge sometimes.”
His refueling was complete and so he shoved the helmet back and slowly rode out of the pit-lane, to reach the circuit and sped up like hell. I groaned annoyed and then followed suit. Let’s see how this immature punk here could be quite the challenge.
OLEG POV
I sped up and knew Anatoly would be behind me in a matter of a second; my hand rolled back the throttle and my bike picked more speed, as everything was left behind. Racing with a bike and with cars, but more with motorcycles, was one of the few things that had the power to excite me and set my blood in some burning frenzy state. My nature was not inclined to emotions and it was not only because of my past in the Army and in that special group, but because it was how I was. And that was perfect for me, since taking care of someone like Anatoly proved indeed to be a challenge. But I well knew how to deal with it.
He was extremely talented with his bike and it was surprising if considered he learnt that himself; but it usually was pure talent that brought up great champions, and Anatoly might have the right cards for that.
I sped up more and leaned down at the curve, slightly slowing down as I sensed him approaching; I quickly checked as I went back straight and he was there, right behind me. A smirk produced by the adrenaline of the race grew on my lips and my hands gripped the throttles stronger, as we reached the chicane and he tried to take over me. It wasn’t going to happen, because I had in mind to give him quite the lesson for calling me old geezer. It was not something that irritated, as hardly anything really provoked me, but I enjoyed the challenge and Anatoly was one of the best riders I have ever met.
We raced for longer, until I judged better stop it; we were not used to long endurance and however the booked time was about to expire. More persons walked into the paddocks and they were probably getting ready for the afternoon motocross competition; I slowed down and Anatoly picked the signal up at first. I pointed with my head the direction of the pit-lane and he nodded. But first, one last lap. I believe we both smirked and then left everything behind.
“Shit, I’m beat.” He exhaled as he stopped the bike and Dave walked over us.
“You guys are awesome; want to see your time? You’re not gonna believe it.” My friend showed the times and Anatoly widened his eyes almost not believing the numbers.
“That’s what I call kicking ass.” He chuckled and passed a hand in his now flattened hair, as a result of wearing the helmet. He smiled and yes, I could tell he was more and more relaxing down, letting everything behind. It was good in that way and when he mentioned his gang, I knew what preoccupied him, but so far everything was quiet.
I glanced at the times and nodded.
“Not bad.” I simply said and he snorted sending me an annoyed glare.
“Not bad? Maybe not bad for an old geezer like you, but..”
“But this old geezer kicked your ass, if I am not wrong. I won the race.” I said crossing my arms and enjoyed seeing the expression of pure surprise forming on his face. His eyes narrowed and he went to say something, but he simply cursed under his breath and let it go, knowing it was true.
We let Dave take care of the tyres and change them; we needed a shower and this circuit was one of the best equipped and that was the reason I chose it; the safety features were among the best and so the other facilities. There was no way I would let Anatoly ride at almost 186 mph in a structure that did not provide the best and highest safety; racing was already dangerous and I knew Mr. and Mrs. Denisov entrusted me their son and that was a great honor.
I stripped from my suit and felt eyes on me, so when I looked at my side, he was staring me and when he caught my stare, his face snapped away. My glance indulged a moment on the feature of his body; he turned around and went to remove the suit and the muscles of his back stretched and flexed in the motion of it, the tattoo on his neck standing out. Both of us were drenched in sweat and so I could see it roll down from his hair, down from his neck, down from his back. Something agitated in me and I immediately repressed it.
This was wrong; this was over the limit.
My eyes closed for a fraction of a second and then my mind and body regained the necessary calm and composure; we both completely stripped naked and walked to the showers. I felt again eyes on me and shifted my gaze to his.
“What is it?” I asked, assessing him once more with another quick look and entering the small shower. My self control was in charge of everything at the moment and I let it.
“Nothing.” He muttered with a confused expression and then turned the water on, cursing aloud. “Oh fuck. Damn it.”
“Anatoly, what is it?” I arched my brows as he cursed more and snorted.
“Nothing, I’m telling you. Not a freaking thing.” He sounded nervous and irritated, but I let it pass and showered, feeling the warm water washing away whatever had crossed my mind as my eyes caught sight of his naked and fit body.
“Do you want to stay and watch the competition?” I asked and he took a moment before answering.
“Yeah, that’d be great, but I’m starving.”
“Your mother packed something, if I am correct, and anyway we can eat something here.”
“Are we going home right after the race?” Was his sudden question and yes, we would go home after the competition was over.
“Yes.”
He said nothing to that, but then he closed the water and he stepped in front of my shower cubicle.
“You said you are off-duty today, right?” I studied his face and his stubborn eyeing, as he halted a moment and then quickly glanced away; a nod was my reply and he rolled his eyes. “So, since you’re off-duty and it’s Sunday, why don’t we go somewhere and have a drink?”
“You are still nineteen, Anatoly.” I reminded him, just in the purpose to provoke him, as I knew how much it triggered his temper whenever he felt treated like a kid.
“Damn annoying bastard..you’re so…”
“Well then, but no alcohol then and I choose the place.” It was better to let him have a little fun, so then he would quiet down his bratty side. His head tilted up and he sort of smiled, but of course he did not want to give me the satisfaction of seeing that. As I said: immature child. “Get ready then.” I ordered and he grunted before leaving.
We ate what Mrs. Denisov generously made for us and since us both were still rather hungry, we stopped with my friend at the bar of the circuit and got something else. Anatoly attracted quite the attention, especially for the way he dressed up: jeans with holes, combat boots over them, his usual punk hair style, the tattoo on the neck standing out rather well visible, earrings, and a black leather jacket with spikes and chains. Dave was impressed by his skills and kept talking to him, so I let them chat and I relaxed down watching the competition. I was not much into motocross, but some guys seemed fairly capable.
Anatoly glanced at me and faked a yawn, meaning this was boring him. I shot him a severe stare and he rolled his eyes. But yes, this was not very entertaining.
“Dave, we leave now. If you want to join us, we go drink something and maybe have dinner.” My friend shook his head and smiled.
“Thanks my man, but my wife is waiting for me at home and I need to babysit tonight, as she has a night shift in the hospital.” He shook my hand and smiled more. “Come here more, it was fun today and next time,” his eyes moved to Anatoly. “Next time we’ll race together, how does that sound?”
“Sounds cool. It was nice to meet you.” They exchange a lock of hands and my friend chuckled.
“Gotta say it, kiddo. I love your hairstyle.” I sighed as Anatoly’s face lit up and then shot me a cocky smirk.
“See? It’s not bratty and punk.” I ignored that and greeted my friends.
“Keep in touch, Dave. Give my regards to your wife.”
We walked to the back of the paddock and after fixing the bikes at the truck, I drove back to New York, as I was not going to park Mr. Denisov BMW and two bikes outside a bar. When we almost reached his residence, he almost sprang up in what was evident irritation, thinking I had changed my mind without saying a word. That was not my style, so I stopped him before letting his sarcasm have air.
“We leave your father’s car and the bikes here. We can take my car or ride my bike.” I made clear and he calmed down at first. Anatoly was easy to sudden outbursts of temper and it would be better for him to learn control them, because they might be quite a trouble in some occasions, especially if paired to his obstinacy and mulish pride. “Which one you prefer?” I already knew the answer.
“Your Ducati, duh.” He fired out and then cracked his neck, his eyes shining thinking about that. The kid sure loved to race and he might even make it in a career. When the right occasion would present, I would discuss it with Mr. Denisov and see what his opinion on the matter was.
“Very well, then get the helmet and wait here.”
I flicked the starter and felt his arms tighten around me as I shifted into first gear, for then immediately letting go of the clutch and letting my bike spring forward at reasonable speed. He grabbed me harder as I purposely leaned down at the limit, almost letting our knees graze the street and then, after setting the bike straight, I zoomed and heard his adrenaline filled laugh coming from his helmet.
We reached a bar mostly for bikers, but nothing dangerous or dodgy, just a simple place where people sharing the passion for motors and speed met and talked. It had the usual features of blonde and curvy waitresses serving the tables, but as far as I knew, that matter did not concern Anatoly. We sat on a table at the corner and he stood up wanting to go order the drinks.
“You cannot order beer, Anatoly.” I made clear, given his age and he glared at me crossing his arms in front of his chest. I arched my brows and he changed stance.
“And what do you want me to drink? Milk and cocoa? Maybe actually, a lovely cup of tea?”
“I said you cannot order a beer, not that you cannot drink it.” He shut his mouth at once and finally sat down quiet and avoiding my patience to reach its limit. “Wait here and behave.”
“Sir yes sir.” He mocked and I smirked, as he looked away under my glare.
A waitress came back with our orders and she did the obvious and business-like flirting, which seemed to render Anatoly uncomfortable. Not a very shocking surprise, but he really could be quite the child sometimes.
“Can I get you anything else?” She fluttered her eyelashes a few times and smiled showing her teeth, obviously stepping over the personal zone.
“No, thank you.” I spoke with firm voice and she understood the message.
“Fuck, if she wanted to jump you, she could just go for that.” He snorted snatching the bottle of beer and talking a long sip. “For a moment I thought she would strip right in front of us.”
I said nothing and simply drank my soda.
“Are you drinking that for real?”
“I am driving, Anatoly.” I reminded him and he thought about something, lingering his eyes on the scar on my face.
“Can I ask you something? Or will you pin me down if I do?”
“I pinned you down only when you needed a taste of your own medicine.” His eyes flashed at those words, his temper already flaring and about to reach a high level, but I warned him and he shook his head. “What do you want to ask?”
“How did you get that scar?” He meant the one at my eye.
“A grenade exploded not too far from where I stood and the splits hit me.”
“Was it during a mission or something like that?” Curiosity took over annoyance and stubbornness, and he relaxed and made it easier for us both. Yes, I knew how to deal with him and my self control was made of steel, but his constant provocations and attitudes had the power to wear my patience thin.
“Yes.” I simply said, as I was not allowed to say more about that. His face went serious and it was clear he was thinking about something.
“You can’t say more, right?”
“Correct.” I sipped my coke and he gulped the beer down, going to get some fries.
“Does this bother you?” Anatoly suddenly asked, setting his silvery light-blue eyes on me, studying my reaction and expression carefully. I knew what he meant, but I asked however.
“What do you mean with this?” He needed to be more open and ask for what he wanted directly. As a result, he snorted and casted his look away, but I knew it was a momentary reaction, needing time to deal with his obstinacy.
“Does it annoy you spend time with me, given you said you are off-duty, therefore not following any order from my father. Maybe you’d prefer do something else, or whatever the hell..” I couldn’t help the amused smirk at his words. He was such a brat sometimes.
“No, it does not bother me, Anatoly.”
“So, you are not doing it because dad told you so, right?” I sighed and he noticed it, because he pulled back on his chair.
No, it was not an order. It was allowed pleasure.
“Anatoly, I already told you today it is not about duties. I do enjoy riding my bike.” My words left him with more questions, as they did not entirely answer his question, but it was good like that.
ANATOLY POV
I had to know if this was bothering him or not, because damn it, I liked spending time with this bastard here. It was all so incredibly irritating and he was infuriating with his adamant and icy discipline and shit like that, but there was so much unknown about Oleg and yes, sure, go ahead and call me pathetic or whatever the like as I probably deserved it, but I wanted to know more about him. The man was always so hermetic that getting out a piece of information felt like pulling a well rooted tooth out. A freaking pain in the ass, right? But satisfying once the rotten tooth was gone.
And let’s face it. This intimidating and creepy beast was hot, and fuck me, in the shower I risked a major hard-on and I cursed so much when cold water hit me, but it was necessary. This man here was not just huge and had muscles ripping so much that they looked as if made of pulsing rock, the inks covering his massive arms and chest, his back and part of his neck; that wasn’t the only freaking point. This man here was huge and I mean huge in that sense. Got it? His dick looked thick and big even when soft and not hard. How fucking huge would it become once aroused? Oh shit, I needed to seriously stop thinking about this. It was absolutely not normal and way too creepy. Yes, for crying out loud. It was creepy. And weird. And dorky, and mental…whatever the heck you prefer call it.
I almost got turned on by this bastard here, who thought of me nothing more than his boss’s son. And probably an annoyance. So I had to ask and it surprised me when he said he enjoyed the time spent racing. Oleg hadn’t exactly replied my question, but at least I knew it wasn’t a bother, as for sure he had one huge quality, right, aside that part…I snorted and took another sip of beer. Pathetic. So, I was saying, he had one bi..argh…one damn quality. Oleg was not phony.
I stole a look from my bottle and no wonder the waitress from before was ready to jump on his laps if he gave her permission. That bitch, why did she…oh fuck. What the hell was this, Anatoly? No..no..no. Absolutely freaking no. Stop it now and for good. Fuck no. Forget it. Let’s drink over it, yeah, much better. I gulped more beer and groaned when realized it was almost finished. I needed another one and went to stand up and get it, but he stopped me by grabbing my forearm. Oh damn it…I needed another drink. PRONTO!
“I just want another beer.” He scanned me with his imperturbable dark eyes and I felt like a guinea pig, so I set my arm free. “I’m not drunk, if it’s what worries you; I mean, I’m big enough to hold more than a beer without a problem.”
“Very well, but it is the last one.”
“What? And why so?”
“Because I say so and end of the discussion.” The warning was there and not subtle at all, and I knew I had to cave in.
“Fine, whatever, boring old geezer. Can I get you a cup of chamomile?” I mocked.
“You might need one, Anatoly.”
Bastard. I spun on my heels, but he stood up.
“Remember? You cannot order it.”
“Fine.” I sat down and crossed my arms. And then guess what? As soon as he approached the bar a couple of chicks stuck at him like glue. For crying out loud, why every damn woman of this bar had to stick at him? Yes, he was hot, but get over it. I sank in my chair at listening to my own mental rambling. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I hissed punching my head and then stopped as soon as he was back with our drinks. “Made a nice encounter?” I sarcastically asked, for then cursing at myself.
“You mean those two girls?” He smirked and set the beer in front of me. “They asked me about you.” I snapped my eyes at him with a skeptical expression and impossible to tell what was going on in his mind. “Why so surprised?”
“I’m not up for some kinky foursome, if that is your idea.” Yeah, fuck no. No way in hell; I mean, I wouldn’t get it hard with a girl, as I had already experienced how difficult had been for me to have sex with a chick. He shook his head and sighed, piercing me with a very stern glare that made me gulp down. Let’s hope I didn’t overstep another limit.
“Anatoly, you really are an immature brat.”
“The hell?” I shot out, feeling my blood burn and boil.
“I am not into anything of that promiscuous.”
Something began to agitate and go restless in me and I didn’t like it.
“So if it was just a girl it would be fine? Well, no way in hell I’ll wait for you to get laid.”
“Anatoly.” This time I knew the limit had been reached and surpassed, as his voice was a clear and cold warning.
“I didn’t mean it.” I muttered. We exchanged a glance and he spoke first.
“I may be off-duty today, but it does not mean I will behave in any irresponsible and superficial way. “
The words he told me this morning in the car suddenly flashed in front of my eyes.
“That’s true and you said it yourself this morning, right? Only allowed pleasure.”
He said nothing for a moment, only keeping me pinned on the chair with his authoritative eyes. Then he let go of quite the dark and indecipherable smirk, which darn it, had some of my muscles clench.
“Yiest, Anatoly. Only allowed pleasure.”
And right when I was about to ask him what he meant, two girls stopped at our table with two extra bottles of beer and I think I didn’t curse only because no freaking way I would give him the satisfaction to see how it annoyed me being interrupted. What was with bimbos tonight?
“You mind if we keep you company?” One of them twitted.
I went to bark a no-thank-you, but shut up immediately, darting my eyes to Oleg, simply sitting there as if nothing happened, as if two chicks, one with fake red hair and one with long black hair, were not trying to impress us with the seize of their boobs.
Fuck, what if this was his idea of allowed pleasure?
Author's chit-chat:
So, what are your thoughts about the chapter? Did you enjoy the race with Anatoly and Oleg? It was exciting, right? Well, hope you liked it.
So, here we have a off-duty Oleg, with now two girls approaching them and wanting to flirt. Yeah, I'm a teaser and stopped the chapter here. What will happen next? As you can see, a lot of teasing is going around in this story.
We are slowly getting to know Oleg more.
One side-note: I do THANK everyone for your comments and whenever you want to make suggestions. That's lovely! BUT I have the story and everything already planned and given I know how my characters work, please don't take personal that I will not follow any suggestion. It is NOT because I am full of myself or such, but simply because, as Oleg would say, I know how to deal with my characters. I just felt right say it. However, THANK YOU for being such enthusiastic and partecipating fans!
Until next time.