Hitman Daddy by Aster Rae

8

Nikolai

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me,” Christian says. “I need a fake boyfriend just as much as you. But for slightly different reasons."

I take a long sip of diet cola to wash away the confusion building in my chest.

This entire conversation has been one long exercise in top-level mind fuckery.

First, I didn't expect Christian to push back on my demands so goddamn hard. I tried to bully him but he wouldn’t let me.

Second, Christian has no idea I’m hard as a rock under the table or that I want to bang the absolute shit out of him in the back of my Rolls-Royce stretch limo.

But the sexual fantasies are only the tip of the iceberg.

I'm also having very weird fantasies about singing lullabies and rocking him to sleep in my arms.

I haven't even heard a lullaby since Mom died when I was ten.

What the hell is this boy doing to me?

"Tell me your reasons." I shift my legs beneath the table to quell my arousal.

It doesn't work.

One look into Christian's baby blue eyes has my cock rigid in my briefs.

"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Christian says. “I’m sick of my friends on Reddit making fun of me. If I agree to this wedding, I want you to meet my friends Riley and Karter and pretend to date me. That way they'll know I'm not a total loser and maybe it will finally push some other guys to make a move on me."

The thought of being Christian's much-older boyfriend sends a crazy sensation coursing through me.

"I'm two decades older than you,” I growl. "They'll never believe we're dating."

Christian glares at me. "How is that any different than what your family will think at Michael's wedding?"

"Age gap relationships are more accepted in Russia than in the United States. Your friends won't buy it for an instant. My family expects it."

Christian snorts. "My friends will believe it, honey. They know I've liked older guys for as long as I can remember and they'll be happy that I finally met someone good for me."

Disbelief courses through me as I wrap my mind around the fact that Christian's never had a real boyfriend.

I want to find every man he's ever had a crush on and beat some fucking sense into them.

Morons. Every one of them.

How could they turn down perfection?

Yet I'm also a hypocrite. Christian might be a relationship virgin but I'm essentially celibate.

The last time I held a sweet baby boy in my arms I was finishing up my senior year in college seventeen years ago.

I was twenty-two and Jonah, my boyfriend, was twenty.

He was the young man who introduced me to little things like pacifiers, bottles, and binkies.

He taught me how to be a Daddy and how to satisfy a little like him.

At first I was convinced that being a Daddy was a sex thing – a kink that existed solely in the bedroom and involved taboo role-play.

But Jonah quickly showed me that I was wrong.

With kindness and patience, he opened my mind to a world where daddies protected their partners and put their partner’s safety overall.

He even introduced me to the art of reading bedtime stories to my partner – something I never experienced in Russia growing up.

But after we broke up and I grew into my own as a member of the Antonov crime family, I put that past behind me and focused on my job.

Killing. Murder. Death.

Having a relationship while hunting down ruthless Mafia savages and killing dirty politicians is impossible.

Boyfriends are a massive vulnerability.

It's difficult to focus on protecting your partner when your job is to hunt. Murder. Kill.

Christian's awakening something inside me I haven't felt in a long time. Something I thought I lost after I graduated.

I let out a sigh.

Rationally I know that I don't have a choice but to go along with Christian's demands. I must agree to his terms to put him under my family's protection.

But my heart wants to be his fake boyfriend for a different reason altogether.

It's dangerous. Terrifying. But I want to do this because I feel a spark with Christian.

I know he's only using me to pay his tuition and that this isn't anything more than a business relationship, but I want to spend as much time with this cutie as I can.

"I'll do it," I grunt.

"Thank God." Christian rolls his eyes. "You didn't have to stall that long, though. You could’ve just said yes."

"Don't get sassy with me."

Christian ignores my barb. "When can we work out the details of our fake relationship, honey?"

I don't fail to notice that Christian said can instead of could or will.

Cansuggests that working out the details is something Christian may look forward to and not something that he feels bound to do at all.

My heart starts to swell. But I push it down.

Why the hell am I overthinking this?

Probably nothing more than a slip of the tongue.

"I'm having a family barbecue this weekend with my brothers. Come."

Christian glares at me. "Ordering me around is something you're not going to do.”

"You will come. You need to come."

"Try harder."

"Can you come?" I ask after a pause.

It feels weird as hell asking someone to do something instead of outright demanding it.

Too weird.

Christian might be an angel but there's no fucking way I'll make a habit of it.

"I'll have to make sure I'm not working. Rowan will lose his shit if he has to cover for me again."

***

I wait for Christian to show up to the party.

It'd be funny if it weren't so goddamn pathetic.

Me, a ruthless hitman, a member of the Antonov crime family, tapping his fingers against his thighs because of a boy.

"Not just any boy." I accept a rum and coke from my brother Timofey. "An angel."

Christian shows up while I’m sipping my drink.

I can barely believe my eyes as I drink in his crisply ironed checkered button down and beige khakis.

His Converse low tops are adorned with only a sliver of his socks and I lap up the sight of his nearly hairless calves until I nearly groan with arousal.

Christian's hair is parted to one side and flutters like a sailboat flag in the wind.

"Hey, boyfriend." Christian winks at me as he crosses the back patio of Timofey's mansion where I'm standing beside the barbecue. "Sorry I'm late. My Uber stalled in traffic and I had to take a bus."

Annoyance barrels through me at the thought of my precious Christian taking public transportation.

I rage grip my drink and nearly crush the glass.

"You should've texted me." I gave Christian my number at the end of our lunch last week. "I would've called my private driver to pick you up."

Christian rolls his eyes. "That's the most Mafia-like thing you could say. You know, if you want me to think you’re a functioning member of society and not a member of the mob, you have to stop talking like you're straight out of a Martin Scorsese movie."

I ignore his barb. "I would've transferred you the money for another Uber."

"I didn't want to text you." Christian makes a sad face. "I didn't want to impose."

"But I'll do it right now, as long as we’re breaking the ice," Christian jokes, whipping out his phone.

He shoots me a quick text.

Anonymous Number: Hey it's ur boyfriend

I change his contact name to Christian.

Me:It's about time you showed up to the barbecue. My brothers are starting to leave

Christian glares at me. "Asshole," he mutters.

ChristianAKACutie: Better make the most of this opportunity. Introduce me

"Igor," I bellow. I beckon my brother to my side.

Igor lumbers over in a dark suit with his hair impeccably parted to one side.

He's six inches taller than me with a jaw sharp enough to cut glass.

His muscles bulge in his suit and tattoos and scars snake across his visible skin.

I can see the outline of three guns in his pockets.

A smirk pulls at Igor’s lips when he spots Christian.

"Christian." He pumps Christian's hand and nearly crushes it in his grip. "My baby brother's boyfriend. Nikolai's told me so much about you."

"Fake boyfriend," Christian purrs. He quickly removes his hand.

Suddenly, Christian's eyes bulge. "Wait. Shit. Was I supposed to say that?"

Amusement punches me.

I can't believe how cute Christian is.

"It's fine." I wrap my arm around his petite shoulders. "You can tell my brothers the truth. It's the rest of my family we need to convince."

Like my father.

Homophobic bastard numero uno in my life.

My brother Timofey saunters over from the bar. His enormous Cartier timepiece glistens in the sunlight and his tattoos shimmer on his arms.

Timofey runs the family drug trade like an asshole and doesn't care who knows it.

Timofey lets out a snort when he sees Christian. "This is your boyfriend? Jesus Christ. He looks like his dream date is Disney on Ice."

His joke literally makes no sense. “I don’t get it.”

But Christian does. "Are you saying that because I look young?"

"Damn right I am.” Timofey doesn't try to deny it. “I didn't realize my brother was into robbing the cradle."

Christian pulls out his phone.

ChristianAKACutie: I thought you said your brothers were cool with age gap relationships

Me:They’re giving you shit

My phone buzzes.

ChristianAKACutie: It's embarrassing when they call me out for still watching Disney

I eye him suspiciously.

Me:Do you still watch Disney?

ChristianAKACutie: Not for the reasons you think

"So how did you guys meet?" Igor says by way of breaking up our not-so-subtle text conversation.

I put my phone away. "Tell them how we met, babe."

I like how Christian already fits in so well with my family.

I expected him to get shy and embarrassed when he talked to them. My brothers are imposing guys. They've moved more drugs than El Chapo and they look like monstrous criminals.

But Christian is already bantering with them like a pro.

Something warm tears across my heart. I almost want to snare him in a kiss.

But I remember that Christian's only here because of our deal and that he only wants me to pay his tuition.

I force myself to bury the urge.

Christian's cheeks flush. “We forgot to come up with a backstory.”

I pour Christian a glass of cola and shake my head. "We met on the sidewalk outside Crave. You were with your friend Tristan and I invited you into the club. The rest is history."

Timofey lets out a snort. "This seems more complicated than it needs to be."

“How did you meet inside the club?” Igor growls. "You can tell just by looking at him that he's not twenty-one."

Christian and I share a glance. A spark flies out of his eyes and travels to mine.

I chide myself for the hundredth time over feeling such emotions.

Christian's getting money out of this.

It’s ironic that I feel something for him.

"We're not mentioning Christian's age." I take a sip of my drink. "It won't be a dealbreaker if anyone finds out."

Crave is my club. I’m a motherfucking hitman with half the city's politicians in my pocket.

I can let a nineteen-year-old drink if I fucking want to.

“We met on the sidewalk because there's no cameras," I continue. "We can't meet inside the club because anyone can rewind the footage and see that Christian hadn't stepped inside until that night. We want discretion. We can get that by pretending we met outside."

"Hold up." Christian brings two fingers to his temples. "What the hell do you mean by the footage? Does anyone watch the security cameras besides you?"

"The passwords to my security cameras are encrypted. No one can get in unless they know the code."

"So I'm guessing someone besides you knows the code?"

I nod. "We may have been compromised recently. But it won't happen again."

I don't mention that my father's the one who broke into the system.

I've already told my brothers but I've spared Christian that knowledge.

The less he knows, the better.

A bolt of fury pounds me as I realize what I've done to Christian.

I’ve endangered this poor boy's life and he has no idea that I'm the only man keeping him from a bullet in his head.

I hate that I can't tell him the truth but that's what happens in the Mafia.

Christian takes a sip of cola. He makes a face. "There's no rum in here."

"You're not old enough to drink."

"This is a private gathering. I should be able to have a cocktail, right?"

My phone buzzes.

ChristianAKACutie:Let me have a drink Daddy

Me: You're such a brat

"Give me the rum," I grumble.

Timofey passes me the rum and I pour a thimbleful into Christian's cup.

Christian stares at it morosely. "I can handle more than this."

Igor barks out a laugh as he swipes the rum and fills Christian's cup to the brim. "In Russia we start drinking at fourteen. It's only in this godforsaken country that you have to wait until you're in your twenties."

"Thank you," Christian purrs. "Maybe you can be my fake boyfriend instead."

I growl.

As punishment for his sassiness, I grab his cup and pour half of it into mine.

This liquor is strong as hell.

The last thing I want is for Christian to pass out at the barbecue.

“I will not tolerate your sassy attitude a second longer," I growl. "Now come on. Timofey’s about to throw burgers on the grill. We don't want to waste any more time."

"You're so bossy." Christian glares at me.

I pull out my phone.

Me:And you're a fucking brat but you don't see me saying that in front of my family

My phone buzzes at once.

ChristianAKACutie: Remind me why I'm here again?

Me:I'm paying you twenty grand and pretending to be your fake boyfriend

Christian makes a face as he takes a tepid sip of his cocktail.

ChristianAKACutie:This cocktail’s disgusting

ChristianAKACutie: You forgot to remind me that I hate rum

Me: Does the brat prefer champagne?

ChristianAKACutie: I prefer warm milk from Daddy’s bottle >.<

Oh my God.

This boy is a nightmare.

But my heart is bursting with the warmest sensations I've ever felt in my life.

Christian is cute but I know this will come to an end and I'll have to go back to being the stone-cold killer I am.

But right now the sun is red-hot, the burgers are sizzling, and life has never been better.

All I want to do is enjoy this moment with my fake boyfriend.

Don't forget you're breaking up after the wedding.