Come Back To Me: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)

Chapter 5

What's better, fingering, or being eaten out?

My personal opinion, being fingered ITS GREAT

***

I woke up the next morning with a hangover that made me want to become a child of the lord. I also woke up with little to no recollection of the night. The last thing I remembered was shooting the Hulk in the leg. I was quite proud of myself for doing that, go me! , other than that I had no idea how I got home, or what other felonies I committed at the nightclub.

I groaned, covering my face with a fluffy pillow, hating the way my stomach churned and my head throbbed.

Please God, cure my hangover, I will never drink again. Also, please forgive me in advance for lying about never drinking again.

A hangover is pretty much your body telling you you're an idiot. I'm literally an idiot.

"Fucking Barack Obama fucking shit." I cursed, crawling out of bed.

I trudged into the living room, rubbing my eyes as I saw Rachel passed out on the couch. Her bed is literally 12 feet away, why couldn't she have walked.

"Hey" I grumbled shaking her body "wake up bitch."

Her eyes peeled open, the makeup that was caked onto her face last night was smudged under her eyes, making her look like a damn zombie. I probably looked worse. I slumped onto the couch, holding my head in my hands.

"What happened?" She asked, her hands gripping her temples. Her brown hair was sticking up in a million different directions.

I opened my mouth to tell her I had no idea, when someone else beat me to it.

"I carried you home."

My body froze at the sound of Afanas's voice. Holy fuck. Ohmyfucking god. Holy Ellen DeGeneres.

This is not happening.

I turned my around to see a slightly amused Afanas. His dark hair was neatly combed, his even darker eyes were rimmed with tired looking bags. He wore a clean suit, a Gucci watch glittered on his wrist. He looked the same as he did all those months ago. I felt myself struggling for words, as the second in command of the Russian Mafia, and my "husbands" best friend,  stood in my kitchen.

"It's good to see you, suka." He said lowly. His eyes stared steadily at mine, his face was stern and serious.

Rachel groaned, looking at Afanas, and then back to me, "who's the hot slice of dick?"

"Afanas..." My voice quivered. Partly because I was extremely hungover, and partly because I was in a complete state of shock.

"Hey, good looking douchebag" Rachel held her head in her hands "can you tell us how we got here? And what the fuck happened last night?"

Afanas crossed his arm tightly, I knew he didn't like anyone talking to him like that. His face was stone as he glared at her. Rachel didn't seem to notice her rudeness, as she waited for him to reply.

"I carried you both. You were both heavily intoxicated, you especially Calla, and you were in a building full to the brim of men who could easily take advantage of you."

"Or women." Rachel muttered, heaving herself off the couch "you can't forget about the lesbians."

Afanas did not look amused, his dark eyes glared at Rachel as she began walking to her room.

"Oh" She said glancing back at us "quick question, why did you carry Calla all the way to her room, but you just dumped me on the couch?"

"You are heavier. I do not care enough about you to put in unnecessary effort. I should have left you to be raped in that club. At least then you'd have some sense fucked into you."