Tempted by her Daddies: Chapter 1

Salem trudged his way up the steps to the mansion.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe he actually lived here—not that it was his home. It was Roman’s.

Salem lived here because it was convenient. It was close to work. It was reasonably priced. And it was far enough from his parents that his mother didn’t constantly pop in.

Win-win.

Not that he didn’t love his folks. But things had been a bit strained between them since they’d learned he was an MI6 agent. They weren’t happy that he’d lied to them.

In his defense he’d been trying to protect them. Knowing who he was could put them in more danger. Sure, agents could tell close family, but they still had to be careful with how many people knew.

And making sure that they could keep it a secret.

Never a guarantee with his family.

When Roman offered him a room in his house, Salem had jumped on it. Of course, he hadn’t realized that his house was a huge mansion close to Hyde Park.

He opened the black, shiny door and stepped into the grand foyer.

The floors were wooden and polished with an inlaid pattern of circles and crosses. The ceiling had to be thirteen feet high and had an oversized crystal chandelier hanging from it.

There was a sweeping staircase with black wrought-iron railing and a gold banister. It was the sort of staircase you expected to see someone in elegant formal wear step down. Looking gorgeous and posh.

Not at all the sort of staircase where you’d expect to see a muscular, scowling Russian man walking down.

Naked.

Completely. Naked.

“Jesus Christ,” Salem said, shutting the door quickly behind him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking,” Alexei replied. “What are you doing?”

“Wondering if there’s a safe way to bleach my eyes,” Salem said, raising his gaze over Alexei’s shoulder.

This wasn’t what he needed today. He had a tension headache from trying to figure out what Pinky’s next move was going to be. He also had a meeting with his boss on Monday morning and had no idea what to expect.

Not to mention dinner to get through with his folks tomorrow. Which would be filled with lots of awkward and annoying questions about why he wasn’t married yet and when he was going to provide them with a grandchild.

They seemed more concerned about their lack of grandchildren than they did about the fact that he’d been hiding that he worked for MI6!

They should concentrate on his siblings.

Especially Alina. She had four men for God’s sake.

It was far more likely that she was going to end up providing grandchildren for them to coddle.

Although she did live in Escana, so that was a point against her. Perhaps he should try and convince his parents to move there.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love them. He just had a lot on his plate and dealing with them could be . . . a lot.

And now he sounded like an ungrateful ass.

“Why are you walking around without any clothes on?” Salem asked through gritted teeth.

Honest to God.

Sometimes he could kill him.

Salem knew that Alexei was just as frustrated with their lack of progress on taking down Pinky as he was. The cover that Alexei had built for so long, that had helped him infiltrate Pinky’s circle, had been completely blown.

Now, there was a target on his back. He couldn’t go undercover again for a long time. While his knowledge was helpful to the investigation, Alexei was a man of action.

There was nothing worse for Alexei than being stuck behind a desk.

However, that didn’t mean Salem was going to ignore the fact that Alexei was walking around naked.

In a house he shared with two other people.

“Why not?” Alexei asked as he stopped three stairs up, ensuring he towered above Salem.

Salem had learned a long time ago that Alexei wasn’t always as oblivious as he pretended to be. Sometimes, he was very, very calculated in what he did and said.

Which could be extremely . . . trying.

To say the least.

“Why not?” he repeated as he put his car keys in the small jade bowl on the hallway table. “Maybe because you live with two other people who don’t want to see your dick?”

“See something you like?” Alexei grinned. The glint in his eyes was hard.

He’s just looking for a fight.

You don’t need to give it to him.

Salem took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. When he’d been younger, he’d been a bit of a hothead.

It had nearly landed him in a lot of trouble so he’d worked hard to gain control of his temper.

However, there were times when he wasn’t successful. And most of those times were due to this man.

“No. Can’t say that I do.”

Okay. So he was no saint and he couldn’t help but take a dig at Alexei.

The Russian wasn’t at all bothered, though. He made a scoffing noise.

“You like what you see,” he said arrogantly. “You’re just too British to admit it.”

Salem sighed. “You’ve met my family and you can still say that? And I’m not fully British.” His father had been born here in the UK, but his mum immigrated here as a baby with her family from Kuwait.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve lived here long enough and you’ve got the accent. I feel sorry for you.”

“You feel sorry for me?” Salem asked.

“Hmm, you’re sexually repressed.”

“I am not sexually repressed,” he countered.

“Sure you are. Otherwise, why would you have a problem with my dick?”

“I don’t have a problem with your dick,” Salem managed to get out. Although he might have cracked a tooth with how hard he was clenching his jaw.

“Good to know.” Alexei walked down the last of the stairs and headed his way.

Stand your ground.

He’s just trying to prick your temper.

With his . . . prick.

Do not look down at that bastard.

He didn’t need another look.

The image was burned on the back of his eyelids.

When he closed his eyes tonight, that was all he was going to see.

Lucky, lucky him.

“Unless it’s another part of me that you have a problem with?” Alexei asked, stopping a few feet away.

Thank God.

If that thing got hard . . . fuck, with how long it was, it would probably reach him.

You need to stop thinking about his dick.

Salem ran a hand tiredly over his face.

Think of something else. Anything else.

“I do not have a problem with your body.”

“That’s good. Since that would hurt my feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings,” Salem said.

Alexei grinned. “Ahh, but Riordan doesn’t know that. And when I go into our Monday morning meeting and tell him how awkward it makes me feel when you stare at my naked body and make mean comments . . . well, I don’t think he can ignore that.”

“You. Are. The. Worst.”

Salem knew it was a joke. And in all likelihood, Riordan Orr wouldn’t give a shit about what they did as long as it didn’t impact him or their job performance.

Of course, if Salem cut Alexei’s dick off then that might impact his job performance.

“Are you thinking about chopping my dick off? You are, aren’t you?” Alexei asked.

“I choose not to think about your dick at all,” he replied. “And I am not sexually repressed. I’m a freaking Dominant. How can I be sexually repressed?”

“When’s the last time you went to the club?” Alexei asked.

Salem opened his mouth, then closed it.

Fuck it.

When was the last time he’d been to the club? He couldn’t remember.

Shit.

“See? Repressed. Maybe that’s the wrong word. Frustrated? Hmm, perhaps you’re sexually frustrated. Sorry, my English isn’t the best at times.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me,” he grumbled. “You speak perfect English. Better than I do.”

“Thank you. It’s good to be acknowledged in areas where I excel and you don’t. Of course that is pretty much every area.”

You cannot punch him in the dick.

That would involve touching his dick.

You would have to touch his dick in order to cut it off as well.

Stop thinking about his damn dick!

“Can you please go and put some clothes on.” There, that sounded nice and polite, didn’t it?

Even if it wasn’t actually a request and was said in a low, commanding voice.

“Nope.”

He swore that this man was sent to test him.

Chill.

You are in control of your emotions.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have any.”

Salem ran his hand down his face. Again.

Deep breaths. Again.

“. . . hasn’t done the laundry.”

“What?” he asked. “Evette hasn’t done the laundry? That’s not like her.”

“She’s on holiday.” Alexei gave him a strange look. “It’s written on the calendar. The one you insisted on using to keep us all on track. And it’s in your handwriting.”

“But her holiday isn’t until March.”

“Dude. It is March. What is wrong with you? Haven’t you noticed that she hasn’t been here? Ahh, no, you wouldn’t have since you’re never here.”

“Are you missing me?” Salem asked as he moved past the other man.

Who didn’t even move.

Bastard.

Walking into the kitchen, Salem stood in front of the calendar.

Shit.

Evette was on holiday. She’d left four days ago on a four-week break.

Fuck.

He’d sent a request to an agency but then forgotten to follow through.

You’re forgetting a lot at the moment.

“See, if you were around more, you’d know that Evette is away. Which means there is no food in the fridge. No one is making sure Roman eats. Or that he has clean clothes. Or that I have clean clothes.”

“You know how to use a washing machine!” Salem told him.

“Do I?”

Salem turned to glare at him. “You should!”

“You’re right. I do know. There is very little I don’t know how to do.”

“Then why aren’t you washing them?” Salem asked as he stepped further into the kitchen. There were a few dishes in the sink, which wasn’t too bad. Opening the fridge, he saw leftover pizza, some grapes, olives, and a block of rather dubious-looking cheese.

How had things gone to hell in less than a week?

They were three grown men. They should be able to take care of themselves.

“I am washing them. They’re in the washing machine right now. I even grabbed some of Roman’s clothes and put them in the wash as well. I don’t think he’d be too comfortable walking around naked. He’s not as cultured as me.”

Cultured?

Alexei?

Dear God.

“Why didn’t you wash them earlier so that you had something to wear today?” Salem asked.

Be patient.

“You are full of so many questions today. You really should head to the club where you can ask one of your pretty subs all these pesky questions. Get up in their business instead of mine.”

But Salem would never ask a sub at the club personal questions. Because they weren’t friends. It was more like . . . a business transaction.

Fuck.

That sounded so bad. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about them . . . he did.

Just not the sort of care you had for friends and family.

More like a stranger in a vulnerable position that he was supposed to take care of. At least for a few hours. Before he sent them safely on their way.

“I’ve been working. I’ve been trying to figure out Pinky’s next move.”

“Getting anywhere?” Alexei asked.

Frustration filled him. Because he wasn’t. He wasn’t getting. Any. Fucking. Where.

He was failing in his job, and it seemed he was failing at home.

Fuck.

This wasn’t normal for him. Salem wasn’t used to failure.

Which is probably why you’re taking it so badly.

“You seem tense. Perhaps you should work out. Or get laid.”

“I don’t need to get laid.”

But maybe he needed a session at the club. He needed to feel like he was in control of something. Because he certainly didn’t have command of anything at home.

Or in his career.

Things felt like a mess. As though he was spiraling. Which was bizarre. Because Salem didn’t spiral.

It wasn’t something he allowed himself to do.

Yeah. That’s what he needed. To go to the club and find a sub to play with. Tie them up. Spank them. And then he would get them off.

Fuck.

When was the last time he’d come?

“Sure, you don’t,” Alexei drawled. “That’s why you’re wound up tighter than those weird bird clocks.”

Bird clocks?

A cuckoo clock?

Salem opened his mouth, then closed it.

Sometimes he had to learn to pick his battles.