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Je vais bien. Tu vas bien. Nous allons bien. I am okay. You are okay. We are okay. I was allowed only a few seconds
Having been only thirteen at the time, and him eight years my senior, I’d thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. I’d fallen in love with his accent and endearingly limited knowledge of English, and I couldn’t have embarrassed myself more by following him around our spacious Spanish Colonial home. Now, he followed me. One hand rested in his pants pocket, and the other held out a small red velvet box. “From your papa.”
“I hope you didn’t sprain anything,” I said. Ivan cast me a questioning look. “It’s a strenuous job digging through Papa’s backup gift drawer.” With a sigh, he ran a hand through his blond hair. “He cares, Mila.”
And Carter, despite experimenting with him out of sheer boredom. Not to mention, he was incredibly persuasive.
resfeber (n.) the restless race of a traveler’s heart before a journey begins
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“Ty vyglyadish’ znakomo. My ran’she ne vstrechalis’?” Sludge stuck to my thoughts like gum. He spoke too fast for me to understand any of it. The doctor adjusted his glasses, scrutinizing me. “Mozhesh’ skazat’ svoye imya, dorogoya?”
“U tebya yest’ sem’ya, s kotoroy ya mogu svyazat’sya?” “How old are you, moy kotyonok?”
“Ona ne khochet idti v bol’nitsu.” That was the strangest Russian thank you I’d ever heard. “Bol’nitsu” must mean something else. Kirill pursed his lips before responding. “He says someone should wake you tonight. Protocol for head injuries.” “Oh.”
But before his dark silhouette disappeared from view, I remembered what “moy kotyonok” meant. My kitten.
The soup smelled so good it made my mouth water, but it looked like solyanka, which meant it contained meat. I’d been a vegan since I watched a meatpacking documentary in junior high.
He bit his cigar between his teeth and winked at me.
his arm loosely around the neck of the other kid, whose unsmiling face was turned away from the camera. But it didn’t hide a sliver of his eyes that were sharp enough to pierce through the picture. They looked poor. Maybe even homeless.
I felt like Duckie in Pretty in Pink, and we all know how that ended up. “The music. My papa listens to the same music.”
dépaysement (n.) when someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one
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“No, it never is, is it?” My voice rose. “I know about my papa’s other family. You don’t have to scare me into coming home to keep the secret anymore. For once, I’m thinking about myself.” Silence. “Mila—”
I bit my lip and admitted, “I don’t do fur.” He raised a brow and drawled, “Don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian too.” “Ah . . .” I gave him an apologetic smile. “Vegan.”
Ronan pulled his gaze to me and winked. He had tattoos on his fingers and he just quoted a famous poet. It made me feel ridiculously hot all over.
I was either drunker than I thought, or Liza kept glancing my way between her lines. She was gorgeous, with long black hair and exotic looks. It took a moment to realize she wasn’t looking at me but at Ronan.
“The soft ones are the most loyal,” I countered. “And naïve.” “If you mean trusting, yes.”
“Of course not.” So many things said otherwise, but the defense that slipped out sounded superficial to my own ears. “Sometimes I eat dairy when there’s no other option.” As if he couldn’t help it, he laughed softly. “That’s a concerning issue, kotyonok. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you the same way again.”
I turned around and kissed him, mid-sentence. It was slightly off-center. Unpracticed. Our teeth clinked.
“Kotyonok.” He drew the word out in a low warning. “Do you know what you’re doing?” Nope. Not at all. I shook my head. He watched me. “Do you usually kiss your dates like that?” So, it was a date?
“You’re the first.” The amusement in his eyes faded to pleasure. Heat. Something soaked in intensity and satisfaction. He stepped forward, forced my back to the door, and rested his hands on the frame above my head. My pulse was a distant whoosh in my ears, overwhelmed by the tremor that rolled across my skin and the closeness of his body. I couldn’t find enough air to breathe.
“I have always loved coming in first.”
“Ty dazhe na vkus sladkaya.”
“Touch me,” I begged. His hands didn’t move from above my head, but as if he knew what I needed, he pressed his thigh between mine. Right against my clit. I panted, a wave of pleasure sliding down my spine when I rocked against it, already feeling the budding pressure of release.
I moaned into his mouth and rocked against his leg, needing more friction. The empty pressure between my thighs built and built, and I kissed him without finesse, humming desperately into his mouth. “Fuck,” he rasped against my lips. “Are you going to come on me, kotyonok?” His accented voice grated abrasively as sand.
“Go inside and lock the door, Mila.” It wasn’t soft at all, nor was it a suggestion. I watched him for a moment and then acquiesced without a word. Once the door shut behind me, I slid down it, trembling, while the hot burn of his lips still smoldered on my skin.
Don’t give this one away. —Ronan I lifted out a long faux fur coat. This one was softer and more luxurious than the last. It had to be outrageously expensive, but my easy heart still grew twice its size. I slipped my arms into the coat and sighed as I fell back on the bed, where I ate the delicious vegan pastry while running my fingers through the white fur. I liked Ronan. I liked him a lot.
“Causing havoc and stealing away virgins at night.” He said it so sincerely, a soft laugh escaped me. Something heavy and warm settled with each frozen breath between us. His eyes were cautious as they took me in. “I see you got the coat.”
“I’m twenty, by the way, not nineteen.” He looked amused by the admission, like I was a child announcing I was now eight while proudly displaying a hand and three fingers. “Are you?” I swallowed. “My birthday was a few days ago.” “I’m thirty-two, kotyonok.” Oh.
learned his last name was Markov, and he had a brother who lived in New York City with a pregnant wife and young daughter. Ronan sounded sentimental when he spoke of them, and I fell a little further into his hands. Soon, he’d be able to mold me like putty. He
With a shaking hand, I turned the phone off and put it back in my pocket. I just wanted a week. A single week wouldn’t kill anyone.
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled my mouth to his. I gasped, heat erupting like fire between my legs and licking at every cell in my body. I melted into his rough hold, getting lost in the hot glide of his tongue against mine. My nipples tightened as they brushed his chest, sending sparks lower, and I hummed against his mouth. He groaned low in his throat, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth.
“Thank you . . . for lunch.” His eyes lowered to my mouth, and I exhaled when his thumb skimmed across my bottom lip. “Klubnika.” Strawberries? My lip gloss. I tasted like strawberries.
“Do svidaniya, kotyonok.”
nazlanmak (v.) saying no and meaning yes
“Idealnaya,” he said roughly. Perfect.
“Pomni.” His lips pressed against my ear. “Ti eto prosila.”
“He might forget the size of his cock with no finger to compare it to.” “His wife would miss the shocker,” one said, eliciting hearty laughs around the room. Ronan smiled. “I guess she will have to get it elsewhere.” My vision dimmed, terror inflating in my throat, when he stood and slammed the man’s hands flat on the table. “Any last words as a ten-fingered man?”
“Pasha was my brother.” The unfortunate truth was, I forgot the kid’s name when I had my fingers deep inside Mila. Maybe she was poisonous.
I stared at the scene playing in front of my eyes, revulsion rising in my throat. The moan on the screen came from me while I sat naked on Ronan’s lap, grinding on his hand. He recorded us.
“A video of you riding my cock would have been better, but regardless, you make a good show, kotyonok.”
I was stupid. I knew it, and I accepted it. But hearing it from his lips sent a burst of fire through me.
“I wonder what your papa would think if he saw this.” Disgust bit at my veins. He couldn’t be that twisted. “Shall we find out?”
Acid climbed up my throat, and then I leaned over and threw up everything in my stomach onto the Persian rug. He lowered to his haunches in front of me and wiped some puke from my bottom lip with his thumb. “What am I going to do with you, kotyonok?”
“Semantics,” Ronan countered drily, his thoughtful eyes on me. “She could be Tatianna’s twin. Must be awkward you fucked a woman who looked just like her.”
an infant and cloistered me in Miami? “This should have never touched you, and I am sorry for that. Just know I have always loved you, Mila, no matter what you hear about me.” That was the third time I’d ever heard him tell me he loved me, and it split my heart in half. “Please don’t do this, Papa,” I pleaded. “He’ll kill you.” “Ivan will stay by your side. He cares for you.”
