Maxim: Red Bratva Billionaires

by Miller, Coco

  He follows closely behind, his orgasm shooting his hot cum deep into my body. His body spasms briefly as he deposits every ounce of his essence inside of me.

  When we both come down from our encounter, guilt consumes me. In fact it overpowers me, making me feel horrible. I’m gutted to know I could do this to my sister. What do I do? I have to tell her. I have to fix this. I have to confess.

  I’m stricken with guilt as Maxim brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. I can’t bear to have him even touch me.

  I feel vulnerable.

  I feel confused.

  The man I’ve been lusting after is married to my sister, and here I am fucking him against a tree. I can’t believe myself, and I am so ashamed.

  “What have we done?” I ask as I pull my panties and shorts up my long legs. As soon as they are put on, I turn to leave.

  “Katrina, no,” he starts but I am already rushing toward the house, racing to get away from our mistake. Rushing to get away from the dirtiness of it all. Tears streaming down my face. I am no better than a whore.

  I run up the stairs and slam the bathroom door. Throwing off my clothes, I turn the water on as hot as I can in the shower. I need to wash away the guilt of fucking my brother-in-law. Someone who should be off-limits.

  Someone who is off-limits.

  Like beyond off-limits.

  A moment of weakness is all it was, I think as I let the water relax my muscles. It can’t happen again. It won’t happen again, and I make the decision to ignore the hell out of him for the remainder of my time here. It’s the only way.

  Maybe I’ll return to Boston early. I can make up an excuse that work called. They need me to return to file shit.

  The next morning, I will do exactly just that.

  I need to leave.

  Chapter Seven

  The next day my plan is null and void when Tasha announces that her and Maxim need to return to Boston.

  I’m off the hook. I’ll stay here, because I know deep in my gut that being in the same city as him would be bad news. If we were both in Boston, I know that I’d find an excuse to see him. It would be bad. So I’ll just stay at my mom’s. It’s the safest option.

  I don’t talk to Maxim as he loads up their car, and I rush to my room as they pull out of the driveway and head off down the road.

  Phew, I think to myself, I lucked out. I don’t even know how to act around him now that we’ve crossed the line, and I hope I’ll never have to see him ever again. I still am so ashamed and stricken with guilt.

  Hopefully they won’t return, and I won’t have to see him anytime soon. At least the distance will allow me some time to rid myself of these feelings that I seem to have for him.

  I piddle around the house for the rest of the afternoon. Then, my mother and I head into town and shop at a few antique shops. Should I tell her? No, I can’t. I wouldn’t even know what to say, and really what would be the point? I’ll make it a point never to see Maxim again.

  We keep the conversation light, and I focus my fucking hardest on all the old shit in each shop.

  As we sit down to dinner, I glance at the offering along the table. Nachos and chicken wings.

  “Mom, are Tasha and Maxim planning on coming back?” I ask, unable to think about anything else. It’s true, all damn day I’ve wondered if they would return.

  “Sure, they just had an appointment they needed to attend to in Boston. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

  I gaze into my mother’s eyes as I deliver the next line.

  “Oh, that’s too bad that I’ll miss them. I’ve been called back to Boston for work.”

  She laughs, probably thinking I’m joking, but when I don’t return her laughter, she frowns.

  “You can’t just leave,” she whines.

  “Mom, please. It’s work.”

  She stares at me as if I’m speaking Japanese. “You just got here, and teachers have the summers off.”

  I feel guilty. It’s not my mom’s fault that I slept with Maxim. It’s my mistake, and I need to own that shit.

  “Fine, I’ll call my principal and see what I can do. I’m not making any promises though.”

  I shrug my shoulders as her smile widens.

  “Thank you, Katrina.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I grumble.

  My thoughts return to Maxim and how awkward it will be when he returns. I just don’t get it. My sister’s first husband was never an issue. Absolutely no attraction to Jamal at all. Why couldn’t she have worked things out with him instead? Why did she have to go and marry the King of all fucks, because that man fucked better than a porn star. Not that I’ve ever been with a porn star, but I’ve seen a few pornos, and this man made those men look like amateurs.

  I’m half-tempted to imagine another go with him, but then I mentally reprimand myself. Maybe I’ll even spank myself later for thinking about him. Or I could imagine him spanking me for thinking about him. Okay, I know, that makes no sense. I’m officially being dumb.

  That’s when the realization hits me, I have it bad for the Russian sex god. I am falling hard for my sister’s husband. The question is what on God’s green earth am I going to do about it?

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, as I descend the staircase, I see him. As if it’s possible, the man looks better than yesterday. Arms crossed, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, swag for days, sexy as hell, and dressed simply in dark jeans and a black tight t-shirt.

  “Did you miss me?” he asks as I get to the last step, our eyes connecting.

  “Where’s your wife?” I retort.

  “She’s around here somewhere.” He smirks and it pisses me off.

  “Maybe you should go find her.” I brush past him, pretending that the sight of him doesn’t phase me.

  “I don’t want to. I’d rather find you. Maybe find a certain spot on your body. One that starts with a G. You like it when I find that spot, no?”

  I whip around, my eyes shooting daggers into his two expressive ones.

  “What happened between us was a mistake, and it won’t ever happen again.”

  Am I the only one feeling guilty?

  Maxim follows me into the kitchen, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my mother chatting away with my sister. I’ve been granted a reprieve, because honestly I don’t know if I can handle being alone with him anymore.

  When I know that he’s nearby, then every nerve ending in my body turns on full alert. His sexiness rattles me to the core, causing my mind to ponder another shot with him, but I head to the fridge instead and grab a bottle of water. I need to cool myself down. Literally.

  “Katrina, are you going out with us tonight?” Tasha asks.

  “First I’m hearing about it.”

  I want to ask if Maxim is going too, but it’s obvious he’s going. His eyes watch me like a hawk, as if he’s holding his breath waiting for my answer. Willing me to say yes.

  “Come on, Trina, some of your girls from high school will be there. Even Kelly. It’s kind of an unofficial reunion. A couple people in town for the summer mentioned meeting up online, so I thought we could go too. Might be kind of fun.”

  “Why do you want me to go?” I ask suspiciously. Tasha never wants to hang out with me. “I talk to people from high school all the time on Facebook.”

  “It would be weird for me to go without you and you’re in town, Katrina.”

  Aah, that’s it. To keep up appearances. I shoot a quick glance at Maxim before returning my attention on my sister’s insistent face. He looks eager to hear my response.

  “Okay, fine. Where?”

  Tasha informs me we will be heading to Jasper’s, which is a local bar in town that’s been in business since before I was born. I’ve been there a couple of times over the years. It’s nothing special, but it’s always crawling with locals. Maybe I’ll meet a new guy; someone to take my mind off Maxim.

  I leave the kitchen and head up to my room to read a few
cookbooks before our night out. I’ve been obsessed with shrimp recipes lately. A few hours later, I’m standing in front of my full-length mirror in my closet. The short, gold dress I wear hugs my curves and rides a little up my ass.

  It’s an old dress from back in the day that I found in mom’s cedar closet, which I remember being longer back then. Now, it borders on indecent. But if I’m going to pick up a guy tonight, I need to dress for the job. I tug at the hem, hoping to add some length to it. Doesn’t work. I examine my cleavage as my breasts peek out from the low-cut cleavage. It’ll have to do. A dab of red lipstick and I deem myself ready.

  Heading down the stairs, Tasha and Maxim wait together hand in hand. He casually drops her hand as soon as he sees me.

  He looks sexy of course. Doesn’t he always? His hair is freshly washed, his pants fit his ass like a glove, and I can smell him from here. Delicious. He lifts his lips into a smirk when he sees me. I think he likes the dress. I like that he likes it. God, I’m playing with fire.

  We wave goodbye to my mother as we pile into their car. My anxiety is thick as fog in the small space of the vehicle and suddenly I want out. Maxim watches me through the rearview mirror. My pulse races every time our eyes meet through the reflection. Is it hot in here? I feel hot. Like his eyes are catching my entire core on fire.

  When we reach the bar, Maxim parks. He opens his door and steps from the car as Tasha hops out the passenger side. He opens my door and I slide out.

  He leans in close. “You should not be wearing that, Tantsor.”

  Hmmm, maybe he doesn’t like the dress. That’s fine too.

  “Why not?” I tug at the bottom again, trying to pull the material further down my legs.

  “Because I don’t want any other men wanting what’s mine,” he says gruffly.

  My sister calls to us to hurry up, before I can ask him if he’s fallen and bumped his head. I’m not his. I don’t belong to him. My sister belongs to him, and we’d both do well to remember that.

  Maxim waves us on ahead as he answers his cell phone, taking yet another call. He’s always on the phone. Sometimes I wonder if he has yet another little woman tucked away somewhere. Some poor girl sitting at home pining away for her Russian lover. Hell, it’s possible. He’s sleeping with me, so why couldn’t he have some other woman on the side somewhere?

  I enter the dimly lit bar with my sister. Smoke wafts from the door, billowing out to the fresh air outside, as we step inside.

  “What does he do for work?” I ask my sister in her ear. “He’s always on that phone.”

  Her eyes widen a bit, she glances around the bar. “Oh a little of this and that.”

  “What does that even mean?” I ask with a suspicious laugh.

  “Don’t worry about it, ok?” She grabs my arm in a strangely tight hold. “He’s important at work.”

  I pull back and she releases my arm. “Ok.”

  What the hell was that all about. Like seriously? Now I can’t help but obsess in wanting to know what Maxim does for a living, especially now that I know that Tasha wants me to mind my business.

  I glance around, mainly in search of Kelly. Tasha said she would meet us here. A country tune blares from the speakers, and I roll my eyes at the twangy tune playing. I rather be listening to Beyonce.

  A pool table sits off in the back of the bar, and before I can make a full sweep of the place three girls are running right toward me.

  “Oh, my God, Katrina!” they all scream.

  Suddenly Maxim enters the bar, and it’s like the whole world stops spinning when he walks in. He has another two men with him, and by the way they hang on his every word, they appear to be working for him. Doing what I don’t know.

  Maxim is huge. He doesn’t need bodyguards, but it almost appears as if that is exactly what these two men are. His bodyguards. Maxim and his two new friends walk over to Tasha, who seems to recognize them, and I return my attention to my friends.

  “Hey guys,” I say as soon as they hug me.

  They are all still very pretty. Kelly and Stacy both have long blonde hair and blue eyes, which they call the ‘killer combo’. Most guys in school loved a blonde with blue eyes, and those two were never without a boyfriend all through high-school. Phoebe has short black hair, coiffed in a modern shape, with stunning greenish-blue eyes. She looks a bit like Katy Perry.

  I’ve always been comfortable with my looks, but seeing my old friends reminds me of my insecure high school days. There weren’t a lot of girls who looked like me in my school. Black girls are a rare commodity in these parts. So while I’m relatively attractive, I just always felt different, and being different didn’t always feel good.

  I rush to the bar with my friends from high school and we catch up on what’s been happening. It almost feels just like I’m right back in high school again. I’m smiling and laughing along with my friends as they glance over at Maxim.

  “Who is that beautiful man with your sister?” Stacy asks, ordering a margarita from the bartender. She looks like she wants to lick him from head to toe, or could I possibly be projecting my own desires. I want to lick him from head to toe.

  “He’s my sister’s new husband.”

  I order a mojito while I watch their jaws drop simultaneously.

  “No fucking way. How did Tasha of all people score a hottie like that?” Kelly asks.

  “Her stellar personality?” I say sarcastically as we all laugh together. I glance over mid chuckle to find Maxim’s eyes staring me up and down.

  Phoebe grabs my arm, drawing my attention back to her. “Guess who’s here, girl? Trevor.”

  I take a quick sweep of the bar with my eyes, searching for my old high school boyfriend. His dark hair peers out above the crowd, and I see his gentle brown eyes staring back at me. His white teeth shine against the dark color of his skin, and I offer a small smile in return as he makes his way over.

  “Hey Katrina. How’ve you been?” His tall frame towers over me. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him, and something about him seems more mature although he looks essentially the same.

  “I’m good. Living in Boston still. What about you?” I want to ask if he still plays football, because he was the jock of all jocks in high school and college too. Football. Swimming. Basketball. He did it all when his schedule permitted.

  “I’m actually coaching the football team at Jensen High now.”

  Oh, wow, answers that question.

  “That sounds right up your alley. Do you like it?”

  “Love it.”

  Trevor is still good looking, and I try to remember why we ever broke up in the first place. I imagine it’s because I think people expected us to be together for the obvious reasons. He was cute, popular and black. It didn’t matter that the two of us has practically nothing in common.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot Maxim on the dance floor with my sister. Yuck. He was inside of me just a few nights ago. He has no shame.

  I get a good luck at their interaction on the dance floor. Dancing can tell you a lot about a person and especially about a couple. They have zero chemistry. They don’t even look like they’ve ever danced together before.

  I am baffled as to why they are together? He doesn’t look at her the way he looks at me. He doesn’t hold her the way he held me while he fucked me against a tree in the dark of the night. Why couldn’t I have met him first?

  My sister glances around the club while Maxim’s eyes stay focused on me. I can’t believe this is happening. What if someone notices.

  I dart my eyes back to Trevor. I look at his straight nose, and white teeth, and I am transported back to my senior year of high school. Him breaking up with me on prom night because I wouldn’t sleep with him. It’s all so clear. Now I remember why we aren’t together. He was an ass.

  I smile as he makes small talk, asking Kelly and the girls about their lives. He asks me to dance and I finish off my drink, slamming it on the bar before agreeing. He holds me tight to h
is chest as a slow song plays.

  “This feels so right. I’ve missed you,” he says into my ear.

  “Oh,” I say, because saying anything else right now feels wrong with Maxim watching me.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  He slides a few of my curls behind my ear, and for the first time tonight I wish I wasn’t wearing this little, gold dress. I feel a little uncomfortable.

  “Well, I came with my sister,” I try to stall. “And, besides I haven’t seen my friends in forever. I want to stay and visit a while.”

  He doesn’t say anything as his hand inches lower down my backside. Before he can reach my ass, a hand stops him.

  Trevor is practically yanked away from me by someone else. I look up and Maxim has one hand around the back of Trevor’s’ neck and the other hand gripping Trevor’s wrist.

  Maxim’s eyes are filled with pure fire, raging with an unmistakable anger and rage. The two men with him flank him on either side.

  “Don’t touch,” Maxim grits out in a thick accent. “Or you won’t be able to touch anyone again.”

  “Dude, let go of me. Who the fuck are you?” Trevor’s face contorts into an angry one, but Maxim controls the situation.

  The two men step closer, ready to jump in to aid Maxim if he may need it, but he doesn’t seem to need anything.

  “Katrina, did you give this man permission to touch your zadnitsa?” Maxim asks.

  “Her what?!” Trevor exclaims.

  “Her ass,” Maxim’s eyes narrow, blazing fireballs straight into Trevor as his jaw ticks.

  By this time, Kelly and the girls have walked over to witness the scene but Tasha isn’t anywhere in sight.

  “We were just dancing, dude. Let me go!”

  There’s a tense pause between the two of them before Maxim releases his hold on Trevor.

  “Fuck you, man,” Trevor spits. He steadies himself and looks me over. “See ya around, Katrina.”

  I nod my head, still in shock to say anything else. I mean, what do you say to that? Kelly, and the girls are shell-shocked as well. We just gawk at Maxim as he runs his fingers over his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. Like some sort of mob boss. That’s what he reminds me of in this moment, and I glance at the two men standing on either side of him.