by Lily Harlem
Vadmir placed his forearm over my shoulder and pulled me against his side. He looked down at me. “I’m going to put skates on and give the guys a training session. You okay to hang out here?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You can grab a coffee from the machine.”
“I’m fine. I’ve had plenty.”
“Sure.”
“Yeah, so go show me what you can do, Russian boy.”
“I think you already know what I can do.” He dropped a quick kiss to my lips and then strode off. “And I know you like it,” he threw over his shoulder.
I found a seat at the end of a long row of blue plastic benches and tucked myself out of the way. It gave me a good vantage point and I could see the coffee machine if I decided I needed caffeine and heat.
There were already several players on the ice, knocking pucks around and weaving in and out of cones. A couple of guys in opposite goals were padded up and doing their best to stop shots.
I made the most of the alone time and called Harmony and then Patrick. Harmony was on the mend and Patrick, like Nicola had been, was perfectly nice about my oversleeping but I sensed an underlying note of disappointment. But that disaster felt a million miles away, up here in the Arctic Circle. And even missing my holiday in Miami didn’t feel so bad now that Vadmir had said we’d go together. That thought appealed to me very much. I wondered if we’d go this month.
After ten minutes Vadmir shot onto the ice with Ivan at his side. He was tall anyway, but the additional inches his skates gave him meant he looked enormous. His must have had padding on beneath his black jersey, too, because his already wide shoulders were now colossal.
There was a chorus of whoops and cheers from the young guys on the ice and many of them tapped sticks with Vadmir who was grinning broadly beneath his cage helmet.
Ivan eventually calmed everyone down and Vadmir took over the training.
I folded my arms to keep the warmth close to my body, and watched him patiently helping line shots up, advising the forward and the keeper and then setting exercises.
The rink was filled with the sounds of blades on ice, pucks sliding and hitting the boards and deep Russian voices. Several other spectators gathered, men and women and a few young kids. I guessed word had got out that an All-Star player was in town.
Eventually the hour came to an end, all the players slid to the opposite side of the rink and then stomped onto the hard floor leaving the ice eerily empty.
When Vadmir disappeared out of view I went for coffee. My toes were cold as were my hands, even in gloves. The vending machine was onerous, taking more of my kopecks than it should. But eventually I had a paper cup with something warm and brown in it that smelled vaguely like coffee.
Leaving my gloves off, I cupped it in my palms and walked back to where I’d been sitting.
The few spectators had drifted off and I sat, planning on waiting for Vadmir to come find me when he was finished.
The coffee was weak and contained sugar, which I didn’t normally take. I sipped it and held the cup until it was cool and then went on the hunt for a trashcan. I’d expected Vadmir to have returned by now.
I spotted a blue plastic bin with a black liner wrinkled around the top and headed for it. I dropped the cup inside and then wandered deeper into the back corridors of the rink.
Voices filtered toward me, from around the next corner. One was deep, it sounded like Vadmir.
I continued walking, the soles of my new boots utterly silent, as I eased my gloves back on.
Just before I rounded the corner I paused. It was gloomy here and the voices echoed. It was a little creepy. But also now I was sure one was Vadmir’s and the other, that was female.
Hesitating for just a second, I then stepped into view.
I’d been right, it was Vadmir, and he was talking to a woman. She wore a caramel colored coat that I’d bet was real fur. Cascading from a hat that matched her coat, she had straight dark hair, nearly as long as mine. Even from here I could see she was stunningly beautiful with large doe-like eyes and scarlet lips, skin as smooth as china.
I stopped and shifted into the shadows, not hiding but not announcing my presence, either. My attention had been caught because they were talking in urgent tones plus Vadmir’s hand gestures were agitated.
She turned from him, faced away and bowed her head.
He rested his hand on her shoulder, moved in close behind and spoke into her ear.
A swell of nausea rolled through me. What I was witnessing was an intimate gesture, one that suggested they were more than passing acquaintances—more than friends.
He was talking again, in hushed tones, the sound mumbling toward me through the cool, shadowed corridor. I had no idea what he was saying but he rubbed her shoulders as he did so. Soothingly, the way I had him the night before when he’d been upset.
Suddenly she turned again and looked up at him.
He dropped his hands. I thought he might step back from her, she looked so angry. But he didn’t, instead he raised his chin and stared down at her with his jaw set.
She spoke again, short clipped words.
He shook his head from side to side.
She pursed her lips and glared up at him.
For a moment it seemed they were having a staring competition but then she spun from him and strutted my way.
She wore high-heeled boots that clattered noisily and the sound ricocheted around the corridor like a string of bullets.
I had no time to move or run, so, shoving my hands into my pockets, I pulled in a deep breath. A gut feeling assured me she wasn’t about to be my new best buddy. Instinct told me she was a rival.
Her gaze landed on me and she faltered for a second, her tapping heels pausing briefly. Then she strode forward as if with renewed irritation, arms swinging, chin held high.
I bit on my bottom lip and glanced at Vadmir, who was standing with his hands on his hips, his cap pulled low and his feet apart.
She set her gaze on me, not blinking, just staring. No smile, no greeting, only an arctic glare.
“I vot teper' etot,” she said, suddenly spinning to face Vadmir. “Vy privezti yeye syuda.”
“Dah,” he said, “I did bring her here.” He looked from her to me. His eyebrows were pulled low and his mouth a tight, straight line.
She huffed, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and after one final withering look my way, marched around the corner.
I stared at the space she’d just occupied. If I’d felt cold before now I was frozen.
“Sammy,” Vadmir said, pacing up to me, his long strides making short work of the distance.
“Who was that?” I asked, suppressing a shiver that was trying to prickle its way up my spine.
“Alena.”
“You know her.” I didn’t make it a question, it was a statement. It was obvious they knew each other. “What were you arguing about?”
“You’re cold,” he said, touching the backs of his fingers to my cheek.
“Yes, but what was going on between you?” I had no right to be jealous. We didn’t exactly have a relationship, but I couldn’t help it. We were together, for this week at least. Hell I’d sucked him off yesterday, up at the forest. I was staying in his home. “Who is she to you?”
“Just a girl,” he said, frowning and dropping his hands to his sides.
“Just a girl,” I repeated. The forest. A sudden memory of the forest, something he’d said about taking his girlfriend up there, on bikes, came back to me. Alena? “Girlfriend, you mean?”
“Ex-girlfriend. Come on, let’s get out of here. I have done my duty for the rink and the guys.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and steered me in the direction I’d just come.
“The girlfriend you used to take to the forest? You said her name was Alena, didn’t you?”
He huffed. “You are too clever, Sammy, but yes, Alena is the girl I used to cycle to the forest with, when we were teenagers.”
“Yes, it was. A very long time ago.”
“So why did she give me a death stare?”
“I am sorry for that.”
“Vadmir.” I stopped and pressed my hand on his arm. His jacket was thick and puffy. “I know what we’ve got is a whirlwind of… I don’t know, sex, hanging out, whatever. And we don’t exactly have any claim on each other, but…” I sighed. “Honesty is good between friends, and we are at least friends.” I paused. “Friends with benefits, perhaps, but friends, yes?”
“Yes, friends.” He smiled, one side of his mouth tilting and the skin at the corners of his eyes creasing. I loved that smile of his. It was so genuine and warming and made me feel better. “And I agree, honesty is the best programme.”
“So,” I said, “Who is she and why is she so angry that you brought me here?”
“She was my first love and I hers, but as you said it was a long time ago. A decade ago, longer, from when we first started dating.”
I swallowed and beat down an image of them together at the forest, naked, her doing the things I liked doing with Vadmir. I thought of him as a younger man, learning the ropes of sex. Exploring the female form for the first time and discovering all of those deliciously dirty things he knew now that made my body sing.
“So what went wrong?” I asked.
“I went to America.”
I hadn’t been expecting that. “But you said you’d only been there four years.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And you were still together before you went, from being teenagers?”
He nodded. “We were, yes.”
“But surely you were serious by then. After all of that time.”
“We were, well at least I was, but she wouldn’t come with me.” He shrugged and the rustling of his jacket material was noisy in the silent arena. “She wouldn’t wait for me and she wouldn’t come to America, either. What choice did I have but to end it? I couldn’t sacrifice my career for her, my career is for more than just me, it is for my family, too. We needed money.” He sighed. “Dad’s health was already bad, even then.”
“That must have been a hard choice.”
“Not really. I did what I needed to do.”
“Well yes, I can understand that.”
“Can you?”
“Of course. No one should be made to sacrifice their dreams for another person. You did what you had to do.” I slid my hand down his arm and took his hand in mine. “But just for the record, I think she’s crazy, she would have loved America.”
He smiled suddenly and then touched the tip of his nose to mine. “Maybe, maybe not. I guess I’ll never know.”
“And is she still in love with you? Is that why she was mad?” I studied his eyes.
“She wouldn’t admit it even if she was, but I doubt it. It’s just her pride that is hurt. I brought another woman to Sokol, a beautiful American woman.” He brushed his lips over mine. “But let’s not talk about Alena anymore. We have a wonderful venison broth waiting for us made by Darya.”
Chapter Sixteen
The meal Darya had cooked was amazing and I couldn’t believe how hungry I was. I wondered if it was the cold that had increased my normally low appetite. But then perhaps it was sitting around a table with Vadmir and his family that had done it. I’d enjoyed passing bowls of food around, sipping wine and admiring the twilight view from the kitchen window—Sokol illuminated by streetlamps with the meandering river weaving through the center was incredibly pretty.
Ruslan had also joined us for the meal, feeling strong enough to move from the bedroom to the dining area. Vadmir had wheeled the heavy cylinder through and Ruslan ate with the small plastic cannula beneath his nose, still delivering the much needed oxygen. He wasn’t full of conversation but I guessed that was because of the effort it had taken to move from the bedroom for the first time in weeks.
“So how was Ivan?” Darya asked Vadmir as she scooped up the last of her dinner with a wedge of bread.
“He was good,” Vadmir said. “He doesn’t change, always wanting more from the team, always pushing.”
She tipped her eyebrows. “He did that to you and now look where you are.”
“Yes, you are right.” He took a slug of his drink.
“And, Samantha, did you enjoy watching or were you cold?” She shuddered. “I always get so cold when watching Vadmir play.”
“Yes, it was cold, but I enjoyed it. I’ve never seen a real live hockey game.”
“You haven’t?” Vadmir said, turning to me and looking surprised.
“No. I don’t get much time off and when I do I prefer warm leisure pursuits.”
“Pursuits?” Darya asked frowning.
“Yes, pastimes, things to do.”
“Ahh,” she said, nodding her understanding of the new word.
Zoya leaned across, touched my arm and held the wine above my empty glass.
“Yes, please.” I smiled.
She topped up my drink and studied me as I took a sip and gave her an approving nod. She seemed fascinated by me still, and watched my every move like a hawk. It wasn’t unsettling, just a little weird.
“So tell me about these pursuits,” Darya said. “What are they?”
“Well, I’m based in Orlando at the moment. I was renting a place with my friend, Harmony, but the lease came up and we decided not to renew because we didn’t like the landlord. So I’ve been using one of the long term rental rooms at the airport, the airline keeps a bunch, until we find somewhere else.” I shrugged. “Which will hopefully be soon, I don’t like living out of a hotel.”
“Somewhere else in Orlando?” she asked.
“Yes, for now, while I do this particular international route. It may well change, that’s why I’ve never bought.” I paused, “Well, I haven’t bought property but I’ve bought plenty of other things on my travels.” I grinned.
“Oh, tell me,” she said.
“Well, clothes, handbags, shoes, makeup, jewelry, you know, nice stuff.”
“Designer?”
“Yes, lots of designer. I’m a sucker for a nice label.”
“And where do you buy your…stuff from?” she asked.
I smiled and set my knife and fork together in the center of my empty plate. “Paris, Milan, New York, Cape Town, all over the world. Tokyo is great for shopping, too, and last year we were in Sydney for a long weekend.”
Her eyes went a little dreamy. “You have such a wonderful life,” she said. “All those glamorous places.”
“It is fun.”
“Hard work, too,” Vadmir said, studying me and holding a small glass of vodka near to his lips. “When you are in the air.”
I’d already told Darya all about my job and she was equally envious of that. Quizzing me as we’d sat in the living area the evening before.
“I guess so, but I like it.”
“Serving passengers?” he said. “You like that?”
“That’s part of my job, yes, but the safety of our travelers is my first priority.”
“I bet passengers forget that and get cranky,” he said.
“Some are crankier than others.” I set my gaze on his, tipped my head and suppressed a smile. “And some don’t do what they’re told when I tell them to.”
“Really?” He feigned surprise and also looked as though he was trying not to grin.
“Yes, some go into the galley when they shouldn’t, that’s out of bounds for passengers.”
“And what do they do there, these bad passengers?” he asked.
“Get in the way, harass the crew and…” I swallowed, remembering my shock at him appearing in the galley, grabbing me and then kissing me. It seemed l
ike weeks ago now, not just days.
He knocked back his shot and set the glass down. “What else do they do wrong, Sammy?” He licked his lips. “Tell me?”
“Well, when I eventually get them to return to their seats, they just sit there, silent, brooding, sulking, thinking about…” I let my words trail off. He’d told me he’d sat on the plane thinking about bending me over, fucking me, fucking my ass. That he’d liked my tight skirt and wanted me, wanted me badly, badly enough to consider fucking me in the galley as I looked down at the earth miles below. But I couldn’t exactly say that now, not here.
His eyes sparkled. He knew exactly what I wanted to say.
“That’s what they do,” I said, “the badly behaved passengers. They sit there and watch and think.”
He shifted on his seat and pulled in a breath.
I hoped he was remembering what he’d been thinking about and then doing it later that night at the hotel. He’d shoved me against the wall and made me boneless with the strength of my climax. Afterwards he’d carried me to the bed and took what he’d wanted, sliding his cock into my darkest hole and making me come all over again then releasing his pleasure deep inside me.
He ran his finger around the collar of his roll-neck sweater and swallowed.
I smiled, and continued to study his face the way he was studying mine. Oh yeah, he was picturing it all and I’d bet my last ruble that he was as hard as yesterday with every bit as much of a problem going on in his pants.
“Would you like me to help wash up?” I asked Darya as she stood and gathered the empty bowls she’d been stacking.
“No, no, I will do it,” she said with a smile.
“Please,” I said. “I’d like to help. I could dry.”
“Well…okay, thank you. Mother will be helping my father now so I would be glad.”
“Vy mozhete peremeshchat' kislorod seychas,” Zoya said to Vadmir, standing and brushing breadcrumbs from her ample chest.
“V odno mgnoveniye.”
“Why can’t you move the oxygen now?” Darya asked, lifting Vadmir’s plate from in front of him and throwing a scowl his way. “Mother just said she needs it in the bedroom.”