Russian Lullaby

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Russian Lullaby Page 10

by Holly Bargo


  “Boys, please,” Gia begged. “Stop, just stop.” She glared at both of them, more than aware that they’d acquired an audience. She hissed, “There will be no litigation and no bodily harm. Just quit it and behave yourselves.”

  “Are you finished with your theatrics, Miss Bonetti?” the professor’s nasal voice filled the classroom. “Because this really isn’t the place for it.”

  “Oh, God,” she muttered as embarrassment flooded her. Looking up and knowing that her face had flushed deep red with mortification, she replied, “Yes, Dr. Fabelo. We’ve settled our little discussion.”

  “Good. I’ll tolerate no further disruption in my classroom, Miss Bonetti.”

  “That’s Mrs. Synvolka,” Vitaly’s voice corrected in a quiet tone.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Giancarla married last week. Her family name is now Synvolka.”

  “And you are?”

  “Vitaly Synvolka.”

  “And you are here why?”

  “To protect my wife from punks like this boy.”

  “Mr. Synvolka, there is no need for such drama in the classroom. Miss…er…Mrs. Synvolka is perfectly safe here. The campus is quite secure.”

  Vitaly merely raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. He gestured with one hand. “Please continue, professor.”

  “By your leave,” the professor replied with curled lip and a sneer of contempt and commenced the day’s instruction.

  As with the earlier class, Gia took copious notes in an attempt to catch up on the previous week’s missed material. When the class ended, the professor called out, “Please see me before heading off to collect your samples, Mrs. Synvolka.”

  Feeling as though she were being summoned for punishment, Gia had to force herself not to drag her feet as she approached the professor. He peered over his glasses at her and said sternly, “Gia, we cannot tolerate continued disruption of class. You missed several days last week and, frankly, I doubt you’ll be able to catch up.” He sighed and directed a disapproving look at Vitaly, who ignored it as well as the lingering glances that several of Gia’s female classmates directed at him. “I understand you cannot be held responsible for the actions of others, but I must demand that your husband refrain from accompanying you any further. He’s a distraction.”

  “I’ll speak with him, Dr. Fabelo.”

  “See that you do.” He glanced at his watch. “Now get out of here. You’re due back in the laboratory in less than one hour.”

  “Yes, Dr. Fabelo.”

  Vitaly gathered her belongings in one hand and put his other hand at the base of her spine as he guided her out of the classroom where another young man waited. That student directed a nervous glance at his lab partner’s companion and offered a nervous smile.

  “Er, he’s not going to pummel me, is he?”

  “Thanks for waiting, Jeremy.” She sent a hard glance at Vitaly, whose shoulders moved in an infinitesimal shrug. “No, he won’t be pummeling you or anybody else.”

  “Good,” Jeremy blurted his relief, although he didn’t relax much. “My car’s parked nearby. Are you ready?”

  “We’ll take my car,” Vitaly stated.

  “But—”

  “Your car is the rusty little Beetle, da?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “It is not suitable. You may ride with us.”

  Jeremy opened his mouth to protest, but Gia gave him a tiny shake of her head. So, he gulped back the words and replaced them with mild acquiescence.

  “Do you have your sampling supplies?” he asked his laboratory partner.

  “They’re in the car,” she replied.

  “Okay. If you’ll give me a minute to fetch mine?”

  “Sure. We’ll wait for you.”

  In short order, Jeremy eased in the back seat of Vitaly’s car, which was far superior to his. He stuttered twice in an attempt to initiate polite conversation, but both attempts failed miserably. He subsided in uncomfortable silence and hoped that this rough looking man who said he was his lab partner’s husband wouldn’t murder him and dispose of his body in the depths of the lake. The black Mercedes rolled to a stop.

  “Let’s do this,” Gia announced, then cast a hard look at Vitaly. “And you stay put.”

  Jeremy gaped at her audacity in ordering the tattooed thug to stay in the car. He held back a second, cringing against the barely restrained violence in the bigger man’s hard muscles and behind the dangerous looking tattoos with expectation that a nasty blow was coming. But the big man merely chuckled and said “Nyet, Giancarla. I will be beside you.”

  Giancarla huffed, but did not protest further. She gathered her sampling equipment and tumbled out of the car. Jeremy rushed after her, fumbling with his own stuff. The two students walked out on the pier and, notebooks out with pens ready, they dipped beakers on extended handles into the water. Vitaly stood several feet away, giving them a little privacy to discuss matters in which he had no interest.

  His eagle eyes saw nothing untoward and half an hour later the two students were ready to return to the laboratory. Jeremy uneasily glanced back at the big, tattooed thug who insisted on accompanying them into the building, but took small comfort in the man’s presence deterring the more obnoxious classmates who liked to harass him. Vitaly perched on a stool in the corner of the large room, positioning himself so that he could easily detain anyone who entered the room through the door nearest his wife and have a clear view of the other door as well as the entire room. He glanced periodically through the large, plate glass windows, noting the passage of students and faculty on the sidewalk running alongside the building. He saw people gather, talk, and drift off in the easy, casual way of college coeds meeting friends and acquaintances before heading off to their next classes or other activities.

  He’d had dreams, once, of being part of their number. But he was not one to waste energy on regrets. What was past was past and could not be changed. He could only look to improve upon his future and his future contained a certain dark-haired, myopic woman who made his cold, hard heart melt like chocolate under the summer sun.

  As he watched over his wife and her laboratory partner, Vitaly idly wondered why this particular young woman affected him to such an extent. He’d felt sympathy for other young women, those who’d been trapped in the degrading grind of human trafficking, those who’d merely suffered from being downtrodden and stricken by poverty. He’d taken more beautiful women to his bed. Some of them had been very intelligent.

  After a moment, he decided it was because, beneath the intelligence and determination to succeed, Giancarla lacked that hardness, that sharp edge. He rummaged through his multilingual vocabulary and found the word: kind. His Giancarla was kind. He mused that Olivia, too, was kind and that was why Maksim valued her so highly.

  “Eureka!” Gia exclaimed, drawing Vitaly’s sharp attention.

  “Hot damn!” Jeremy crowed with glee. He set his hands on Gia’s shoulders and, practically bouncing on his toes, said, “We did it! We proved our hypothesis!”

  Vitaly’s narrow gaze focused on the young man’s hands. Jeremy caught that gaze and abruptly released his partner. “Um, sorry about that,” he apologized, cleared his throat, and clasped his hands behind his back. “We just got a little carried away. No harm done, you know.”

  “Vitaly’s not going to beat you up, Jeremy.” She looked back at the test tubes and their combined notes. “This is incredible. Newsworthy even.”

  “Newsworthy?”

  “You bet! There have been rumors about skewed oncology of the lake affecting dominant species of fish, but no one’s been able to prove it. We just did. It’s not just a few frogs that have mutated.” She grinned with excitement. “This could affect the lake’s entire commercial fishing industry. This is big, Jeremy. Big!”

  Vitaly wracked his brain to remember whether Maksim had any interest in the regional fishing industry. He didn’t think his boss did, but then Maksim didn’t tell him everything
. Giuseppe Maglione might have interest, though, which could pose problems.

  “Should we go to the press with this?” Jeremy asked.

  “No,” Vitaly said firmly. “You write your paper and turn it in. Then you repeat the experiment. If you can repeat the results, then you go to the EPA.”

  “I can’t say I’ve a lot of faith in the EPA correcting this problem,” Gia griped.

  “Nonetheless, your findings will threaten many large and powerful financial interests. You’re already in enough danger.”

  “This is bigger than me, Vitaly. This affects tens of thousands of people.”

  “All the more reason for subtlety. I cannot protect you from an entire populace.”

  “Wow,” Jeremy breathed. “You know, the big guy’s right. If we broke this to the press, you’d have to move.”

  “I have to do the right thing, Jeremy. You should, too.”

  The young man wavered, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Do you think your boyfriend can keep me safe, too?”

  “Husband,” Vitaly spat.

  “Huh?”

  “Husband. Giancarla is mine.”

  Gia just sighed and shook her head. She no longer feared him, but she did fear she’d never change his Neanderthal attitude of possession when it came to their relationship.

  “Let’s get this wrapped up, Jeremy. You want to take first crack at drafting the paper or shall I?”

  “You’re better at all the grammar and stuff,” Jeremy answered as he collected beakers and test tubes to wash. “I’ll write a rough draft tonight and send you the link. You can then edit, correct anything I misstate, and add anything I omitted.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The team efficiently cleaned up their work, restoring the equipment to immaculate condition ready for the next round of academic experimentation.

  “Vitaly, would you mind dropping Jeremy off at his apartment?” Gia asked as she and her lab partner gathered their notes.

  He shook his head and asked where the young man lived. Jeremy flashed a grateful smile and gave his address. “It’ll be nice not to have to catch the bus,” he commented, not minding that he’d be leaving his piece of shit cart overnight in the parking lot. If he were lucky, someone would steal the old rust bucket.

  The drive to Jeremy’s apartment didn’t take all that long. On the way back, Vitaly veered into a parking lot.

  “Why are we here?”

  “We need groceries.”

  Ah. Simple answer. Sometimes the obvious answer was the correct one.

  An hour later having loaded several days’ worth of food into the car, they drove back. Gia helped put their groceries away, learning the layout of Vitaly’s kitchen.

  “I can cook supper tonight if you like,” she offered. “I’m not quite as good a Cecily, but she’s had a positive influence on my kitchen skills.”

  “Sounds good,” he grunted in reply as he watched her bend over to put a couple cartons of ice cream in the bottom freezer cabinet of the refrigerator. The denim covering her ass strained across the firm, plump flesh. The sight made his mouth water.

  Damn it, she’d teased him all day without evening knowing it. Those jeans showcased her butt, the neckline of her shirt gaped and offered an intriguing glance of satiny skin when she leaned, her lips pursed in unconscious invitation as she chewed on the end of her pen.

  It was a wonder that he’d managed to contain himself thus far that day.

  “What time do you want to eat?” she asked as she shoved a container of basmati rice into a cabinet.

  “Now,” he growled.

  “Huh? What?”

  She looked up at him and saw his lustful expression. Right before her eyes, he seemed to expand, broad shoulders growing wider, big muscles growing larger. The front of his pants strained against the pressure of his erection.

  “Oh!”

  He approached. No, that was too tame a word. He stalked her like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. His nostrils flared, the sight of which stirred a warm fluttering low in her belly. She shifted her weight, felt the urge to squeeze her thighs together. Or maybe open them wide instead.

  “Vitaly?”

  And he was there. His arm swooped out and caught her, pulled her against his body. His other hand fisted her hair and angled her head back. His mouth delicately tasted hers when she’d expected him to crush her. The soft, light touch utterly melted any resistance, not to mention the bones in her legs. She sagged against him.

  “I need you,” he said, his voice guttural.

  “Yes,” she agreed as he swooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  He gently lay her down and followed her, fingers deftly unbuttoning her shirt even as he kissed her mouth, her neck, her—oh, my God—nipple! His mouth soaked the fabric of her plain, utilitarian bra. She arched beneath him, unwittingly offering him all of her. A moment later, he dragged down the cups to suckle on the bare flesh while she whimpered with pleasure. He wedged his hand beneath her and unfastened her bra, quickly removing the garment from her body and tossing it aside. He didn’t particularly care where it landed. With the expanse of satiny skin and pliant flesh revealed to him, he stroked and tasted until she writhed beneath him.

  It wasn’t enough. He tore off his shirt and her hands immediately landed on his chest, palms flat, fingers splayed. They roamed over him, flicking his small nipples, tracing the scars, smoothing across the bulge and dip of hard muscle.

  The constraint of his pants hurt. With savage yanks, Vitaly wrenched open the fly and shoved them down to give his aching, tumescent dick the freedom it needed to stretch and expand to full length and width. It jerked and bobbed in its eagerness to find a new home within the wet velvet depths of his wife’s body.

  He groaned when her soft hands wrapped around him. She stroked him from root to tip, swiping her thumbs over the bulbous purple head, smoothing the pre-cum that seeped from the small divot at the tip. She brought her thumb to her mouth to taste him and he groaned again, using that momentary distraction to unfasten her jeans and yank them off. He made sure to pull her plain cotton panties down her legs, too. A few seconds later, he’d pulled off her shoes and socks and tossed them aside. Then her jeans and underwear went flying.

  Vitaly crawled between her legs and ran his tongue over her ankle and calf. He grabbed hold of one thigh, the thumb of that hand stroking the moist delicate flesh at her core. She whimpered again, but he continued to lick and kiss a path up the other leg. When he reached the top of that leg, he pressed an openmouthed kiss at the crease of her hip, at the edge of the triangle of curls guarding her sex. Then he switched hands and began the process with the other leg while she clutched the bed linens because she couldn’t grab hold of him.

  When he reached the apex of the second leg, he swiped his flattened tongue along the length of her slit, gathering her moisture for a full taste. She cried out, her back arched. She screamed when he sealed his mouth over her sex and did wicked things with his tongue that no romance book could adequately describe—at least none that she’d ever read.

  She bucked beneath him. He held her down. Her thighs clamped and quivered, but his broad body held them open. She screamed his name and he drank the gush of fluids that her body gifted him.

  “Let me touch you, please,” she begged.

  He moved over her, his mouth never abandoning her, until he could roll his hips and dip his cock between her lips. She opened wide, folding her lips over her teeth. Grasping the thick stalk, she stroked and tugged and guided his penetration while she used lips and tongue to return the pleasure he gave her.

  He relentlessly drove her to another climax, not letting up until her body lay boneless and relaxed beneath him. He pulled himself from her lax grasp and turned around. With his arms, he folded her legs, opening her wide to his possession. Leaning against her bent legs, he flexed his hips and positioned himself at her opening. Vitaly bent his head down to kiss her as he sank his cock into her body wit
h the long, drawn out squelching sound of wet flesh. When his balls were pressed between his body and hers, he finally stopped and held himself there. He enjoyed the wet, warm clutch of her passage rippling around him. She delighted in the deliciously full sensation of his intimate occupation.

  He kissed her again, spearing his tongue into her mouth, twining it with hers as he moved his hips in ancient, instinctual rhythm. Soon, all too soon, she cried out as he wrung another climax from her. Gia protested with an inarticulate howl when he withdrew from her and then howled again when he turned her to her side and spooned her from behind. Raising her leg, he thrust into her again. In that position, he was still able to deeply penetrate her and could increase the pace.

  Vitaly wrapped his other arm around her upper body, one hand enveloping her breast as he simultaneously restrained her, fondled her, and fucked her. He broke the fast, relentless rhythm with long, slow strokes that bottomed out with an extra push. Then he would speed up. Never quite knowing what he would do triggered yet another release that bathed his cock in slick moisture.

  Without disengaging from her, he repositioned her so that her chest rested on the bed while he held her ass up. The familiar tingle at the base of his spine accompanied the tightness of his balls as they drew up and clenched upon themselves. Pounding into her body, the loud slap of his skin against hers nearly drowned out his grunts and her moans. With the unleashing of his own orgasm, his thrusts turned erratic and he strained to penetrate her as deeply as he possibly could.

  The hot spurts of his semen inside her catapulted Gia into a long, rolling wave of pleasure that rolled over her like the incoming tide. She felt the sticky wetness of their lovemaking coating her inner thighs, adding to the slick sheen of sweat that enabled their bodies to slide easily against each other.

  After a long moment, Vitaly seemed to come to his senses and realize that he lay draped over her. Pressing kisses against the back of her neck and shoulders, he raised himself off her and reluctantly pulled from the wet clutch of her pussy.

  “That was…” Her voice faded. Words failed her.

  “Not enough,” he finished the sentence as he rolled onto the mattress beside her. “But I need a few minutes to recover.”

 

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