Andrei (Quintessence Book 7)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “If I’d have even imagined Sascha would be jealous, I’d have hired a man. I don’t care if they have a dick or a pussy so long as they can bring some semblance of order to my days.”

  Sawyer’s lips curved. “It’s strange.”

  “What is?” he growled.

  “How like Devon you are in some things. I think I forget because of how you present yourself to the rest of the world. He got none of the charisma, and you got bucket loads, but you are like him, aren’t you?”

  “Like what?” he grumbled, taking a step back to sit heavily in his desk chair.

  “You have tunnel vision, so Sascha is the only thing you see.” Sawyer’s smile deepened. “I shall report back to Devon that all is well.”

  He snorted. “Like Devon will even remember.”

  “He would. He was concerned about Sascha. Said she didn’t need to be worrying about you cheating on her with the help, as well as dealing with what she’s dealing with.”

  Andrei narrowed his eyes at Sawyer. “Are you intentionally trying to piss me off?”

  “Not anymore,” Sawyer said cheerfully, and just as Andrei started to hope the man would fuck off, he stepped deeper into his office. Resting his hands on the edge of the desk, he leaned over and whispered, “Did Sean tell you about the other night?”

  “Which one?” he asked coolly, well aware the bite of his accent was audible in the two words. Tough. He was pissed off. Cheating on Sascha was incomprehensible to him.

  She was the woman to him.

  There was no other.

  Didn’t Devon realize that? Didn’t Sawyer?

  “Tuesday night.” He jerked his chin up. “Said he’d tied her up, spanked her. She got off on it.”

  Andrei stiffened, all thoughts of irritation disappearing at this startling news. “She wanted that?”

  “Seems so.” Sawyer shrugged. “She’s always been a bratty little thing. She takes whatever we give her, though.”

  “But to submit?” Andrei scowled. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Talk to Sean. You know he doesn’t exactly paint pretty pictures on purpose.” He whistled. “And what a pretty picture, too.” He straightened, so he could raise his hands and rub them together. “If she’s into that kind of thing, then I’ll gladly lead her astray.”

  Andrei chuckled. “You and me both.” They shared a look. “Together?” Andrei asked.

  Sawyer shrugged. “Don’t see why not. You know Kurt and Devon don’t get off on that shit.”

  “No. I’m surprised. Devon’s such a control freak, after all.”

  “He is, and he torments her in his own particular way.”

  “You’d know,” Andrei mocked, laughing when Sawyer grimaced.

  “It will do me good to take her on with you. I’m sick of seeing the man’s bollocks.”

  He had to chuckle at that. “Don’t get used to the idea of seeing mine.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Sawyer grumbled. “The man’s an exhibitionist. I don’t know why I’m surprised I see them more than my feckin’ own.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Sean won’t share her.”

  Andrei shook his head. “Nyet.”

  “Ever wondered why?”

  “I know why.” He pursed his lips. “He’s a secretive man.”

  “Sean?” Sawyer frowned. “Hardly. The man’s an open book where Sascha is concerned.”

  “Da. But where we’re concerned? No. What happens between them will stay between them for the most part.”

  “He told me she got off on being tied up. That doesn’t sound very bluidy secretive to me!”

  “Well, it wouldn’t. He was telling you, because he knows you get off on that stuff, too, and that will please Sascha. She’s obviously going through some kind of. …”

  “Don’t say meltdown,” Sawyer said on a sigh.

  “I wasn’t going to. I was going to say renaissance. What happened has made her rethink everything, I suppose.”

  “Have you seen her kindle?”

  Andrei frowned. “No. Why would I have?”

  “I noticed it the other day. By chance. Sean mentioned it to me, too.”

  “What about it?” he growled, his impatience bleeding through.

  “I saw a few words I’ve heard you and Vasily say over the years.” He shot Andrei a knowing look. “When you’re talking about your grandfather’s work.”

  “Bratva phrases?” Andrei reared back, unsure if he was more surprised about that revelation or the fact that his PA apparently had a crush on him.

  “Aye. Pakhan. Brigadier. Shite like that.”

  “On her kindle?”

  He nodded. “She uses the family account to read. I looked it up.”

  “Why?”

  “I was curious. She likes Bratva romances, mon.”

  “Bratva. Romances.” Andrei shook his head—this time not in negation, but to shake the wool from between his ears. “That’s a juxtaposition if ever I’ve heard one. By no way, shape, or form, is anything about the Bratva romantic.”

  “Apparently a lot of women disagree with you. And, from the way Jane looks at you, and Sascha, too, I’d imagine you’re hot with the ladies. Tin’s turning into a bonny wee lad because of you. I’d imagine you’re prime spank bank material for a woman who likes that sort of thing.”

  “‘Spank bank?’” Andrei blurted out. “You think she masturbates to that stuff?”

  “Sean confirmed it.”

  “How many of the damn book does she have?”

  Sawyer jerked a shoulder. “I don’t know. Why would I? But . . . might be wise to—”

  “Role play?” Andrei knew if his eyes grew any wider, he’d start looking like Tin when he thought the Devon-sized stack of pancakes was his.

  “Don’t see why not. Bring the lass out of herself.” Sawyer grinned. “She might enjoy it.”

  “But would I?” Andrei countered. “That life is not romantic, Sawyer.”

  “It’s a fantasy, Andrei. Give it to her. You’re the one in the unique position of being able to do so.”

  “I suppose so,” he murmured, his tone heavy. As he reached up to rub his chin, Sawyer moved away from his desk toward the open doorway.

  “What are you going to do about Jane?”

  “Do?” Andrei’s scowl deepened. “Why do I have to do anything about her?”

  “Because the way she looks at you. . . .” Sawyer shook his head. “She’ll come onto you sure enough. You’re not claimed, mon. She doesnae know that you’re Sascha’s. She’ll think you’re fair game and will make things awkward for you. Trust me. I know you’ve got that tunnel vision, but listen to a mon who doesnae, and who kens how women think.”

  Andrei scowled at that. “Bullshit. Since when do you know how women think?”

  “Since I grew into my biceps, Andrei,” Sawyer joked. “Just because I’m not interested, doesnae mean they’re not interested in me.”

  Discomfited by the conversation, he grumbled, “See, my faith in you is absolute. You don’t hear me asking whether you’ve acted on any of those offers.”

  “No. You’re right.” He dipped his head. “My apologies, brother.”

  Andrei sniffed. “I understand you’re coming from a good place. I’ll speak with Jane.” He grimaced. “It doesn’t seem fair to fire her. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “Not yet,” Sawyer warned as he headed out of the office, not even giving him a backwards glance.

  Was this a parallel universe?

  He thought about Jane, tried to picture her in his mind’s eye but realized that he couldn’t, in all honesty, even do that. He thought she had brown hair, but it could easily have been blonde.

  Then, he shrugged thoughts of his PA aside and turned his focus back to the schedule. Better that than the bizarre knowledge that Sascha thought the Bratva was sexy.

  They were due in Moscow in just under eighteen days. In that time, they had to close the house up, have their things packed for not only Russia but their
extended stay in Veronia, too. Knowing that Devon did hate to fly, he’d tried to narrow things down for him by flying straight to Moscow, then onto Madela in Veronia immediately afterward.

  That presented a logistical problem considering there were six adults and a small boy to pack up. Truth was, he’d been enjoying making the arrangements. Sascha was predictably antsy about leaving these issues in the hands of others. And, as they led relatively sedate lives, their security wasn’t as rigid as it could have been if they’d been in the public eye more.

  Considering Kurt’s sudden swell of fame, guards or extra security might become a necessity in the future. He’d made his name as the reclusive German author, however, so Andrei didn’t think that was something Kurt was about to change, but he’d discuss the situation with his grandfather before he left for Veronia.

  If anyone knew which company was the best to hire, it was Vasily.

  As he checked into their flights, he stared at Sascha’s name on the screen.

  Was she really jealous?

  Where had that even come from?

  He wasn’t sure, and taking into account this sudden need to be dominated, it heralded several questions in a conversation he’d prefer to have sooner rather than later.

  When the bedroom door closed behind him, Sascha cocked a brow at Andrei. “This isn’t your room.”

  He cocked a brow right back at her. “I know it isn’t.”

  She snorted. “Since when do you play musical bedrooms?”

  “Since tonight.” He grinned at her. “I thought we’d play tonight.”

  “Play what?” His grin deepened, and she jerked back in surprise. “He told you,” she said on a whisper.

  “Don’t be mad,” Andrei murmured, stepping deeper into Kurt’s bedroom as he held up his hands in entreaty. “Not at him or us.”

  “I don’t know if I’m mad or just disappointed.”

  He grimaced. “I’m not sure which is worse.”

  “Good.” She blew out a breath as she folded her arms across her chest. “What did he tell you?”

  He shrugged, aware that he needed to be careful here—Sean hadn’t technically told him anything, after all. “I’ve learned that you like to play games.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re serious? That’s what he said?” At his nod, she growled, “Yes, Andrei, I love playing Jenga in bed.”

  When he just laughed, she glowered back at him, and he murmured, “So angry, Sascha. Why? Is it based in embarrassment or fear?”

  That had her stiffening, in more ways than one—he saw her nipples peak to attention through the silk chemise she’d worn to bed. A good portent, he thought, of things to come.

  “How would you like it if I talked about what we did with Sean?”

  Again, he shrugged, and sincerely, he told her, “If I thought whatever you shared would enhance my pleasure, I wouldn’t mind.”

  “And that’s why he told you?” she demanded, but her voice was squeaky. “To enhance my pleasure?”

  He grimaced at the mocking bite to the words. “Yes.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because Sean isn’t the only one who likes to play games.”

  “Stop calling it that,” she snapped. “We didn’t play Monopoly, Andrei. Nor did he lock me up in his dungeon.” She huffed. “Unless, let me guess, you’re all so into playing games that you have one locked up tight somewhere in the house.”

  “We thought about it for a while,” he admitted, satisfied as her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “Not a dungeon, of course. More like a playroom.”

  “What?” she outright yelled this time. “When?”

  “With the third woman we shared.” He wafted a hand, not wanting to get into that. “Remember, most of our partners viewed us as an avenue for sexual exploration. Did you think we wouldn’t use them back?”

  “N-No,” she stuttered, but she dropped her gaze to his mouth as she did. Why, he wasn’t sure. “But, I mean, I didn’t think. . . .”

  “You didn’t know. Why would you? We don’t talk about it.”

  “B-But, who?”

  “Sean, Sawyer, myself. Kurt isn’t interested. He has his own quirks, of course. He did enjoy watching us at work. Devon, not so much.”

  Her mouth rounded into the most perfect, most beautiful O. “N-No,” she agreed.

  He pursed his lips. “If you only want that with Sean. …” He let the words drift off and was satisfied when she scampered out from between the sheets. Her silk chemise pulled taut against her slimmer body, and he realized then that he missed her curves.

  She hadn’t been looking after herself, he noticed, and he knew that was about to become a problem.

  “No!” she repeated, her hands darting forward, so she could tuck them between his own. “I-I, well, I guess it came as a surprise that Sean would share something like that, but I do want it.” She swallowed. “I think I need it.”

  “Why? You didn’t before.” He cocked a brow at her. “You were content with our busy sex lives two months ago.”

  “Yeah.” She wriggled, the muscles in her thighs suddenly straining. “But, I liked it when you—”

  He let her pause for an indeterminate length of time, then prompted, “When I, what?” He reached up to cup her cheek a second, then he trailed the backs of his fingers down the side of her jaw. When he cupped her throat, she made a mewling noise that startled him into a quirking a brow at her. “When I, what?” he asked again, his thumb pressing down against the soft flesh in his grip.

  “This,” she rasped, arousal making her words husky. “I loved this. I loved when you got rough with me. I loved being spanked by Sawyer, or when Devon would pin me to the bed.” She shuddered, and with her free hand, cupped his wrist. “I loved you tying me down and fucking me. It’s been growing. This need. These urges. And now? Now, I don’t want to think. I just want to feel. I want to feel like me again. Sexy and satisfied. I need you to guide me in that.”

  His eyes went to half-mast at that as he processed her words. “I said to Sawyer this morning that you’d gone through a renaissance. I don’t want you to regret it, Sascha.”

  She blinked up at him with such trust on her face, he felt his very heart quiver in his chest. “I wouldn’t, Andrei. Anything I don’t like we don’t have to do again. And you’re right. This has been a learning curve for me. It’s been. …” She bit her lip. “We didn’t have it easy at the start. What with the situation with the Jacobies. But, our life has been basically content. I feel like this is the first stumbling block. Almost like this has torn the blindfold from my eyes and has revealed that I am, actually, an adult.”

  “You were before, katyonok.”

  “I know, but this time I feel differently.” She shrugged. “I just . . . I need something different. Maybe I’m opening the door to something that I’ll regret, but we’re always changing, aren’t we? Growing. I’d prefer for us to grow together than to grow apart.”

  “Of course, but what if we do something you don’t like? Something you don’t expect?”

  “I won’t hold it against you,” she reasoned. “Why would I? I want this. More than I realized.” She reached up, and he saw there was a bruise on her shoulder. She lowered the strap and the silk gaped, revealing her tits, but that hadn’t been her intent. “Sean bit me. You can’t. …” Sascha shook her head as her fingers trailed over the mark. “I didn’t realize until recently how badly it was affecting me not being known as yours, and you not being known as mine. I like this. I feel claimed.”

  He frowned. “But you are ours.”

  “Jane doesn’t know that,” she whispered. “Jennifer Houghton, the female lead in Kurt’s movie, she doesn’t know that. Nobody does. Dreyford, the male lead, was coming onto me in front of Kurt because he doesn’t realize I’m somebody’s. This,” she whispered, rubbing the bitemark. “Makes me feel claimed.”

  He’d never realized how the lack of a legal, open, and binding acknowledgment affected
her. But, of course, he knew and understood the strain of having to be careful about discussing what they were to one another. It was irritating as fuck, especially as she was simply theirs in all their eyes.

  Did she need a ring?

  Would that make her feel better?

  Or was her traditional upbringing making waves with this very non-traditional relationship she was in?

  He reached over and touched the mark. “You like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t it hurt?”

  “It felt good. Right.” She licked her lips. “And when I feel. . . .” Sascha broke off, “weird, then I touch it and I feel better.”

  He scowled at that. The bite mark wasn’t a damn talisman.

  His major concern was their leading her into something she couldn’t handle. Something she was only broaching now because so many things were up in the air for her. She wasn’t content with being in London, wanted to move to the country, maybe? And now this?

  Was it too much?

  Would exploring this new side of her be exploiting her?

  Then, she reached up and tugged at the other strap of her chemise. When the silk pooled at her waist, he whispered, “You’ve lost weight.”

  “I know.”

  “This. . . .” He licked his lips. “I’m not like Sean.”

  “I never thought you were.”

  But he shook his head. “Sean leaves it in the bedroom. I can’t.”

  She reached over and grabbed his hand. “Whatever you need.”

  “No. You don’t understand.” He forced himself to get the words out because, once he opened Pandora’s box, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to close it. “You’re playing at the moment. That’s why I’ve been using that verb. But I don’t want to play. If I open myself to this, I’ll want it all the time.”

  “That means you’ve needed it since we’ve been together.” Her tone was flat, then he saw the heat in her eyes. “Damn you, Andrei. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me I wasn’t pleasing you?”

  He let out a growl. “Because you were pleasing me. I’ve never been so sexually satisfied in all my life, Sascha,” he gritted out, then, he was amused because she preened at that, her chin soaring high with delight at his words.

  “If you need this, then I need it, too,” she murmured, scurrying closer to him. With her hair in a topknot and the silk settling around her hips after she’d moved, he realized how young she looked. Yes, there were shadows under her eyes, and yes, she did have some tiny frown lines, but she looked like an angel sitting there with curls tumbling around her throat.