by Jacey Conrad
His hand slipped under her elbow when she was halfway across the wide expanse of stone tiles that separated the theater from the line of cars in the front of the building. He said nothing as they walked, both of them mindful of the eyes of her family that watched from the glass walls of the theater’s atrium. Galina nodded to her driver who held the door open for her and Andrey. She slid inside, moving to the far side of the bench seat.
“How did you find out about Nik?” was the first thing she asked him once the driver closed the door on them.
Andrey ran a hand through his dark hair, disturbing it from its neat coif. It fell across his forehead and into his eyes, making him look younger. His steel blue eyes locked with hers and Galina felt those damn flutters begin in her belly. How could he do this to her with just a look?
“Konstantin suspected and mentioned it to me about a year ago.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. Galina’s sensitive ears picked up the sound of stubble prickling across his hand. “I just accepted it as truth. I trust Konstantin in these things.”
She turned her body to face him. “You’ve known for a year?”
He nodded, hair falling back into his eyes. “More or less.”
“And you haven’t told anyone?” Galina’s head spun. All she could think about was protecting Nikolai. She knew the organization’s feelings on same sex pairings. Nikolai could be killed if he were outed. It was part of why Papa wasn’t willing to promote him to family head, even though Alexei was clearly unsuited for the position. Papa loved Nikolai and shielded him as much as he could, but there was only so much he could do. If anyone found out, Nik would be sacrificed to maintain the appearance of machismo within the family.
Andrey put a finger under her chin. His lips were very close to hers. “Why would I tell anyone about Nikolai? I like him. He’s a good man. And Konstantin likes him.”
Galina blinked, feeling tears of relief spring to the back of her eyes. She would not cry, damn it. But the thought of Andrey knowing and not saying anything about her brother’s sexual orientation, even when it could have improved his position in the organization undid her. “Thank you,” she whispered, placing a gentle hand on his knee.
“Galina, I would never hurt Nikolai. Or you.”
She blinked, surprised by his admission. She lowered her gaze to her hand on his leg, lashes sweeping low to hide her eyes. This was more intimate than she got with anyone. She wondered how close to her apartment they were.
“How long have you known about Konstantin?” she asked, just to have something to say.
He laughed softly, a low, mellow sound. “Since we were in high school,” he admitted easily, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He lightly kissed each of her fingertips. “We were best friends, as I’ve said. I was the only one he trusted enough to tell. It was a great honor.” He licked at the pad of her index finger.
She inhaled sharply at the heat of his tongue on her hand. “You’re a good man,” she whispered, her insides twisting. She was out of her depth here.
He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. She stared into his face, searching the strong planes and angles of it for what she didn’t know. He looked tired. She reached a hand to his cheek and he nuzzled his head against her palm, eyelids dropping closed. Her fingers stretched out to stroke at his temple, brushing the hair back. “You are a good man,” she repeated.
His eyes snapped open and his head jerked out of her palm, putting them nose to nose. He smiled darkly, his eyes looking more grey than blue as he stared at her. His mouth thinned, the smile turning cruel. “But I’m not a good man, Galina.” He pulled back suddenly. “In that you are very, very mistaken.”
She caught his face in her hands, stopping his escape so he had to look at her. Carefully she moved to sit in his lap, her dress pooling around them. Her naked sex was pressed against the rough fabric covering his crotch and it took all of her self-control to not move herself up and down over him. “I think you’re mistaken.” She leaned forward, running her tongue over the hard line of his lips. She caught the look of surprise in his eyes. “And I’m the only one who matters.”
Galina claimed his mouth, showing him without words what she thought of him. For Nikolai alone, she would always be grateful. But it was more than that. She liked Andrey, and not just for the sex. He surprised her. Not many people did that anymore. His lips opened, softening beneath her kisses. She kept the pace slow, taking her time to learn the shape of his lips, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his teeth. Her hands held his head in place as she kissed him deeply, not allowing him to pull away from her.
His hands grasped at her waist spasmodically. Galina took her time, sliding her tongue around his, sucking on it until he moaned against her mouth. She felt his cock stiffen and push against the fabric of his pants, pressing against her wet pussy with every flex of her thighs as she held herself just above his lap.
She released his mouth to press her lips to the pulsing beat at his neck. She licked over it, then closed her mouth over it to tease it with her teeth. He surged up, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Fuck!” he shouted hoarsely, shaking his head. His cock spasmed against her, and Galina smiled against his neck.
Her hands worked to free him. He shuddered, dropping his head against her shoulder when her hand wrapped around his shaft. His breath gusted out of him, like he’d just run a sprint. She pressed her thumb into the slit at the head of him and he cried out. His head fell back against the backseat, eyes almost rolling back in his head. His hips pumped his cock into her hand, and Galina flexed her wrist, keeping her strokes long and even. She used her hand to spread the pre-come over his shaft, twisting her thumb over the head.
Andrey lifted his head once more, his eyes hungry and desperate. She increased her speed, feeling his hips thrusting as she drew him closer and closer to the edge of his release. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Keeping the rhythm of her strokes even, she lined up the head of him, stopping and holding the base of his cock as she lowered herself onto him.
Galina watched Andrey’s face as she slowly sheathed him within her walls. She kept a tight grip on the base of his cock to keep him from spending himself too soon. He groaned, pushing up into her blindly. She brushed hair away from his face and kissed him again as she began to move, setting the pace.
His hands clutched at her back, grabbing and pulling at her hair. Galina smiled, enjoying the cries she wrung from Andrey as she rolled her hips against him and tightened her hand around him. He growled, snapping his hips hard against her, trying to drive the rhythm to what he wanted. Galina pulled back, keeping only the head of his cock inside her, giving him a warning squeeze. This was her show to run. She wanted to do this for him, to him.
“Сладкая,” he whispered, his head dropping to her shoulder once more. He sucked gently at the space where her neck joined her shoulder. He’d just called her sweet in Russian.
“Mine,” she whispered back, sheathing him once again.
“Yours,” he agreed, moaning as her pace quickened. His eyes met hers, desire and something else burning in his gaze. He kissed her, his mouth a burning brand against her own.
She released him, raising her hand to his shoulder. He shouted into her mouth, his whole body driving forward as he plunged into her. Galina writhed against him as his cock pulsed deep inside her, his climax ripping through him suddenly. He sagged against her, and she reached back to hold the top of the headrest to keep them both upright.
“God,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. His voice was shaking.
She smiled, carding her fingers through his hair with one hand. “That’s a proper fucking,” she whispered, nibbling at his earlobe. She felt good all over, slow and lazy like a big cat after a feed. “Although I despair for the state of your tuxedo pants.”
“I really don’t give a fuck about my pants right now.” Andrey pulled her closer and she felt him slip out of her. Her dress was probably ruined
but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Andrey held her against his chest, her head tucked on his shoulder, stroking her hair and back. His head was thrown back against the head-rest, eyes closed. Galina thought he’d fallen asleep, so she lifted a hand to lightly trace his lips. His hand came up and grabbed hers, holding it loosely so she could pull away if she wanted to.
She didn’t want to.
His blue eyes cracked open. “Mmmmmm,” he hummed, sounding exhausted and pleased. “I should go to the ballet more often.”
Galina laughed softly and snuggled against him.
14
When in Doubt, Send Pastries
GALINA LOOKED UP from the catalog she was perusing at the sound of a knock at her door. A delivery man stood holding a clipboard and pen.
“There’s a delivery you need to sign for.” He held them out to her.
“Art shipments are usually signed for at the loading dock,” she told him, getting to her feet.
“It’s not an art delivery,” he said. “It’s personal. For Galina Sudenko.”
Galina cocked her head, as if she didn’t comprehend what he’d just said. Who would send her something here? While she was signing for the delivery, he lifted a huge urn of two dozen roses so dark red they were nearly black. Interspersed among the stems was aconite and wormwood. She peeked among the leaves for a card, finally finding it tucked into a particularly dense knot of aconite. When she opened it, she broke into a smile. Written on the card was one word: Yours.
Staggering a little under the weight of the arrangement, Galina she set the urn atop a bank of filing cabinets that lined one wall and picked up her phone to call Andrey.
“You got the flowers then?” His deep voice sent a shiver through her. She remembered how his voice sounded in the car last night: broken, wanting.
“I did. They’re beautiful. And the aconite and wormwood are nice touches.” She couldn’t keep the smile from her voice.
“I’m glad you like them.” She heard voices on the other end of the line. Andrey said something she didn’t catch to someone with him, then said, “I have to go. I will see you later.”
“I’m counting on it,” Galina answered. “And thank you for the flowers. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.” He hung up.
Galina spent the rest of the day arranging exchanges of collections from other museums, trying to track down a painting that had been on loan for over a year, and gathering information about several pieces likely to be up for private auction in a few months. But every time she looked up and saw the flowers from Andrey, she smiled to herself.
She locked her office behind her and made her way to her car, only to find Alexei leaning against it. Galina looked around for her security detail, but her brother must have sent them away. She narrowed her eyes, stopping some distance from Alexei. He pushed himself up from the hood of her car and folded his arms across his chest.
“I know what you’re up to,” he began without preamble.
Galina kept her face neutral, but her mind went into overdrive. Did he suspect she was looking for the stolen shipment? There’s no way Irina would have told him about what she’d discovered in Sergei’s office. Had he heard of her discrete inquiries? When it came to Alexei, she had no illusions the depths he would stoop to in order to get what he wanted. That’s why Nikolai was so busy all the time; he was the one responsible for cleaning up Alexei’s messes.
“And what would that be, besides leaving work to go see our sister?” She kept her voice level, spearing him with her gaze.
He moved closer to her, a stalk rather than a walk. Alexei was powerfully built and she had no doubt if angered he would do something stupid. Having witnesses had never bothered him before. Papa would be furious with Alexei if he really hurt her. Then she recalled the snarl on his face when he’d chased her through the woods. Perhaps Papa’s anger was no longer a deterrent to Alexei.
“Your little ‘business.’ That’s cute, by the way.” He circled her, and Galina turned to keep him in her sights. “I know you’re trying to replace me as father’s choice for head of the family.”
She didn’t try to deny it, but she wasn’t going to openly antagonize Alexei when she wasn’t in a position of power. “I just asked Papa to let me start a new line of the business. That’s it. Don’t go getting all paranoid about it.” She took another step toward her car.
Alexei blocked her, his bulky body and barrel chest intruding into her personal space. She didn’t appreciate being crowded. “You asked for a seat at the table,” he growled, eyes narrowing as he leaned in even further. “Women don’t get a seat at the table.”
In heels she was taller than Alexei, a fact which she was certain he didn’t like. She raised herself up to her full height on the stilts she liked to wear and said, “I’m not just a woman.” She was a purebred Alpha female and a prized commodity.
“You’re a bitch whose only purpose is to breed pups,” he snapped, lips pulling back from his teeth in a human version of a wolf’s snarl.
Galina jerked her head back as if he’d slapped her. He did not just say that to her. “Wow, Alexei,” she began, keeping the bone-shaking rage out of her voice, “with that kind of sweet talking it astounds me that you don’t have a bevy of women vying to be your wife.”
His hand lifted as if he were actually going to backhand her across the face. Galina raised her head high, her eyes daring him to touch her. “Go ahead then. Do it.”
They glared at each other, neither willing to back down. After several minutes of silence, Galina smiled coldly. “By the way, what was all that stuff you told Irina about her painting the world with all the colors of her soul? That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing a brother would say to his sister.”
Alexei snarled again, turned on his heel, and loped off to where his car waited. Galina watched him go, surprised to feel her knees shaking. She waited until his car pulled out of the lot and disappeared down the long, winding drive that led from the museum. “Dickhead,” she muttered before getting in her own car to go see Irina.
When Galina rang the doorbell, Irina answered it so quickly that she wondered if her sister had been waiting in ambush for her. She was dragged inside unceremoniously, only managing to get out a, “Nice to see you too,” before Irina shoved her down on the couch.
“Explain.” Irina sat down and stared at her.
“Okay, so there are clearly some developments we need to talk about,” Galina said reasonably.
“Explain,” Irina said again.
Galina smiled. “I can draw diagrams if you need visual aids,” she offered. When Irina gave her a dirty look, she put up her hands. “Okay, okay. What do you want to know?”
“How about you start when you met Andrey and end when you climaxed in the coatroom?”
Galina’s lips quirked at her sister’s choice of words. Galina had always been a fan of alliteration. “I’m going to assume you mean meeting Andrey this year and not when we were kids.”
Irina shook her head. “You met him when you were younger? Where was I?”
“Training to be a cosmonaut. I don’t know!” At Irina’s frown, she got to the point. “I saw him the night Sergei was shot—he was at Katya’s party. We kind of hooked up in the kitchen.”
“Galina!”
“Oh, don’t act so scandalized, Miss Funeral Fingerbang. We didn’t get too far because Sergei getting shot sort of killed the mood.”
Irina scowled. “Do you actually hear the words coming out of your mouth?”
Galina shrugged. “Sorry.” She leaned back against the couch cushions, sinking into it like it was made of marshmallow. “We’ve kind of been seeing each other on and off.”
“So when you say you’re seeing each other, what you really mean is seeing each other naked, right?”
Galina deadpanned, “Yes, Irina. We fuck. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s what we do.”
Irina rolled her eyes. “Well, that migh
t be a little hard to continue to do since Papa wants me to marry your boink-buddy. Hence the family outing from hell.”
“I highly doubt Andrey’s going to let that happen.” Galina smiled, remembering the car ride from the previous night.
“I wish I could be free of it all,” Irina sighed. “Franny has asked me, over and over, why I don’t just walk away, making a life away from Alexei and Papa and…everything. I’m not pack, not subject to Alpha influence. I’m an adult. I have a degree, skill and reputation enough to get a job anywhere I want. Franny doesn’t understand that no matter where I go, no matter how many layers of false identification I put up as protection, Papa would send his goons after me and drag me back. There’s no escape, nowhere to run.”
Galina allowed Irina to have her moment of misery. She figured her sister deserved a bit of wallowing, but there were limits. “I noticed that you didn’t include ‘abandoning your fabulous baby sister to a pack full of misogynist idiots’ on your list of reasons not to leave.”
Irina snickered, letting Galina nudge her with her shoulder. “Oh, you would be fine without me and you know it. You’ve always been the strong one, Galya.”
“I think you’re going to surprise yourself someday, Rina.”
Quirking her lips, Irina said, “I suppose there has to be some mettle in me, if I survived walking in on both Sudenko siblings mid-coitus.”
“Wait, who else did you walk in on besides me and Andrey?” Galina thought for a second. “Oh god, did you walk in on Alexei with one of his cocktail skanks?”
“No, it was Nik.”
Galina furrowed her brow. “Who did Nik—Konstantin! Holy crap, he got it on with Konstantin!”
“I know, it’s huge. Nik could be starting a real relationship instead of geographically convenient hook-ups,” Irina said, smiling. “I’m so proud of him, even though it’s a huge risk and it could go badly at any moment, but really…good for him. I feel like we should get him a cake or something to celebrate this momentous occasion. What kind of baked goods do you get for someone to say ‘congratulations on getting a blow job from a person you’re going to see regularly’?” She thought for a moment. “Italian cream?”