by Ava Bloom
Alexei gaped at me for a moment, like he thought I was serious. Then, he burst out laughing. “Yulia, if I’d wanted that from you, I would have dragged you kicking and screaming to Barcelona with me,” he said, shaking his head.
“You really think you could have done that?” I asked.
Alexei stared at me for a moment, not answering. Finally, he shrugged. “Do you remember that winter in Petersburg when you were obsessed with making pelmeni?” he asked suddenly. “I swear, some afternoons I’d come, and every available surface in our apartment was covered in flour—at least, the surfaces that weren’t covered with pelmeni themselves, sitting out waiting for you to finish pinching the edges closed or else waiting to be put into the freezer…”
“I thought you liked pelmeni!” I said. “And I was experimenting with different flavors, remember. My mother only ever made meat dumplings—I guess because that’s what my father liked.”
“I thought we were never going to be rid of them all,” Alexei said dramatically, putting a hand over his heart.
I laughed and threw a handful of flour at him. “You ate them like there was no tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“And I gained twenty pounds that winter,” Alexei lamented. “I’ve never been as skinny again.”
“Good!” I said, still giggling. “You were scrawny when we first moved in together. You’re a lot sexier now.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and when I looked over at Alexei, one hand clapped over my mouth, I saw he was looking at me with surprise in his expression. That quickly melted into slyness. “Oh I am?” he asked teasingly. His eyes licked over my body, and I could feel my panties dampen even at something as tame as that. “You’re pretty sexy now, yourself.”
I looked down at myself. I had pulled on one of his sweaters over my dress after we’d come in from the beach, complaining that I was chilly in my sheer dress from the night before. I knew my hair was probably a mess, and last night’s makeup was probably smeared all over the place.
I raised an eyebrow at Alexei, and he growled. “Get over here,” he said, moving like lightning to catch me and drag me away from the stove, over onto his lap.
I felt all the air rush out of me as he pulled me against his warm body.
Alexei stared at me consideringly, and it was like he hadn’t thought this far ahead, like he didn’t know what he planned to do now that he had me on his lap. But he recovered quickly enough, reaching over to grab a fork and feed me a bite of pirozhki.
I smiled as I chewed, reaching over with my fingers to grab one of the smoked salmon appetizers and holding it up to his mouth. He took a bite, lightly sucking on my fingers as he did so, and I shifted on his lap, suddenly more turned on than I could remember ever being.
Alexei’s eyes darkened, but all he did was feed me another bite of food. I could barely taste it.
“Alexei,” I said, my voice sounding fragile to my own ears. In fact, I could barely hear myself above the rushing of my pulse, the thumping beat of my heart.
Alexei stood suddenly, pulling me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he easily carried me towards the counter, setting me down for just a second while he turned off all the stove burners in a very deliberate manner. I could tell he was giving me time to stop him, to tell him that I needed to get back to cooking or that I wasn’t interested in this.
But we had both reached the breaking point by now. We had been dancing around this all day, both trying to hold back, reminding ourselves that I would be leaving the following morning. Now, our passion had reached a crescendo, a fever-pitch that neither of us could ignore any longer.
So I didn’t say anything, and Alexei grinned as he picked me up again, carrying me out of the kitchen and up the stairs as though I weighed nothing. He brought me into a bedroom and set me down on the bed, already starting to undress me, peeling the clothing from my body. My fingers clumsily fumbled with his belt, knocking into his hands as they worked at the front clasp on my bra.
We were both laughing by the time we tumbled together, naked into bed—and it was one of the things that I had always liked about going to bed with Alexei. It was always…fun. We were infinitely comfortable with one another, and there was no second-guessing, no feeling self-conscious, nothing serious about it.
Alexei skimmed his fingers down my sides and I giggled, pulling away. “That tickles!” I told him.
Alexei pressed a kiss to my collarbone. “Sorry,” he said, looking unrepentant as he did the same thing again.
I wrapped my legs around him and used the bed as leverage to roll him over onto his back, the element of surprise on my favor even though he was much stronger than me. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Where’d you learn that one?” he asked.
I shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and rocking my pelvis against his. I could feel the slow drag of his penis between my folds—not inside of me yet but still so close. I repeated the motion, gasping when he rocked up against me, giving me much-needed pressure against my clit.
Alexei grinned at me and brought his fingers in between my legs to play with my needy nub. I moaned and fell forwards, throwing out my arms on either side of his head to support myself as I continued to rock down against him.
Slowly, I dragged my nails down his chest, delighting in the way Alexei shuddered beneath me. There was something animalistic about marking him like that. The red lines stood out against his skin for a moment before fading to white. I dipped my hand lower, grasping his member, feeling him hot and heavy in my palm. I closed my fingers around him, tugging at the fleshy skin.
The thing was, I could still remember what he liked, after all these years. The way his mouth fell open with a ragged breath when I pressed my thumb against the underside of his tip. The way his eyes slid shut as I thumbed at a bead of precum gathering at his slit. I smeared the slippery fluid around, giving a few firm tugs of his full length, drawing a groan out of him.
Alexei’s eyes opened again, and he placed his hand over mine, guiding his member until it was pressed up against my entrance. I lowered myself down onto his length, trembling with the need to move faster even as I fought to slow my movements, wanting to tease him further.
All thoughts of teasing him went out of my mind, though, when I shifted, lifting myself up on my knees and dropping back down. I could feel him all the way through me, spearing deep into my core, and I knew I wasn’t going to last long. “Please,” I whimpered, shakily repeating the movement and then falling back forwards, already so close to cumming that I could barely find any sort of rhythm.
Alexei growled and took over, his hands grasping my ass as he thrust up into me with short, sharp movements that hit that spot inside of me over and over again. I cried out his name, helpless with pleasure, and Alexei smiled smugly.
Suddenly, he was the one shifting us, flipping me around so that I was on my back. He pushed into me again and again—before suddenly slowing, his movements becoming tender and gentle. He stroked my cheek and I realized that there were tears slipping down them.
“Is this okay?” Alexei asked, slowing even more.
I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. “It’s just…I need this, Alyosha. So badly. Please. Please, please-“ I broke off with a gasp as he thrust hard into me.
Alexei’s eyes darkened, and he repeated the motion: one quick snap of his hips. He filled me, completed me, hit places deep inside of me that no one else had ever managed to touch. My fingers clenched around his biceps as I moved into his next thrust, crying out with pleasure at the force of it.
My hands fell back to either side, fingers twisting in the expensive silk sheets. I moaned on each thrust, my pleasure spiking higher and higher until I was sure that I would be consumed by it. I could barely breathe with how badly I needed this.
Despite the force behind his thrusts, Alexei continued to be gentle with me, his tender touches a surprising counterpoint to each movement of his hips. He touched my breasts, his fingers
swirling around my nipples and then cupping the fullness of each one, squeezing gently. Then, he slid his hands lower along my sides. There was no tickling now; now, each gentle touch sent shivers of fire through me.
The heat coalesced suddenly in my core, the walls of my pussy clenching tightly around him as I cried out one last time, practically screaming out his name as I climaxed. I shuddered against the sheets as he continued to work my body, pumping into me again and again--until he came as well, with a muted groan.
He collapsed down on me, and I wrapped my arms around him, still feeling strangely fragile, as though there were something between us that would break if I even so much as breathed.
Eventually, Alexei pulled out of me and rolled to the side, staring up at the ceiling. Once, he would have reached for me. Once, I would have reached for him. But this time, it seemed we were all too aware of what had come before this, and what was to happen next.
I slipped out of bed and grabbed my dress, bra, and panties, tugging them on haphazardly. My fingers lingered against his warm sweater, and I wanted nothing more than to pull it on, to breathe in his scent and to imagine that he was holding me against him, his body warm against mine.
But I wasn’t allowed to have that. I would leave Barcelona the following morning, and we would return to never talking, never seeing one another.
I swallowed hard, hating that that was how things had to be between us. Who ever would have thought we would end up here?, I thought bitterly.
I folded the sweater and laid it at the foot of the bed, carefully avoiding eye contact with Alexei. At the doorway, though, I paused, looking back at him. Alexei was watching me from the bed, and I could tell he was trying to catalog every movement that I made, every inch of my body. I turned away, feeling something ache inside of me.
I’d never thought that he left because he wanted to. I knew this hurt as much for him as it did for me.
But I just didn’t know how to fix it.
“Yulia,” Alexei said, and for a moment, it seemed as though my name hung in the air between us, an almost tangible thing. A prayer or a curse, I wasn’t sure which.
I rested my hand against the doorframe, using the smooth wood to anchor me to the present. “I have to get back to the hotel. To pack,” I told him. “We leave early in the morning.”
“I know,” Alexei said.
I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t have the words either.
Or rather, maybe he didn’t dare say the words either. Because I knew exactly what I wanted to say: I love you. Take care of yourself. Come home with me.
I couldn’t say any of those things, though. It wouldn’t be fair to him. I couldn’t ask him to leave his family and his life here in Spain, any more than he could ask me to leave my home or my career in Russia.
“Goodbye, Alexei,” I finally said.
“Goodbye, Yulia,” Alexei said, his voice painfully gentle.
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I hurried out of the room, out of the house, so that he wouldn’t see them fall. This was nothing new, losing Alexei. I’d already lost him for good, years ago.
9
Alexei
I couldn’t eat that night. I went down to the kitchen, looking around at the food that Yulia had made, at the food that she’d been in the process of making when we’d…
I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat and began to put everything into containers that I could put into either the fridge or freezer. I didn’t know if I was ever going to have the stomach for any of it, but if nothing else, I could bring it to one of the family dinners and pawn it off on my cousins.
I couldn’t stop thinking about life with Yulia before. That tiny apartment that we’d shared in St. Petersburg, full of so much love. For a moment, she had filled my home in Barcelona with that same light and life. Watching her walk away, take all of that with her…
I couldn’t sleep that night. I lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to get her out of my mind. My body was physically exhausted. Sated in a way that I had never felt before. The sex between Yulia and I had always been fantastic, but this… I didn’t know if it was the poignancy, the knowledge that this might be the last time we ever saw one another or-
But no, this couldn’t be the last time that we ever saw one another. I couldn’t let her go, not again.
The following morning, I chugged down a mug of dark coffee and climbed into my car, driving out to the airport. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say to her. All I knew was that I couldn’t lose her.
I sat at the entrance to the airport, waiting for her to show up with her father, worried that I might have somehow already missed them, that she might be beyond security and out of my reach.
But there she was, getting out of a cab, putting her suitcase and her father's down on the sidewalk. I hurried over to them, catching Yulia's arm as Gregor gave me an unreadable look.
“Yulia, I need to talk to you, " I told her.
Yulia stared at me for a moment, like she didn't believe that I was really there. When I looked closely, I could see that her eyes were red-rimmed, and I knew that this must be just as difficult for her as it was for me.
"Please, Yulia," I begged. "Please, stay with me here in Barcelona. At least for a little while longer. Give us a chance to figure out what this thing is between us. If there's any future for us." I lowered my voice. "It's been incredible seeing you again—and I know you have to feel the same. I can't imagine letting you go now, not again."
Yulia sighed. “Alexei, you know I can't stay here,” she said quietly. “I have my job back in St. Petersburg. I have to get back. Besides, I still don't want anything to do with Volkov family business.” She shot a sharp look towards where her father was chatting with the cab driver, just out of earshot. “Especially not after…”
“I'd look out for you,” I promised her. “I'd make sure that Audaz didn't…” But I trailed off as she shook her head. I knew that wasn't what she was looking to hear. “Well, how about this. With all the money I have, we could do a sort of 'long distance' relationship. I'll fly to St. Petersburg every other week to see you. It wouldn't be so bad, would it?”
Yulia sighed. “That won't work,” she said. “You know that won't work. It's all or nothing. If you're permanently based here in Barcelona, and I'm permanently based in Russia… It's just not going to work, Alexei. We've been through this before.”
I swallowed hard, hating what she said even though I knew it was true. We couldn't have that sort of relationship. She would start to resent me for the time I spent away from her. She would worry about the things that I was caught up in. And it would be no different for me: I would wonder what she got up to in Petersburg while I was gone. I would be jealous of her friends and her coworkers, the people who got to see her every day rather than just once every couple of weeks.
It could never work. I didn't know why I had even suggested it.
Except that I did know. I didn't want to lose her, and that's what we were agreeing to if we couldn't find some sort of solution.
At a loss, I pulled Yulia into my arms. It wasn't the fair thing to do, but I couldn't let her go without one last kiss. I locked my lips on hers, wanting to never let her go. I would have gladly stayed there forever, holding her soft curves against me, my fingers twisting into the hairs at the nape of her neck, my arms curled around her.
I almost expected Yulia to push me again, but she clung to me, kissing me back with a fever and passion that I'd never felt from her. If I hadn't already made up my mind, I knew in that instant, with 100% certainty, that I had to find a way to stay with her.
I leaned my forehead against hers, looking deep into her tear-filled eyes. “I'm going to figure out a way to make this work,” I swore.
Yulia stared at me for a long moment, biting her lower lip, and then she pulled away. She sighed and ran a hand back through her hair. “Don't promise things like that,” she said bitterly.
“It's true, though,” I insisted.
“You said you were going to figure out a way to make things work last time,” Yulia reminded me. “But it's been years and years, and you haven't done anything to try and fix things.”
“That's not true,” I said, feeling agitated. To be honest, I did feel like I had failed her. Like I had failed us. It wasn't that I had never tried. I didn't want to be there in Barcelona; didn't she understand that? I had asked Evgeni again and again if there was any way that I could return to St. Petersburg. I had even threatened to marry Yulia in secret, to claim that I was compromised and unable to do any more work for the family.
But every time, my uncle had rationally told me that if I left, I would be betraying the family. I couldn't lose my family, not like that. There was a certain honor that a man had to uphold.
Yulia threw her hands in the air. “Well, if you've been trying so hard, there's nothing that we can show for it,” she pointed out. She shook her head. “I have to move on, Alexei. I'm getting older. I want to settle down with someone. To have a family. And if that's not going to be with you, then so be it.”
“It's not like you've been trying to make things work either,” I snapped. “You could teach English here in Spain. There are loads of schools here.”
“Not ones that would hire a Russian,” Yulia said, rolling her eyes. “I doubt I'd be able to get the permits that I needed to work in the country, or a residency visa even.”
“I'm sure Evgeni could help with that,” I protested.
Yulia gave me a look. “What part of the fact that I want nothing to do with the Volkovs do you not understand?” she asked angrily.
I rolled my eyes. “Stubborn little shit,” I muttered.