Until the End

Home > Romance > Until the End > Page 9
Until the End Page 9

by London Miller


  Biting her lip, Amber tried to restrain a smile. “No, I don’t think I do.”

  Trying to fight down her embarrassment, she whispered, “Have sex.”

  “Why are you so red? I’m surprised the two of you haven’t done that before now.”

  Lauren shrugged, looking away. The opportunity had come up on plenty of occasions, but it seemed like Mishca had been waiting on something, and after all that had happened later, she doubted sex was a top priority on either of their minds.

  “Yes, well since it’s my first time, I want it to be special, but I also want it to be good for him,” she hastily added. “Remember that time Tristan was complaining about that girl being a lazy bottom?”

  Sometimes Tristan had a knack for telling them about his sexual exploits, not caring whether it made them uncomfortable or not…or even if they knew the girl—like that time he was telling them about a girl from Amber’s art class.

  “Tristan was just being a dick. Don’t ever take sex advice from him.”

  “Then teach me, oh great one.”

  “Be ready in ten.”

  Lauren wanted to check her account balance first before they headed into the shops, wanting to ensure that her paycheck had arrived. When she stuck in her debit card and punched in her pin, she definitely wasn’t expecting the amount shown.

  She blinked once, then blinked again, wanting to make sure she was reading the screen correctly. She even exited out, reentering the information just to be sure, but her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

  As she wondered where the money could have come from, she had a sneaking suspicion.

  She dialed Susan. Listening to it ring, Lauren tried to decide how she would go about this, knowing that it wouldn’t be easy for either of them.

  When Susan finally picked up, Lauren asked, “Mom, did you rob a bank?”

  “I don’t think so,” Susan said confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I checked my bank account today and there’s more money in my account than…well ever.”

  Susan was quiet for a long time and what Lauren had assumed, she knew for sure now.

  “Your father set up a trust for you, your portion of his life insurance. Once you turned twenty-one, it went into effect.”

  “But why is it so much…” Then she remembered the payment from Mikhail, Susan’s hush money.

  Now she wished she had never bothered to ask.

  What more could she say when there was nearly half a million dollars in her account.

  “Sweetie, do you want to talk? I know this may be a little hard for you…”

  “It’s not a big deal. I can handle this.”

  But she kind of was having a mild panic attack. If her paycheck hadn’t been in her account, she would have cancelled this entire trip out. She didn’t feel right spending that money, knowing why it was there, but she had no idea what she would do with it.

  “How’s school going?” Susan said in a bid to change the subject.

  “Tiring. I absolutely hate economics.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”

  “Of course you do, mom,” Lauren said laughing. “Anyway, I’m out shopping with Amber. I’ll call you later.”

  “Be careful while you’re out, okay? I love you.”

  “Love you too, bye.”

  She briefly thought about calling Mishca, wanting to tell him about it, but thought better of it at the last minute.

  When Lauren turned around, Amber was off talking to a pretty attractive guy that looked a bit artsy. He had dark hair—not as dark as Mishca’s—and blue eyes that had the same aquatic shade that Mishca’s were, but they were missing a distinct of silver—

  She was doing it again. Now, she saw similarities between Mishca and random men, but they were always lacking in comparison.

  Not wanting to interrupt, and glad that Amber was talking to someone, she looked through the display cases at the mannequins posed in colorful lingerie. They all struck dramatic poses, the underwear only adding to the absurdity of it all.

  “See anything you like?” Amber asked walking up next to her, a big smile on her face.

  “Friend of yours?”

  “His name is Justin. He modeled in one of my art classes before, pretty nice guy.”

  Lauren waited eagerly for her to go on, waving her hand wildly when Amber just smiled.

  “He wanted to meet for drinks next week. I said yes.”

  “Awesome! You’re back in the game.”

  “Yea, and I at least know he’ll appreciate my art…no, I promised myself I wouldn’t talk or even think about Rob. Back to my question, do you see anything that speaks to you?”

  “That one,” she responded pointing to one of the mannequins on the far end, wearing the most modest attire of all of them.

  “You can’t wear that. It’s your first time, it’s supposed to be memorable. Come on, let me show you how it’s done.”

  Amber dragged her in, immediately pointing out frilly and tiny things that she thought were to die for.

  “What about this?”

  Amber held up a crotch less bodysuit made of lace that had Lauren shaking her head before she had it all the way off the table.

  “Why not something simple? Something white? Cotton?”

  Amber looked so alarmed by that, Lauren laughed. “You’re not in jail, L. How about these?” She dragged her over to another table filled with lacy undergarments in different colors.

  These weren’t so bad.

  “If I pick these, is this all I need?”

  “Sweetie, we’re just beginning.”

  Two hours and four stores later, they were finally getting home. Lauren tossed her bags on the couch, collapsing beside them as she rested her aching feet. She had forgotten what it was like shopping in New York.

  “You have everything? You remember everything I said?”

  “Yep. No biting unless he’s into that kind of thing, no candle wax because it never ends well, and finally no slapping, unless, of course—”

  “He’s into that kind of thing,” Amber finished. “I don’t think Mish would be though. He’s seems too…domineering to be the sub.”

  Lauren laughed though she agreed.

  Everything was ready for her special weekend with him and she could hardly contain her excitement. Now, all she had to do was get him to agree.

  When Lauren had everything ready, and her clothes packed, she called a cab, heading over to Mishca’s to surprise him. She had paid close attention to his schedule, noticing a pattern. During the week, he was constantly business, time spent between the Bratva and his club, and on the weekends, just the club.

  Since Jonathan was the head of operations, he handled everything that Mishca did. It only took a single phone call to get him to handle everything for the weekend.

  Mishca pulled the door open, his solemn expression morphing into a grin as he reached for Lauren.

  “Moya globushka.”

  “Forty-eight hours,” Lauren said without preamble, holding up a sealed envelope with his name on it, her suitcase resting by her feet.

  As she waved it in front of his face, he plucked it from her hands, preparing to open it when she put her hands over his, stilling his movements.

  “Not yet, you have to agree first.”

  “What exactly am I agreeing to?” He asked as he led her into his apartment.

  “Alone time with me for forty-eight hours with no phones,” she stressed when his phone buzzed. “Jonathan already agreed to oversee everything and I’m sure your, uh, partners can handle a couple days without you.”

  At least that’s what she hoped.

  His brows drew together as he looked from the envelope to her, making her fear that he was going to decline.

  “We’ll still be in the city,” she rushed to say. “And if you need to, you can always phone Vlad or whoever.”

  Silence…then he smiled, nodding once. “What do I need?”

  With only two b
ags between the two of them, they checked in, Lauren handing over her credit card to keep on file. She chose to ignore the frown he shot her.

  The en-suite was everything she hoped it would be. The room actually resembling more of an upscale apartment than a hotel room with its impeccable design and fantastic view of the city.

  “You paid for this?” Mishca asked looking around, his eyes troubled.

  Oh, no. She recognized that look. “I did, and I don’t want you going down there and paying for it behind my back either.”

  Smiling unabashed, he carried their bags into the bedroom while she took a look around. There were two bedrooms, both with queen-sized beds and luxurious bathrooms attached.

  In one of them, there was a sauna off to the side, a note resting on the table on how to properly use the tools inside. There were also a set of French doors, opening out onto the balcony, several tall, potted plants providing privacy while also dense enough to allow light to pass through them.

  “So,” Lauren began as she joined him in the bedroom where his back was to her, “I have reservations at the restaurant downstairs for dinner and…”

  She trailed off when she realized he was on the phone. She didn’t interrupt, letting him finish his conversation. When he was done, and he turned to face her as he pressed the end button, he quickly explained himself.

  “Last minute details, promise.”

  He even handed her the phone. She might not have realized it at the time, but that phone held more information about the Bratva than any other piece of technology he owned. If it ever fell into the wrong hands, they would be able to take him down with relative ease.

  “You were speaking of dinner, no?”

  Lauren was waiting for Mishca in the sitting area. She was peering up at the night sky when a spider dropped from the ceiling. She screamed, more out of surprise than fear. Mishca came running out of the bathroom, stopping just short of her as he noticed what she was looking at. With a smile, he picked up the delicate creature and set it outside.

  She was prepared to thank him, but was immediately sidetracked by the view of him in the tiny towel that barely reached his mid-thigh. In fact, if he wasn’t holding it in the right way, she might have seen more than he had intended.

  There were some things she would never get used to and Mishca’s bare body was one of them.

  His chest was lean and toned, the identical stars just below his collarbone and the epaulettes on his shoulders a constant reminder of his station, but in this moment, Lauren could care less about that.

  Clearing her throat meaningfully—noting that smirk of his growing after catching her staring again—Lauren asked, “What were you doing in there?”

  His skin was slightly damp, but not enough to indicate that he had been in the shower.

  “Was just drying off.”

  She nodded along though she barely heard a word he said, too busy watching a drop of water descending down his abdomen.

  Never. Got. Old.

  Around the rim of her glass, Lauren smiled, watching Mishca narrow his eyes on the bartender. That muscle in his jaw was working restlessly, and she couldn’t help but feel a thrill at what was happening. When he finally turned back to her, his glare melted away at her amusement.

  They had decided to get drinks before dinner, wanting to get out of the room for a bit.

  “What?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you jealous before. It’s kind of nice.”

  He grumbled something along the lines of, “I’m not jealous,” but when the bartender returned with Lauren’s drink, Mishca slid his hand beneath the fall of her hair, his thumb stroking the nape of her neck, an undeniably possessive hold.

  “Tell me again how you’re not green with envy, Mish.”

  He was spared answering by the arrival of their hostess, leading them to one of the few empty tables in the center of the room.

  She smiled graciously and said, “Your waiter will be right with you.”

  Lauren looked over her menu, already deciding on the striped bass, but was momentarily distracted by Mishca’s sudden outburst.

  “Now you’re just fucking with me.”

  She didn’t have to ponder long what he meant because their waiter was fast approaching, and judging from the way he made a point to briefly stop by his other tables—all occupied by beautiful women, some with male companions—he was a bit of a flirt.

  Laughing softly, Lauren shook her head. “I swear I didn’t plan this.”

  “Vy budete menya v mogilu—You will be the death of me.”

  “Dah.” she said confidently, loving the way his eyes lit up.

  “Where did you learn all of this?”

  “I bought a pocket edition of the Russian dictionary. Sometimes I can guess what you’re trying to say, other times—like now—I just assumed you said something sweet.”

  He laughed, drawing the attention of the couples next to their table. “Good to know.”

  Uncaring of their surroundings, he grabbed hold of the arm of her chair, tugging her closer until she was within arm’s reach. His hand dropped down to her lap, his fingers curling around her thigh.

  “I’m never going to let you live this down,” she whispered just as the waiter arrived at their table.

  Dinner proved a quiet affair after Mishca’s display of jealousy. Lauren was laying on her stomach, flipping through channels, stopping when she got to a movie she had seen for the first time about a month ago.

  “I used this for research,” she said as she dug her spoon into the crème brûlée Mishca had sent up to the room for her.

  Mishca regarded the movie silently, just as the scene of the little diary burning in the bucket played. She felt him looking at her, trying to decipher how she felt about it. When she didn’t think about, it didn’t hurt as much.

  She still missed reading his thoughts, loving the way her father viewed the world, but it was the sacrifice she had to make.

  “I have something for you,” he said abruptly, hopping out of the bed to look in his suitcase.

  Whatever he had, he kept hidden behind his back as he came back over.

  “For a kiss.”

  Laughing, she climbed up to her knees, pressing her lips to his softly, waiting for him to get into it before she pulled back.

  “Show me.”

  With a chuckle, he presented his present.

  At first she didn’t believe it, thinking he had gotten her a replica, until she flipped it open and read the first page. She was dangerously close to crying, Mishca’s image wavering.

  “I thought you would enjoy this,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “No, this is the greatest thing you could have ever given me.”

  How could she have gone so long without him?

  Mishca was at ease, his thoughts peaceful for once. This had been the longest he had gone without answering a call. There were days when he went from the club to his father, then making his rounds around the city to check in with his men. Technically, this would be the first vacation he’d taken in years.

  Vlad, as his second-in-command, was in charge while he was away, another of Mishca’s test runs to prepare him for a bigger role in the Bratva. While he had no doubts that the older man could handle the work, it was the way Mikhail preferred it.

  In quiet moments like these, Mishca wondered how different his life would be if he had opted out of the life. It might have been highly frowned upon, but it was doable. While Catja, Mishca’s mother, had been alive, he knew he would never follow in his father’s footsteps, not wanting to add to the pain she already suffered from, but with her death came an empty hole in his life. He had thought to fill it with the Bratva, find a family that might not have been blood, but were supposed to Bratva, find a family that might not have been blood, but were supposed to be closer than.

  Mishca hadn’t realized just how empty his life was until Lauren stumbled into it. It had amazed him how quickly he had fallen
for her and he soon found himself living for the moments when she smiled, how that simple action could light up her face. And when it was he who put that expression there, he felt complete.

  It was the reason he’d held back from her for so long.

  That night at the manor, when she would have gladly accepted more than what they’d done in her bed, he couldn’t do it. There were too many secrets, secrets that would, and ultimately did, tear them apart.

  And that fear was what kept him from uttering three little words.

  He was a rational man and he wouldn’t pretend that he hadn’t been terrified of him telling her how he felt and she not feeling the same way. Infatuated men were blind to the emotions around them, so while he might have felt strongly for her, she might not have shared the same emotion.

  Even now, after all they’d been through, he still hadn’t been able to say it, not that it hadn’t been on his mind. He needed to say it, not just so she would have no doubts about the way he felt, but a reminder to himself that he wouldn’t always lose everything he loved.

  Lauren shifted in his arms, resting more comfortably against his side. One thing he always liked when they slept together was the way they fit. No matter how they turned at night, they each adjusted to the other’s position.

  Mishca opened his mouth, the words poised at the tip of his tongue, yet he was unable to say them. For a moment, he thought of her leaving again, walking out of his life, but this time, never returning. Could he live without her a second time?

  “Ya tebya lyublya —I love you,” he whispered, the words soft in the silent room.

  They were just as much a declaration as they were a promise. This time, he wouldn’t be giving her up without a fight, even if she thought to leave herself.

  More seconds of silence, reaffirming his thought that she might have been sleeping. He would say it again in the morning when they were both awake, and in English so he was sure she understood him.

  It was just a matter of time.

  Mishca closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander to other things, at least until he felt Lauren’s lips curl against his neck.

 

‹ Prev