by Raine Miller
“Will you tell me? I want to know about you too, Boris. The good and the bad.” I tug him by the hand over to sit beside me on the chaise, snuggling into his side when he puts his arm around me.
He takes a big breath before he begins to speak. “My bio states my parents divorced when I was young, but the truth is they were never married. My father already had a wife and a family in Romania when he made my mother pregnant with me. After my birth, she took me to live in Prague, because she had friends from college who lived and worked there. She struggled as a single mother but made a decent home for us. My father provided support for me growing up, but she never got over his rejection of us. She did not have a good opinion of herself and took up with all kinds of men who used her and tossed her away like she was nothing. She developed a severe drinking problem and her health deteriorated after that. I was nearly removed from her care by the children’s services authorities when she was at her worst. It was Georg’s father, her cousin, who reached out and invited her to come back home to Saint Petersburg when she was in dire need of help and support from her family. He is the one who helped me get a spot in the Olympic hockey program with Georg. He was my coach.”
My heart nearly breaks from his sad, sad story, and it takes every ounce of determination not to start weeping for innocent Boris being scared and afraid for his mom and nowhere to turn. I put my hand over his heart and rub softly. “I’m so sorry you had to endure such a scary situation as a young boy all alone, it must have been terrifying for you at home, and then struggling in school. Oh, I’m so sorry, Boris, but it does sound like you got some help and support from Georg’s family, so I’m very grateful for them.” He covers my hand with his, pressed over his heart, holding it there. “Is your mother still in Saint Petersburg?”
“Yes. She lives in an assisted living facility. I make sure she has everything she needs. Her health is not very good so she needs the care, but she is sober now and is living the best life that she can, I think. She watches my games on the NHL app I set up for her, so she can follow me. I get texts from her after nearly every game once she is able to watch it due to the time difference.” He looks at me and runs a finger down my cheek. “She knows about you. About how I feel about you.”
“Well, I can certainly understand why you weren’t interested in a swinging lifestyle once you grew up. I get it loud and clear now, but I wish you’d told me this before.”
“I know, I should have told you that in my future I see a stable home, a loving relationship, and the healthy family life I never had. I want that. I deserve that. But mostly, I want to have it with you, even though I know you aren’t ready to hear it from me.”
“Oh, I think I might be ready now,” I say softly. “And of course, you deserve it,” I tell him fervently, my hand on his cheek. “Boris, I knew what I was feeling for you was the real thing, but right after my ordeal, it was…it was a whole lot, all at once. I was wrong to shut you out. I should have been an adult and talked to you about it.”
“Was it…were you struggling after the—“
“I was. I am. I think I didn’t know how to process what had happened. What I was feeling. But I will seek out therapy for my PTSD, and I promise not to let it come between us.”
“When I got that text, Talia, I would rip through worlds to get to you, to protect you.”
“I’m not always the one who needs protecting, Boris, as you need protecting too. You’re far too trusting. You need someone looking out for you.”
“Well, I hope that person will be you. You are fierce and scary.”
I laugh and wiggle off the chaise and over to the shelves. “Yes, I’ll always be there to hit someone over the head with a book.” I pull the first Harry Potter from the shelf and say, “I’ll read two chapters, okay?”
He grins and pulls me to the chaise, settling his head on my lap. I read the first two chapters, and then Boris surprises me when he pulls the book from my hands and rearranges our positions, my head on his lap. After reading a full page out loud to me in his sexy accent that I love to hear, he tells me about the work he’s been doing to better manage his dyslexia.
Honestly, seeing him reading turns me on.
The tables have turned.
I close the book and set it safely on the side table, before straddling myself over his lap.
“You are so amazing, and I am very turned on right now. I likey when you read to me.” I press my mouth to his. He answers in kind, pushing hard, his tongue insistent against my lips. I moan as I give him access, his hands against my back, his cock hardening beneath my hips, hitting between my legs at just the right spot. I move my hips, the frustration of being fully clothed making me growl like a wild animal in mating season.
I roll off him and start peeling off my clothes. “I want to be naked with you. And I want…I want—” I’m scared to say it.
“You want what, krasotka? Tell me.” He doesn’t say it sweetly, rather it’s a hard command demanding a response.
“I want—you to f-fuck me this time. I want us to…fuck it out. We both need that very much right now, I think.”
He chuckles darkly as he undresses, nodding slowly up and down, affirming he indeed does agree. I get a full view of his perfectly sculpted body when he stands naked and ready for me. Flawless pectorals, washboard abs, wide shoulders, trim waist. His legs are strong and muscular. His big cock juts toward me, rock hard and ready as he stares hungrily when I drop my bra to the floor.
I’m now as naked as him.
I’m such a lucky, lucky girl.
“Lie back on the chaise,” he commands.
I sink down into the blue velvet and try to control my racing heartbeat from leaping out of my chest.
“Rub your nipples and let me watch you get your sweet pink pussy ready to take my hard cock.”
Pinching and twisting my nipples with one hand, I finger my clit with the other until I’m so slippery and wet for him I can hardly stand it. I might come just thinking about having him inside me with the way he’s being so gruff and hard and sexy and dominant.
“I want to fuck your pretty mouth and hold you by your braids.”
Oh. My. God.
Boris’s eyes are hooded and dark as he moves to hover over me, his cock kissing my lips before I open my mouth to take him in. I have to stretch wide to take him, but I do, and I let him push deep to the back of my throat. He does what he said he wanted to do with my braids, wrapping one around each fist, and using them to fuck his cock in and out of my mouth. It’s dirty and filthy and glorious and wonderful. He fucks like he does everything else. Carefully and with attention to detail. I take him as deep as I can until I can taste the salt of precum and he releases me. He pulls me by the legs to the edge of the chaise and spreads me wide open. His cock at my entrance, he sinks it fiercely into me, deep and hot and hard.
I asked for hard. He gives it hard. In and out. Harder and faster. His biceps bulge from holding himself above me as he pushes his cock as deep as he can go. I love it. I’m delirious with pleasure. I climax in rapid succession and feel tears on my face. I’m out of my body and no longer know where Boris ends, and Talia begins. There’s no separation of us, just we.
With a roar Boris shudders into me, his cock twitching and jerking the last of his climax out of him and into me. He collapses on top of me, both of us struggling to catch our breath.
We lie on my blue velvet chaise for a long time, kissing and caressing each other with softer touches of lips and hands than a few moments ago.
Time slows down.
Nothing is more important than this right now.
Finally, he speaks. “I can’t stand it. I need to say it, krasotka.”
I bite back a smile. “I know you do. And I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Four months later.
The team is heading into winter break and I am very much ready for the time off. It has been an amazing season, made better by seeing Talia in the stands at nearly every game—even the ones on t
he road. She really is my good luck charm. I convinced her by pleading my case that if her being at the games helps me to score more goals so the Crush can win more than they lose, well then you keep doing it. Hockey players are superstitious as fuck, and I’m not ashamed admitting it.
Talia is feeling better too, after finding a therapist to help her through her PTSD from the abduction. Having someone to listen and tell you it wasn’t your fault is powerful medicine toward healing the mind of painful burdens. My investors in Russia went silent in the aftermath; and I have never heard from them again. The gun fight was all over the local news immediately after it happened, speculated as a drug deal gone wrong. Two were dead at the scene and the third died at the hospital a day or two later, so there was never a witness to make a statement. Heisenberg’s guys were ghosts in the whole thing, so no connection there either. The reports dwindled away as soon as the next crime story took center stage in the local news, and people quickly forgot about the mysterious Vegas underworld shooting resulting in three dead criminals with fake visas. Those three got exactly what they deserved in my opinion. Karma, you know. I don’t lose sleep over it anymore.
It helps that my investments are doing much better, my wealth starting to take real shape under Talia’s close attention. I can fly her first class to any road games she wants to attend, upgrade our hotel rooms, and take her out to amazing places with me. It’s fun, traveling with her, exploring the cities we visit, growing closer as the months pass. For Los Angeles and Anaheim games we always make time for a visit to the home where she grew up with her parents and three siblings—two older brothers and a younger sister. They have welcomed me with open arms, though it has taken a bit getting used to so many smart, nerdy people in one family. Her father is a university professor of astronomy, her mother is the principal of a high school, her brother Deryk, the CEO of a computer engineering firm he founded, her brother Alec, a lawyer, and her little sister, Dahlia, at just eighteen, has already completed two years at university, studying to become a veterinarian. So many super-intelligent humans under one roof can be overwhelming, but the dinner conversation is never boring. I am always learning something new from listening to them go full-nerd on every topic imaginable over plates of her mom’s lasagna or her dad’s grilled tri-tip.
When we arrive at the airport, Talia puts her hand on my arm and asks, “Are you sure you want to travel though? We’re on the go all the time for games. I thought maybe you’d want a break from airplanes and buses and hotel rooms?”
“I’m good with this travel, krasotka.”
“When are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll find out in another minute I think.”
We check in at the first-class counter and I hand over my identification. “To Orlando,” the attendant says.
“Yes,” I confirm.
When I glance over at Talia, she gives me a funny look. I can see her trying to puzzle it out. “What’s in Orlando?”
“The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.” I’m unable to contain my grin for a second longer.
Her eyes go wide, and she jumps up and down, clapping her hands in delight. “Harry Potter World? Really?”
“Really, krasotka.” She hurls herself into my arms and kisses me until her glasses fall off her beautiful face. I set her on her feet, put her glasses back into place, and then press my forehead to hers. “I am thrilled you approve of my choice.”
“Thrilled is an understatement, my love, and you always choose perfectly because you’ve got game.”
“You think that I’ve got game? Me?” She can’t be serious.
“So much game, dragon man, so, so much.”
“I think you’re just saying that because you love me, krasotka, and you really want to go to Harry Potter World.”
She shakes her head no. “I love you of course, but it’s irrelevant to your level of game-ness at any given time. Have you forgotten all those precious love notes you sent to woo me back to you, along with enough roses to fill a barn? Your love notes beat out Harry Potter World by a mile on a scale of woo-worthiness. Seriously.”
“Oh, I remember writing the notes, krasotka. I dictated it first into my phone and then I enlarged the font size and copied it onto paper. It took a long time, though I did get faster the more I practiced.”
“I rest my case. Not just another pretty face, folks, but whip-smart too. How did I get so lucky?”
As my krasotka chatters away, we head toward security and our boarding gate. She likes talking about so many things all the time, and I can honestly say it makes me happy to listen to her. But I still have fun teasing her whenever I get an opportunity. “I don’t know. You won the boyfriend lottery maybe?” I suggest.
“That and don’t forget your wooing skills,” she reminds me. “You could teach the class on wooing and hand out certificates to the guys who passed it. I’m thinking, Tyler for example, could certainly benefit from your vast and intricate knowledge on the topic of how to properly woo someone.”
“So, are you trying to say I am good at the wooing?”
I can barely keep a straight face when she goes quiet, because that’s when I know she’s onto me messing with her.
“Don’t push your luck, dragon man. I know what you did there.” She gives my hand a squeeze for emphasis.
I take her hand to my lips and kiss the top of it. “You can take it out on me when we get there.”
“Oh, you can bet on it.” Her eyes spark with a certain look that makes me hard.
I can’t fucking wait.
An hour later, we’re seated in first class about to take off, when Talia puts her head on my shoulder. “I’m so excited. Thank you for this. It’s going to be pure magic, you’ll see.”
I pull a small box from my pocket and hand it to her. “What’s this?” she asks.
“You have to open it, krasotka.” She takes the tiny box and shakes it next to her ear. When she removes the lid and sees what’s inside, she can’t help squealing a little. I’m pretty sure she likes it.
The Harry Potter-themed charm bracelet comes out of the box and is slipped onto her wrist. “I love it so much and I love you. Thank you.” She admires for it a moment more and then leans over and offers her lips to me for a kiss.
I never pass up an offer to kiss my girl.
“It’s a promise I will keep, krasotka.” I point out the silver charm that reads “Always.”
“Always, Boris.” Within her stormy blue eyes, I can only see the love I have for her and the love she has for me shining radiantly up at me.
“Always, krasotka Natalia.”
I do believe it will be.
Sneak Peek of SMOKESHOW
Please read on to enjoy the first chapters of SMOKESHOW, Book 5 in the VEGAS CRUSH series featuring hockey f#ckboy extraordinaire, Tyler Lockhardt and his “friendly” young obsession, Zoya Kolochev, plus a look in on our friends from the previous books, of course. All books in the VEGAS CRUSH series are STANDALONE contemporary romance with a happily ever after, and always plenty of hockey hunk action burning up the pages.
* * *
smoke·show
/smōk/·/SHō/
noun
1. A word to describe someone so hot that you basically see the smoke coming off them...
◦ informal usage
(A sexy bombshell walks into a bar.)
Dude 1: “Dude, check out the smokeshow that just walked in.”
Dude 2: “Holy f#ck, she really is a smokeshow!”
1: Saint Georg
ZOYA
January
I say a little prayer to the registration gods that they will not shut me out of the classes I really want.
My draft class schedule in hand, I look down the line, which is so very long I fear I will be standing here forever. Unfortunately, I missed the cutoff for registering online because my overprotective father only just decided that I could follow my sister Irina to UNLV where she is pursuing her master’s degree
in women’s studies. So now, I must stand in the line and pray.
Luckily, most of my transfer credits came through from my previous university in Saint Petersburg, so I am in a slightly better position to get the more targeted classes that I need. It has been my dream to study in the U.S. for a long time even though my father was absolutely against it. With every fiber in his body, he opposed sending me here for college on my own. But now, since my sister got into grad school, he finally agreed. Also helpful is the fact our brother plays professional hockey for the Vegas Crush and makes Las Vegas his home. If not for that perk, I doubt I would even be here at all. Georg is married now, and our father has threatened him with bodily harm if he doesn’t look out for me (mostly) but also my sister. This idea would have been laughable a couple of years ago, but now my brother is more settled, less wild, and I believe he has my father convinced that he will keep an eye out for us.
This is not a problem for me.
I do not get in trouble.
My sister, however? Well, let us just say my brother will be having his hands full with Irina. Which is why it is laughable that I had to beg for a year to come here to study in the first place.
I finally make it to the front of the line and work through my class list with the registrar. Two of my classes are already full but she helps me find alternatives that should be suitable. Once everything is in place, I’m shuffled to the bursar’s line, where I wait for the privilege of handing over a check for the cost of this semester’s tuition.
“Where are you from?” the gray-haired woman at the bursar’s desk asks as she enters my payment information into her computer.
“Saint Petersburg.” I can anticipate the conversation that will likely follow.
“Florida?”
“Russia.”
She looks up and giggles. “Right. The accent should have made it obvious, huh? We just see so many people from so many places here. It’s a real melting pot, Las Vegas. Have you noticed that?”