Dynasty

Home > Other > Dynasty > Page 118
Dynasty Page 118

by Jen Davis et al.


  “Was prison scary? Did you ever see one of those bear-sized Siberian guard dogs up close? Do you have cathedral tattoos on your back, or did they only do that during the Soviet—”

  He pressed his finger against my lips to silence me. “My turn.”

  I lowered his hand. “You already know stuff about me. I hardly know anything about you.”

  “Tell me a secret.”

  “No way,” I said.

  “You have plenty. Give me one.”

  “Fine. Kiki and I are getting an apartment in Clifton. We’re moving into our new place in two weeks. I haven’t told Dad yet. Surprise.”

  Vladimir tapped his fingers on his leg as he processed my confession. I thought for sure Boris had already ratted me out, but he had kept his share of secrets from the boss, too.

  “I’m a grown woman, but Dad still treats me like a kid. I’m ready to move on.”

  He flashed a naughty grin. “Anything I can do to help you move on to womanhood?”

  I cracked up. He was so relaxed and cute when he was sober. “You promised, boss.” I crossed the line and shoved him playfully. “I need you to be my ‘Just Say No to the Sexy Russian’ buddy.”

  His bedroom eyes lit up and he smoothed his hand over my silhouette. “I can do things for you, angel. We can enjoy ourselves without going all the way. I’ll protect your virginity with my life. Trust me.”

  His seductive smile and practiced hand dissolved my Purity Plan like acid rain on a paper umbrella. I tried to resist him for, like, two seconds, but the fire burning down there had tipped over into Inferno Mode. “Turn off the lights,” I said.

  He did, leaving only a sliver of moonlight to lighten the room. Vladimir tossed his clothes on the floor and slid under the sheets. When he lay on top of me, the heat emanating from his strong body ignited the sexual tension that had been smoking between us from the first night we met. His penis hardened as I ran my fingers through his hair and sloppy-kissed his face and neck.

  He slid my nightgown off, trailed kisses down my neck, and ran his tongue across my nipples. “Your body is perfection, Carter.” He exhaled a deep, pleasurable grunt, and teased me with Russian words I didn’t understand as he squeezed and sucked on my breasts.

  I groaned and swiveled my hips, enjoying his kisses yet longing for him to move his attention further down my body. He understood my need and slid his tongue across my six-pack on his way downtown. Once he landed in the zone, I gasped at the sensual arousal of his oral pleasure. He circled his tongue over and around my clit until the warmth and wetness kicked my excitement over to a new level.

  “You want me to take you there, angel?”

  I hummed an affirmative mm-hm, and he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them. He slid one inside me and massaged me gently. “You’re so wet.”

  My body stiffened, unaccustomed to the new sensation.

  “Want me to stop?” he whispered, withdrawing.

  “I like your mouth.”

  Vladimir spread me apart and kissed me passionately between my legs. He swirled his tongue across my sex and rubbed me in the zone over and over and over. My excitement escalated and I thrust my hips against him to increase my pleasure and when I thought I couldn’t possibly feel any better my body stiffened, and I groaned a throaty growl as I climaxed for the first time.

  “Oh, Vladimir.” As I came down from my release, I exhaled a sigh of relief as the pleasure he gave me pulsed through my sex. My body relaxed and while my excitement subsided, he nuzzled my virgin skin.

  “Your taste is so sweet, angel. Your body is heaven.”

  “Thank you for…that.” I draped my hand across my forehead as I caught my breath.

  “So happy I could please you.” He cuddled up beside.

  “Yeah, me too.” I opened my eyes and met Vladimir’s smug expression. “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” I shoved him in the chest. “Now it’s your turn.” I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back toward the foot of the bed. Unsure exactly how to return the favor, I lay across his chest and stroked his erection. When I got into a rhythm, it pulsed and grew stronger.

  At the risk of sounding completely lame, I whispered, “What do I do now?”

  “I like what you’re doing, angel.”

  “How do I…make it happen.”

  Vladimir took my hand and schooled me in the ways of how to make a man feel good. Once I felt confident, I teased him with my tongue and moved my hand up and down his length until his excitement peaked. He moaned and panted, even more dramatically than I did, and when he recovered, he pulled my body into his and tucked me into the contours of his body. Naked and intertwined under the sheets, we bonded in a way we never had before. Of course, I was attracted to him, but I felt connected to him.

  In that moment, I knew Vladimir and I were destined to be together—forever. I rolled over and rested my head on his shoulder so that I could see his eyes. “I love you, Vladimir.”

  With an expression of uncertainty, he placed his hands on my cheeks. “I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

  My eyes welled up. He wiped away my tears and with them all the negativity about my self-worth I had bottled up for so long. This man, this gorgeous, powerful man loved me.

  “Oh, Carter. You are the reason I breathe.” He rolled on top of me and kissed me so passionately, I had to fight for air between gasps. I clung to him, trusting my sexy Russian not to take more than I was willing to give. For better or worse, it was our moment, our time, our Day of Infamy.

  Chapter 46

  Afterglow

  The morning after, we shared an intimate breakfast on the balcony and noshed on fresh local fruit, steel-cut oats with warm milk, yoghurt and honey, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Seagulls stalked our mini buffet from the sky and Vladimir’s eyes sparkled in the Florida sunshine as we talked and laughed and enjoyed our privacy. In the weeks I had known him, I had never seen him so relaxed and happy.

  He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”

  His unshaven cheeks felt sandpapery against my skin. “What does it mean?”

  “I love you.”

  I curled my finger around one of his ringlets. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”

  As we noshed and enjoyed the sunshine and salty ocean air, I couldn’t ignore Boris calling me on the special phone. I’d heard it going off in my purse for, like, the billionth time. “I’d better get that. It might be important.”

  “My phone has been going off all morning too.”

  I could tell by his expression he was amused, rather than alarmed, but nonetheless I was a little freaked considering I had lied to everyone and jetted off to Miami Beach with my dad’s boss. Maybe someone had found out, and Boris was trying to warn me.

  I ran inside and lifted the ringing phone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Dobroye utro. Good morning.” Boris sounded relieved. “Everything okay?”

  I glanced outside. Vladimir motioned for me to join him. “I’m khorosho.” I went back outside and curled up on his lap. He wrapped his arms around my belly. His touch excited me. I sucked in a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong? Is boss there?”

  “I’m with Vladimir now.” I turned my head and smooched his lips. “Vladimir is khorosho, too.” He tickled me and I giggled.

  “I take it you and Vladimir had a khoroshiy evening together?”

  “Da.”

  “Good girl. Call if you need anything.”

  After breakfast, I went to the bathroom to get changed for the beach. I slipped out of my robe and slid on a super cute fringy white and gold bikini. As I checked out my reflection in the mirror, a boney, battered, and bruised young woman with bags under her eyes and sallow cheeks stared back.

  If I set foot on the beach with my older, prison-tatted Russian boyfriend looking like I got my ass beat on a daily basis, someone would call the cops. Up until that point, I’d kept my bruises hidden from everyone—including Vladimir. When
we were naked, the lights were off and my body was hidden under the sheets.

  “How does it look? You like it?” he asked from the other side of the door.

  “Love it. I’ll model it for you after I finish getting ready.”

  Shit. He would be mad for sure—either at me for deserving the marks he had left on my skin, or he’d be pissed at Boris for hurting me. Or he’d interrogate me about what I did that made Boris so mad, and then I’d have to cop to the Leonardo Examination Incident. If I ratted out Boris, I would have hell to pay with him all over again.

  Secrets or lies? Neither option ended with us happily frolicking on the beach. I had to call for backup. I picked up my special phone and turned on the shower to mask my voice.

  Boris picked up on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t look good in my bikini. I’m afraid to go to the beach.”

  “You have a nice figure, lapsha, get over—”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “I packed a long-sleeved swim shirt. One for boss, too.”

  I heard a knock at the door. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” I tapped the screen and hung up on Boris.

  I pulled my hair forward to cover my arms, leaving the good parts from the neck down visible. I put my hand over my side to cover the yellowing bruises on my stomach where Boris had pinched my skin. “What do you think?” I turned to give him a good view.

  He leaned in for a smooch. “Amazing. Who were you talking to?”

  “Boris called to remind us to wear the swim shirts he packed. I guess coming home with matching sunburns might raise a few eyebrows.”

  He took the phone from my hand to check the call log. “You said Boris called you, but you are the one who called him.”

  I dismissed his objection with a wave of my hand. “Um, he called me, and then I called him back. Are you ready to hit the beach?”

  He checked the call list again and shot me an accusing glare.

  Don’t lie, don’t lie, don’t lie…

  “I needed his advice. He’s my sovietnik, too.”

  “What do you need? Why not come to me?”

  I pushed my hair over my shoulders and exposed my secret.

  Vladimir ran his fingers down my arms and assessed the damage. The bruises on my body told a story on my skin just as his Russian tattoos revealed his crimes and time served behind bars. He lined up his fingers over the marks he’d imprinted on my arms. Judging by his pained expression, he had no memory of hurting me.

  “This happened while you were a guest in my house?”

  “Saturday night after you—”

  My phone rang in the palm of Vladimir’s hand. I shut my mouth, remembering Boris had warned me not to bring up alcohol.

  His jaw clinched. “After I what?”

  I hesitated. The phone continued to ring.

  “Tell me.”

  “After you had a lot to drink.”

  His eyes dulled and his expression went blank as if the truth had planted a bullet in his brain. He reeled me in for a hug. “Never again.” He rubbed circles on my back, kissed the top of my head, and rocked me side to side. “I swear to God, I’ll never lose control around you as long as I live. I’ll never have a sip of alcohol in your presence again. I love you, Carter. More than anything in the world.”

  I burrowed inside his robe and buried my head against his bare chest. He let out a mournful sigh when my tears wet his skin. “Moy slomonnyy angel.” He hugged me so tightly, I could feel his heart beating against my cheek. “Say you forgive me.”

  I could tell he felt horrible for hurting me, and I believed that if he didn’t drink, he would never become violent. He loved me, and I loved him. “I forgive you.” My words caught in my throat.

  The ringing stopped.

  Chapter 47

  House Rules

  We skipped the beach and flew back home in case Dad tried to reach me. Once we landed in Cincinnati, instead of taking me straight home, Vladimir pulled into the church by my house and parked the car. He took off his seat belt, unfastened mine, and leaned over and kissed me. “Come with me. The house is empty without you. Boris misses you, too.”

  “I need to check in with Dad.” I finger-combed his hair.

  “Let me go back with you. We’ll tell your papa right now.”

  I shook my head.

  “We’re in love. Why hide our affection?”

  “Let’s take our time and do this right—and I’m sure Boris doesn’t miss me.” I laughed.

  “You’re wrong about that. He said you remind him of his daughter.”

  “Wait. Boris has a daughter? Does she live here or in Russia?”

  “Sadly, Katia died when she was a young girl. He’s left with two sons.”

  Why are so many of their family members dead? “That’s so sad.”

  “Life is precious. We must cherish every moment we have together.”

  Vladimir let me go, but made me promise I would call when I got to Dad’s to make plans for the rest of the weekend. When I walked in the door, I was surprised to find a house full of guests. Karen’s family had stopped by to visit, and Ryan and his dad were there to watch a bowl game with Dad and a bunch of his Ohio State buddies.

  I was so distracted by all the guests, especially my aunt’s six-month-old baby boy, I didn’t immediately call Vladimir back like I said I would. As I held the blue-eyed cutie in my arms, someone knocked on the front door. My hands were full, so Ryan answered it.

  “Good to see you, sir,” Ryan said. “Here to join us for the game?”

  I turned to see who he was talking to: Vladimir. He had on his sexy glasses and held a computer bag in his hand. He stepped inside and shook Ryan’s hand. “No, no just a quick question for my star employee.” I thought he would be pissed to find Ryan at the house, but he was delighted to see my cooing cousin perched on my hip.

  Ryan noticed Vladimir’s quizzical expression. “Carter didn’t tell you she had a baby?”

  “Ryan!”

  He laughed and jogged downstairs to watch the game. Things were back to normal between us as if our flash romance had never happened. He was hurt when I told him I only wanted to be friends, but after a few days he started texting me his lame jokes again—and Kiki said he’d gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend Jessica.

  The baby clung to me with a big smile on his angelic face. Vladimir’s complexion shone with adoration. The little guy bounced with joy, clutched a fistful of my hair in his tiny hand, and babbled in baby talk.

  “Who is your friend, Carter?”

  “This is my cousin, Christopher.”

  Dad walked in from the kitchen, in head to toe Ohio State garb, with a beer in his hand. “Vladimir, what a surprise. Want to join us for the game? It’s about to start.”

  “No, I don’t want to intrude, but I have a question about the claims billing system.”

  I jumped in for the save. “Sorry, Mr. Ivanov. There’s no working during OSU games, right Dad?”

  Dad shrugged apologetically. “House rules. Can I talk you into a beer instead?”

  Vladimir’s gaze flashed to mine, then to the baby’s, then back to Dad. “I would hate to break a house rule.”

  Dad patted him on the back, told him to make himself at home, and then went downstairs to join the guys in the middle-aged-frat-boy cave. Karen and her sister were in the kitchen whirling up margaritas and yowling like hyenas, and while we were alone, Vladimir kissed me.

  The baby fussed.

  “It’s time to feed him.” I motioned for Vladimir to sit in the recliner. He took off his coat, and I draped a burp cloth over his shoulder, placed Christopher in his arms, and handed him the bottle. Vladimir’s complexion glowed as the hungry baby sucked down the milk.

  I sat beside him on the arm of the chair. “You’re a natural,” I whispered.

  “He’s beautiful.” When Vladimir spoke, Christopher smiled.

  We laughed at the unexpected joy
the baby brought us. “Wish you had one?” I teased.

  “Carter, my dear, you have no idea.”

  The second the words came out of my mouth, the answer registered on his face. It was the same reason Boris wasn’t concerned over my Birth Control Crisis: it wasn’t by choice he’d never fathered a child. I felt horrible. Had I just rubbed it in?

  He read my tortured face.

  The baby coughed.

  I readjusted his position in Vladimir’s arms.

  “It wasn’t meant to be, angel.”

  Chapter 48

  Naughty

  The next morning was New Year’s Eve, one of the most celebrated Russian holidays of the year. Vladimir and I made plans for me to meet Boris at nine-thirty a.m. at our usual spot. I told Dad I was going to spend the night with Kiki and headed to the club. I hadn’t seen Boris since he had dropped me off at the airport. So much had changed since then.

  When I plopped down in the Caddy, I caught a glimpse of Boris’s expression; his eyes were locked and loaded on lie detector mode. Always on duty. I suspected he wanted to find out if I was pulling some weasel move on the boss.

  I covered my mouth with my scarf to hide my telling grin. Even Dad noticed I had miraculously bounced back from my lingering illness when I’d come home the morning after.

  “You had a nice weekend?” Boris asked.

  I kept my gaze out the window. “Da.”

  “Everything okay at home?” He tapped his rings on the steering wheel. “Got some sunshine? You have a healthy glow—matches the one boss has.”

  I snuck a sideways glance at him.

  “Over your contraception problem?”

  “Mm-hm. Wasn’t an issue.”

  He blinked in confusion. “Because?”

  “Um—”

  He had that murderous look in his eye. “You weaseled out of it?”

  “Well, uh, remember the wagers we made the night we played poker?”

  The veins popped.

  I twisted my ponytail around my hand. “His note said ‘anything,’ so I cashed it in on, you know…that.” I held out my hand and continued. “He respects my decision. Does he look unhappy to you?”

 

‹ Prev