by Haven Rose
“You are evil, woman. I wasn’t teasing that time, just surprised.” As if he doubts himself, or his eyes, he shows it to me, and asks, “Am I wrong?”
“Nope,” I mutter, shocked. “It has him as being Romeo Cupid.”
Jackson stares at me, and wants to know, “You don’t really think?”
“Nah. It can’t be. Right?” Saving us from driving ourselves crazy with curiosity, Micah returns in that moment and Jackson helps the next customer in line.
“I hate that I have to leave, moy vozdukh. Would you like to accompany me to a party Friday night?” I groan, torn for the first time in my friendship with Junie, but as much as I want, need, to accept, I will not miss her and Milo’s celebration. Micah, unfortunately, misunderstands and holds his hand up, as if in acceptance, which, honestly, seems completely against his MO. And I when I realize it’s not, I feel like I can breathe again, not that I’d realized I’d stopped until just then. “I don’t want to share you, but I can’t not attend.”
“I feel the same way, however, I have a previous engagement,” he growls over that last word, so I change it to event which seems to help, “that I can’t miss.”
Caressing my cheek, he wants to know, “I truly hope you don’t have a date.”
“And if I did?” I ask, knowingly, and immensely enjoying, poking in search of trouble, or a reaction. Micah somehow gives me both with his answer.
“I’d kill him.” Okay. I’m not sure if he’s serious, though he doesn’t appear to be joking. The thing is, I know I’m in the former because his statement, said so boldly and without hesitation, doesn’t upset me. Honestly, I’d have the same if the situation was reversed. The only reason I’m not is because he wouldn’t have asked me if he was taking another woman. Never knew I was bloodthirsty before, apparently, all I needed was the mere idea of my man – mine? – with anyone else.
“Well, this is one blemish on your soul,” he blinks at me, and I feel as if I just surprised him, “that isn’t necessary. I’m single.” I make sure to slide that in there, not that I believe he’d let the fact if I wasn’t be an obstacle for long.
Point proven when he responds, “Not anymore you aren’t.”
“I’d say that’s awful presumptuous of you considering we just met, but instead I’m informing you, ditto.” He smiles, the corners of his lips a little twitchy, making me wonder if he doesn’t do it often, but it feels genuine nonetheless.
“Tomorrow? We’ll make it our own Valentine’s Day.” Why does that sound romantic and not at all cheesy?
“I’d love that.”
Micah leans forward, his breath making goosebumps spread all over my skin, and whispers, “I may not let you go.”
I feel the need to let him know, “I think I’d be more than okay with that.”
Chapter Eight
Valentina
February 13th…
Micah has proven to be a true gentleman since picking me up. His eyes, however, have been heated all night, as have his hands each minute they linger on my body. And every time, I want it to be longer. Hell, I want it to last all night. Unlocking my door, we hang our coats up after closing it behind us, and I admit a bit bashfully, “This isn’t like me. I don’t invite men I’ve just met inside my home, especially not on the first date.”
“I don’t either,” he agrees, making me giggle, but I can see the sincerity in his eyes. This is unusual behavior for both of us. That has to mean something, right? When he leans down and slowly takes my mouth with his, I know it does.
I’m not sure how it happens – okay, I have an idea, it’s just that my mind has completely blanked out as Micah becomes its sole focus – but I’m in his arms, and we’re not so much fighting for control as we are for a future. I can feel it in my soul. And in his. He devours me is the only word I can think of, and even then, it doesn’t seem to be fierce enough to describe what he’s doing. Moaning, I place my hands on his shoulders and squeeze, hoping he gets my hint. His hands slide down to my ass, his fingers seeming to enjoy the path as he does so slowly, then he cups it in his palms and lifts me.
My legs wrap around his waist and I immediately begin rubbing my core against him. I’m so turned on I could come from the friction alone. I thought the dream I had of us was hot, but actually experiencing it? Incendiary.
And I am more than willing to go up in flames with him.
**Micah**
We burn hot as hell when we touch, which is fitting as I’d take on the devil himself to protect her. My sanity is saved as we stumble around, neither willing to break our contact, and bump into the couch. I lay her down and immediately cover her with my body. She groans, and I worry I’m too heavy for her and attempt to rest my weight on my palms, but she’s not having it. Valentina yanks me to her, then tunnels her fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends as I grind my hard cock in her center.
We lose ourselves in each other, breaking apart only when our lungs scream for oxygen. Stopping long enough to drag some in, we immediately surge together again, after stripping our respective shirts off, that is. She stares at my chest, hesitantly reaching out to touch it but not making contact. I don’t like that. Grabbing them, I place them on me, my hips instinctively pumping when her nails dig in. Needing more, I shove her skirt up as her right hand moves to unzip my pants, then unabashedly dives in the hole she created and cups me.
“Holy mother of fuck,” I curse, making her giggle.
“Well, that’s new,” she says in my ear before nibbling on the lobe.
“Moy vozdukh,” I whisper as if in prayer.
“You called me that yesterday. What does it mean?” She asks, squeezing me before her grip slides toward the tip. If I had the strength to move, I’d pat myself on the back for wearing boxers tonight because of the lack of restriction they offer.
“My air.” She tilts her head, seriousness entering her eyes, her hand halting the pleasure it’s giving me, and asks why. “The second I saw you; I knew I needed you to truly live.”
“That a lot of pressure on a girl.”
“Not when she’s meant to be mine and me hers.”
“Is that so?” I tell her it is, to which she responds, “Okay.”
And her fate is sealed.
**Valentina**
Being with Micah calms all my fears, soothes the worries I unknowingly had about not finding what my parents did. It isn’t that it wasn’t in the cards for me, only that I hadn’t met the man that would give it to me yet.
Now that I have? Waiting for the inevitable seems stupid. He and I will make love. Our present will lead to a future beyond our wildest dreams, creating a happiness that two days ago felt unfathomable. “Take me, Micah,” I urge.
“Not here,” he tries to resist, but I know we’re each too close to the edge to delay this any longer. It wasn’t exactly polite conversation, but over dinner we discussed our pasts in regards to relationships, as in that we each have avoided any sort of entanglement outside of our families. Neither of us could remember the last time we’d gone on a date nor even wanted to, so the matter of protection and diseases had been covered. As had the fact that more than a handful of years had passed since either of us had indulged, so to speak.
That being said, when he pulled a condom from his wallet, I knew it was purchased with me in mind, as had the barely there bra and panty set I’d picked up today for him. If his growl at seeing them since this started was any indication, they were a hit. Hurrying to get completely naked, I take in the view as he does the same after setting two packets on the coffee table.
“Gotta say,” I begin, hoping I sound as sexy as I’m trying to, “that bodes well for my night.” Then I tip my head at where he placed them.
“Baby,” he vows, “that’s just the beginning.” He quickly rips one and slides it down his dick, an act I apparently find a turn on when it comes to him, and notches the tip just inside my folds. “Fuck,” he curses, followed by a string of what I can only assume is along the same line
s but in Russian as he shoves in.
My head falls when he’s fully seated, the ridges noticeable against my walls even through the latex, and a part of me wishes I could feel him without it. Then he starts moving and that flies away as I bask in the ecstasy he’s giving me. It’s quick, though no less satisfying, and his thrusts hit that spot every time that makes me gush around him. I swear I hear him propose as we strain toward climax, and I think I accept as I feel the heat from his release fill the condom.
We collapse, not moving until he gingerly withdraws, the loss of him inside me causing an ache, and he stands to dispose of it. Rising to join him, I grab his hand and lead him to my bedroom, pointing at the bathroom in the hall along the way.
Giving him a kiss, sweeping his bottom lip with my tongue, I tease, “I’ll be waiting for you.” Holding up the second foil wrapper, I give him a wink then saunter forward, throwing a glance at him over my shoulder, proud to find him staring at me as if in a stupor. The thing that gets him moving? Skimming my hands up to my breasts, I cup them, reveling in the power I feel as his nostrils flare. In the blink of an eye, he disappears and returns, then scoops me in his arms and proceeds to show me over and over that my body is his to command.
Chapter Nine
Valentina
February 14th…
“I can’t wait to see what Val is wearing,” I hear Junie tell Milo. He sees me behind her and smiles, deciding to have some fun with her.
“I’m starting to get a complex here, wife,” and then he pouts. The doofus.
“Oh stop,” she tells him, placing a smacking kiss on him. “I just know her outfit will be beautifully hilarious.”
“That’s not a thing,” he tries to correct her, but she merely shrugs and states he’ll learn.
“My ears were burning, and now I know why,” I whisper, giggling when I startle Junie, making her squeal and execute a jump, turning in midair to face me. “That’s a neat trick,” I say with pride.
She grins, then blushes when Milo admits he’s caught her practicing it in the mirror. Junie slaps his ass, saying she has not. He apologizes, stating he was teasing, but nods the second she stops glaring at him. I crack up, enjoying this side of my best friend. Her family was killing her spirit every day she had to spend with them, but Milo has brought the life back to her eyes. She’s the center of his world, something that took her a bit to get used to considering she didn’t even factor in any of theirs.
“Let me see,” she pleads. I’m tempted to make her wait until everyone else arrives since I came early in case they needed in help. I should’ve known Mrs. Jenner had everything under control and would make it look easy while doing so.
Taking off my coat, I feel triumphant at her gasp, which is immediately followed by what can only be described as a howl of laughter. My dress, using one of her simpler designs, is pink, and the rest is my own little twist. There are white skulls embroidered on both the top and bottom, red roses clamped between their teeth.
Milo, sounding a bit unsure, mutters, “Uhh, it’s festive?”
Junie, knowing me as well as she does, lets him know I have a reason. “This is to celebrate your wedding, the vows you both took tying your lives together.” Junie giggles, already aware of where this is going. “Till death do us part.”
“And even after that, we’ll still be together. Death itself wouldn’t take me on,” a voice that has burrowed its way into my soul and heart, as has the owner of it, declares. I repeat Junie’s earlier impressive feat, unable to believe he’s here. I start looking around, wondering if Junie hung mistletoe as it’s what initially brought her and Milo together, and the magic of it is giving me the person I wanted most at my side. “What are you searching for, moy vozdukh?”
**Micah**
“Nothing,” she answers as I take her in my arms. “Everything I wanted is right here.”
“Anyone wanna clue me in here?” Milo asks with an expression that can only be described as smug. And I know why now that I realize my Valentina is Junie’s Val. I hadn’t put it together before because why would I? The odds of them being the same woman were what? One in a million? Then again, my Valentina is that herself, so it makes complete sense.
“Baba sent me to Carmichael Candies,” I begin the story, to which my woman finishes with a giggle, “and he found another dessert he wanted for himself.” Junie laughs, obviously enjoying this as she’s used to her friend’s humor, while Milo plugs his ears.
I want to slip the ring I’d picked up after reluctantly leaving Valentina’s warm bed where she was wrapped around me this morning on her finger, but I’m not sure if she remembers me proposing, and her accepting. Nor that I meant it. In my heart, she’s already mine, making it official is a formality for the sake of our families.
Feeling Milo’s gaze on me, I see the surprise in it. Sure, he’s seen me smile, heard me laugh, but I know he’s never seen me this…carefree. I know we’ll be talking later. It’s a little-known fact that men can be the worst at gossiping, especially when you’ve been friends as long as he and I have and the proof of how gone I am for her is literally staring him in the eyes.
A couple hours later, everything finished down to the last detail, the guests start arriving and the rest of the night is spent mingling. Valentina’s hand is firmly in mine the whole time because I’ve seen the second and third glances she’s getting. Yes, she’s stunning, but she’s mine, and I’d hate to shed blood at Milo and Junie’s reception, but if this one fucker doesn’t stop watching her, it’ll happen.
“Dude, chill,” Milo advises me, retrieving a flute of champagne from my hand. Probably a smart move on his part. Especially as his next question is, “So, when’s the wedding?” The jerk is poking me, his smirk telling me he’s having way too much fun with this. “Payback is a bitch,” he retorts at my glare. “I should’ve known when you got weird giving me Val’s information, but you hadn’t even met her yet.”
“Didn’t need to,” I confess, and it’s true. Something felt right when I heard it, but I didn’t have the time to explore it or do anything about it because of his situation, the holidays, and a bunch of family stuff. “As for the wedding, she might not know my proposal was real.”
“How is that possible?” He questions me, confused.
“We might’ve been otherwise engaged at the time.” He loses it, and I’m tempted to push him, not caring it’s a bit childish, but his wife saves him. For now, that is as he continually looks at me until the place clears out, mirth lurking in his eyes each time.
I need a new best friend; this one is broken.
Chapter Ten
Micah
March 14th…
We officially met a month and two days ago, and had our first date not even twenty-four hours later, so that’s more than enough time to try proposing again, right? I know I want to, but I’m not sure if she’s ready. Case in point, she’s started withdrawing. Oh, she’s sitting in front of me, but it’s as if she’s no longer here. I’d been telling her about my family, listing them by name, hoping it made her feel as if she knows them in some way before actually meeting them. I’ve invited her to a few gatherings, but something always comes up, making her unable to attend. But now, I’m beginning to wonder about that.
“So,” she says quietly, “your grandfathers are Alek and Grisha, and their wives are Lidiya and Irini, respectively.” I nod, proud she remembered the names and how they’re paired. “And your uncles on your dad, Maksim’s, side are…” I wait, not wanting her to feel as if I’m rushing her, “Lev and Simeon, married to Odessa and Vilma. The first couple have Pyotr and Tatiana, and the second Yuri and Lara.” I grin to let her know she’s correct, and she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Your mom, Sarra, has a sister named Karine. Her husband is Benedikt, and they have daughters, Katia and Nadya. Oh, and your sister is Annika.” She takes a deep breath, as if she’s winded, then gives me a genuine grin when she tells me, “Such beautiful names.” I thank her, though I had nothing
to do with that, but the manners ingrained in me from a young age urge me to do so nonetheless.
She tells me about her family, and I know she’s glossing over some parts, those that make her visibly upset even if she’s trying not to show it. We talk a while longer, but she circles back to my relatives. When she asks if they’re all from Russia, I tell her they aren’t, which appears to make her happy, until I state that my uncles and aunt learned their spouses do have it in their ancestry, though. The remainder of our date, sadly, sort of goes downhill from there. No matter what I do, Valentina has become a shadow of her usual self.
I go home not long after that, the first time we haven’t shared a bed in a month, and fear that I’ve lost her without even knowing why.
Chapter Eleven
Valentina
March 17th…
“I know we’ve been here before,” Junie mutters. She cocks her head and says, “Well, same players and similar situation, but the location has changed.” She’s referring to when she stayed with me following that issue with Milo.
“The situation, as you so politely labeled the demise of my relationship, is different.”
“Girl, I love you more than anyone aside from Milo,” I nod, knowing this is true, and understanding that’s how it should be, “but you have to stop.” Looking at her, I let my confusion show, to which she sighs, then answers slowly, as if I’ve suddenly lost my mind. Perhaps I have. “When did you become so dramatic?”
“Where’s my sympathy?” I pout.
“Never doubt I am always on your side. I don’t care that I’m still unsure exactly what he did wrong, all I need to know is he did. For that, I’ll grab a ladder, climb it, and punch him in the face,” Junie vows, her expression completely serious. She’d do it, too. The woman is protective when it comes to those she loves.