by Selena Scott
Now, all of them were laughing. Glory crawled across the blanket to Emin. “Does that mean what I think it does?” she whispered to her husband.
“What do you think it means?” he whispered back. She cupped her hand to his ear, and explained her thoughts. His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open.
“No, kvietka. No. That is not what that means.” He laughed and kissed her breathless.
“Mama?” Linc prodded, really wanting to know the answer now that he saw how riled it had gotten the grown-ups.
“Well,” Ivy started, trying to figure out how to back into this answer. She always defaulted with honesty with Linc. She figured he was pretty close to being able to google anything he wanted so he might as well hear the truth from her. “First of all, they’re not nice words. So most people don’t say them around other people.”
“Anton did.”
“Well, Anton is a grown man who can decide about stuff like that without his Mama.”
“Okay,” Linc accepted that grudgingly. Mostly because he liked Anton and had the feeling he was kind of tattling on him by accident. “But what does it mean?”
“It means that a man likes one woman more than any other woman. And he wants to be close to her all the time. More than he wants to do anything else.”
Linc absorbed that for a second, squinched his face. “I thought that was called marriage.”
There was an overload of hooting now.
“You just said a mouthful, kid,” Danil grinned, tracing a hand over Dora’s miraculous face.
CHAPTER SIX
Maxim was considering taking up knitting. Or collecting baseball cards. Or reorganizing all the spices on the shelf for the tenth time. He had to find somewhere to put all this energy. Anything to get his mind on something other than Ivy. Specifically Ivy’s body.
Speaking of pussy-whipped.
And he hadn’t even gotten any in over six months. The dry spell didn’t bother him so much as the constant, devastating proximity to the particular pussy in question. Ever since the swimming party with his family, he’d seen Ivy and Linc every day for the past week. His sick leave was almost up. It was gonna be hard to go back after getting to spend so much time with them every day.
Ilya felt strongly that Linc needed to be training his bear daily, especially if Ivy wanted him in kindergarten in the fall. He would be a threat to himself and to other kids if he didn’t have that part of himself under control.
The kid was a good student. Every day he trained with Ilya, Maxim, and whichever of his brothers could spare a minute. Linc had yet to shift into his bear at will, though he’d shifted involuntarily twice, stayed calm, and was able to shift back.
Ilya, who had trained all of his sons, swore that Linc was a natural. On his way toward full control any day.
Maxim wished the same could be said for him. But he was operating at a constant 30% control and having to make do the rest of the time. He wasn’t a rusher by nature. But there was something about Ivy that called to him. And every second he spent not making her his, well, it grated against something deep inside him. He felt like a beast lashed to a pole with a cool glass of water just an inch past his reach.
So that evening, while Maxim carried an exhausted Linc up the front stairs to Ivy’s little house, his body tugged him toward Ivy and his brain tugged him away. He wasn’t sure he could take another evening of chatting, smelling her scent, her hair brushing his arm. He’d just have to be strong enough to pass off Linc, give her a nod, smile and make tracks.
And then she opened the door. Her gorgeous body pressed against a lavender V-neck shirt she was wearing tucked into some old, snug jeans, white at the creases and rips up the legs. Her feet were bare and the delicate gold necklace glinted where it danced over her collarbones. Her hair was saturated with color, bright and dark at the same time. And her eyes absolutely zinged with excitement and light.
Yup. She was beautiful, magnetic, smelled like a flower garden, and of course he was gonna come in and slowly lose his mind, just like every night for the past week.
“Hi!” she said, bouncing on her feet and reaching out for Linc.
“I got him,” Maxim said, not quite ready to pass him over yet. The kid had been a chatterbox in the car on the way here and he’d finally conked out about five minutes ago. Maxim was enjoying the warm pliancy of a trusting kiddo on his shoulder.
“Hey, Mama,” Linc said sleepily, rubbing his tired eyes against Maxim’s neck.
“Hey, ace.” She traced a hand over her son’s back and her hand rubbed over Maxim’s forearm. She leaned forward to kiss Linc’s cheek, washing her scent over Maxim. He refused to close his eyes and breathe her in. No. That was madness.
“He have dinner?” she asked Maxim.
“Twice. Katya likes her men big and strong.” Maxim pinched at Linc’s tiny little arm and the boy sleepily giggled.
“Alright, then it’s a quick bath and then bed, okay?” Ivy turned, walked back toward the bathroom and Maxim followed, kicking off his shoes and then shucking off Linc’s as well.
He stood Linc up on the toilet seat while Ivy ran the bath, came over and stripped her boy for the bath. Maxim dragged his palm over Linc’s head just once and then turned to go.
“Maxim.” Ivy’s voice had him stopping full in his tracks. “If you have a sec, could you stay? I’ve got some good news for you.”
He nodded immediately, too happy to feel like a fool.
“Great,” she said. “There’s beer in the fridge, some snacks if you want them.”
Maxim wandered out through her house, the sounds of bath time following him. He popped a beer, like she’d suggested, and really looked around. It was a small house, but homey. She’d done a lot in the few weeks that they’d been living there. There was lavender on the window sill over the sink. Colorful baubles hanging in the window. A spray of mismatched magnets on the fridge.
He wandered into the family room where Linc’s toys were vaguely organized in one corner. The room had a sliding door that overlooked the backyard and Maxim flicked on the back porch light. There were books on the shelves here. A small TV that balanced precariously on a stack of picture books, as if it were an afterthought. Pictures on the walls. Linc as a baby, two older people he assumed were the parents that lived in the Florida retirement home. Maxim followed the trail of pictures to one that sat on the table next to the comfortable, shabby couch.
He picked up the framed polaroid as he sat back on the couch. And felt an odd, twisting discomfort in his stomach as he looked at it. Ivy with a jet black bob. Younger. She wore a football jersey and had a red Solo cup in one hand. She sneered, friendly, at the camera. Her arm was slung around the waist of a young man. Her age. Dark brown hair and dark eyes, smiling a tight smile at the camera. Their faces were the brightest part of the dark photo, their light washing out the background into a muddy dark.
Maxim set the photo down. Maybe it made him dumb. But he had never truly considered Linc’s father before this. He didn’t begrudge Ivy’s life. And jealousy wasn’t an emotion that sat well on Maxim’s shoulders. She never spoke of him, so he didn’t think there were a ton of feelings left on her side at least; Maxim would have sensed if there were. But they had a child together. That was a bond that Maxim could just barely understand.
He heard her padding down the hall and Maxim swallowed hard. Fixed his face. Whatever his feelings were, he refused to make them her problem. Taking a deep breath, he stretched a hand out over the back of the couch.
“He went out like a light. You guys must have really worn him out!”
He couldn’t ignore the flip his heart did in his chest when she came right up on the couch next to him, stretching her feet out on the coffee table like she owned the place. Which she did, of course.
“He was good boy today,” Maxim said, his accent thick for some reason. There was too much in his head to concentrate on it right now. “Hard worker.”
“Well, he looks up to you guys so mu
ch I think it makes him feel good to be working hard alongside you.”
“You have good news,” Maxim guessed after a minute.
She nodded, twisting to look up at him, her eyes glowing and dragging him in, just like they always did. “I got a job!”
She jumped up off the couch and clapped her hands together, just once. Shook her hips in a little dance that looked exactly like Linc when he got happy.
Maxim grinned, and reached for her, drawing her back down to the couch. His uncomfortable feeling from moments before melted away. She melted it away with her warmth and heat and happiness.
“Tell me.”
“Well, it’s not much. Just an office manager position. But it’s full time. And it’s over by Linc’s school. So picking him up and dropping him off is gonna be a breeze. And they said that as long as he doesn’t cause trouble, any day that I have to stay late, he can stay, too.”
Maxim grinned at her grin. But he kind of felt like a dope. If this was such a victorious relief to her, it must mean that she’d been truly worried about it for a while. He would have helped her if he’d known.
“And I haven’t told you the best part yet.” She grabbed the beer out of his hands, took a giant swig and passed it back to him. His heart squeezed at the intimacy and ease of the action. “Health insurance and dental!”
She couldn’t help herself, apparently. She jumped up and did the little dance again. “Heeeeeeeealth insurance and dennnnnnntal!”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
“This is very good news, rusalka.”
“Rusalka?” she repeated, stopping her dance and cocking her head to one side.
“Mermaid,” he translated.
“Oh!” she laughed. “Well, I made myself extra rusalka-ish today, did you notice?” She dragged a hand through her hair, letting it cascade down over her breasts. “I re-dyed my hair.”
He froze for a moment. Forced himself to take a swallow of beer. “You did this for me?”
“Well.” She frowned down at the tips of hair between her fingers. “And for me, too. But you liked it so much that-”
Well, he couldn’t help himself. He set his beer aside. Looping a finger through the pocket of her jeans, he dragged her down onto his lap. She laughed and gasped, staring up at him with those big, dark eyes.
“Ivy,” he said, deciding right then and there to put all his chips on the table. What did he need them for? All those chips were hers anyways. “You are still making up your mind about me. And I understand that you have Linc to think of. He needs steady life. Good life with good people.”
Maxim held her still with one hand around her hips. He petted her hair with the other. An unconscious need that she noticed more than he did. He stared right into her eyes. And he felt he was standing at the edge of a cliff. He could let himself be dragged in and fall forever. A delicious, rushing forever. Or he could step back from the edge and stay on his two feet. He’d been on his two feet his whole life. He knew which one he was choosing. It was up to her to choose now. “I will not pressure you. But I tell you the truth.”
What did he have to lose anyways?
“The truth?” she asked, still as an ice sculpture in his arms.
Maxim nodded and scrubbed a hand over his stubble. “The truth is, the night I spent with you six months ago was the most-” He struggled for the English. But he would get it out if it killed him. “Human, inhuman thing that ever happened to me.”
She raised an eyebrow. Okay. So maybe he should have looked up the words in his English dictionary first, because apparently that wasn't doing it for her.
“What I mean is that it is the most connected I ever feel to another. Your heart, your feelings, your pleasure. It was no image on screen. It was no pretend imaginary character. It was you. Your - your-”
“My humanity. You saw my humanity.”
“Yes,” he nodded, absurdly relieved that she was understanding.
“What did you mean by the inhuman part?”
He wracked his brain. “I mean that you were more than human. You were miracle. Everything I ever want. The hottest little piece…” He trailed off. Started again. “That was best sex of my life.” He finally summed it up. “That cannot even be named sex. All other sex should bow down.”
“Maxim,” she started, an expression on her face that softened her.
“Let me finish. I am good man, Ivy.” His voice was low and steady even though something within him quaked. “I am proud of my life. I treat people well. And I want to touch you so bad I can't breathe. Always.”
“Damn it, Maxim,” she huffed, leaning back so her head was on the armrest of the couch. Didn't he see that he was ruining her life right now? Destroying her for other men? What the hell was she gonna do when this ended? Who the hell could she possibly date after him? Nobody, that's who. Because nobody could possibly compare to him even when it was only sex. But now he was carrying her son up her front steps and being all honest and shit.
Damn it!!!!
Linc so still in his arms as he carried him up the ravine. Maxim’s face red and then blue in the light from the ambulance.
She thought of her life. The perfect little package she and Linc made. She thought of the sheer terror of opening up that package to somebody else. With both a sinking and a rising, she realized that she already had.
Maxim kneeling in front of her son, coaxing him into shifting. Teaching how to fight through the pain.
If he’d already ruined her for everyone else, then why shouldn't she have the good parts? Maybe it couldn't last forever. But didn't that mean that she should make it great while it did? She knew it wasn’t going to be a husband and wife kind of thing. Or even probably monogamous. But she could enjoy the sex, the intimacy, without tying them both down.
“It was just supposed to be a one-night stand,” she muttered. And was surprised when genuine hurt filtered through his expression. Most guys would try to hide that. Not Maxim. She cocked her head at him. “But you just won't quit, huh?”
He furrowed his brow, confusion and hurt warring on his face.
“Well, that's a good thing,” she said, sitting up and swinging a leg over his lap so she straddled him. “Because I won't either.”
She had a half second to see the smile flash across his face. But that was it before she smashed her lips down on his.
A guttural groan ripped out of him as his hands tightened on her hips. The first time they ever came together was a slow slide into a deep pool. They hadn't surfaced for hours. Hadn't known where the water ended and they began.
This... was not like that. This was a frantic, skidding ricochet over the top of a wave. So bright and fast it stung the skin, left windburn, tossed and whipped them like skipping stones.
Ivy grunted in frustration when his hair was too short for her to get any grip on it. She raked her fingers over his scalp, settled for gripping the back of his neck, fisting one hand in the collar of his t-shirt.
She sucked his tongue into her mouth and still needed more. Their teeth clacked together and she pushed her hips down in response. This. This. This is what she needed.
Maxim’s hands were huge and everywhere. His palms hot and rough as they worked their way under her shirt, dragging over her soft skin. He snaked one hand under her bra, closed his hand over her breast and kneaded her. Her head fell back and she moaned, melting into the feeling.
His mouth closed over hers, swallowing the moan.
“Quiet, for boy,” he muttered. But then latched his mouth onto her pulse point and made her moan again.
Ivy could feel his stiff cock through his jeans and she rubbed herself against it. Wildly anxious for any sort of friction. Any sort of release.
Standing up off of him suddenly, she was wild-eyed and breathing hard. She ripped her shirt off over her head, fumbled with her jeans, kicking out of them. She was vaguely aware of that thing called foreplay. But fuck it, who needed that after the week she’d had? Maxim’s scent and body and heat
every-fucking-where. She couldn’t turn around without coming face to face with the little hairs racing up his arm. With the v of his muscles arrowing down into the top of his jeans. She didn’t need any more revving up. She had a problem and she needed it taken care of now. Like, yesterday.
“I need this, Maxim,” she panted. It was true. Searingly true. But something inside her screamed for one last layer of protection. Who in their right mind got naked and laid out on the train tracks, waiting for the 4:05 to Monterrey? She couldn’t afford to let anyone fillet her heart. Her body, however, he could do whatever the hell he wanted to. “I need it so bad. But it won’t mean we’re together, alright? Let’s just do this for each other. Let’s make each other feel good.”
She tucked her knuckles into her panties, ready to wrench them away from her legs but Maxim’s huge hands stopped her.
He stood, pulled his own shirt over his head, skinned out of his pants and tossed them away. He was inches away from her, breathing fast and somehow staring at all of her at once.
He flicked his hands around her back and Ivy was conscious of her bra falling away. Next, he kneeled in front of her, and her panties slid away.
She tried to kneel too, but he held her standing.
“Maxim,” she whispered, urgently. “Now.”
“Yes, now,” he agreed. “But first I must do something I didn’t do before.”
Before she could ask, he was tipping her backwards, laying her gently out on her carpet. On all fours over her, Maxim arranged her hair out in a fan around her. Ivy arched her back, wanting any kind of relief from the ache between her legs but receiving none.
He started at her feet. Lifting one and then the other, he traced his hands over her heel, the arch, he slipped a finger between every one of her toes.
She gasped and flinched at each tickling sensation, overwhelmed when his hands circled her ankles, moved up her calves. He lifted one leg and planted a warm, open mouth kiss to the back of her knee, moved to the front. Coming over her, he rubbed his chest on her thigh, crawled forward so that his cock, straining against his underwear, slipped across the flesh of her leg, for just a moment. And then he was all hands again.
