by Lily Harlem
“I will, in a minute.” He reached for the vodka and poured another shot with a frown creasing his brow.
I gave him a knowing smile. He couldn’t stand because he had an erection, it was plain as day to me, though thankfully not everyone else.
He narrowed his eyes at me and bit on his bottom lip.
A thrill went through me. There was something carnal about his expression, something that made me think if we got a moment alone, I’d pay for making him think about us fucking when we were at the dinner table with his family.
Excitement tickled its way through my body, making my nipples tingle. I’d like to know what he’d do to me, what erotic punishment I’d get.
If only we could have some time alone together. To release some of this tension.
But that didn’t look likely to happen. Not with Zoya watching my every move.
* * * *
I slept soundly again, like I had every other night I’d been in the Arefyev home. There was something safe and calm about the apartment, not to mention the bed was warm and comfortable. I might not be catching up on the shopping I’d intended for my week off, but the sleep debt I owed my body was back in credit.
“Sammy,” Vadmir said, knocking on my door. “Are you ready now?”
“Almost.” It was the third time he’d called for me, but I’d decided to wash my hair that morning and it took an age to dry with Darya’s old Babyliss, and I didn’t dare go out into the subzero temperature with it damp. My head would freeze.
Vadmir had announced at breakfast that he wanted to go furniture shopping and would I help him pick some pieces out. I was more than happy to; it would make up for the lack of retail therapy.
I plaited my hair in two long bunches that fell over my shoulders. It wasn’t a normal style for me but it would work with the furry hat and it was a nice change from the tight up-dos I often wore for flying. My skin was still a little tanned so I applied just a sweep of powder and flick of mascara and a hint of Benefit Ultra Shine in Spiked Punch.
Quickly, I straightened the baby pink sweater I’d opted for that morning and then, after plucking some fluff from my black pants, I wandered out of the bedroom in search of Vadmir.
The apartment was quiet. I noticed Darya’s purse missing from the hook she kept it on in the kitchen. She was at work. Ruslan’s door was closed and I guessed his nurse was visiting. Zoya was more than likely also in there.
I found Vadmir in the living area, standing by the window with his hands on his hips. He was looking out at the snowy landscape that stretched into the distance.
My gaze was drawn to his ass as I walked over to him. I couldn’t help it, there was some kind of magnetic thing going on with me and his cute butt. Today he wore dark, almost black denims and a deep burgundy sweater that stopped just below the waistband of his jeans.
My palms tingled and I had the urge to touch him. It was strange thinking that we’d touched each other so intimately and now we had to keep a distance. Sneak a grope through clothes or snatch a few minutes in the car to satisfy an urge. Not that my urges had been satisfied since we’d arrived in Sokol and I wasn’t sure they would be, not when I was due to head back to Moscow tomorrow ready for my early flight the day after.
Before I knew it my hands were on his ass, sliding over the soft rise of his buttocks and exploring the shape of him through the material. Mmm, he felt good.
He stiffened for a second and then turned. “Fuck, I’m glad that’s you.”
I laughed. “I bet you are.”
He grinned and slid his arms around my waist. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine.” I slipped my hands up his chest and linked them at his nape.
“I like your hair,” he said, eyeing up my long plaits.
“Thanks.”
He lifted one and rubbed it gently. “Very pretty.”
I leaned into him, so that our chests touched.
He dropped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.
When he pulled back he poked out his tongue. “You taste sugary…delicious.”
I smiled and kissed him again. I adored this quiet side to Vadmir. This huge guy who spoke in such an unfathomable language, who’d made hard decisions for the sake of his family and was happy to fly around the world for them on a moments’ notice. He was getting to me, there was no doubt about it. Working his way under my skin the same way he’d traveled over it that first night we’d spent together. He was getting into every crease and corner, the very core of me. It was a shame I had to go so soon. That my time here had almost come to an end.
“Vadmir!”
My heart skipped at the sound of Zoya’s voice.
He broke the kiss but didn’t release me. “Dah mat'.”
“Chto ty delayesh',”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he said, more to me than his mother. “I’m kissing a beautiful woman, the perfect way to start the day.”
We drove across the river to the freeway and headed for the larger town of Vologda. Vadmir kept the speed down as the blue skies had gone and in their place heavy snow clouds were dumping their load.
Eventually, after a long crawl in traffic, we reached a large furniture store that was painted blue and had bright yellow writing. As we approached I realized it was IKEA.
“Hey,” I said. “I’ve been in these stores before.” It was the first brand I’d vaguely recognized since leaving Moscow.
“Yes, it is very good.” He turned into the covered parking lot and the snow finally stopped slapping against the windscreen.
“So what are we looking for today?” I asked as he found a space and pulled to a halt.
“New seats for the living area.”
“What, like a couch?”
“Yes, new couch and a new big chair for my father. He needs a straight back to help him breathe. Also a new table and some bookshelves or something.”
“Okay, anything else?”
“A bed for the room I sleep in. I think it is still the one I had when I was growing up. I need something else, my feet are sticking out of the end.”
I laughed. “Oh dear, you should have had my bed. It’s huge.”
“Yes, it was bought with the house, all of the guest room furniture was because they had nothing to go in there. We’ve never had a guest room before.” He switched off the engine and studied me. When he spoke again his voice was lower, husky even. “I wish I had been in that bed with you this week. It’s driving me crazy knowing you’re in there, just feet away, all warm and soft and naked and I’m not with you.”
I smiled. “I haven’t been sleeping naked in your parents’ home.”
“You would be if I was there.”
“You think so, Russian boy?”
“I do.” He moved closer, so close I could smell his cologne and feel the sleeve of his jacket brushing mine. “And that little stunt last night,” he said, “at the dinner table, if I’d been in that bed with you later I’d have made you pay for that.”
“What stunt?” I feigned shocked innocence. “There was no stunt.”
He pressed his hand to the base of my neck, thumb stretched wide from his fingers, then smoothed it up the column of my throat until he cupped my chin. He smiled wickedly, as though a whole pile of dirty thoughts were romping through his mind. “You know exactly what you did, Sammy.”
“No I don’t.” I stared into his eyes and tipped my chin.
He held my gaze. “Teasing me and making me remember fucking you. Fucking you hard against the wall and then in bed up your tight ass. You made me think of doing that, of your hot pussy around my cock, your trembling desperation for me to sink deeper, go higher, take your ass and make it mine. Make all of you mine.”
My heart beat faster. His dirty words thrilled me. “You remembered that all on your own.”
“No, you reminded me, and getting hard with my parents in the room is not something that is fun for me.”
“Maybe it is for me.”
; He squeezed my cheeks, just a little. The hold was dominant and possessive and set up a chain reaction of excitement within my body. “I’d like to turn you on,” he whispered. “Get your nipples hard and your juices flowing. I’d like to tease you, take you almost there, but just when you feel like your body is about to fly I’d leave you hanging.” He licked his lips then brushed them over mine.
I was struggling to breathe. I wanted him to do that, all of it. Hell, my nipples were already tight and my pussy dampening. Heat traveled up my neck and my face burned.
“You’d be tied up,” he said, leaning back a fraction and looking at my no doubt flushed cheeks. “Tied to the bed with black silk around your wrists so you wouldn’t be able to finish yourself off. Your control would be gone, Sammy, and I don’t think you’d like being teased, because you want the power, don’t you?”
I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t embarrassed to take what I wanted when it came to sex. Power in the bedroom was something I was used to.
“You want to take what you want when you want it.” He slipped his hand down my neck again, reached for the zipper on my jacket then slowly, very slowly he undid it enough so that he could slide his hand in.
He glided over my right breast, cupped it and squeezed.
I gasped as sensations shot around my chest and my nipple peaked.
“When we go to Miami,” he said, his voice deep and breathy, “That is exactly what I’m going to do. We’ll stay in a place with a big bed and I’ll have you spread out like a cross so there is nowhere for you to hide. I’ll fuck your mouth, your pussy, your ass…”
“Vadmir,” I said, pressing myself into his touch. “I…”
“You want it?”
“Yes.” Boy, did I ever. Except I wanted it now. I wanted him. “Perhaps we should forget the furniture shop and go find a hotel room.”
He smiled, leaned forward and kissed me, slow but deep. As our tongues tangled he fondled my breast, tweaking my nipple through my clothing.
Eventually he pulled back, refastened the zipper on my jacket and straightened my coat. “No hotel, we have shopping to do.” He pulled the keys from the ignition.
“Tease,” I said with a frown.
He tipped his head back and laughed. “I haven’t even started yet.”
Chapter Seventeen
I spotted a long, chocolate brown sofa shaped like a large L and pointed it out to Vadmir.
“I think it is perfect,” he said, dropping down on it and reading the label. “It will fill that room.”
“I agree, and look, a chair that matches. Would that be okay for Ruslan?”
“I think so.” He stood and then sat in it. “Mmm, yes.”
I tested the sofa and stretched my legs out on it. It was firm yet comfortable and the leather could be warmed up with soft cushions and throws. It would be my first choice if I had a place of my own to furnish.
“This is good.” Vadmir said. “We’ll take it. Where is that pencil and paper?”
I handed it to him and he wrote the item numbers down so we could order.
“Table next?” I said, walking past several other shoppers toward a section of tables.
He followed, with his hat pulled low, and stopped by the first one I’d seen that might be suitable.
“No,” he said, “too small.”
“Okay, how about that one, the color matches the sofa.”
“But will it match the walnut in that room?”
“Mmm, I’m not sure. Maybe go with something more contemporary, like a glass top.”
“Yes, that one is nice.”
“Perfect.”
He walked over, smoothed his hand over the surface and then wrote down the number. As he did so I studied his fingers. It was hard to not demand he touch me again. That he put those hands on me and those fingers in me. I beat down a shiver of desire. IKEA was not the place for thinking about Vadmir exploring my body.
Next we picked out a fancy cabinet for Ruslan’s hockey memorabilia then two dressing tables and stools—one each for Zoya and Darya—and a toiletry cabinet for the main bathroom.
“Bed now,” Vadmir said, poking the pencil behind his ear and the paper into his jean pocket.
“Mmm, wouldn’t that be nice.”
He grinned and slipped his arm around my waist. “Are you still feeling teased?”
“No.” I was, but not likely to admit it.
The beds were lined up in front of us. A variety of sizes, some high, some low, some with wooden headboards, some with metal. A few people were milling about, one lady was lying down, trying out a mattress for comfort.
“What do you think?” I asked, looking around. “A king size.”
“Yes, the bigger the better.”
“I agree.”
He dropped his arm from my waist and touched the slatted wooden headboard of a large bed that had a pale, square frame. “I like this one.”
“It looks okay.” I sat on the edge and gave a little bounce.
“No, do it properly,” he said. “Like this.” He sat heavily and then swung his legs ’round and rested his head on a plastic covered pillow.
“How is it?” I asked, joining him in a supine position. The pillow rustled by my ears.
“Not bad.” He turned to me and shuffled closer. “What do you think?”
“It’s firm.”
“Is that good?” He asked.
“It is in my book.” I twisted to my side to face him. Our noses were only inches apart.
“And what about this headboard?” he asked, a naughty glint catching in his eye.
“It’s very nice.”
“Why?”
I glanced up at the slats. They were flat and about two inches apart. “I guess it’s modern.”
“And…?” He licked his lips and then tugged at the bottom one with his teeth. “What else?”
“Stylish.”
He grinned. “And…?”
I hesitated. “And…”
His grin broadened. “And good for tying hot, beautiful women to who need to be taught to surrender control from time to time.” He brushed the back of his index finger down my cheek. “Women like you.”
God, if only I could remove everyone else in the store with one flick of a magic wand, I wouldn’t hesitate. “Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Perhaps I’d like to tie you up and have my wicked way with a big, bad hockey player who thinks it’s okay to prey on innocent women who are helping them shop.”
“There’s nothing innocent about you, Sammy.” He tipped forward and pressed a kiss to my mouth.
I leaned into it and then spoke onto his lips. “Mmm, I guess not. But that doesn’t mean you can get me going in the car and then drag me around IKEA.”
“I like that I can turn you on. Turn you on with words and thoughts. We have some hot memories to play with.”
“It would be good to make some more.” I pressed my hand to his chest and slid it down to his belly. “Turn some of those thoughts into reality.”
He captured my wrist and dragged it up between us. “Oh, no, not in here. I refuse to get hard in IKEA.”
“I bet you’re hard already.”
“No.” He frowned.
I raised my brows in an I-don’t-believe-you expression.
“Witch,” he said, then with one flick of his arm he rolled me over, onto my belly, and delivered a hard slap to my ass.
I squealed, protected my butt with my hands and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Ow, fuck, that hurt, Vadmir.” As soon as my feet hit the floor I went crashing head first into a sales assistant.
“Yest' li chto-to, chto ya mogu pomoch' vam s?” he said, folding his arms and looking sternly between me and Vadmir.
“No, we do not need any help,” Vadmir said, then appeared to remember where he was and converted back to Russian and spoke again.
The sales assistant replied with the same irritated tone as he’d spoken in
previously. He frowned and gestured at me and then around the store.
Vadmir got off the mattress and rose to his full height. Slowly, deliberately, as if he had taken great offense to being spoken to in that way. He then straightened his hat and walked around the end of the bed.
The sales assistant dropped his arms, took a step back and looked up as Vadmir approached. I wasn’t sure but he appeared to lose a shade of color in his face.
“He wants to know if we are purchasing this bed, so what do you think, Sammy?” Vadmir said, not taking his attention from the assistant, “shall I tell him this bed is perfect for stripping you naked, attaching you to the headboard and then doing unthinkable things to your sexy body? That I am already picturing it, already imagining you writhing in ecstasy on it?”
“You could,” I said with a shrug, “or maybe explain how you’d feel if I had you strapped down and I was sucking your cock until you begged for mercy. I think this bed would be good for that, it’s strong enough to cope with you bucking around.”
He looked at me, pretended to ponder my suggestion then gave his attention to the assistant again. A long string of Russian poured from his mouth, guttural and raw and associated with hand gestures.
I loved it. Damn the man was sexy when he went all Soviet.
The assistant quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Vadmir.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I told him that I would be taking the bed because the crazy American lady wants to play dirty games with me and I think it will stand up to her wild demands of my body.”
My mouth fell open. “You didn’t?”
He shrugged. “Honesty is the best programme.”
“Policy,” I said, “honesty is the best policy and not in every case.”
He laughed. “Come on, we have finished shopping now. He has written down the item number, we will go and collect our furniture.”
He took my hand and tugged me along. My cheeks were hot and my heart racing. I glanced over my shoulder at the member of staff. He was standing by his workstation fiddling with a pencil. He was also staring at me, watching us leave.
