by Roxie Rivera
"Ah!" Head thrown back and hips snapping wildly, Benny pushed her pussy firmly against his mouth and rode the blissful waves of her climax. Loving the sound of her going crazy with pleasure, he drew it out as long as possible, only pulling back when she dropped down to the mattress and whimpered.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Dimitri slid down next to her, rolled onto his back and dragged her on top of him. Heavy with his baby, Benny presented the most erotic vision as she straddled his legs. Grasping her bottom in one hand and his thick cock in the other, he pressed the head of it between her plump, wet labia until he was right where he wanted to be.
He gently thrust up into his wife, always mindful of her comfort, and watched her face for signs that she needed him to adjust his tactics. Her smoky eyes closed briefly, and she bit her lip. "You feel so good, Dimitri."
Palming her breast, he circled her sensitive nipple with his thumb and urged her to ride him. "Make me come, Benny."
Hands on his chest, she worked her hips back and forth and swiveled until she found a pace that made them both groan. He caressed her breasts, taking care not to pinch her nipples too hard, and then settled his hands on that luscious ass. He guided her movements, telling her with a squeeze and a playful swat just how fast and hard he wanted it.
A pulsing, throbbing heat started low in his belly. A slight buzz traveled through his legs. Balls tight, he clamped down on his building orgasm, hoping to hold off just long enough for Benny to find her release. He licked his thumb and placed the wide digit just to the side of her stiff clit.
With a little strumming motion, Benny shattered atop him, her entire body quaking as she climaxed long and hard. The fluttering squeeze of her pussy was all it took to make him lose control. Unleashing the tether on his own release, Dimitri let the spasms of her cunt milk him dry.
She fell forward, and he gathered her in his arms. Ever so carefully, he placed her on her side and dragged the quilt up over their naked bodies. Side by side, they smiled, kissed and petted until Benny finally succumbed to the exhaustion of another long day. Not quite ready to all asleep, he was content to stroke her hair and hold her close.
For a long time, he simply stared down at the dark-haired vixen he had loved from afar for so long. Sometimes he couldn't believe that only a few short months ago, he had feared she would never see him as anything other than her friend. Now she carried his last name and his child. It didn't seem possible that any man should be so lucky, but he was.
He was the luckiest man in the world.
You can read Benny and Dimitri's romance in DIMITRI (Her Russian Protector #2) available now in ebook and in print. An audiobook version will be available in early 2014.
A Luxury Sleigh Ride
ALEXEI
Stretching his aching neck, Alexei Sarnov crossed his office while waiting for Nikolai to answer his call. He made his way to the glass wall that allowed him to look down into the bullpen of car salesman at his flagship luxury dealership. This late on Christmas Eve, there were just a handful of his employees puttering around the place, most of them wrapping up delivery details for Christmas morning surprises.
"Alexei!" Festive music blared in the background but grew softer as Nikolai seemed to dart into a quiet area at his restaurant.
He smiled at Nikolai's warm greeting. "How are you?"
"Very well, and you?"
"I can't complain." With the year shaping up to be the very best since he had opened, Alexei honestly couldn't. "I'm sure you're busy with the Samovar Christmas party but I wanted to make sure the car delivered earlier met your standards?"
Last week, his former boss had come to the dealership looking for a car for the waitress and artist he regarded as his ward. Alexei suspected there was more than simple platonic affection between them but he would never voice those thoughts aloud. Nikolai might not be his boss anymore but he was still an incredibly powerful and dangerous man, the sort Alexei absolutely did not want as an enemy.
"It's perfect, Alexei. I'm sure she's going to be thrilled. You did extremely well."
"I'm glad you're happy." I'm relieved, actually, he thought to himself. Nikolai wasn't an easy man to please but he had been more than fair in their dealings, not once trying to get any type of family discount. He had paid sticker price for the luxury coupe and simply asked that it be delivered with a bright red bow. "Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you."
"The same goes for you, Alexei."
As the call ended, he spotted their nightly janitorial crew making their way from the back rooms to the main floor of the dealership. He tucked his phone into his pocket and watched the two sisters push their carts. The older sister was always on her phone while she worked and tonight was no exception. God only knew what she had to talk about this late at night. Apparently she was very popular.
The other sister, the younger one, went about her routine in the way he had come to expect. Industrious and quiet, Shay Sandoval started at the far left side of the building and began her methodical approach toward the center. He had watched her clean enough nights to know that Shay would eventually end up picking up the slack on her sister's side too. Something told him she had been picking up her sister's slack for years.
Turning away from the wall, he headed back to his desk and tackled the day's paperwork. He was drumming his fingers and wondering how best to incentivize his sales staff in the New Year when a timid knock against his door interrupted him. "Da? Yes?"
Shay cautiously poked her head into his office. "Um…Mr. Sarnov? Would you like me to tidy up in here? Your door has been locked the last few nights and I haven’t had a chance to clean."
He waved her inside. "Please."
With a nod of her head, she carted in a shallow tote stocked with cleaning products and tools. Making little noise, she started tidying up his office. He thought about striking up a conversation with her but realized he didn't know much about Shay other than her name and the length of time she had worked at the janitorial company.
"I'm sure you can't wait to get home to celebrate the holidays." He figured that was a safe enough bet.
"Sure," she said, her voice soft and nervous. "And you?"
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I don't have much to celebrate."
She shot him a strange look. "Really? You seem to have quite an amazing life."
"Do I?" He wondered what she knew of his life.
Holding a duster, she swallowed. "Well…I mean…from what I can see. Your businesses are extremely successful. You're well-respected in the community."
"Yes." He didn't deny those things. After coming to Houston as part of Nikolai Kalasnikov's hand-picked crew, he had earned his nest egg fighting in cages for the boss. His loyalty to Nikolai had been rewarded with this dealership. Six years later, Alexei owned a string of luxury and mid-range dealerships in the Houston area and a trucking company. "I've been incredibly lucky."
She shook her head and turned back to the bookshelves. Rising up on tiptoes, she dragged the duster along the exposed edges. "I don't think it was luck. I think it was hard work and determination."
He wasn't used to receiving such compliments. "Thank you."
Unable to help himself, Alexei tilted his head and focused his gaze on that pert little ass of hers. She wore bright pink scrubs embroidered with the janitorial company's logo and a long-sleeved Henley style top underneath. Despite the boxy cut of the outfit, he got a very nice look at her nubile form anytime she stretched.
Dragging his gaze away from her bottom, he turned back to his computer screen and tried to focus on the monthly sales figures in front of him. He wondered at his reaction to Shay. She wasn't anything like the women who usually caught his eye.
With that sleek black hair she wore in a high ponytail and her warm brown skin, she was the complete opposite of the blondes and brunettes he typically dated. Well—dated was too strong a word for the arrangements he preferred. He had long ago discovered that
keeping a mistress worked best for his particular needs.
His mind strayed to the idea of Shay in that sort of role. Almost immediately, he realized it wouldn't work. She was college-aged, twenty-two or twenty-three, and much too young for that sort of thing. He preferred an older woman, the sort who understood the score and had enough skill and tricks to keep him satisfied in the bedroom. He liked women who were experienced enough to understand that they could never ask for more than he was willing to give.
Money, a luxurious apartment, shopping sprees, a new car and jewelry—he heaped those on his kept women, but when he tired of them, he expected them to move along without causing a fuss. A few had attempted to wheedle their way back into his bed, but he never allowed it. When he was done, he was done. No woman had ever succeeded in capturing his heart…and no woman ever would.
"Mr. Sarnov?" Shay's gentle voice dragged him from his thoughts. She stood near his desk with a microfiber towel in hand.
"I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"I asked if you wanted me to clean your desk."
"Oh." He sat back and pushed out of his chair. "Yes."
When he rose to his full height, she took a quick step back and glanced up at him with surprise. A big man who had fought on the underground bare-knuckle circuit for years, he was used to intimidating people. He got the feeling it wasn't his size that frightened her as much as the tattoos on his hands.
Since leaving that mob life behind, he had taken great pains to learn to fit in and blend. He wore long sleeves and stuck to buttoned shirts and ties when handling his business affairs to make sure most of his tattoos were covered. Once, he had even considered having the ones on his hands lasered away, but something had stopped him from following through with the procedure. It seemed dishonest and fake to blast away the reminders of the life he had once embraced—and the life he had fought like hell to escape. Right or wrong, he had earned every single one of those marks.
Noticing the way she gripped the towel in her hand, Alexei decided to clear out of his office while she worked. "Let me know when you're done."
"I will."
Heading downstairs, he tried to ignore the tight ache in his chest at the realization that she was afraid of him. He couldn't pinpoint the exact reason it bothered him. It wasn't until he was chatting with his general manager Martha that he realized why Shay's reaction left him feeling raw and agitated. That fearful, mistrusting glint in her dark eyes? It told him that she had been hit. The way she had zeroed in on his inked hands assured him it had been a man with tattoos.
After walking Martha to the door and bidding her a good night and happy holiday, he turned back toward the main sales floor and glanced up at his office. His teeth clenched at the very idea of some asshole putting his hands on Shay. The thought of someone striking such a sweet, gentle woman just burned him up.
The sister caught his eye. Still twittering away into her phone, Shannon half-heartedly pushed a broom from one end of the building to the other. Martha had complained about her once or twice, but the janitorial service assured him that Shannon and Shay had the highest customer satisfaction ratings among their clients. No doubt Shay's attention to detail was the reason for those high marks.
Dedicated and diligent, she had already finished his office and was working her way through the finance and inventory offices next to his. Alexei found things to keep him busy and away from her by ducking into the service garages out back. When he returned, he found Shay moving down the staircase, wiping the hand rails and steps until they gleamed.
He tried not to stare at the wiggling motion of her bottom but he wasn't a damned eunuch. He was a red-blooded man with needs and that shaking ass of hers was pushing him toward a line he refused to cross. He didn't fuck employees, and he sure as hell didn't get involved with sweet young things like that.
That's why he had women like Marissa at his beck and call. It was simpler that way, with no strings and no expectations. He could pop over to the apartment he kept for his women, have a few hours of fun and then get the hell out and go home. There were no awkward morning run-ins and no guilt trips.
He waited until Shay had moved into the break room to return to his office. Pushing her out of his mind, he called out to the security station and had the two night guards close and lock up the gates. They would need to be opened when the last few employees in the service garages out back left and when Shay and her sister were ready to leave, but he didn’t want anyone else getting onto the lot.
Lost in his work, he didn't notice another hour had passed until Shay knocked on his door again. She held a clipboard and teethed her lower lip. "Mr. Sarnov? Dan, your maintenance guy, usually signs these slips for us, but he's not here tonight. Would you mind?"
"Sure." He gestured for her to bring him the slip. Their fingers brushed together, hers slightly cold, when she handed over the paper. He ignored the way the simple act of touching her made his stomach leap and the way she snatched back her hand.
"I know the floors are usually waxed on Sundays, but they look really dim. You might want to call in and have them send Manny out to do them on Thursday or Friday, especially if you think you're going to have an increase in foot traffic after Christmas tomorrow."
Surprised by her thoughtful suggestion, he nodded. "I'll do that. Thank you."
She shrugged. "I'm just passing along what I noticed."
"I appreciate it."
"Is that hard?" She asked as he signed his name across the bottom of the work ticket.
"Is what hard?" He had to stop himself from tacking on a pet name at the end. The tip of his tongue burned with the unused sweetheart she unwittingly inspired.
"Using two different alphabets," she explained, taking the ticket from him.
"Oh." He tossed aside his pen and shook his head. "You get used to it."
She tapped the notepad on his desk and ran her finger over the Cyrillic script. "But you still make notes to yourself in Russian?"
"Old habits," he murmured, wondering at the way she noticed all the little things he did. "What about you? Do you speak another language?"
"Spanish," she said. "My dad taught me."
He sensed there was more of a story there but didn’t push. He had noticed that Shay had darker coloring than her fair-haired, light-skinned sister. They obviously hadn't had the same father, but that was hardly the sort of thing that was any of his business.
Hearing the soft splatter of icy sleet against the window behind him, he asked, "Do you have another job after this one?"
Her brow furrowed. "You mean another cleaning job? No. Not tonight. You're our only stop."
The way she answered piqued his interest. "You work somewhere else?"
She nodded. "I wait tables at an all-night diner near one of the refineries a few nights a week."
"But you're on swing shift with the janitorial company, yes?"
"Yes."
He quickly calculated the hours she worked. The number he arrived at displeased him. "Aren't you in school?"
"Three days a week," she said, a small frown playing upon her lips.
"And you get enough rest for that? You must be working fifty hours a week."
"School is expensive and landlords don't just let you live in their homes for free." Signaling an end to the discussion, she smiled at him and backed away from his desk. "Good night, Mr. Sarnov. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas." He watched her leave, all the while wondering why the hell she had gotten under his skin tonight. Certain it was the temptation of the forbidden that called to him, Alexei convinced himself that a nice romp with Marissa would cure him of whatever lingering interest remained. He picked up his phone to let her know that he would be stopping by the apartment later but decided against it. She knew the rules of their arrangement, and he wasn't required to give her anything more than half an hour's notice before his arrival.
Fully aware that he was testing Marissa, Alexei set aside his phone and finished tying up the loose en
ds of his work. He didn't know how much longer he would keep Marissa. It had been nearly five months—and that was pushing the boundaries for him. She had started to get comfortable and had even attempted to make demands on his time.
Perhaps it was time to head over to one of Kostya's clubs and take a look at the new dancers. He had had good luck in the past plucking a mistress right off the pole and depositing her in the apartment he kept. Those women were smart enough to negotiate going into the arrangement to get the best deal for themselves, and he liked that. If they were both using one another for what they wanted, it didn't feel nearly as dirty.
After locking up his office, he slid into his wool coat and hit the button on his key fob for the remote start to his vehicle. He wanted it nice and warm when he slid behind the wheel. He moved through the building to turn out the lights and stopped at the main entrance to punch in the code for the security system. He heard his phone ringing in his office but ignored it. Whoever it was would leave a message.
Out in the cold December night, he started toward his vehicle. The weather forecast had been bad that morning so he had driven his SUV instead of his sports car. He hadn't made it six steps before he heard the thump of a car stereo's bass. The hip hop beat wasn't totally unexpected, and he initially assumed it was one of the mechanics heading home for the night—until he heard the unmistakable sound of Shay's raised voice.
Hackles raised, Alexei strode down the sidewalk and around the corner of the building to the employee parking lot. He spotted the small white car Shay and her sister drove, the hood of it popped and the engine steaming. A few rows back in the empty lot sat a black SUV with ridiculous gold rims and music blaring so loudly the fucking glass was shaking. He had a mind to call the security guards to see who had let them onto the lot but then remembered the phone call he had just dodged. No doubt the guards had made a decision when he hadn't answered. It was the wrong one.
