Wreckless Engagement: The Russian Engagement Series

by K. Marie

  I groaned in embarrassment. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Camry. I told you before, my desire for you hasn’t diminished because you’re pregnant,” Garland said in a low, compelling voice.

  I’m being ridiculous and I know it. The man had just seen me completely naked in the shower this morning. But, being naked in the shower and trying to be sexily naked, were two different things.

  “You’re beautiful with my child growing inside of you, sweetheart, don’t ever hide that,” Garland told me.

  Locking my eyes with his, I forced myself to stop being absurd and slowly undid the knot of my towel, baring myself to him. His gaze shifted from mine as he took in my breasts; which had increased an entire cup size, then traveled even lower as I let the towel fall somewhere behind me. Garland took in everything his eyes could reach from this position; and I let him have his fill, not giving in to my insecurities. I moaned when he reached up to caress my breasts, running his warm palms along the curve of them, before grazing the nipples with his thumbs.

  Garland’s eyes followed his hands as they glided slowly down to my waist, moved around to land on my swollen belly, then gently caressed its roundness. My gaze stayed riveted to his hands as well, and I marveled at the sight, for it was such an intimate and touching moment. He shifted suddenly; hands moving to support me at the hip and lower back, as he lifted into a sitting position to face me. His mouth met mine, and he kissed me with an achingly sweet tenderness.

  “Stand up,” he ordered a moment later, loosening his grip on me.

  I eyed him curiously; but did as asked, carefully climbing off of him and standing. Garland got to his feet and stood next to me, then clutched my hand and pulled me with him. He led me over to a section of the mirror that took up the entire wall behind the headboard.

  Our eyes locked in the mirror as he moved behind me, and I became self-conscious all over again. “Look at me,” Garland demanded.

  I lifted my gaze to look at his reflection in the mirror, wondering where he was going with this. I already knew how I looked naked.

  “I don’t know why you can’t see what I do, so let me show you,” Garland whispered next to my ear, bringing his hands up to span my waist.

  He kissed my neck, then trailed kisses down to my shoulder as his hands slid up to caress my breasts. I moaned softly in my throat, eyes fluttering involuntarily shut.

  “Keep your eyes open, Camry, watch, while I show you how much I still love fucking you,” Garland told me.

  I felt an instant throb between my legs.

  I watched as his hands caressed my breasts, fingers stroking my sensitive nipples until I moaned in both agony and pleasure. Garland’s capable hand traveled down my waist to caress my hip, while the other traveled around to graze between my thighs. Wanting to just give myself over to the pleasure, I struggled to keep my eyes open, and my gaze focused.

  Garland held my gaze in the mirror while his fingers did magical things to my clit, and I got-off on watching him do it. I leaned my head back to rest against his chest, not trusting my legs to continue holding me up, as he simultaneously inserted a finger inside of me.

  Jesus.

  It’s the most erotic shit I’ve ever seen or experienced, it was almost like watching my own porn video.

  “Feel how wet you are, how your beautiful body still responds to me, nothing’s changed,” Garland said, pushing his fingers in deeper.

  My knees nearly buckled. It was positively mind blowing to be watching what he was doing to me—there’s absolutely nothing left to the imagination. I simultaneously felt and saw everything being done.

  And Garland’s wicked, heated eyes staring back at me through the mirror, was seducing me to the dark side.

  For the love of sin.

  My breathing became erratic, heart hammered wildly in my chest, as he mastered my body like a puppet-master. I had to lock my knees in place to remain standing, as every muscle in my body started to tighten in anticipation of an orgasmic release.

  “That’s it baby, just let go…” Garland encouraged, voice a low seductive rasp.

  “Oh, God…” I cried, orgasm hitting as if his words had just broken the dam.

  “I want you to watch yourself come, Camry, you look so damn sexy when you come for me,” he whispered, just as the flood-gates opened.

  Garland used his free hand to grip my hair—forcing my head back and clamping his mouth onto mine. No doubt to stifle my ecstasy-filled cries. It would be anti-climactic to have an alarmed Autumn come running in here.

  He supported my body as my knees gave out, his strength the only thing holding me up.

  When he’s satisfied I’m done screaming down the house, Garland pulled his mouth a breath away. “You will always be beautiful to me, Camry, nothing will ever change that. Now, go bend over the bed…I want to see your sexy ass in the air,” he told me.

  Thirty-Seven

  C A M R Y

  “Hi Papa!” Autumn shouted excitedly when dad appeared on the screen. We were video chatting with my father, a weekly habit we’d developed to stay in touch.

  “Hey Penguin, are you wearing high-heels, or are you growing taller every week?” dad teased.

  Autumn giggled. “You know I can’t wear high-heels, Papa!” she told him.

  “So, how’s the lifestyle of the rich treating my girls?” he predictably asked; as he did every week.

  I grinned and shook my head. “Cut it out, dad, you’re a bad influence on Autumn. Besides, don’t we look well?” I asked, getting to my feet and doing a full turn-around for him. Autumn followed suit.

  “Ah…I see that Garland is at least feeding you well, everything you eat is going to your stomach,” dad said, before chuckling at his own witticism.

  “She didn’t eat too much, Papa, she’s having a baby!” Autumn exclaimed on a laugh.

  “Ha-ha, you’re a true comedian dad,” I said with an affectionate smile.

  “You’re looking good, Camry, how are you feeling? Have we found out whether it’s a boy or a girl?” Dad asked.

  “I’m feeling great, old man, just tired all the time from carrying this load around. And no, we won’t know the sex of the baby until it’s born, we want it to be a surprise,” I told him, for probably the third time.

  My dad grunted his displeasure at that information, he was more eager to know the sex of the baby than Garland and me. He was happy when I finally told him we were pregnant; though he’d raised an eyebrow when I informed him I’d been pregnant at my wedding.

  “As long as you married for the right reasons, Sweet Pea, that’s all that matters. I just want you to be happy.” Dad said at the news.

  Lauren finally let go of her intrusive notions of me and Garland rushing into things right before we married. Since then, she and I spoke on the phone and texted regularly. And even though I sometimes felt we weren’t as close as I wished, even she seemed excited about having a new niece or nephew.

  “How’s school, Penguin, you learning anything?” dad asked Autumn.

  They chatted several minutes while Autumn went into detail about each and every thing that happened since they’d last spoken, one week ago.

  “I miss you dad, we’ll be coming there sometime in January. I want to see you before I get too huge to travel,” I told him at the end of our conversation.

  We’d flown back to Michigan for Thanksgiving; but would be staying in Florida for Christmas. It was my hope that we’d start spending Thanksgiving in Michigan, and my family would come here for Christmases.

  “Oh, I almost forgot! I have some mail here for you,” dad said right before disconnecting. “I’d been meaning to drop them in the post to you, but the old memory is faulty. Not sure why they came here, but I’ll go ahead and forward them to you.”

  “That may not be necessary, dad, where’d they come from?” I asked.

  I sat listening as he leaned out of the view of the camera, rummaging around on his desk a moment. “Hmm…there’s no name on the envelopes, on
ly a P.O. Box address from Plymouth,” he said, naming a nearby city where he lived.

  “It’s probably just junk-mail, dad, but I would appreciate you forwarding it to me,” I told him.

  Here we go again. I stared at the email with dread hours later, knowing its presence only spelled trouble.

  I’d hoped John would just decide to drop it. But this would make the second email I’ve received the past couple of weeks.

  Why wouldn’t he just go away? I wondered in frustration. This is just plain harassment.

  Many times, I considered just blocking him; but Garland had cautioned against it. “Let him send the emails, Camry, its proof we can use for legal purposes if it comes to that.”

  I deliberated over whether or not to open the offending email. I didn’t open the last one, had instead forwarded it to Garland as requested. I was certain the email contained more of the same bullshit as before, and I just wasn’t up for another emotional screwing from John today. Deciding against opening it for now, I sighed in annoyance as I debated whether to forward it to Garland as promised.

  I shook my head in disgust.

  I hated for him to be subjected to reading John’s vindictive bullshit. But this involved him, and I promised to keep him informed.

  Why was John doing this?

  Did he truly believe the baby to be his, or did he just hate me that much? The thought actually saddened me. In hindsight, perhaps I should have handled things better with John; I probably should have broken things off with him a lot sooner. But how long would I have to pay for that error in judgment?

  Garland said this would likely need to be dealt with; and it certainly looked that way. John isn’t going away.

  I contemplated responding to his email, to try and talk logic with him; I’d rather I were the one to deal with John’s crap instead of Garland. But would I only be playing into his hands by playing his game? What to do?

  Huffing in frustration, I resolved to let it drop until I had a chance to talk with Garland later on tonight. He’d gone to New York on business yesterday afternoon and was expected back later this evening. This is the first time he’d stayed overnight on business since we married, and I’d missed him in just that short amount of time.

  Determining to be a person of my word and to honor his wishes, I clicked on the small box next to the email to select it, then forwarded it to Garland as promised.

  G A R L A N D

  “So, my friend, I believe that went well, no?” said the man sitting across from me.

  The man is Vasily Smirnov, a friend and business associate I’d known for years. We’d launched our very first business venture together back in Russia, when we were both starting out as young ambitious men, who’d dreamed of bigger and better things.

  We sat at a conference table in his New York office, having just finalized the terms of our latest venture; a piece of prime real estate in Tribeca. At its completion, the twenty-unit luxury condo building would net us each three times our investment. Not a bad profit margin for what used to be a large abandoned warehouse building. But, that’s not what Vasily had been referring to.

  “Considering the still lingering stench of fear, I’m encouraged,” I told him.

  Vasily smiled complacently, knowing that sort of reaction wasn’t unusual. He tended to have that effect on people.

  He’d come-up rough in the streets of our hometown and has always been ruthless in his approach to most things. Over the years, Vasily developed a reputation—that reputation followed him here to the United States, and only gained momentum since he settled in New York. Our friendship had been unlikely; as we’d come from different sides of the tracks, but we’ve always had a partnership that worked. Of the two of us, he’d always been considered the brawn, while I was considered the brain. That’s not to say he isn’t an astute businessman, because he most certainly is, it’s just that he relished his reputation as a hard-ass more.

  “We both know it isn’t me he feared most. But he’ll get the word out; and the smart ones will take heed, the other ones, well…” he said with a shrug, as if to say they do so at their own peril.

  “So, what are you planning to do about, Petroff?” Vasily asked, “This will only slow him down temporarily, he’ll eventually find a way around it.”

  I stayed in New York another day to meet with the bookie, to make it clear that in no uncertain terms is he or anyone else to extend any further credit to Vlad. I could no longer be counted on to cover his debts, that time passed two years ago.

  “That depends. He hasn’t tried contacting me; and hopefully it’ll stay that way. So, for now I do nothing. But we both know Vlad is like an infection that just won’t go away. Wherever he’s run from, there’s sure to be a trail of shit left in his wake.” I said in disgust.

  Vladimir Petroff, my ex brother-in-law, is a sniveling little shit with a penchant for fucking up anything he touched. He’s a notorious gambler, parties and drinks to excess, and will even indulge in a line or two of coke when it suited him. The younger brother of my dearly departed wife, he’s been a spoiled, whining pissant since he was a teenager. He’d been spoiled by both his mother and sister; and has never taken responsibility for his actions his entire life. Beyond tired of constantly saving his ass over the years, I finally decided he was a lost cause and severed ties with him.

  I eyed my blood-brother across the table. “I know I might eventually have to deal with Vlad in a more aggressive manner. But for now, I just wanted to make it clear that he’s on his own. Anyone who even thinks about looking to me to clean up his shit will incite my wrath,” I told him.

  I hadn’t heard word from Vlad in two years, now I’m married a few short months and he’s suddenly in the U.S.? I didn’t like the implications. I knew enough about his nature to know that if he’s here; it’s for a reason, and it’s certainly one meant to benefit only him.

  “Anyone inciting your wrath would be a fool, Reaper. Why is it I got the bad reputation in America, when it’s you everyone should fear?” Vasily asked, grinning like a shark.

  “Because you like to do everything with fireworks, while I prefer a subtler approach,” I told him with a knowing look. “Now, as much as I hate to end this party—I’ve got a wife to get home to, so I’ll leave you to your own devices,” I said as I got to my feet.

  Thirty-Eight

  C A M R Y

  As I’m near finished editing for the day, I heard the doorbell chime, the sound reaching the rear of the house where both my and Garland’s home offices were. I hadn’t heard the doorbell chime since I’ve lived here—as we never had visitors, and no one ever came to the front door. The staff and security guys always entered through the lower level where the garages are located.

  Smiling, I rolled my chair back and got to my feet, knowing it was Marie.

  We lived in a gated community with very tight security. All visitors were required to be on an approved visitors list and to be cleared by Garland’s own security guys at the guard’s gate. On top of that, the actual property was protected behind ten-foot-tall stone walls and an iron gate that required a key code to enter. So random ringing of doorbells around here wasn’t likely to happen.

  We lived in a frigging fortress.

  Even deliveries were left at the gate, picked up by one of the guys and brought to the house. I’m sure they’d noticed the increased necessity the past couple of months. I’d done at least eighty-five percent of my Christmas shopping online, in addition to ordering baby things. I’d finally put my new credit card to use, and my husband sent me an email congratulating me when he received the statement.

  I loved the man’s sense of humor. I guess the expectation was, I’d go on a shopping spree immediately, but I’d had the card over two months before using it. I hated shopping.

  I walked to the door as quickly as my ever-increasing belly would allow, the distance seeming further than ever today.

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here!” I squealed upon opening th
e door.

  “Hell, I can’t believe I’m here either. This is where you actually live?” Marie said in greeting, her gaze sweeping the courtyard at the front of the house, then the huge foyer behind me.

  I laughed at her comical expression. “God, I’ve missed you,” I told her, holding out my arms for a hug.

  Though I’d just seen her one month ago at Thanksgiving, it seemed much longer.

  “My God, Cam—look at you, your stomach is huge!” Marie announced as she hugged me back.

  “I’m not that big!” I laughed, pinching her arm as we parted.

  I stepped back to allow Marie entry, and spotted Garland’s security guy ‘Stack’, short for, Roger Stackinski, carrying Marie’s luggage to the door. “Hi Stack, thank you for getting her here safely,” I said with a gracious smile.

  “No problem, Mrs. Vidov,” he replied staidly, face impassive as usual.

  “Call me Camry, Stack, I’m younger than you are,” I told him once again.

  He responded with a nod.

  “Stack, don’t forget you begged me for a date. I expect to hear from you soon,” Marie told him.

  Stack cleared his throat nervously. “Actually, you told me that I would be taking you out on a date, and that I had no choice in the matter,” he corrected.

  I got the impression he wanted to smile. Marie had that effect on people; they didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused by half the stuff she said.

  “Same thing,” she said with a shrug.

  I snorted an incredulous laugh. “No soliciting Garland’s security staff, they have work to do,” I interjected, chiding her with my eyes.

  “Maybe Garland shouldn’t have such hot security staff,” Marie countered, not repentant in the least.