When I Moan: Russian Stepbrother Romance

by Marian Tee

  “Are you angry with Papa?”

  Slowly, she shook her head.

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m glad.”

  She looked down at their entwined hands, sadness finding a way into her heart when she saw his bruised knuckles. “Does it still hurt?” she heard herself ask.

  “Not as much as I wish it did,” he answered briefly. At her look of confusion, he explained flatly, “It means I didn’t hit him enough.”

  Seri didn’t quite know what to say to that, remembering the way Sergei and Misha had to haul Vassi away from the other guy and how Mason’s face looked more like an abstract work of art, with his blackened eyes, crooked nose, and cut lips.

  “Marianna was everything to us,” Vassi intoned under his breath. “She was everything a mother should be, everything that our own mother wasn’t.” His grip on her tightened, as if he needed to make sure he would be able to keep her with him before he spoke. “Papa was an ordinary salesman when he met our mother. When he got her pregnant, her parents disowned her, and naturally Papa married her and took her in. But she blamed him for the change in her lifestyle, and I grew up hearing her nag at him every damn day, belittling him, accusing him of ruining her life. But Papa never said a word until one day they had this major row, and…”

  Vassi took a deep breath.

  “She told him she had been sleeping around since the very start, and one of those men – whose name she couldn’t even fucking remember – managed to get her pregnant.”

  Seri paled.

  Vassi’s gaze was unseeing, his mind lost in the past. “I’m not Papa’s biological child, Seri, but despite knowing that – the way he looked at me never changed, and he didn’t stop loving me. That was why…when you and Marianna came along, and I saw how she made him whole again, how you two made us feel like a family, I vowed to myself I would never let anything destroy what we have.” He looked at her. “I’d destroy them first, and that includes my mother.”

  And as she gazed at him, Seri realized painfully what Vassi was saying, even without knowing it.

  Vassi going to destroy any threat to their family---

  And that included Seri, if she ever confessed her feelings.

  * * *

  It was close to noon when Seri woke up, and she found herself sleeping in Vassi’s bed while he slept on the pullout.

  He was lying on his side, his brows creased even in his dreams. His shirt had inched up in his sleep, revealing the bronze muscular panes of his body.

  She stared at him for a long time, feeling like a voyeur but unable to stop herself, knowing that this was the last time she could ever allow herself to be this close to him.

  I love you, Vassi.

  She knew that she was young and inexperienced enough for her feelings to change. She knew this, but even so, what she felt right now---

  It was love, and it was heartbreaking because the guy she loved could never be hers, the way she wanted him to.

  I love you, Vassi.

  And because she loved him, she would personally kill her feelings for him on her own. All night long, he had regaled her with stories about Marianna and Fyodor, most of them in the first year their parents had gotten together.

  Although they were only one year apart in age, those memories held nothing special for Seri, who had been raised happily by her single mother. But for the six-year-old Vassi, every memory had been precious, new, and different – nothing like the days of Tanya’s violent tantrums that he had grown up with.

  And even when over a decade had already passed, Vassi had spoken of them like they had only happened yesterday.

  Just listening to him made it clear how much he loved Fyodor and Marianna, how much he loved their family the way it was.

  And because she loved him, more than anyone else in the world, she would make sure that their family stayed the way it was.

  Even if they ended up hating each other---

  She would do it.

  Because she loved him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Present Time

  I’m not going to think about his dick.

  But her mental warning was useless, falling on deaf ears and a body that acted on its own volition.

  As the muted anime continued to play on her screen and Seri saw the heroine tumble onto the hot guy’s lap, she couldn’t help it.

  She had to think about his dick.

  As the heroine’s lips parted, Seri moaned with her out loud, knowing that the soundproofed walls of her bedroom would keep her secret safe.

  “Aaaaaah.” The moan came out just right, but her timing was wrong, and she ended up moaning the same time the Japanese-Russian hero on the screen started to speak.

  Derr’ mo. She stopped the recording and tried again. In many ways, singers really had it easier than seiyuu like her. Singers could be themselves and just let the beauty of their voices shine through their songs. Voice actors, though – they had to be themselves…and someone else at the same time. Seiyuu had to make sure their viewers or audience would feel what they and their characters feeling, and right now---

  Seri gazed at the screen in frustration. Was there really no chance for this to work without having to think about his dick?

  Biting her lip, she decided to make another attempt at recording and ignored the exasperated voice inside her head, telling her she was just being foolishly stubborn.

  Seri moaned as the girl on the screen moaned. She pressed Stop and replayed her recording---

  A terrible sound emerged from the speakers.

  Seri hastily stopped the playback, thinking resignedly, I’m going to think about his dick.

  And so…she did.

  She closed her eyes and pictured herself as Aya, a good girl with a secret, a high school nerd who had sexual fantasies about every gorgeous guy she ever encountered. They didn’t know that, of course, until…this guy in front of her.

  Shinta.

  Him.

  Seri clicked Play on the video.

  “No…not there please…oh…please…ah!” This time, she was able to gasp in perfect synchrony with the character on the screen. And before she knew it, her imagination had taken over and her body was on fire.

  On the screen, Aya and her guy were about to come, and Seri’s breath hitched. When their passion reached its peak, it was almost like she was experiencing the same thing as her mind was filled with images of him---

  Always and only him.

  And cut!

  Seri breathed a sigh of relief, and a pleasant sense of exhaustion almost had her sagging in her seat. But she forced herself to move, knowing she had no time to waste. An hour flew by as she edited her recording and saved the file. Finally, she printed out a label for her audition DVD.

  Seri Deveraux – Audition DVD

  Applying for the role of Aya in Drawn: His Secret Toy

  She went back to her application sheet next, nipping the push-button tip of her pen as she considered the last few questions. She had skipped answering them last night, but with her audition DVD done, she knew she had to finish everything today.

  Part III: Please answer the questions honestly. We need to see if your personality is a perfect match for the character.

  Are you in love? Yes.

  If you answered yes, does the guy love you back? No.

  If you answered yes, did you try getting his attention first?

  If you answered no, what do you plan to do to get his attention?

  Pretending that her situation wasn’t hopeless, Seri began to write, hoping that the mangaka, who was usually responsible for both the artwork and storyline, would appreciate the humor in her answer.

  And then I’m going to---

  The intercom buzzed, making Seri jump in her seat. She answered it absently, “Hello, dick---I mean Rick?” Seri mentally kicked herself in the head several times.

  Thankfully, their long-time butler was paid to be impassive. “Miss Seri, Master Fyodor is asking if you’d like to join the rest of t
he family for breakfast.”

  “Umm, sure.” She answered slowly, a little confused since everyone at home knew she tended to skip meals when working.

  As if reading her mind, Rick said after a delicate pause, “Master Vassi is home.”

  Dick.

  There was an even lengthier pause, and Seri realized too late that she had the word out loud again. This time, she banged her head against the table for real.

  B’lyad.

  It had been two years, and yet---

  Why was it that the mere thought of Vassi under one roof with her turned her brain into sex-drugged mush?

  Clearing her throat, she stammered, “Sorry, Rick.”

  She put the intercom down – and found herself thinking about it.

  Again.

  And this time, she couldn’t stop.

  Dick, dick, dick.

  Holy Mother of Russia, but maybe she should quit waiting for true love and just find someone to take her V-card away.

  Maybe…maybe then, she’d stop being obsessed with his---

  Seri didn’t allow herself to complete the thought.

  ****

  I am not going to stare at his dick.

  She repeated this over and over in her mind, willing herself to believe it as she finished with her shower and squeezed into a white tank top and floral printed shorts.

  We are going to do it right this time, Seri told herself as she slid her feet into a pair of ballet flats. We’re going to be affectionate like before and everything will get back to normal---

  “Where’s Leech?”

  It was the first thing Seri heard as she reached the foot of the stairs, and her heart threatened to jump out of her chest at the painfully familiar sound.

  She quickly made an about face, intent on locking herself in her bedroom and pretending she was ill.

  But before she could take another step, she heard the same voice drawl, “There you are.”

  Derr’ mo.

  Seri was suddenly twirled around to face six-feet-plus of perfection.

  Holy Mother of Russia.

  If only she was exaggerating, but…she wasn’t.

  Everyone liked to say Vassi Grachyov was perfect, and unfortunately…they were right.

  He wore his ash blond hair just a little bit longer these days, making him look like an angel with a decadently rebellious streak. And oh, his eyes – these days, his silvery gaze had an almost immoral glint to them, like Vassi knew exactly how to make one’s most sinful wishes come true.

  Don’t look down, don’t look down---

  But it was too late, and Seri’s gaze had fallen to his body.

  His body, which was---oh, where to start?

  Perfection at its most lethal, and the sight of all those tight, rippling muscles was capable of reducing every girl’s mind to a single thought.

  Sex.

  The moan-inducing, rough and sweaty, bad-boy---

  Vassi lifted a brow and Seri bit back another curse, realizing that he had caught her staring. She made herself raise a brow back at him, stubborn pride rooting her in place even as her mind urged her to make a run for it.

  When her silence seemed to be too much for Vassi, he demanded in a half-surprised, half-teasing voice, "Are you really not going to welcome me back?"

  Seri gave him her best spoiled-girl scowl. “Yes. I’m not.” She pushed past him, and as she did, the sides of their bodies brushed---

  Her eyes immediately slid down, and she saw what she was not supposed to be staring at.

  B’lyad.

  Fuck.

  And that was exactly what she couldn’t help thinking every time she accidentally touched Vassi.

  Vassi fucking her---

  Seri quickly lifted her gaze back up before he caught her staring. Even so, she couldn’t get rid of the image in her mind.

  Vassi fucking her hard---

  She shuddered at the thought, but sadly it wasn’t out of disgust, and not for lack of trying.

  “Seri---”

  She moved before he could reach her and quickened her steps, knowing she needed as much distance between them while she worked on getting her lungs to function again. His proximity was like a contagious disease that threatened to disable her limbs and cause her mental faculties to degenerate.

  In short, she was a fucking mess.

  But when Seri joined the rest of their family in the dining room, she had a smile pinned in place.

  “Sorry,” Fyodor immediately apologized. “I know you were working, but I thought you’d like to join us for breakfast now that Vassi’s here.”

  “You were right,” Seri lied without missing a beat.

  As she bent down to kiss him on the cheek, he asked, “Are you happy we’re complete again? It’s been a long time since we were…”

  Ninety-eight days to be exact, Seri thought, not that she was counting.

  Before she could answer, Vassi had strolled inside to join them, drawling, “Leech doesn’t seem happy to see me back.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Stop being childish.” She moved to Sergei and kissed her oldest brother on the cheek. “Morning, Sergei.”

  Like Fyodor, Sergei was dressed in a conservative dark suit, and the cynical mask on his handsome features fell away as he smiled back at her. “Morning, baby.”

  She moved on to Misha next. A one-day stubble covered his jaw, and his lab coat was badly rumbled. Even so, he was still more than handsome enough to turn heads – as long as he remembered to leave his lab and join the rest of the living.

  “Morning, Misha.” She fixed his tousled hair as she spoke.

  He looked up, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses. “Hey, little dove.”

  Seri returned to her seat, which unfortunately placed her next to Vassi.

  For a few seconds, he simply gazed at her. It was unnerving, but she forced herself to pretend she didn’t notice his stare.

  In the corner of her eye, she saw Vassi’s jaw drop. “You’re really not going to give me a hug?” Vassi had growled the words out in a half-joking tone, but the way his gaze darkened was impossible to ignore.

  She had hurt him, Seri realized. She tried to steel herself against the thought, but it was no use, and she heard herself say grudgingly, “Welcome back.”

  “Ah, Leech. Such graciousness! Are you really turning 18 or 12?” He threw his arms wide open, a sexy teasing grin on his firm lips.

  Oh, if only any of his millions of rabid fans could see him now.

  In the past two years, Vassi had somehow cultivated for himself an image of being this generation’s James Dean. Everyone loved to think of him as a brooding, aloof, and moody anti-hero, someone who relished getting into trouble – and because he was so wickedly dashing, girls wanted to get into trouble with him.

  And yet here he was, looking at her like he was a boy who’d be heartbroken if she didn’t hug him.

  Vassi murmured teasingly, “Come on, leech.” He bent closer and Seri almost stopped breathing. This close, she was able to breathe his scent in, which was a mix of something sexy and fresh.

  His silvery gaze captured hers. “You know you want to hug me.”

  Oh, yes.

  She did.

  But the problem was, she wanted more than a hug. She also wanted to kiss him, touch him, and lick him---

  She wanted to do so many things to him and for him, but because they were all forbidden, what Seri ended up doing was the only thing that could save her sanity.

  She kicked his shin, he grunted in pain, and the spell was broken.

  “What’s that for?” Vassi glared at her as he stretched his arm down to rub his shin.

  “Serves you right.” Unfortunately, the words came out breathless, and she quickly snapped her mouth shut.

  “Vassi, stop teasing your sister,” Fyodor sighed.

  “I was not teasing her,” Vassi protested right away. “I’m just saying the truth. I know she wants to hug her favorite brother.”

  Sergei s
norted, which he somehow managed to turn into something that sounded as elegant as the rest of him. “You have never been her favorite---”

  “Because I’m the one she holds in affection the most,” Misha finished without looking up from his book.

  Vassi didn’t say anything. He only looked at her, and God oh God, to have him looking at her like that---

  Ooooh.

  It was all Seri could do not to moan.

  Sometimes, she felt like she was going out of her mind, thinking and wondering about the impossible. Common sense, logic, all the things that were rational, objective, and quantifiable in the world told her that it was impossible.

  Vassi would never like her the way she liked him.

  But there was also that small, instinctive, and hopelessly optimistic part of her---

  That part of her saw so much promise, so much meaning, so many hidden desires in his gaze.

  Like now.

  He was gazing at her under his lashes, his eyes glittering as they roamed Seri’s body. It was like he was undressing her with his gaze, and the feel of his eyes on her was so shockingly, shamefully, and irresistibly arousing.

  It felt so real…

  And yet, she still couldn’t be sure of it, even now.

  “Seri?” Vassi was smirking at her, but his gaze was even more heated, and the promise of it even more dangerously forbidden---

  Derr’ mo.

  He was right. She did want to hug her…stepbrother, who was also the only man she had fallen in love with.

  Lust won over common sense, and she pretended to grumble, “Fine.”

  Fyodor chuckled. “Sorry, boys, it seems Vassi’s still Seri’s favorite.”

  She heard Misha and Sergei protesting Papa’s words, but their voices sound distant, like she was in a different world, one where she could pretend she was someone else with Vassi.

  Slowly, she moved towards him, and a moment later, his arms circled around her body.

  She gingerly raised her own to wrap them around his neck.

  Their bodies touched, chest to cheek.

  Derr ‘mo. B‘lyad. Chort.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn.

  All her Russian cuss words came to fore at the heat that instantly enveloped her, turning Seri’s insides to mush and making her body go from dry to embarrassingly wet in seconds.