He’d given her his last name, so she’d figured out that Van’s was his family business. That led to the story of Natalya Raskova Vanchenko, Vashi’s grandmother.
Natalya had been one of the Nachthexen—Night Witches—a company of female Russian pilots who flew night harassment and precision bombing sorties against German troops in World War II. Their Polikerpovs were built of wood and canvas and were exceptionally maneuverable and exceptionally slow. Their max speed was slower than the stall speed of the German Messerschmitts, which, ironically, made them extremely difficult to shoot down. And they glided very well—the Germans didn’t know they were there until the bombs started going off—like witches swooping by on their brooms.
It turned out the qualities of a Polikerpov also made for a dandy crop-dusting machine, and somehow Natalya had ended the war on a boat crossing the Atlantic with a dismantled PKP in the hold. And then on a train to Minnesota, then North Dakota, and then Montana, where she finally settled. She brought with her a Russian mechanic known to Vashi his whole life as, simply, “Jaja.”
Natalya’s son Matsin first had a stick in his hand at the age of three, while sitting in his mother’s lap. It had been pretty much the same for Vashi, he told those pretty gray eyes.
Haidee liked the story, and he liked her.
He also liked that she kept the stroke patient—a woman too old and gone to care, he thought, but there was the little problem of no advance directive—quiet on the trip back. The ground ambulance crew off-loaded her, and Haidee rode along with them to the hospital.
Vashi had to take care of the jet and the paperwork, but he wasn’t done getting to know Haidee Wells. He gave the paperwork a lick and a promise—Lev would bitch about it in the morning—and headed down the airport road into town. The weather had held as much as he could have hoped for the flight back to Billings—the clouds were thick, but the lightning and thunder were still a few minutes away. He was glad he wasn’t on his Harley.
He parked his Silverado on the street outside the Medical Center then walked over to the employee lot. He’d felt just a couple big splats of rain when he spotted her.
She’d changed into jeans and a little tank top. She had her goofy little bag hanging by a long strap from one shoulder, and her flight bag slung back on the other. Just before he was ready to call out to her, she lifted her hand. Her cell phone was in it, and she stopped walking to read it.
It had to be bad news. She read the message, dropped her head back to look at the sky, and then slumped forward. She put her fist on the top of a nearby car then planted her forehead on it. She stayed there, not moving, looking as dejected as hell.
He walked up to her, moving between cars and pickups until he was at her side. “Hey, Haidee,” he said. “You okay?”
She turned her head to look at him but kept it resting on her fist. Her phone was still in her hand at her side, and he reached down and slipped it from her fingers.
He looked at it, brazenly reading the last text. Sent by someone named Michele, it read, “Just saw Kyle at Coppa’s. His wife looks about 5 mos preg.”
Haidee’s palm was flat on the car now, and she looked back at him forlornly when he glanced up. She probably didn’t realize he was known far and wide for his SA—situational awareness.
“Kyle’s the ex? Now, anyway?”
She took a deep breath and sighed it out, which he figured was answer enough.
“I know just what you need.”
Standing up, she lifted a hand to push her very pretty dark hair over her shoulder. “Yeah?” She didn’t sound confident.
But he knew. “A revenge fuck.”
She huffed out a little laugh and looked up at him, her head shaking. “I don’t think so.”
If she thought that would back him off, she was highly mistaken. “No joke,” he told her. “A shot of whiskey, and my cock pounding into your cunt. Hard. That’s just exactly what you need.”
She paled a little, but her eyes were on his now. He’d taken a chance. Vashi used women hard—just about everybody knew that. But his best skill was seduction, so that, by the time things got rough, they were too far gone to deny him. Almost always, everyone was happy in the end.
This was blunt, and not how he’d have normally approached a woman like Haidee, but he was pretty sure he’d read her right. She hadn’t turned and walked away but still had eyes on.
He took that for answer enough. He grabbed her hand and started walking, and it took just a tiny tug to have her following.
The rain was coming down harder as they reached his truck. Still, he left her standing in it as he unlocked his crossbed toolbox. He reached in, brought out his fifth of Jack, opened it, and handed it over.
She stood looking at him for a minute before she took it, lifted it to her mouth, and took a hit.
It looked like she’d taken about a half teaspoon. “Again,” he said.
He knew he had her when she obeyed and took a reasonable slug this time.
He grabbed the bottle and locked it back in the box. Opening the passenger door, he gestured her in. She went like a lamb to slaughter. He stood watching while she fastened her belt. When he had her attention again, he said, “Unfasten your jeans and slide the zipper down.” If she balked, he didn’t wait to see it. He slammed the door and then shot her a look as he rounded the hood.
When he got behind the wheel, he saw she was a compliant little bitch. He started the engine and put the truck in drive, still with his foot on the brake. Before he pulled out, he reached over, found the edge of her panties, and shoved in until he found wet.
Fucking hallelujah.
She cried out, arched back, and grabbed his wrist. She tugged a little, until she got the message that he wouldn’t be moved. Turning her head, she looked over at him, a bit wild in the eyes.
“I’ve got you, Haidee,” he said. “You’re going to be okay.”
He held her gaze while she let out a couple rough breaths and then settled back. She let her skull fall against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her hands were still on his wrist, but they weren’t holding him back now.
The house he’d built with his brothers was a good distance off. It was west of Zimmerman Trial, the fun way up to the airport, and tucked right up against the Rims. Their front yard was all yucca, boulders, and cliff base. His suite was downstairs, walking out to the lower backyard and overlooking the city.
By the time he got her there, the rain was coming down in sheets and he’d made her come once.
She wasn’t that hard. Before they were more than a few blocks from the hospital, he had two fingers inside her. When they reached Rimrock Road, she was moaning.
This might be a ride on the wild side for her, but she was fucking made for it.
He pulled into his bay of the three-car garage. Lev’s spot was still empty. He was supposed to be flying back from Helena, but the rain might have delayed him. Danny’s Wrangler was there, but his Scout was not. He should be back in town soon, but he wouldn’t likely set out on his bike until the rain let up.
Kick the tires and light the fires. He had the house to himself.
Vashi had spent the last couple miles investigating whether Miss Haidee had her G-spot working. The answer was maybe so. But she squinted against the light of the garage and was kind of coming back to herself. He’d had her pretty distracted.
He pulled his hand out of her pants none too gently, and he figured that finished waking her up. When he opened her door, she opened her mouth. But he anticipated nothing good was going to come out of there, so he kissed her. Well, tongued her might have been more correct.
And grabbed her tit, so by the time he slid her to her feet, her attention was kind of diverted
When he came up for air, he met her gaze and patted her ass. “You’re still okay,” he told her. “I still have you.”
He took her in through the kitchen. He left her at the island while he opened the fridge for a beer. Looking over the door at her, he watched as
she slid her overnight bag to the floor and set the beaded thing on the counter, then started to refasten her jeans. He shook his head slowly, eyeing her until she got the message and dropped her hands. When he asked her if she needed another shot, she said no, so he grabbed a can of Coke for her, his beer, and her hand, and headed downstairs.
All three brothers had plenty space of their own. Lev had built a home office into his. Danny had set up a comfortable game and TV room where they all spent a lot of time. Vashi was all about the bedroom, so he’d left his space open—a big bed, a wall of glass overlooking the city, and, opposite, an expanse of closet space that contained his…specialty equipment. That area opened up for all kinds of fun, but he’d learned to keep the doors closed until he’d gotten a woman warmed up to the idea of…edgy sex.
He slept days sometimes, so he had good shades for when he needed them, but he liked to fuck with the room open to the air and the city lights. So he didn’t hit any light switches when he brought her down. He walked her to the bed, then left her there while he slid open the doors and windows, letting in the cool and the sound of rain.
Facing her—she was watching him carefully—he kicked off his boots and grabbed a fistful of the back of his tee to tear it off over his head. He left his jeans on, but she’d have to be blind not to see the way his cock was fighting to be set free.
He stayed where he was. He could make out her face in the light from outside. The lightning was moving south now, and lit her up spectacularly every little bit. To her, he’d be shadowed.
She stood like a good little soldier, but still jumped when he spoke. “Take your top off.”
Her hesitation might have reflected a little reluctance, but in a minute she followed his instruction. Like it could protect her, she held her little shirt in front of her for a moment before letting it drop.
Vashi stepped closer. Her breathing got a little wild, but settled when he stopped in front her, still out of reach. He looked her over good, enjoying her big breasts that were corralled by a pretty pink bra, and the curves of her hips and slim, toned belly. Keeping his gaze on her, he took a couple side steps, reached into his bedside table, and tossed a strip of condoms onto the bed. He made sure she got a look at what he’d had in his hand.
Coming closer, he told her to take her bra off. When she did it, testing his temper with her slow compliance, he reached out both hands, took a grasp of each nipple, and pinched.
The girl was like a powder keg set to go off. She cried out immediately and swayed, so he was actually steadying her by his hold on her tits. He brought her closer, rubbing her nipples into his chest. God, she was hot.
He took her mouth, nipping at her lips and foraging with his tongue. She lifted her hands to his biceps and held on like she needed the grounding.
She put herself into the kiss. He might be pushing her a bit. He didn’t really know her, but he had to guess that whatever relationship she’d had with Kyle-the-baby-daddy was tame compared to the way Vashi took a woman. It was a safe bet, because it was almost always true that he took a woman beyond what she’d experienced before. That was who he was.
Anyway, she was into it. She opened her mouth to him willingly and welcomed his tongue. Her fingers on his arms dug into his muscles, not quite scoring him with her nails but coming close to it in a very satisfying, stimulating way. She pressed her tits up against him and, after a couple minutes of it, with a little moan, did the same with her pelvis.
He groaned at that. She was a hell of a woman, and his cock was as big and hard as it had ever been. He let go of one tit and grabbed her ass, helping her along with that little grinding action. It was the hottest dry hump he’d ever had.
“You want it, don’t you?” He spoke into her mouth, but he was sure she got the gist. Following the seam of her jeans, he provoked her a little with his middle finger. “Don’t you? Say it, Haidee. You want what I have for you. Admit it. Come on.”
He’d been getting rougher with each sentence, pressing his fingers into her from behind, pretty aggressive. It surprised him, how much he wanted the words, how much it frustrated him that she held back. He gave her nipple an extra sharp squeeze, and she caved.
“Yes,” she said. “I want it.”
It was enough. Abruptly, he pushed her back onto the bed. He grabbed each foot and tossed off the clogs she wore then yanked on her jeans to pull them down and off. She had only a little pink thong left, a ridiculous pretense at coverage.
He could smell her arousal. Slowly, eyes taking her in, he unbuttoned, let his cock out, and slid his jeans down until he could step out of them. She watched his eyes for a minute, seeming aware that the beast in him had awakened. Then her gaze dropped to his cock, and she appeared to rethink the whole deal. She dug her heels into the bed and started to push herself away.
Vashi wouldn’t have it. He grabbed her ankles and tugged her back then pushed up so her knees were bent. He yanked the thong from under her ass, did away with it, and spread her knees so she was open to him. She struggled for just a second, her breathing harsh. He kept his gaze on hers until she settled—though her breath was still rough.
Using a good amount of time to look her over, he savored the sight of her. She was bare, so her little girl parts were all exposed to him. He could see her clit was swollen up and, between her labia, her little opening was pink and moist. “Very pretty,” he said. He was a bit of a connoisseur, and he knew what he was talking about.
His cock was throbbing, urging him to get on with it. But he had to think he’d explode the second he shoved into her, and he wasn’t done playing with her.
He kept his grip on her ankles and dropped his chest to the bed. Her legs went up as he spread her even further. Her ass was lifted a bit off the bed, her pussy offering itself to him just right there.
Going straight to that little cunt, he shoved his tongue in. She was tight and sweet, and he growled while she shuddered and squirmed. He tongue-fucked her, tasting her deep as she panted.
Her every breath was a moan before he let up. After his deepest fuck, he took his tongue out and dragged it up to her clit. He circled and stroked, and then drew her into his mouth.
She fucking liked that, too. He sucked on her, tugging hard as she shivered and moaned. He shoved up one shoulder and propped her foot on it then used that hand to savage her cunt. Working her with three fingers, he stretched and fucked her, going deep to find that G-spot he’d sussed out before.
She was so fucking responsive. She was crying out, a wild orgasm bearing down on her. It was freaking hot and had him humping the mattress with his cock, perilously close to losing it himself.
Acting like she didn’t want it, she tossed her head in resistance. But she was too far gone to stop it. He yanked on her clit, tonguing and stroking her, and shoved his fingers into her cunt mercilessly.
She rode it like a cowgirl, bucking up for more, meeting his every thrust, working herself against his mouth. Her orgasm in his truck had been little and moany. This was wild and screamy. She was fucking spectacular.
He didn’t let up until she was almost crying, until she’d spasmed out the last of it, until he’d pushed her further than he figured she wanted to go. She ended it herself—pushing herself off his shoulder, shoving away and curling to her side—as much as she could, anyway, with the grip he still had on one ankle. She drew her arms up to cover her face.
It wasn’t like she could hide from him, though. She was laid out on his bed, her long, lean body still quivering, her abused pussy wet and exposed, her nipples red and distended.
Vashi dropped her ankle and left her there, pressing a knee to the bed, reaching for a condom and opening it, covering himself. He was obvious about all of it, making sure she knew what he was doing. When he was ready, he grasped her at the waist and lifted her to the center of the bed.
He had a lot of room—a king mattress, a smooth fitted, cotton sheet. He kept the top sheet and blankets folded down for just this purpose. She was still playi
ng possum, but it was time to end that.
“Look at me,” he said. When she didn’t respond immediately, he said her name in blunt command. “Haidee.”
With a deep, shuddery breath, she uncovered her face and turned to him. Her gray eyes met his, almost a challenge in them, definitely no submission. She was a hell of a woman.
“Look at this.” He held himself, his cock covered with a magnum XL, and waited for her eyes to move on target. “Open your legs again. And put your arms down so I can see your tits.”
Slowly, she moved her gaze back up to his. She shifted her arms first, raising them alongside her head, elbows bent. Her breasts, firm and high, lifted. The bitch was taunting him. He snorted out his approval and took in the view as she kept him waiting. Finally, one at a time, she brought her heels up, bent her knees, and let them fall out to the side.
She gave him a good look.
Oh, yeah. He was going to pound that.
Chapter Three
Haidee was playing with fire, and she knew it. She could hardly believe what she was doing, what she had done. What she had let him do.
What she was about to let him do.
It had been a day. She’d thought it was Lev again, in the pilot seat, when she’d first come on board the jet. Vashi was just a bit bulkier, a bit less blond, and it had shocked her when she realized her mistake. Yet another super-hot Van’s pilot.
And this one was family. She’d enjoyed him—as she’d enjoyed Danya and Lev, too. She especially liked hearing his family story. She wished she could have known that grandmother.
Haidee had been thinking of him—or really, of all three pilots—when she’d walked out of the hospital to her car. She was considering whether she ought to let all her single friends know that Billings, Montana was apparently the mecca of hot, available men.
She assumed they were available, anyway. Danny was, at least—he’d indicated it, and essentially made the vow that he wasn’t a cheater. She hadn’t got as far as that conversation with Lev and Vashi, but they’d both made plain their interest. They’d been interacting professionally, so there was nothing overt about it, but it wasn’t exactly subtle, either.
Three Men and a Woman: Haidee (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 4
