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BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5)

Page 31

by Kristina Weaver


  I almost didn’t know what they were planning until John gave me a call and let me know what his wife Angelica and my girls were planning. I know John. The man runs one of the most established sex clubs in the city, one I used to be a member of before I met my girl and cancelled immediately.

  I wanted to be angry at first, and believe me, I have every right after warning her not to interfere, but I also agree with her and therefore let the plot stand.

  She was followed, of course. Not difficult since the little hurricane drives around the city like a mad woman in that little pink death trap of hers. Who could miss them?

  And I heard it all over the wire planted beneath the chair that one of the servers took to the table.

  I wanted to rip Mina to shreds through the entire conversation. For a few seconds, Leo and Vadim had to restrain me in the back of the car when she so flippantly spoke of sending more killers after my wife.

  But I controlled myself and let it play out. Now I’m waiting only for that bitch to make a move and for Liza and John to follow.

  In a different car, of course. Only women would think that using a hot pink, sputtering Mini as the tail car is a good notion. God help me if I am not proud of my woman. Although I nixed my plans to sexually torture her and made sweet love to her instead.

  Vadim, however…the man is raging pissed that his “sweet” Nikita had the gall to endanger herself by going near what he terms “a vile and evil bitch that should be put down to rid the world of her stink.”

  I don’t blame him, and yet I pity Nikita her actions because where I am lenient and mostly amused by Irina’s escapades, Vadim is different.

  The man is a dominant to the core and tolerates no disobedience. I think he will drop all guilt and do what he’s been wanting to do for days.

  With that thought I smile, wish him luck, and snuggle my wife back into my arms, my hand going to the slightly rounded curve of her belly where my son sleeps, safe and content for now.

  ***

  Nikita

  The cloying taste in my dry mouth is so strong and oppressive that I disregard every lesson I’ve ever been taught by my self-defence coach and open my eyes.

  Part of me knows what’s happened, and though I’m groggy and weak as a kitten, I feel myself almost grin at the man’s complete gall and daring. I am lying on a soft bed in a room that is dark yet seems to be well appointed and spotless, just the way I like it.

  I love Vadim with every single miserable fiber of my being. He’s my perfect half, my soul mate, my Dom, and I need him.

  What we have is a relationship where I cede control to him because I need to. Without his firm hand and guidance, I’m lost and so afraid that I usually go a little crazy with the OCD.

  See, I was married before to this asshole who used to not only hit me, but would also leave things so unmanageable that my life was a mess from one day to the next.

  He’d throw parties and the house would be a disaster area that I would clean, only to have it messed up a few hours later. He’d insist on managing the checkbook and then let the power be shut off or forget to pay the heating bill in the middle of winter.

  My life was chaos back then, and by the time I finally grew a pair and left, I was strung so tight it hurt to breathe most days. I learned to control it all, so tightly that I didn’t make a move without checking my planner first, and it was slowly killing the vibrant girl that was struggling to survive inside me.

  When Vadim came into my life he took that all away. He took over and demanded my trust, and in taking control and doing it all, from paying my rent to planning my meals, I finally was able to let go and just breathe.

  With him I can be me without fear and the need to control. I know that he’ll care for it all.

  It sounds fucked up, I know, but he’s my center. Without him, I’m drowning.

  He’s gentle, never hurts me.

  The scrape of a key in the door lock alerts me to his entrance, and I force myself not to look at him, instead keeping my eyes focused on the ceiling above me.

  I know that his golden blond hair will be dishevelled, that his blue eyes will be blazing with lust, and that he’s already sucking and licking his lips in anticipation.

  “Ah, you’re finally awake. Good. We can begin.”

  That voice sends immediate shivers down my spine and an answering zing to my sex. Strength, Nikita. Stay strong, I caution myself when he comes to the side of the bed and directly into view.

  The move and the way he grinds his jaw when I peek at him out of the corner of my eye makes me want to laugh with joy, but I school my features and instead continue to ignore him.

  “Nikita, my woman. Look at me, please.”

  He’s asking? In that soft voice that tells me about affection and emotions that I wanted but never got from him? I don’t want that. I need the commanding growl that is so familiar. I want him to order me and make this easy.

  I don’t want to cede victory, I want it and the choice taken from me.

  “Nikita, sweetheart, look at me.”

  I obey, though I know it isn’t a command but a softly spoken plea. That quietly pleading tone gets me right in the heart, and I bring my eyes up to look at him, drinking in every bit of his handsome, drawn face.

  There’s no sign of the Dom; what I am seeing now is the man. He’s open and vulnerable and fully dressed in jeans and a light blue T-shirt that stretches across his broad chest.

  I should have known the moment I woke and felt no restraints pinning me to the bed that I’d be talking to Vadim and not my masterful lover. This side of him is so rare, so odd without the authority or even the happy-go-lucky joker who hides behind that carefree façade.

  “What am I doing here, Vadim?”

  He sits beside me gingerly and keeps our eyes locked, not touching me but close enough that his heat and strength seeps into me where our hips almost meet.

  “I was angry when you accompanied Irina to see Mina. I thought, well, I was upset and resentful that I had no say in the things you now do, and…I just wanted to have more than ten seconds of telephone conversation with you without you telling me to screw off. I kidnapped you thinking that I would bring you here and show you who is boss. I thought I could use my anger as fuel to just take you and force you to stop ignoring me…”

  “You’re no longer angry enough to justify what you were going to do?”

  He shakes his head and sighs, his elbows on his knees as he stares at the floor and seems so defeated, it breaks my heart.

  “I had a best friend. Friends, really, if I’m being truthful. Peter and his high-school sweetheart, Ashley. We did everything together and were practically joined at the hip.”

  I’m actually sitting up and completely shocked when he just starts talking, one of the first signs that whatever has happened has totally felled my man to the point that he’s willingly talking to me instead of holding himself back as he always does.

  “Pete worked his ass off in college and got into med school. He finished the programs early, and by the time Ash and I finished college, he was going into his residency and working sixteen-hour days while still trying to have a life. By then, I was so involved with Misha and the family and struggling to keep it all together after Minkie died that I spent less and less time with them till Ash started calling me, crying about the fighting and the bickering. She and Pete weren’t doing well at all, and without me there to referee she was terrified that they wouldn’t make it through that year together.”

  “That must have been rough on you, trying to mourn and help Misha as well as trying to council your friends to save their relationship.”

  Selfish bastards.

  “It was,” he admits, seeming so weary now that I can’t help but take his hand to try and impart some sort of comfort. “They argued constantly, even while I was there trying to make them see how stupid it all was. I’d just lost a little girl I loved like my own, and my family was crushed. Misha was so out of control that I feared he
would off himself at any given moment, and his company…it was up to me to try and manage it while also keeping my own clubs running and making money. It was a hard time for us all, but I was getting it all done and also trying to be there for my friends.”

  “It was all destined to crash, though,” I say, threading our fingers together, heartened when he squeezes me back and smiles sadly.

  “Yes. I had managed to somehow get Misha back into this life and the company flourished after a deal I negotiated, so that, at least, was on track. Leo somehow convinced Mama and Papa to go to therapy. It was okay, though, and for the first time I could breathe, until the night I was at Misha’s trying to talk him off the bottle again and I got a call from Ashley. She and Pete were at a party, had been drinking heavily and fought. She asked me to come drive them home. I agreed immediately and left Misha. I didn’t want to, and I was too late, anyways. I was almost two blocks away from the address she gave me when I saw the accident.”

  Oh no.

  “Pete had been thrown clear when it rolled, but Ash was still stuck in there, inside a crumpled tin can that looked like nothing could survive inside the ruins.”

  I know that accident. I vaguely remember reading about it in the paper since one of the victims was the daughter of a suspected mobster.

  According to Mama, they deserved it for their recklessness. I’d felt so wretched for the poor woman who’d survived and was left paralyzed that I’d prayed for her that same night.

  How small the world truly is.

  “Pete died and Ash was a wreck. They operated on her three times but eventually just gave up when nothing seemed to work for her. She’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

  “Oh, Vadi.”

  “She was angry for a long time, and by the time I was ready to wash my hands of her, she’d convinced her father to blackmail me into marrying her. It worked. I couldn’t let a cousin face family justice and possibly be killed, so I gave in. I think also because I felt guilty for not making it on time.”

  “No…”

  “At first it was no big deal. I thought she’d heal physically and mentally, and we’d get divorced and stay friends. It never happened, and year after year I came to realize that I would never be free. But I also wasn’t willing to just lay down and die for her. I fucked so many women during my marriage that I’m ashamed to even look in the mirror most days. Or I was till I looked over that counter and saw you. I knew you were it for me the moment you looked at me and sneered.”

  I chuckle as I remember that day.

  “But I was still married and I knew that I could never have you fully because I had nothing to offer you. I should have stayed away, I know it, but the lure of all that warmth and the love I could see within reach was too great. I selfishly seduced you and made you crave me, love me, need me on an emotional level that most would say is unhealthy. I wanted to own you in all ways physical and emotional, because I knew that I would never get the chance to have you as mine completely. I took you over and fucked you but kept myself as separate from you emotionally as possibly while reeling you in further because I am selfish and needy.”

  “You could have talked to me and told me the truth, Vadim. I may have been pissed to know that I was your mistress, but I would have at least understood better. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I can count because you made me feel like an object with your instant withdrawals after sex.”

  I felt dirty sometimes and so alone that it was hard to understand why I would keep doing it to myself. When I finally realized I loved him, it was the hardest blow of all.

  “I didn’t want you to see me that way, Nikita. I wanted to always be strong and worthy of the love you so freely gave me. I was shamed and guilty and heartbroken at the thought of being trapped in a loveless marriage while I lied to you.

  Then when you found out, I spent that one night at home, drinking in the dark while Ashley raged at me and expressed her hatred, and I just snapped. I yelled back, I insulted, I hurt her and broke her down until she finally started sobbing and told me the whole sordid tale. Long story short, she and I came to an understanding and she set me free.”

  And now I have to make a choice. I need to decide if forgiveness will extend to committing myself again.

  “You want it all now?” I ask, cupping his cheek and bringing his eyes to mine. “You’re ready to be mine fully?”

  “Please. It is all I have ever wanted, Nikita. I do not deserve you and I know it, but I need you. I love you so much that being without you is a physical agony that makes it hard to breathe. I had planned after Ashley agreed to a divorce to buy a ring and propose to you, but I decided not to even try yet, not until the divorce is final and I have the right to touch you again.”

  “First off, I love you.”

  I never thought I’d say those words to him again, but just getting them out lifts a weight off my shoulders that makes me feel light and elated.

  “Thank you, Nikita,” he whispers, squeezing my hand as his eyes go bright and moist.

  “Second of all, I would marry you any day of the week, with or without a proposal, my domineering man, because I refuse to have little bastard babies and go without carrying your name myself. Lastly, did you just say you’re not fucking me till your divorce is final?”

  Vadim finally loses that hangdog expression and smiles gloriously at me, his wicked blue eyes shooting lust and so much love, I’m instantly hot and wet.

  “Da. But I never said I cannot watch you do it, baby.”

  I end up on my back, naked, and pleasuring myself as Vadim strokes his cock and comes all over my skin.

  It’s not the most romantic beginning of my fairy tale, and it may not be all that symbolic and sweet, but as I come and feed him my fingers, I know that it’s love and that’s all I need.

  Chapter Nine

  Misha

  I’ve just rolled off of Irina after a two-hour fuck fest that’s left my balls and dick limp and achingly satisfied when I hear her tummy growl at me. We’re both out of breath and spent, but it’s morning, time for a new day and a shower before I stuff her full of food and try to get her lush ass back to its original size.

  “Come on lazy girl. Shower and then food.” I laugh when she tries to kick me and burrows deeper into my pillow, her ass still up in the air and on display in a way that makes my dick twitch with interest.

  “Shower,” I growl, slapping her shapely ass with a chuckle and laughing when she curses beneath her breath and bounces out of bed, rubbing at the pinkened skin.

  “Abuse is a crime,” she mutters, stepping into the shower with a groan when the pulsating jets come on, and massages the muscles I’ve been working out all morning.

  “That wasn’t abuse, woman, but a little love pat,” I say, stepping in and away from her as I attempt to ignore the lure of her body and start scrubbing at my body.

  “I was referring to your cruel and unusual crime of making me get out of bed this early when we’re not going to work today,” she gripes, washing quickly and leaning out to grab a towel.

  “Angel, today is the first morning you have not puked all over the place and begged the Lord to put you out of your misery. Besides, I need to talk to you and I hate being awake alone when you’re near,” I mumble at her jiggling backside as she steps out and starts drying her hair, her eyes narrowed with amusement.

  I love that she is no longer conscious of her body in a way that would have never allowed for her to just stand naked while drying water from her hair. Right now, I see every inch of her from her swaying breasts, nicely padded hips, and thighs, to the newly waxed and smooth mound between them.

  Showering quickly, I practically throw on my clothes and leave the room to go start breakfast, my mind full to bursting with everything that I have to tell her today.

  By the time she shuffles in and is chirping at me while reading me jokes and downloading photos of her devil cat from Max’s Facebook page, I’m plating omelettes and ready to face what we need to.<
br />
  I want to tell her about everything and maybe get some clarification and a promise out of her concerning her recklessness lately. More than that, I want to share what I’ve been feeling and just…

  If I didn’t see my dick just minutes ago, I would swear I’ve grown a vagina in the last few months.

  “I should tell you that I kinda went against your kingly demands and went to see Mina yesterday,” she says out of the blue around a forkful of omelette before swallowing and grabbing her glass of orange juice.

  The confession is so unexpected that all I can do is stare at her in silence as she starts launching into a long drawn-out explanation and totally takes the wind right out of my sails.

  Dammit, I had a whole speech and everything planned for her naughty ass!

  “I know, Irina.”

  She sighs and seems not at all conscious of my scowl, going so far as to giggle a little before shrugging and wiping at her brow in mock relief.

  “Cameras in the shop?”

  “Da.”

  Do not pull at your hair, man. She hates that and you know what happened the last time.

  She slapped my head and threatened me with bodily harm. I wanted to tell her that she pulls it harder while I’m going down on her, but she’s been violent lately and I don’t trust her not to assault me.

  “That’s more than creepy and stalkerish, and I think you should really talk to someone about your issues, but for now I want to talk about what’s happening. Liza called a few minutes ago and told me that they followed Mina to a little beach cottage in the Hamptons. They found a little girl there—”

  We’re interrupted when I hear the ding of the elevator and I shoot to my feet when a small body comes running at me, launching herself my way with a squeal.

  I’m on my knees and sobbing before I can quite manage to hold it back. I feel so many emotions right now that I can’t process it all without difficulty.

  Shock. Rage. Happiness. Love. Fear.

 

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