“Nothing,” I say, my goose bumps giving me away.
“Or when I touch your face,” he says, as his hand rolls over and his thumb runs along my cheek.
“Zero. Zilch. Nada.”
He leans in closer and I feel my heart pounding against my chest.
“Nothing,” he says softly, his warm breath cutting through the cool air in the room and cloaking the skin on my face.
“Nut uh,” I moan softly and he leans in the last little bit and his lips meet mine, causing all hell to break lose.
I grab the sides of his face and pull his kiss into me, our lips pressing together harder.
His feet come off the floor and he’s yanks the cover off of me exposing my nipples, which are so hard they’re nearly piercing the fabric.
His hand finds my breast and he squeezes it hard as I raise my chest, pressing it into his firm grip.
My back arches and his other hand slides underneath me and pulls my body to his as he mounts me on the bed.
I can feel his muscles meet my body and my legs spread. He slides up in the bed causing his thigh to grind along my middle, covering his skin with my wetness.
His hands grab for my spaghetti straps and he pulls them to the side, my breasts popping out but quickly covered by his hand on one side and his mouth on the other.
I run my hands through his hair and lift my midsection desperately, hoping he’ll rub his body across mine again, sending a tingling sensation that starts from my pussy and continues through my entire body. He slides back and then forward, doing just that.
He yanks my lingerie down and pulls it past my ankles, my feet pointing straight towards the ceiling, my pussy fully exposed.
He slowly reaches for his towel like a gunslinger and whips his hand across his body exposing his long, hard cock.
He slides in and mounts me, placing his cock at my opening.
This isn’t a game anymore. This is real…very real.
“Fuck me,” I say and he pushes his hips forward guiding his dick inside me, opening me slowly. The nerve endings in my walls feel every part of his cock as he splits me like wet pine.
He moves his hips in rhythm and I feel like our bodies are dancing together to the beat in our heads.
“Fuck me harder,” I say. As much as I am already enjoying this, I want to feel the passion of a man possessed in his desire to own me. “Like I know you want to.”
He responds to my words as his hand slides forward and he fists a handful of my hair, twisting it, which causes my body to arch slightly sideways. He pulls my hair toward him, as his dick hammers into me at the one o’clock position, the perfect position for getting me off.
I feel his hands come down hard on my hips and he spins me over onto my stomach. I reach for the headboard and just as I grab it with both hands he pulls me back like a sack of potatoes, sending my ass barreling into his hip bones. He repeats the move over and over again, my body moving back and forth and flopping side to side as he fucks me into next week.
I’m reaching for something, anything, but coming up empty.
I feel one hand release as he grabs my hair again and pulls it back toward him.
“Uhhh,” I moan through gritted teeth. His other hand joins his first and now he’s pulling even harder.
I’m doing everything I can not to cum, but I’m fighting a losing battle. He’s fucking me so good it makes me feel like I’ve been asleep for years and now I’m finally awake.
One hand comes off my hair and slides under my armpit and wraps back toward him, grabbing my shoulder giving him even more leverage to drill me deeper.
His body comes down on mine and I feel those rock hard abs of his against my lower back. He’s still got my hair as he moves his hand, placing it on the sheet causing my head to rotate back.
I’m breathing hard through my nose like a bull ready to charge, but the only bull here is him. He’s a wild animal who’s attacking my pussy with a reckless abandon, and I’m loving every second of it.
“Hold on,” he says. “I’m gonna make you cum right now.”
His confidence is all it takes, but he offers even more as he somehow finds another gear as it feels like his entire body is slamming against mine as the legs of the bed bounce off the floor and the headboard slams against the wall.
I feel my midsection tighten and my pussy erupts like a dormant volcano that’s been brought back from the dead, spewing my hot juices all over his dick.
“Uhhhhh!” he yells, in a voice just as raspy as molten lava rolling over black hardened stone as he unleashes inside me, which send my pussy into a second geyser almost as powerful as the first.
He drives his hips forward once more and then stops, his juices filling me as I feel my hair pulling and releasing in short bursts as his arms spasm.
Suddenly his entire body collapses onto mine sending us face first onto the bed, causing the front left leg to snap as we slide to that side, which causes the back left leg to follow suit as we roll off that side of the bed entirely and onto the floor.
We’re panting, trying to get air when suddenly we both start bursting out laughing.
“Looks like I’m still not going to get to sleep in that bed after all.”
“Why would we want to sleep?” I say.
“And that angle will be perfect. I can bend you over and hit you inside just where you need it most.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“It’s like the Liberator Wedge, but an entire bed.”
“I was barely born the last time America liberated Eastern Europe,” I say.
I see a mischievous smile creep across his face. “Well then, Uncle Sam definitely owes you one…and I’m here to pay that debt.”
CHAPTER 9
Isaac
Two days later
“Ror…n…ta,” I say, trying to pronounce the funny letters on the front of the book Julia is reading in the green room. We’re waiting to be interviewed on TV about my bid for fire chief, and how the two of us met.
Julia’s eyes move from the page to meet mine. She flips over the book so the cover is facing her, and then moves her eyes down to it. She starts laughing.
“How did you pronounce it?” She starts laughing.
“Rornta?”
She laughs even harder at my second attempt. “It’s in Cyrillic. It’s Lolita.”
“Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov?”
“There’s only one Lolita,” she says. “I’ve probably read it at least ten times.
“In Cyrillic?”
“Always. It’s my mother tongue, and Nabokov’s too. There are certain words which just don’t translate. It has so much feeling in Russian.”
“But don’t you speak Ukrainian?”
“That too, and it’s kind of similar, but my mother tongue is Russian. Kiev is split, and Ukraine is in general. The Western part will get angry with you if you speak to them in Russian. The eastern part speaks almost entirely in Russian.”
“Because of what happened a few years ago?”
“Way before that. What boiled over has been there for years. It just came to a head unfortunately, and it’s one of the reasons I wanted to get out while I could.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I escape in my books so I barely even noticed the war raging around me.”
“You’re joking?”
“No. When I’m reading I’m lost in my own little world.”
I nod my head.
“Do you read?”
“Actually I do. We have a lot of down time at the station. Some guys play video games. Some guys watch movies and TV. I read.”
“Really? What do you read?”
“A lot of things, but my favorite are the short stories of Anton Chekov.”
“A great author.”
“Incredible. I also read Gogol, Dostoyevsky, and Tolstoy.”
“All Russians.”
“Maybe I have a fascination with them. From Russia with Love is one of my favo
rite movies, and it introduced me to the book and a world of reading.”
“Wow. It’s usually the other way around I thought.”
“It is, but I guess I do things a little differently.”
“I would say so,” she says.
I smile knowing how different everything we’ve already been through has already been, and in such a short amount of time too. It was just two days ago that we spent the entire night having incredible, hot, sweaty sex even though the aircon was on full blast in our room. Our bodies fit together like the last puzzle piece does to the puzzle you’ve been working on for days, or in this case a lifetime.
“You’re up,” the head that is suddenly sticking inside the room says.
“Here goes nothing,” I say, and we stand up and make our way to the live interview room.
Over the next fifteen minutes we’re asked questions from both the hosts of the show and callers. I was expecting a lot of calls about my candidacy, but it’s anything but. People are calling in asking about our relationship. They’re mostly women callers, and I watch as Julia fields the questions with ease. She answers with passion and enthusiasm, spinning the tail more and more romantically as she goes.
The two anchors of the show are women and I watch as Julia holds them spellbound with her words. I could only imagine if she wasn’t here. I would fumble through this and probably give stoic one-word answers. She’s really a game changer when it comes to dealing with the public.
We finish up the interview, and check the latest online polls. I’ve shot up seven percent since just before the interview began. Julia is worth her weight in gold, or should I say my wait for her. Where has she been all this time?
“Thank you,” I say as I offer her a high five.
“A high five? Is that any way to treat your fiancée?” she jokes…I think.
I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek, then I open the car door for her and we drive off.
“Feel like an ice cream?” I ask as we sit at a stoplight.
“If they have chocolate, they have my heart,” she says.
I like that she’s colorful and full of life, from her clothing to her words. I picked out the red dress to get attention, but I didn’t even know red was her favorite color, and one she wore often.
My stoic ways combined with her outgoing personality are quite the opposites, but somehow they come together to balance each other out perfectly. If anything I feel more talkative and energetic when I’m around her. I’ve always had a lot of energy and I work out a lot, but there’s something about her that pumps me up more than any amount of caffeine or exercise ever could.
“I know just the place,” I say, as I shift into fifth gear.
I look forward at the road ahead, trying to will us to the ice cream shop even quicker.
Out of nowhere I feel her hand come to rest on top of mine. I turn and look at her, and think what this really means.
I may be driving, and I’m in control…or that’s just the way it seems. We’re doing this together, and she’s letting me lead, but deep down I’m starting to wonder who’s really driving this relationship forward. But it’s not a relationship…I don’t think.
But I’ve never had a relationship that felt like this. If it’s better than any relationship that I’ve ever had, but it’s not a relationship, then what is it?
It looks like a duck. It walks like a duck. It quacks like a duck. And I’m still telling myself it’s not a duck.
I can’t keep fooling myself, because my brain can’t accept my attempts to trick it much longer.
CHAPTER 10
Isaac
Four days later
Can you meet? - Abby
I look at the text again, and shake my head from side to side. Am I dreaming?
Don’t think that’s a good idea.
Why in the world would she want to meet?
Need to clear up some things, and discuss the campaign.
What is there to clear up? Everything she touches she destroys. Discuss the campaign? Her husband is running against me and I’ve pulled ahead in the final days, thanks to Julia. This is not the time to go and ruin it at the last second.
Sorry. I can’t.
Not what you think. Coming to the station.
The last thing I need is for this to go down here, but on the other hand I’m not sure if she’s bluffing. It’s not worth the risk. Why won’t she just leave me alone?
Starbucks. Text me when you arrive.
Will do.
I set my phone on the table and start wondering what she wants to really talk about, and how I’m going to avoid getting caught up in some sort of trap.
Less than ten minutes goes by and I get a text that she’s already at Starbucks. I exit the station in my uniform. The last thing I need is something appearing in the paper of me in civilian clothes meeting up with her.
Just before I walk into Starbucks I text her again, changing the location to a sushi restaurant three doors down. It will be empty at this time, and I don’t expect the owner will be the type to care what two people are talking about.
I walk into the sushi restaurant and two minutes later the door opens and there she is. She has a look of remorse on her face as she walks straight to my table.
She looks sorry for something she’s done. I can only imagine what she’s done to me now.
CHAPTER 11
Abby
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I say.
“What’s up?” he asks. I can see he’s itching to leave, and I can’t blame him.
“I just want to say I’m sorry.”
His head doesn’t move. He says nothing.
“I’ve written a lot of things I wish I could take back, but I can’t. But I know now it’s not entirely too late to do what’s right.”
“What do you want from me, Abby?”
“You have every right to be angry. I’m sorry, and I’m not asking you for forgiveness. I just wanted to tell you in advance that my last story will make sure you become the fire chief.”
“Please don’t do anything now,” he says. “Just let the voters vote in peace.”
“It’s not that easy. See, there’s something about me that most people don’t know. Something that Julia reminded me of when we went for that drive. I felt free again. Young again. I could see myself in her. We’re the same, but we’re different. Different in the way our stories can be told. She’s a beautiful young woman and I want to see her story have a happy ending.”
He says nothing for at least ten full seconds. “What are you talking about?”
“Years ago I came to this country just like she did. I had to support myself, so I turned to the only thing I knew. My mother read all the advice columns for years, so I generally knew how they worked. I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong and one thing led to another and soon I had a job at the paper. It’s gossip…it sells itself. I just don’t know how I let it get so out of control…until now.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I speak Russian, Isaac. You probably heard me the other night. Well, my husband does too…I just found out. After all these years you think you know someone. You think you know who you’re sharing a bed and a life with, only to find out you don’t.”
I pause thinking back to how it felt like a punch in the gut when I found out the truth.
“I got up one night to get a glass of water. He was in the kitchen on the phone. He was speaking in Russian. They were talking about drugs, gambling, prostitution and an insurance scam. At first I was shocked to learn he even knew the language. And then I listened. They had girls in that building that burned. Thank god, they got them all out, but it’s not the end of the story for them. They’re somewhere else now, and I’m going to do what I can to put a stop to it, just like your Julia did. She was so brave for talking with the police. If those guys ever found out it was her that is going to testify they would kill her and then kill her family back home. Fortunately for me I changed my na
me a long time ago, and I don’t have any family that I know of. There’s no one but me, and I’ve already got my plane ticket out of here. I leave tonight.”
“Is this a joke?”
Fireman's Fake Fiancée: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 26) Page 4
