Let Me In-Dragan's Tale: The Mikhailov Brothers (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

MINE

Evie

I hustled around the kitchen. Mentally checking off my to-do list for the tenth time.

Everything was on schedule. The massive lasagna was assembled and would go in the oven in an hour. Loaves of Italian bread, baked, antipasto, prepped and in the refrigerator and lots of red wine.

Our first dinner party as a couple and it had potential to be a disaster of massive proportions.

I truly was very excited to meet the boys’ little brother. Sergey and Dragan have been anxious to get him to Austin. I thought it was less about his welfare and more about being there for Brenna. But that was mostly supposition until I got more details from Sergey. And I had learned in a few months as a cop’s woman that some details were need to know.

What I did know was that Brenna called me daily with updates about her sisters. It would seem Alina and Sofia’s husbands were waist deep in a shit storm of shadowy business connections that led to organized crime. To be honest, I listened when Sergey needed to talk. Other than that, I did not want to know. I could be a good friend to Brenna and a support for Sergey without needing all the dirty details. In fact, I was of the mind that it was better if I didn’t know. When my man was ready to share, I would be there. But I refused to be a whiny bitch demanding to know all his secrets. I just needed to lighten the load when he needed me too. And I was happy to do that. God knows he did it for me.

With a shrug, I released a breath and immediately felt an arm tighten around my waist. The smell of sunshine and earth nestled around me and I let a tense breath, I didn’t know I was holding, out. Sergey was home.

“Hey babe,” he whispered.

Easing back into his chest, I rested my head on his shoulder. His left hand slid up to cup my breast while the other skimmed the smooth span of my neck. His lips, warm and soft, traced little kisses behind my ear and down to the shoulder.

“Hi,” I replied in a whisper. “How was work?”

Sergey growled
into my hair, tilting his pelvis forward. I instantly recognized the hard length pressing into my butt. “Do you have any idea how fucking good it feels to come home and see my Evie in our home looking so damn beautiful?”

“Sergey, it’s not—”

The man stopped me before I could say it. He hated it when I wouldn’t say it. Instead he spun me around to face him. His body pressed tight into mine. His hands on my face. He bent his head to take my mouth. I went to my tiptoes to hasten the kiss but he pulled back. “Ahh,” the sound dragged from his throat. His voice a scabrous hiss. “No, say it first baby.”

“Sergey,” I pleaded
, still on my toes.

“Evelyn, whose house is this?” he questioned. One hand on my face while the other fisted my hair, his thumb played with my bottom lip.

“It’s our house, Sergey,” I said immediately. My eyes fixed on his.

“Yes, baby. And who…” His hand slid down the roundness of my tummy to my knit shorts
. His fingers finding the waistband and slipping down and into my panties. “Who…does this belong to?” Sergey demanded.

The blood that should have been working my brain went between my legs.

“You,” I said in a whimper as his fingers glided down the center of me, gathering the wetness there and bringing it out and to his lips. Licking his fingers, he grinned and nodded in agreement. Gently pushing me to the nearest chair, he captured my mouth while guiding me onto his lap as he sat.

With my thighs spread wide across his groin, our lips met again. I could taste my need on his mouth. Probing and eager, our tongues met in a sensual twist. In one motion, my T-shirt was removed, discarded to a corner. In response, I lifted the tight thermal up and over Sergey’s head. My fingers reaching for
the hard plains of his chest, water pooled in my cheeks. This man made me drool. I wanted to lick the pert hard discs that puckered under my palms but to forfeit his lips would have been sacrilege.

“How much Evie?” he grumbled against our kiss.

The question confused me and I quit the kiss. “What? I asked.

Sergey’s hand shot out and drew my mouth back to his. Teeth grabbing my bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. His voice rolled in his chest. “How much time do we have babe?”

I pushed back to look in his face and tugged the lacy white brassiere down to let my ample breasts topple free. I needed his mouth on me. The blood that pulsed between my legs made me shake. “An hour,” I answered in a rushed gasp as his bite found my nipple. The sharpness sent pain coursing through my stomach and to my pussy. But the echo of the assault was all pleasure. “Lasagna… an hour…” I stuttered. Sentence fragments exploded in my mind. Leaning back I rested my hands on Sergey’s knees. My breasts thrusting forward, offering a feast.

“Fuuck.” he crushed out the word as his face dove into my cleavage. While fingers toyed, pinched and rolled one nipple, his mouth laved affection on the other. His other hand
grabbing my hips to rub me against his groin. “My Evie tastes so good.”

I let my head fall back between my shoulders. Willing my breath to steady, I demanded. “More.” The friction only served to fan the flames. It did nothing to quell the ache between my thighs. “Sergey, I need you, honey. Please.”

Ignoring my pleas, he continued his plunder.

Frustrated, I balanced, shifting my weight to one arm and reached out for the front of his jeans. Thank
God for button-fly jeans. Tugging hard I popped the first two free but salvation remained cloistered. Refusing to be stymied further, I pushed my torso away and set up tall. “Freaking… effing… buttons,” I grumbled. Sergey huffed out a laugh and that threw me over the edge.

I abandoned the buttons and reached for his face. My fingers fanning into his hair, I grabbed hold and brought his
mouth to me. “Now give me what is mine,” I demanded with a grunt. My eyes bright with undischarged lust.

Sergey’s gaze snapped to my eyes. In one deft move, his jeans were open and he sprang free.
Rigid with blood, the tip shiny and flushed, His sack clenched when the cool air hit his dick.

A shocked grin danced on my
face, as my shorts were ripped open at the seam. The crotch of my new pink undies fared no better. Soon he had me poised above the leaking head of his cock.

E
yes, a smoky jade bore into me. “I love you, moya zvezda.” Slowly he lowered me onto his dick. My ass cheeks spread and rested on his forearms. He lifted and dipped me once. Twice. And finally I was fully seated and willing my hips wider until he had bottomed out against my womb. Full. His.

I kissed him then, slow and sweet. The corners of his mouth, his strong, smooth jawline. Whispering words of affection. With a smile, I leaned back again, arching my back, resting my hands on his knees. On cue, his hips rose and began driving deliberately at first and then with more urgency up.

“Love you baby,” he repeated between pumps. His mantra. His song.

“Mine,” I groaned and rode the wave as I came hard.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FRIENDLY SKIES

The Dragan

Flight 245 from Los Angeles, California had disembarked nearly fifteen minutes ago and there was still no sign of Nicolai Mikhailov. I paced the length of the concourse for the fifteenth time. If that man missed this flight…With a frustrated outtake of breath, I checked my phone again. One missed call from Sergey who undoubtedly wanted to know that their little brother had arrived safely. Aggravated I hit the speed dial for Nico. Still no answer. Resigned to wait, I dialed Sergey’s number. There was an answer on the first ring.

“Dragan, hey! Has Nicolai’s plane arrived? You said you’d call and—” Evie’s voice chirped over the line.

“Yes, it landed. I’m still waiting for him at the gate.”

Evie was silent for a moment. “You think he changed his mind? Maybe it was too—”

“He will be here, sweet Evelyn. He’s ready,” I assured her, though I worried about my little brother. When I told him work was taking me back to Austin, he was not pleased. We had agreed long ago to stay clear of our grandmother and by extension our brother and sisters. Aside from the violent memories we both shared, I’d gotten a not so subtle warning from Irina, our grandmother, years ago. It was best for the family if we stayed clear of Austin. The reappearance of Vladimir Mikhailov’s youngest sons would illicit questions, the family didn’t need. In fact when she discovered that Nico and I had returned to the States eight years ago, she’d sent me a message to stay away, courtesy of a rather bulky Ukrainian named Boris. The Ukrainian had worked off his ticket to the U.S. by working for Irina. However, unbeknownst to my grandmother, he had fallen in love with her youngest granddaughter, Brenna. As it turned out, Boris was a wonderful man. After we talked and I filled him in on the role Irina played in keeping Nico and I from Texas and who we really were, he became an ally in the family for me. When he returned to Austin, he swept Brenna off her feet and got her out from under Irina’s tyrannical thumb. And then I had an ally in Brenna too.

“...just want him here. With us. You know?” Evelyn’s voice laced with emotion and it shocked me into the conversation.

“I know sweetness. Sergey and I are ready. Everything is in place. Is Sergey around by the way?” I’d made a point of avoiding emotional attachments, except for Nicolai. They drained me of strength and rarely bared fruit. Evelyn Snow was the exception to that rule. I liked her the moment we met. Regardless of my big brother’s attempts to limit her exposure to me, she pursued a friendship with me like a rabid dog. She had a way of knowing when I was retreating into myself and she drew me back among the living. She also appreciated the renewal of affection between Sergey and me. Coaxing a delicate truce between the brothers had, in a short span of time, bloomed into a genuine propinquity.

“Sorry, of course… I’m just excited for all of you. Sergey’s in the shower. I saw your number pop up and answered. Sorry,” she apologized again.

“No worries. We will see you at dinner tonight. Yes?”

“Yes!” she responded with enthusiasm. “And call if you need us. And Dragan…”

“Yes, Evelyn?”
“Everything will work out. Sergey hasn’t said much. But what I am permitted to know confirms what I knew all along.”

I laughed. “And what is that, sweet Evelyn?” My voice low and smooth.

“That you are a hero. And I admire you more than you could know.”

I swallowed an unwelcome emotion and responded, “Thank you my sweet Evelyn. There is no higher compliment than your regard.”

The woman at the other end of the line laughed. “I love it when you talk that way! Kisses my beautiful Dragan.”

I disconnected, shaking my head. Sergey was a lucky son of a bitch. With a grin I redialed Nico’s phone. In truth, I was starting to worry. When everything went down Sergey and I wanted our little brother close. Not that the man couldn’t take care of himself. But there was strength in numbers. And
God help the person who tried to hurt what they protected. The call went directly to voicemail.

“So, how many calls from you should I expect when I turn my phone on? a voice asked from behind him. With a sigh, I turned to find my brother.

Dressed in well-worn seaweed-colored chinos, a T-shirt informing the public he was a Jedi Master and black Chuck Taylor’s on his feet, he grinned at his brother. Nico was nearly thirty-years old but when I saw my brother again after an absence it was like looking at the ten-year-old who stood crying and dirty all those years ago as father and I were arrested. Dragan gave a mental shake and straightened his spine.

“Didn’t your flight land 20 minutes ago? Everything okay? Did you sleep in those clothes?”

Nicolai chuckled at the barrage of questions but agreed. “I did. We don’t all wake up in Armani, Drago.”

Dragan eyed him up and down. “Your pants are undone. You’re about a half an inch from your balls poppin’ out.”

“Oh,” he said in surprise and fastened his pants with a grin.

Dragan shook his head. “I can’t believe a flight attendant didn’t notice and say something to you.”

Nico laughed again and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Oh my sweet, naive brother. Who do you think unzipped them?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

APOLOGIES

Toni

My plan was to dress early so I could head over to Evie and Sergey’s house to help. As usual, life got in the way. I’d rearranged my work schedule so I could come to the dinner party. Missing out on Saturday night tips sucked but it was worth it to see Evie. So, I had a rare Saturday with no work. Instead I cleaned the house, went to the Laundromat and put fresh sheets on
Mom’s beds and mine. I trimmed Mom’s hair, washed my car and went grocery shopping. I’d wanted a bubble bath but ran out of time. My back really hurt from lifting my mom. I needed free medical advice from Evie without letting her know what I was doing to get injured in the first place.

I had Mom freshened up for the evening and in her pajamas already. Her current fascination was scrapbooks, so I’d cut out all the little ends and bits she wanted to adorn the pages, pulled our Chicago trip pictures out of the envelop we got when we had them developed and set up a workstation for her at her chair. She couldn’t work scissors lately but she could glue so she was ready to create.

I jumped in the shower, opted against washing my hair because I had too much of it and started to dress.