Sex, Lies & Nikolai (20 page)

“Temporary,” he repeats, looking away from me and down the street. “I can have a position for you at my shop, and it wouldn’t be
temporary.
”

“I don’t want to work for you.”

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You want to keep me as far from you as possible, don’t you?”

“It’s not wrong to keep what’s between us simple,” I explain. “If you throw in me working for you in a place I’ll always be around you then…things blur.”

“How?”

“I become your employee
and
your whore?”

He freezes, his eyes cutting back to mine, this chilling expression on his face. “Whore? Is that what you think you are when you’re with me?”

“I get paid to pleasure you.”

“You get paid to be in my company.”

“What’s the difference?”

His face tightens. We stare at each other and the tension climbs in a matter of seconds.

“Do you want to stop what we’re doing?” he suddenly asks.

My heart stops in panic, and I quickly shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

I’ve answered quicker than I would have liked, but it’s like my body is twisting on the inside, frightened at the possibility of this ending. I don’t even want to explore the reason for it.

He notices. I swear to god, he sees it and it’s the reason he’s so quiet and solemn. I have to look away, or else I’ll combust from the tension.

“Alina,” a voice calls out just then. I turn and see Benji at the door, staring darkly at Nikolai. “Your shift has started, lapochka. Hurry in.”

“We’re talking,” Nikolai cuts in, glaring at him now. “Don’t interrupt again.”

Benji frowns, glances at me for a short moment, and reluctantly disappears back inside. But I know he’s still watching, and I really don’t want an audience for this.

I take a step back. “I have to go, Nikolai.”

“A time,” he stresses, standing his ground. “Give me one, Alina.”

I hesitate. Going back to him feels too soon, but I can’t resist the rush that flows through me at the thought of being touched again.

“I get off work at five,” I say weakly, because I can’t help myself.

He lets out a slow breath, his chest sinking as he studies every curve of my face like he’s committing it to memory. The want in him perplexes me. I don’t understand it. I don’t know how deep it runs, but it leaves me paralysed in place, waiting for his next move.

His fingers twitch, but there’s no cigarette between them. He seems edgy, but he conceals it in his expression as he stiffly nods once. Then he heads back to his car and I watch him, every bone in my body aching at the distance growing between us.

Benji’s judging me when I enter the store. He’s got his brows all pinched together, his nostrils flaring, even his arms crossed. He says something to me in Russian and I stop to give him a questionable look. “Idiot,” he explains. “That’s what I called you.”

“Noted,” I reply, dryly.

When he realizes he hasn’t gotten to me, he fumes. “What are you doing, lapochka? Look at me! Look at the bruises on my face. You want the same to happen to you?”

“Nikolai would never hurt me like that.”

He repeats the word idiot. “You got a loan, huh? I told you to go to Franco.”

“Yeah, well, Franco busted up my lip,” I retort.

“What did you do?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“What? I just want to know what you did.”

“I didn’t think doing
anything
would justify getting choked out by that dick. But you know what, Benji? Nikolai took care of him for me when he found out. Yeah, he went to him and beat him for it. So he can’t be that bad, can he?”

Benji goes quiet, thinking on my words. “But I thought he was gay,” he whispers, more to himself than me.

“He’s not,” I tell him.

“How would you know?”

I don’t answer, but as the seconds pass by, realization dawns on him.

“Fuck,” he curses, a sardonic chuckle leaving his throat. “You’re fucking him!”

This time I tear my eyes away and pretend I didn’t hear him.

“Aren’t you, Alina? Why?”

A customer comes in and I tend to him. All the while Benji is standing there, facing me, waiting.

“Why?” he repeats, when the customer leaves.

I still don’t answer and another customer comes in.

“Don’t ignore me. You don’t like it when it’s done to you!”

Fuck, this guy really does know me more than I like. My shoulders sag and I sigh, defeated. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You like him?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You like him then.”

“No, no, I do not like Nikolai.”

He makes a disgusted face. “Do you really believe in what you’re saying?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How do you convince yourself of it?”

“I don’t have to convince myself of anything. It’s the truth.”

“It’s a lie.”

I keep my lips shut and this time Benji stops pushing. He lets out a few overdramatic breaths and carries on, shaking his head every time I happen to look at him.

Now he’s just being ridiculous.

He can think what he wants, but I know what the truth is. Nikolai is a means out of here. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s not a lie I tell myself either. That is genuinely what I feel in my heart.

I count the minutes down not because I want to see his face. I count them down because I want to feel what his cock can do to me.

And the money.

Mostly
the money.

When I leave work, I find Nikolai already out front, waiting for me like he did this morning. He sees me step out, and his clear expression breaks into a heady smile. It’s the most boyish smile I’ve seen from him yet, and it warms me.

“Alina,” he breathes life into my name, and for all my mother’s faults, naming me is the one thing she did right.

I smile back, and I even feel it in my chest. “Nikolai.”

I’m giddy.
Excited
even. I feel like I’m alive after a day of monotonous hell.

He opens the door for me like a gentleman, and as I go to slide in, he drops his head and runs his nose along the side of my face, smelling my hair so quickly I almost miss it. Flustered, I buckle up, feeling goose bumps run along my flesh as he rounds the car and slides in.

“Are you hungry?” he asks me, lowering the volume on the radio.

I lick my lips slowly, deliberating his question. “Best we go straight to your place.”

His hand hovers over the gear shift, a frown forming over his mouth. “My place then.”

I like watching him drive. He’s a concentrated man, comfortable and precise behind the wheel. It’s very sexy. Everything this man does is sexy. Even fighting.

“You have strong hands,” I blurt out.

His brow lifts. “Is that what you were thinking just now?”

“No, I was actually thinking you’re not an angry driver.”

He’s amused. “You expected me to be?”

I grin stupidly. “No. I was just thinking of all the times I was in a car with Grant. If someone cut him off, he would have screamed and waved a middle finger in the air.”

Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who’s Grant?”

“My mother’s ex.”

“Out of the picture?”

I glance out the window and mutter quietly, “He pops up here and there.”

Nikolai makes a thoughtful hum. “They’re the ones you have to watch out for the most. Like your mother.”

“I think she’s gone for good.”

He gives me a wry look. “She’ll drain every pocket and come full circle again. She’ll return.”

I open my mouth, itching to talk about it because I’ve never spoken out loud about her habitual abandonment, but I stop before I do. I’m shocked, really. I have never felt an urge to talk about her. Ever. And this isn’t even an appropriate time and place to do it. I swallow down the words before they come to the surface and let enough time pass so the topic is let go. I’m a little disappointed in myself for staying silent about it.

“So what about your remark about my hands?” he asks, fishing for conversation. “Is it how good I worked them the last time I fucked you?”

I go silent, stunned into speechlessness. That was…very direct.

He catches my expression and laughs. “Are we shy, Alina?”

I slowly shake my head, but my cheeks feel like they’re going to melt off. “Noo,” I drawl out slowly.

“You’re cute, rybka, but you’re a very bad liar.”

I don’t acknowledge that.

Desperate to cool my cheeks, I turn one of the vents to my face and let the AC work its magic. I’d like to think it’s the weather that’s making me sweat, and not the intense man next to me. Yes, I nod. It must be. The heat is so putrid I want to die. It’s the middle of July and the heatwave of the decade has descended on us. I wonder how Nikolai can look so put together in that suit. Surely he’s dying too, but the mutant hasn’t even broken a sweat.

The ride’s longer than before. We keep catching red lights, which leaves us idling in silence. I catch him looking at me every few moments. Sometimes I catch his stare and my body goes stiff when I find I can’t look away. He looks so rugged today, like a man who doesn’t belong in that beautiful suit. His fingers twitch again, and I wonder what makes them do it.

He wants me, but his eyes stay on my face instead of my body. It’s one of those times I wish they weren’t. I want him looking me over. I don’t want to admit to myself I shaved everywhere because I suspected this would happen.

“What are you thinking now?” he asks softly, filling the silence.

I’m thinking of all the things he’ll do to me when we get to his place. I think of him pinning me against his front door, tongue in my mouth, hands everywhere. My legs shake and I have to squeeze them together to keep the ache from throbbing.

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Nothing at all?” he presses.

I grasp for something, anything. “Work was long.”

“I imagine it would be.”

“And some of the customers are weird.”

He chuckles. “I know weird. I have a pawn shop, remember?”

“You get a lot of crazies?”

He nods. “Every day someone is trying to sell some kind of ancient artefact they’ve made in their garage.”

My smile returns. “Made of tinsel and wood?”

“That would be a step beyond their level of expertise.”

I laugh. “That’s not so bad. Better interaction than what I have to deal with.”

“My offer still stands,” he says lightly, referring to this morning.

“I’m not sure I’d fit well in a pawn shop,” I muse. “I’d be a headache.”

“The best kind.”

“I’d demand a pay raise every three months.”

“I would deliver.”

“And extra vacation time.”

He glances at me. “Alina, you don’t even have to be around and I’d still pay you to get out of that store.”

“Wow, you’re trying to buy my time now.”

“Think about it.”

“What unfortunate soul will replace me at the store?” I wonder. “I’m the only one that’s lasted this long under Ivan’s hierarchy. Besides, I’m not sure how Benji would survive without me around.”

Nikolai’s grip around the steering wheel tightens just then. He nods slowly in response, a fleeting look of conflict on his face before it vanishes back to nothing. He doesn’t say a word for the rest of the ride there.

*

By the time we get to his apartment building, my heart is racing. I run my sweaty hands over my shorts when he parks the car in the underground lot and turns it off. Then he steps out and I follow after him. Even the elevator ride is quiet and tense. He appears withdrawn, except his eyes when they flash to mine. They’re more alive than the rest of him.

I feel needier every step closer to the apartment. We enter and I turn my body to him, expecting his mouth to descend on mine. But he doesn’t kiss me. He doesn’t even look at me. He continues walking, and he doesn’t lead me to the bedroom like I expect him to. He heads to the kitchen instead and pulls out two wine glasses from the cupboard. He pours wine into each of them and slides one across the island counter to me.

Confused, and slightly disappointed, I sit down on the island stool and sip on it lightly. I’ve never been a drinker. Wine is as far as I can stomach, but this one in particular tastes ridiculously good.

“You look beautiful today,” he suddenly tells me, still not meeting my eye as he throws his suit jacket off and flings it on the kitchen counter. “I forgot to tell you that.”

I grip the glass tighter. “Thank you.”

“Does that Benji boy compliment you?” He turns to me now, hands in his pockets, neglecting his own glass as he peers at me with curiosity.

I blink. “Um…what?”

“I saw the way he looked at you this morning.”

“He doesn’t care about me like that. He just worries about my situation.”

“And gives you shitty advice like going to Franco?”

My eyes narrow. “Is this an interrogation?”

“I’m paying you to be here, aren’t I?”

I don’t respond. I just look at him, dumbfounded. He leans across the counter from me, blue eyes on blue eyes. There’s a chill in his. “Don’t waste my time, Alina,” he tells me. “If you like the guy, let me know now.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“I want to know.”

“Know what exactly?”

“That when I fuck you, it’s me you’re with.”

My eyes bulge. I wait for him to deliver the punch line, but it never comes.

“What, you…you think I’m envisioning Benji? My hopeless co-worker?” The laugh that erupts out of me sounds high and crazed. “
Benji
?”

“I thought…” he pauses, his brows coming together now as he looks at my reddened face.

“You thought I’d be with you and imagine
him
in your place? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” Would any girl pass up a naked body that looked like Nikolai’s? Fuck no, they would live in the present and savour every second of his body pressed against them.

Nikolai’s face cracks, the absurdity slowly hitting him now. His lips twitch and he looks away. It makes me laugh even harder.

“Alright,” he mutters, turning from me now. “It’s not that funny.”

But I can’t stop. I have never so much as imagined myself hugging Benji, much less screwing him. There are some thoughts you just don’t cross.

Nikolai circles the island and spins the stool so that I’m facing him. My cheeks hurt from laughing, and he’s giving me a dry look.

“Are we done?” he asks.

“Depends,” I answer. “Are you going to ask me if I’m fucking Ivan in my head too?”

This time he laughs with me. “
That
would surprise me.”

Smiling like a goof, I take another sip of my wine, burying my blush into the glass. He moves closer, his arms settling on the counter on either side of me. He leans down, waiting for me to put the glass down on the counter. When I do, I angle my head up to him and he brushes his lips against mine. They’re so soft, like the petals on the rose in my bedroom. It’s a small first kiss, but I feel it for a long moment after. He kisses me again, and this time it’s longer, and I’m falling into it with closed eyes.

It’s easy to get lost in his kiss. It’s easy to get lost in him.

I squeeze my thighs together when he slips his tongue inside my mouth. My skin heats quickly. I’m already wet and he hasn’t even touched me anywhere else. I think what I love the most about kissing him is he’s always just as undone as me. The kiss is so light, but his breaths are faster, his body rigid like he’s trying to hold himself back. It’s different from the Nikolai I’ve come to know, who is in control of himself in every other aspect of his life.

My fingers tingle. I fist his shirt and drive his kiss deeper in me. He doesn’t relent. We kiss hard, hungry movements, tongues clashing. Then he tears his mouth away and steps back, his hand flying to his tie. He tilts his head to the side. “Bedroom,” he orders, breathlessly.

I don’t waste time. I leap off the stool and hurry to his room. He’s right on my tail, and I feel this nervous/excited adrenaline fire through me as I turn back to him, watching his tie hit the floor. He works on his shirt, unbuttoning it while he jerks at my top. “Take that off, nothing else.”

I rip my shirt over my head and throw it down on his dresser. He undoes all the buttons but he doesn’t take his shirt off.

“Get on the bed now. On your hands and knees.”

I go still, thinking of his directions. He wants me in an impersonal position. He’s going to fuck me from behind. I get a little panicked at the thought, wondering how the hell I could possibly feel pleasure when he’s not adding pressure to my clit from that angle.

“Relax,” he says gently, noticing my expression. “Hands and knees, you won’t regret it.”

I don’t really buy that, but I move anyway. On instinct, my eyes flicker everywhere as I climb his bed, like I’m inventorying my surroundings, making sure there’s something there I can use against him in case this ends violently wrong. But there’s nothing. I’m vulnerable and in a position I’ve never found any pleasure in.

My body shakes, the only thing keeping me grounded is the tiny articles of clothing I still have on me, like they’re saving me from indignity somehow.

I feel him coming from behind me, and I shut my eyes, waiting for his touch. His hands grip at my hips and he positions me back so that my ass is level with the edge of the bed. I breathe slowly, quietly, with scared anticipation as he flips my skirt over my hips and drags my panties down my legs.

I wait for his invasion. For him to take me hard and brutal and leave nothing behind but come I’ll have to squeeze out of me.

Nikolai’s hand runs down my spine, softly, dotingly. I’m so nervous, I’m barely coherent as his touch roams over my bare ass and along my slit. Faintly, I’m aware I’m wet from his kiss from earlier, and I moan lightly, tiny little bursts of pleasure shooting through me at the way he brushes over my nerves.

Already I know this is different. I’m on my knees, my face is buried in the sheets, my ass is in the air and completely bare to him, and he has just driven out a string of light moans from me. But I know it’s coming. I know any second he’ll pull his zipper down and thrust into me. It’s why I’m so unbelievably shocked when I feel something wet run along my pussy.

Oh, my God.