From Russia With Claws (15 page)

Irina leaned over to hiss in her ear as soon as she sat down. “I am going to
murder
you.”

Galina ignored her sister’s threat and turned her attention to the dancers on the stage. She felt much more relaxed now that she’d had an orgasm or five. She heard the door to the box open, forcing herself not to react when Andrey ran warm fingers down her shoulder. Konstantin returned to his seat behind her a few minutes later. She wasn’t quite sure where Nik had gone.

Alexei and Papa were asleep in their seats. It figured. Papa spent a ridiculous amount of money on the box seats and then slept through most of the performance. Why Alexei even bothered to come, she’d never know. Maksim had disappeared. She wondered if he had hightailed it to the bar when the snoring started.

The curtain lowered and Galina stood smoothly, clapping for the ballet she hadn’t bothered to pay attention to. Papa and Alexei awoke from their expensive nap at the applause and rose to their feet. Papa shouted, “Brava, brava!” as if he’d been awake for the whole show. Galina stifled a chuckle behind her clutch. Alexei blinked sleepily and stumbled out of the box as Papa clapped Andrey on the shoulder and interrogated him on his favorite parts of the ballet. Galina caught Andrey’s wink at her sister and had to smother her grin behind her purse. She waited while he and Papa left, taking the time to fluff her blond hair and reapply her lipstick.

“You—” Irina pointed at her, a dire look on her face. “We’re going to have a talk.”

Galina gave her a placid look. “About what, dearest sister?”

“You know, you have a little carpet fuzz on your dress,” Viktor told her, waving his hand at her skirt.

Galina stuck out her tongue at Viktor, then took Irina’s wrist and led her out of the box, speaking low so only Irina could hear. “Consider it payback for finding you in the funeral home after you rode Viktor’s hand to happy land.” She grinned when her sister looked offended.

“That is hardly the same situation at all!” Irina exclaimed as they carefully navigated the sweeping staircase.

Andrey helped Irina on with her wrap, to Alexei’s obvious dismay, while Konstantin did the same for Galina. Papa returned with Maksim and Petyr in tow. The two had become friends at the bar as they waited out the second act together, drinking vodka and swapping tales of their beloved Russia. Maksim was swaying a little on his feet. Galina felt a bit sorry for him. No one but Papa could keep up with Uncle Petyr.

Papa suggested an outing to a gentleman’s club, intending to spend some quality time with a bottle of Stoli, insisting that Maksim, Andrey and Alexei join him. Alexei agreed immediately, followed quickly by Maksim. Andrey begged off, pleading morning meetings.

“I’ll get Mrs. Volkov home safely,” Viktor told Papa. Galina kept her face conveniently blank.

Papa beamed at Viktor and patted him shoulder. Alexei’s face went red as he realized that he’d missed the opportunity to take Irina home himself and tried to hedge his way out of late-night drinks at the club. “Well, maybe I should take Irina home. I don’t know if I trust Viktor to keep her safe.”

Galina practically snorted in amusement. After the incident with him shredding Irina’s clothes, he was delusion if he thought he was fooling anyone. He was so transparent that he made glass look opaque.

“Viktor has my complete trust,” Papa announced, making even Andrey’s eyebrows rise. Irina clutched at Galina’s hand, her eyes wide. Galina watched her father thoughtfully. This was the first time she could remember Papa contradicting Alexei in public since they were children. Could this mean that their father’s “eldest is the only option” mind-set was finally changing? Could her continuous questioning be undermining Papa’s stubborn confidence in Alexei’s ability to lead? She certainly hoped so.

Maksim pulled Alexei aside, already talking about his plans for expanding the import business. Alexei had no choice but to drop his argument.

Viktor inclined his head and fell in step behind Irina. “Thank you, sir.”

“Then Konstantin should go with Nik, and Andrey can escort Galina since Viktor will be coming with me,” Irina offered, a knowing look in her eyes.

Galina frowned, certain she was missing something, especially when Nik wouldn’t look at her. Had something happened while she and Andrey had been busy in the cloak room? Irina looked positively giddy. She was definitely going to need to speak to her sister tomorrow.

Andrey’s lips twitched as he said, “That’s fine. I can see Miss Sudenko home.”

“I can see my own self home, thank you very much,” she said tartly. “I did make my way here all by myself, after all.” She batted her eyelashes at everyone.

“Of course,” Irina said, just as sweetly, shooting her an evil smile. “But I would feel more comfortable if you had an escort.”

Galina wanted to reach out and shake her sister until her teeth rattled. What the hell was she playing at with this? She felt Andrey move closer. She wished she wasn’t so attuned to his presence. He was getting to be a constant distraction. A pleasant distraction certainly, but a distraction nonetheless.

She shot her sister a pointed glare. “Fine.”

“Fine, fine,” Papa said dismissively, and cuffed their brother on the shoulder. “Come, Alexei, Maksim, join the men at the club. We have many things to talk about.”

Papa dragged a reluctant Alexei toward the door. Alexei kept shooting poisonous looks at Viktor. Galina couldn’t help but grin. “I wish I could have recorded that and posted it on YouTube,” she said, laughing when Alexei was out of sight. “Alexei knows he got tricked but he’s not sure how. The gears in his head are smoking.”

“Well, I can’t look at any of you right now, so we’re going to go,” Irina said, taking Viktor’s arm. “Galina, if you’re not at my house at nine a.m. sharp, I will bring a tranq gun and a net to yours.”

Galina sighed. “You are so dramatic sometimes.” She laughed as Irina dragged Viktor off.

“You could have sounded a bit more pleased with the outcome,” Andrey whispered, his breath fanning the hair at her neck. “I don’t bite.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Galina murmured without thinking. When she realized what she’d just implied, she felt a flush creep across her face. Had she just really insinuated the mating bite? Really? Was she an idiot? She had no interest in tying herself to Andrey permanently; he was just a great bit of fun. Especially since it looked like Papa was serious about pairing him with Irina. To want more than that was ridiculous.

She felt his hand at the small of her back. “I’ve got an early morning, so I’m going to call it a night.” She was ready to be out of the eyes of her family and back in her apartment where she could berate herself in private. She said her good-byes to Nik and Konstantin and walked to where the Maybach waited, not bothering to see if Andrey followed.

His hand slipped under her elbow when she was halfway across the wide expanse of stone tiles that separated the theater from the line of cars in the front of the building. He said nothing as they walked, both of them mindful of the eyes of her family that watched from the glass walls of the theater’s atrium. Galina nodded to her driver who held the door open for her and Andrey. She slid inside, moving to the far side of the bench seat.

“How did you find out about Nik?” was the first thing she asked him once the driver closed the door on them.

Andrey ran a hand through his dark hair, disturbing it from its neat coif. It fell across his forehead and into his eyes, making him look younger. His steel blue eyes locked with hers and Galina felt those damn flutters begin in her belly. How could he do this to her with just a look?

“Konstantin suspected and mentioned it to me about a year ago.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. Galina’s sensitive ears picked up the sound of stubble prickling across his hand. “I just accepted it as truth. I trust Konstantin in these things.”

She turned her body to face him. “You’ve known for a
year?”

He nodded, hair falling back into his eyes. “More or less.”

“And you haven’t told anyone?” Galina’s head spun. All she could think about was protecting Nikolai. She knew the organization’s feelings on same sex pairings. Nikolai could be killed if he were outed. It was part of why Papa wasn’t willing to promote him to family head, even though Alexei was clearly unsuited for the position. Papa loved Nikolai and shielded him as much as he could, but there was only so much he could do. If anyone found out, Nik would be sacrificed to maintain the appearance of machismo within the family.

Andrey put a finger under her chin. His lips were very close to hers. “Why would I tell anyone about Nikolai? I like him. He’s a good man. And Konstantin likes him.”

Galina blinked, feeling tears of relief spring to the back of her eyes. She would
not
cry, damn it. But the thought of Andrey knowing and not saying anything about her brother’s sexual orientation, even when it could have improved his position in the organization undid her. “Thank you,” she whispered, placing a gentle hand on his knee.

“Galina, I would never hurt Nikolai. Or you.”

She blinked, surprised by his admission. She lowered her gaze to her hand on his leg, lashes sweeping low to hide her eyes. This was more intimate than she got with anyone. She wondered how close to her apartment they were.

“How long have you known about Konstantin?” she asked, just to have something to say.

He laughed softly, a low, mellow sound. “Since we were in high school,” he admitted easily, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He lightly kissed each of her fingertips. “We were best friends, as I’ve said. I was the only one he trusted enough to tell. It was a great honor.” He licked at the pad of her index finger.

She inhaled sharply at the heat of his tongue on her hand. “You’re a good man,” she whispered, her insides twisting. She was out of her depth here.

He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. She stared into his face, searching the strong planes and angles of it for what she didn’t know. He looked tired. She reached a hand to his cheek and he nuzzled his head against her palm, eyelids dropping closed. Her fingers stretched out to stroke at his temple, brushing the hair back. “You
are
a good man,” she repeated.

His eyes snapped open and his head jerked out of her palm, putting them nose to nose. He smiled darkly, his eyes looking more grey than blue as he stared at her. His mouth thinned, the smile turning cruel. “But I’m not a good man, Galina.” He pulled back suddenly. “In that you are very, very mistaken.”

She caught his face in her hands, stopping his escape so he had to look at her. Carefully she moved to sit in his lap, her dress pooling around them. Her naked sex was pressed against the rough fabric covering his crotch and it took all of her self-control to not move herself up and down over him. “I think you’re mistaken.” She leaned forward, running her tongue over the hard line of his lips. She caught the look of surprise in his eyes. “And I’m the only one who matters.”

Galina claimed his mouth, showing him without words what she thought of him. For Nikolai alone, she would always be grateful. But it was more than that. She liked Andrey, and not just for the sex. He surprised her. Not many people did that anymore. His lips opened, softening beneath her kisses. She kept the pace slow, taking her time to learn the shape of his lips, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his teeth. Her hands held his head in place as she kissed him deeply, not allowing him to pull away from her.

His hands grasped at her waist spasmodically. Galina took her time, sliding her tongue around his, sucking on it until he moaned against her mouth. She felt his cock stiffen and push against the fabric of his pants, pressing against her wet pussy with every flex of her thighs as she held herself just above his lap.

She released his mouth to press her lips to the pulsing beat at his neck. She licked over it, then closed her mouth over it to tease it with her teeth. He surged up, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Fuck!” he shouted hoarsely, shaking his head. His cock spasmed against her, and Galina smiled against his neck.

Her hands worked to free him. He shuddered, dropping his head against her shoulder when her hand wrapped around his shaft. His breath gusted out of him, like he’d just run a sprint. She pressed her thumb into the slit at the head of him and he cried out. His head fell back against the backseat, eyes almost rolling back in his head. His hips pumped his cock into her hand, and Galina flexed her wrist, keeping her strokes long and even. She used her hand to spread the pre-come over his shaft, twisting her thumb over the head.

Andrey lifted his head once more, his eyes hungry and desperate. She increased her speed, feeling his hips thrusting as she drew him closer and closer to the edge of his release. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Keeping the rhythm of her strokes even, she lined up the head of him, stopping and holding the base of his cock as she lowered herself onto him.

Galina watched Andrey’s face as she slowly sheathed him within her walls. She kept a tight grip on the base of his cock to keep him from spending himself too soon. He groaned, pushing up into her blindly. She brushed hair away from his face and kissed him again as she began to move, setting the pace.

His hands clutched at her back, grabbing and pulling at her hair. Galina smiled, enjoying the cries she wrung from Andrey as she rolled her hips against him and tightened her hand around him. He growled, snapping his hips hard against her, trying to drive the rhythm to what he wanted. Galina pulled back, keeping only the head of his cock inside her, giving him a warning squeeze. This was her show to run. She wanted to do this for him, to him.

“
Сладкая
,” he whispered, his head dropping to her shoulder once more. He sucked gently at the space where her neck joined her shoulder. He’d just called her sweet in Russian.

“Mine,” she whispered back, sheathing him once again.

“Yours,” he agreed, moaning as her pace quickened. His eyes met hers, desire and something else burning in his gaze. He kissed her, his mouth a burning brand against her own.