BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5) (7 page)

Misha

She’s out cold and not stirring as I silently pace the tiny apartment, battling back the irritation I feel at this response. It’s not great for my ego having my new wife pass out cold at the thought of being shackled to me.

I bet Lauren Duncan wouldn’t mind being married to me. In fact, I recall just a few weeks ago when she tried to trap me with a pregnancy scare that would have been laughable if I hadn’t been so pissed at the time.

“Oh God, please tell me it was a dream,” I hear from the sofa, my anger rising a little more when she lifts her head to look at me and promptly flops back down with a groan, her arm flung over her eyes in a dramatic pose. “What have you done?”

“Me? If I recall, you almost ate my face off when the justice of the peace married us. I have done only what you agreed to last night,” I growl, stalking her way.

I want her. Now. And she’s having a fit about being my wife.

“But I don’t even remember!”

“Too bad. I do and you most definitely said yes, angel.”

I’m on the move with her in my arms before she can make a sound, and I’m throwing her onto the bed before she can move. And then I let go of it all—the guilt and anger and desperation I felt last night when she was all over that little punk in the club, her ass grinding into him as they moved together on the dance floor.

“Misha—”

“I will have you now. Do not argue. I know you want me just as much, yes?”

She blushes and shakes her head at me, but I see the accelerated breaths she’s trying to calm and the way she keeps glancing at my cock.

“You do, angel. I can see it in the way your blush spreads to your breasts and the way your nipples peak. Are you wet between your legs?” I growl, pushing my briefs down in a blatant display of control that has her pupils flaring brightly.

She wants me. I can see it, scent it, taste it on the air as I stalk towards her, my control almost fracturing when she licks her lips and her thighs clench together.

“Misha, I—”

“
Nyet,
wife,” I murmur, grasping the hem of her ratty shirt and pushing up, ignoring her protests as I divest her of the offensive fabric and attack her pants.

She’s going nuts by the time I have her naked, and I almost laugh at her embarrassment, just barely holding back when she tries to cover herself and shield what is mine.

“No, angel, let me see what is mine,” I murmur throatily, pinning her hands to the mattress beside her head, my knees cradling her hips to keep her still.

“Don’t…”

I don’t listen to a word as I lower my mouth slowly and give her an exquisitely gentle kiss before pulling back to survey the bounty beneath me.

I have the crazy urge to wrap her up and hide her from the world, from all eyes except mine.

“You have a wondrous body, Irina Novac,” I breathe, leaning down to run my nose from her neck to her breasts, paying attention to the scent of her skin as I flick my tongue out for a taste.

I keep that up for a good while until she’s writhing beneath me, her breaths panting and uneven before I pull back and look up, holding her eyes as my mouth opens gently over her nipple.

The contact is explosive, and I growl my approval when she moans long and loudly and pushes herself closer, demanding more.

I give it immediately, loving her hard nipples over and over till she’s keening and I feel crazed for her, and then I pay homage to a belly and thighs that are soft and comforting.

My face goes to her flesh and I revel in her silky drag over my face before venturing lower and resting my cheek at her mons, trying to regain myself.

“You are so beautiful, my angel,” I whisper, opening my mouth and breathing in the musky scent wafting from her wet folds. Irina, my angel, moans again, and I look up to meet her dazed eyes, needing that intimate contact as I lower my mouth and flick the very tip of my tongue over her core, growling at the feel and taste of her petals enveloping my tongue.

“God, that’s….ahh”

I breathe against her flesh, licking and sucking, drawing out her cream in a frenzy when my balls start aching and my cock is throbbing with my heartbeat.

When she’s screaming, pulling at my hair, and so wet that I feel her thighs slide over my cheeks, I rear up and kiss her as I place my crown at her core and push in slightly, my teeth grinding.

She feels so good, so right when I regain control and push in again. I feel my brow bead with sweat and my arms tremble. But she’s with me, I see it in her flushed face and the look of absolute adoration she gives me when I finally settle and fill her fully.

She was pure, and just knowing that has my balls threatening to explode. I want her to love sex with me, to crave it as much as I do.

So I do her right, pulling out slowly and going back in with care, pumping, circling, over and over till I feel, see, and taste nothing but my wife. I’m submerged in bliss when she lets go beneath me and throws her hips back at me, her cries spurring me on as I feel the fluttering deep within her go from small tremors to hard, sucking swallows.

“Misha?”

“Shh, my angel, let it go, feel it,” I grate through my teeth, letting myself pound into her welcoming warmth.

It feels so good as I wrench her hips up and bang into her, seeking her climax as brutally as I seek my own.

When she does finally tense and scream her release, her sheath squeezing my shaft, I feel that last piece click into place and I release into her, praying for all I am worth that my seed floods her womb and does what my desperate, crazy mind needs it to.

I come for ages, more than I ever have before, my jerking thrusts sending every last drop as deep and hard as I can get it. It’s painful in its intensity, and so raw that when I finally regain my sense and find the strength to move I realize I’ve collapsed on her fully.

“Angel, sorry, I—”

“Don’t you dare move a muscle, Misha Novac,” she snarls breathily, her legs locking around my hips to pull me back into her. “I just had sex for the first time and I need cuddling.”

“I should cuddle you, angel, without killing you. Let me turn.”

But she refuses, pulling me in closer and sighing so loudly, it ruffles my hair where my face is plastered to her neck.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” she finally says after minutes of nothing but silent intimacy, her legs unwrapping as she pushes me away.

“Angel—”

“Why? Why go to all this trouble for a screw—”

“
Nyet
! If I had wanted just a screw or a good time in bed, you would have been under me moments after we met, Irina. Never say these things when you speak of yourself again, angel. I will not allow it,” I yell, my glow completely vanishing.

Last night I looked at the smarmy prick touching her, her mouth curving in a friendly smile, and I felt my world crumbling at my feet. I had to do something.

“Misha. This is crazy. We got drunk and got married in a heartbeat, though only God knows how that’s even possible.”

How? I’ve had plan B ready and waiting since I walked into her shop and saw the world’s best ass taunting me. That damn marriage licence has been burning a hole in my pocket for days.

“We will be good together, angel. We’re friends, yes? And we’re good in bed,” I purr, rolling into her with a growl against her pink nipple.

Her shudder of need gratifies me, settling some of the nerves I’ve been battling all morning and I grin, holding myself over her to meet her eyes.

“We can have a good life, angel, we can.”

Irina

Looking deep into his eyes is like seeing the sunrise from a mountaintop. I feel overwhelmed. I also feel owned as he leans over me with his beautiful, tattooed chest and melds his skin to mine, reminding me of the utter pleasure and bone-deep satisfaction still coursing through me.

Then there is the fear and fury.

We’re married. Married, for God’s sake! After only knowing each other a week, he’s looking at me as if I’m his forever, no arguments.

“Stop regretting this, Irina!” he yells suddenly, pushing away with a curse that blisters my ears.

“I, well what do you want me to do?” I yell back, coming to my feet in a rush, my hand movements jerky as I wrap the sheets around me and stand gaping as he paces naked in front of the bed. “Yesterday I had my whole life turned upside down, and today I wake up to find out I’m married to a Russian billionaire who has no qualms about trampling all over me to get what he wants!”

What does he want form me? I don’t understand any of this—why he looked at me and wanted me. Why he couldn’t just be my friend.

Nik and Tatiana surfed the web for hours showing me pictures of his exes, or should I say bed partners, and I have no idea how he can go from being attracted to blonde, skinny socialites to wanting me.

Liza, my only true friend in the caring department, poured milk all over Nik’s laptop at one point and threatened to beat them to death with her cleaver.

The point is, I know what his type is and I am so not it.

“Because you make it so difficult to do it any other way, Irina.” He charges back, stopping an arm’s length away from me.

His chest is rising and falling and I’m almost distracted by the tattoo glaring at me from his left pec.

“You put up walls the moment I talked to you and made up your mind that you wouldn’t even give me a chance. You’ve done nothing but shove your friendship in my face all week, and then you go and drape yourself all over another man, offering him what is mine,” he rages, pacing away again, this time pulling at the long hair on his head.

His is completely unkempt and adorably messy as he keeps pacing and throwing Russian growls my way, stopping only to give me an odd look before continuing.

“Misha, this is ridiculous. We can’t be married to each other. We’re not at all suited,” I try again.

Gone is my glow and any feelings of tenderness when all the man does is sneer and fall into the chair in the corner, his disregard for his nakedness and the erection I have been trying not to look at setting my teeth on edge.

“We are, and we suit just fine, Irina. We are very alike, you and I. We love our family and friends and we work hard to make a good life for those around us.”

Yes, but at what cost?

“Is this because your mama likes me?”

That gets me a laugh and I stamp my foot until he shakes his head and looks up at me.

“No. This is because you have what I want, Irina, and I always get what I want. Ask anyone who has ever done business with me. Now stop trying to annoy me with nonsense and let’s talk about how we’re going to fix your business. Vadim has found two decent locations, my preferred one just down the block on the corner of our street.”

“What?”

“I have found you a new shop—”

“I don’t need a new shop. I like the old one just fine and—”

“And Vadim called earlier when you were comatose and let me know that the place is overrun. If you wish to salvage your dreams, you will have to relocate,” he cuts in impatiently.

I know the place he’s talking about. Heck, I looked at it first and every day since I’ve opened shop. It’s great, but totally out of my price range. Add to that the fact that I have all my money tied up in a building I have only just paid off and I am screwed.

The news deflates my sails and I fall to the side of the bed with a moan. What the hell has happened to my life? A week ago I was riding high on family, success, and thoughts of spending my time with a bottle of wine and ice cream.

I need a pity party right now. One that’ll blow my socks off.

What I get instead is a man who refuses to listen as he sweeps me up and carries me to the bathroom, his lips twitching when I complain about putting his back out.

“Angel, you are a feather compared to some of the things I lifted when I worked construction to earn starting capital. And your body is fucking sexy, never doubt that. Or should I demonstrate again how hard you make me?”

“No, we need to talk—” I start, squeaking when he just lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me hard, his wet, hot tongue spearing into my mouth without pause—licking, sucking, and devouring till I melt all over him and cling to his neck, my nails digging into his scalp.

“Talk is so overrated, angel. Now we take a bath to relieve the ache, and then I take you to fix things, huh?”

I find myself unable to argue when he lowers me to the tiled floor in my tiny bathroom and flips the water on, his lazy stretch afterward making my eyes zero in on his erection.

God, the man is huge. And sexy with that
V
at his hips. I allow myself a look now that I’ve been outvoted, and I want to cream myself when my eyes hit his chest and the ink on his left pec and shoulder.

“Oh my.”

It’s the Reaper, a ghastly, deadly looking visage all in black staring back at me, but somehow I don’t feel disgusted or threatened by the thing. Instead I feel rampant for the feel of that chest and his strength over me again.

But first I want to see it all. So I do. I lean down and take in his ink and shake my head at the lettering beneath the scythe, the words written in Russian.

“What does it say?”

“The dead don’t lie,” he says heavily, his chest rising and falling heavily as I trail my fingers up and around his shoulder, my body going around his back.

This one is a beauty, something I didn’t even note before in the kitchen thanks to his ass. It’s a portrait stretching from his shoulder blades to just above his hips.

What shocks me about it is not the detail, though God knows whoever did this tattoo is a true artist, and I’m also not shocked that the face staring back at me is of a hauntingly beautiful woman. I am shocked to see a name and two dates printed beneath.

Jesus.

“Who’s Mina?” I ask even though I know the answer is not going to be good.

His back is tense, the muscles jerking away when I raise a hand to touch them, wanting for some morbid reason to lay my hands on something I shouldn’t.

This space, this part of him, belongs to her. I know it like I know that I am his now, no matter what I say or do or feel.

The rejection of my touch hurts, and I pull my hand back quickly, swallowing the tears I feel rushing forth.

“The past,” he says stonily before whipping the water off and facing me. “Come, Irina. I need to care for you or you will hurt later.”

Hurt? I think I hurt now and I can’t even say why.

The sheet comes loose with one tug of his hands and I’m turned towards the bath without a word before I hear his gasp and those hands clamp down on my hips to keep me still.

“What the fuck is this?!”

I twist uncomfortably and wince at the black bruise riding low on my ribs and I tear up just remembering how it got there. It hurts that Luka would have pushed me away, and hurts even more that I don’t think he’d even care at this point that it left a mark.

He’d probably take satisfaction from knowing that he avenged Mama’s tears.

“Angel, Jesus, what the hell happened here?” he asks again between clenched teeth, his fingers tenderly probing at the bruise with a frown.

“I, uh, I fell?”

His head comes up swiftly and I meet the terrifyingly intense blue eyes I stared into as I climaxed.

“Never lie to me, Irina. I do not like it. Now get into that bath and tell me what happened to your back or I will not be very nice.”

“Chill out, Misha. I fell. I’m a klutz and accidents happen to me all the freaking time. Stop being such an asshole,” I mutter, grabbing my hair into a bun as he scoots me forward and slides in behind me.

I feel like a freaking whale and more exposed than I have ever been in my life, but the man reacts strongly to all attempts I make to curl into myself and hide my body, instead pulling me back into his chest and resting his hands over my belly.

His sigh of bliss wafts over my ear, even as I giggle at the way he has to bend his knees just to fit.

“I like all this softness, Irina. It’s a huge turn-on to have no bones poking into me, and your ass is perfect for cradling my cock. Now stop squirming around and trying to hide what is mine before he takes the hint and you’re walking bowlegged for a week. Now about that bruise…”

“Drop it.”

“I will. If you agree to move into the store I have bought and paid for,” he demands.

He paid…

“No! I don’t want or need you throwing money around to fix my life. I made my business a success and—”

“And now it is on the verge of ruin unless you do something about it, Irina. I have already paid for the building and started Vadi and Nikita on the path to setting it up for you. It will be ready tomorrow.”

“But, but I can’t afford it, Misha. I put everything into the other shop and I have no collateral for a loan now that it’s closed and—”

“Woman, I am your husband. I can buy you a shop without explaining—”

“No, you can’t. You can’t because I refuse to have my business overtaken by anyone, Misha. I love that shop, but I can’t afford it, and I won’t have you paying for all of my stuff. I want one thing that belongs only to me. Not my family. Not you. Nobody. It’s mine. My accomplishment,” I hiss, pulling up and struggling out of the bath to grab a towel.

It’s not that I mind his sweetness, but I’ve fought my whole life to be out from under my family’s money. You think I couldn’t have skipped the fifteen-hour workdays and the Ramen noodles for two years? That shit sucked, but I relished very single minute of it because when Sweetness started doing good business, I had only myself to pat on the back for it.

Misha comes out of the bath with a snarl, his body sending my wits scattering as he gets out and stalks my way, pinning me to the wall with a frown and ticking jaw.

“Then sell the old shop to me. It will be a trade of sorts, and I’ll recoup my outlay.”

He’s being reasonable…and he just came up with the perfect way for me to get what I need.