My Russian Beast: Standalone Billionaire Romance (5 page)

S
ergei knocked
on the door once. “I’m coming in.” He didn’t wait for an answer but took his time opening the door. The muffled shriek coming from the bathroom made his lips curve in amusement, and when he stepped inside he saw Fredericka frozen next to the sink, wide-eyed, a toothbrush hanging from her mouth.

“Mind if I brush my teeth next to you?”

She sputtered incoherently in answer, which the billionaire took as an affirmative since it was what suited him. Moving forward, he stopped the moment the sides of their bodies brushed and was rewarded by a muffled whimper.

Sexual inexperience had never been a turn-on for him, but with Fredericka, it had turned into an aphrodisiac. The way she reacted so quickly and powerfully to his every movement made his own body tighten in arousal, and he could only imagine how magnificently responsive she would be when he finally got to fuck her.

Beside him, Fredericka had bent down to rinse her mouth and he gazed at her lazily, admiring the elegant length of her neck. She had already changed into pajamas – white cotton with pink polka dots. His type in the past could be summed up as beautiful and shallow, the kind that he would always be able to control. But ever since meeting Fredericka---

Practical but feminine was his new type now, the kind that wore cotton pajamas with cute pink polka dots.

“Excuse me.” Fredericka’s mumbled words drew his attention back to her, and his amusement grew when he saw how she studiously avoided his gaze.

Taking a step back to let her pass, he waited until she had taken a step forward before moving again, deliberately bumping into her.

She gasped, her gray eyes flying to him.

“Why are you so nervous,
pchelka
?” he teased huskily.

“I’m not,” Fredericka couldn’t help lying. In the years she had been living in her smaller-than-average apartment, she had never wished it could be bigger and more luxurious but at that moment, she did wish her apartment had more space.

More space meant she wouldn’t be constantly forced to be in close proximity with Sergei Grachyov. More space meant she wouldn’t be constantly subjected to an up-close look of the billionaire’s impressively muscular body, which was built like one of those a-hoo-shouting Spartans in
300.

And most importantly of all, more space meant she wouldn’t have to constantly feel like she was in
heat
, with the craziest urge to tear clothes off.

His.

Hers.

It didn’t matter.

Someone just had to be naked and then---

Shit.
Fredericka ducked her head again, heat blooming in her cheeks at the appallingly lewd direction of her thoughts. “I g-gotta go.”

Watching Fredericka rush out of the bathroom like a criminal on the run, the billionaire thought,
There’s nowhere for you to run, pchelka.
She was the woman he wanted, and there was nothing – no one – he wanted that didn’t ever become his.

Fredericka was in the middle of pulling the covers up when she heard Sergei walk back into the bedroom. A moment later and he was standing in front of her, and her eyes widened when he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?” she demanded shrilly.

“I never sleep with my clothes on.” As he spoke, the billionaire had already dispensed with his shirt, leaving him bare-chested.

Her throat went dry, and her heart started hammering against her chest again.

Abs.

Too, too much abs.

“You’re staring at me again,” Sergei drawled.

Shit.

She whipped her gaze away, muttering, “It’s because you’re so ugly.”

But the billionaire only laughed, his ego immense enough to be insult-proof.

“You’re doing this to torment me, aren’t you?” she accused him.

“Not at all,” the billionaire dismissed as he placed his neatly folded shirt on the bedside table. “I’m just ticking another item off our bucket list.” Dark eyes gleaming, he looked at her, saying silkily, “
See each other’s naked bodies and not be grossed out
.”

Oh!

She remembered reading that line from the bucket list---

And then she saw the billionaire reach for the buttons of his pants.

Shit.

Fredericka quickly turned around and switched the light off, the same time she heard the faint but distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled down.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Fredericka scooted to the edge of the bed as she felt it dip, and her body tensed when she felt the billionaire get into bed with her.

You asked for this, Fredericka Spears.

Darkness prevented her from seeing anything, but the thought that Sergei Grachyov was lying next to her, without a stitch of clothes on, was tortuous and made her barely able to breathe. Swallowing, she asked in a small voice, “ Are you really naked?”

Instead of answering, Sergei started moving closer.

She stiffened. “Stop.” She was already lying at the very edge of the bed, and there was nowhere for her to go.

But the billionaire continued to move closer, and the bed continued to dip towards her side, forcing Fredericka to clutch the edge to prevent herself from falling. “Sergei,” she protested. “Stop---”

But it was too late.

Every inch of his hot, powerful body was suddenly pressed against her, and she bit back a whimper.

Oh God.

“Does that answer your question?” Sergei’s rough, accented growl made Fredericka shudder, the involuntary response causing her belly to come into full contact with his cock.

Ah!

Sergei sucked in his breath, his plan to arouse Fredericka backfiring as his own control over his body threatened to snap. Lust so powerful had struck him the moment he felt her womanhood rub against his erection, and now the mere scent of her fed his arousal.

Blyad.

With near-inhuman strength, Sergei managed to pull away from her and rolled to his back, breathing hard.

As soon as the billionaire pulled away, Fredericka quickly flipped on her back as well, staring into the darkness as she tried her best to calm her still-hammering heartbeat.

The bed shifted, the billionaire moving, and she swallowed hard as she sensed him locking his fingers behind his head.

Oh God.

She could easily picture how sexy he looked at that moment, with his hand behind him, his hard, naked body in full display.

Fredericka squeezed her eyes shut.

This was going to be a long, long night.

And it was.

It was almost five in the morning when sheer exhaustion made her fall asleep, only for her buzzing alarm clock to wake her up an hour and a half later. Her head pounded like the devil, and sleep beckoned like an addictive drug.

But when she turned to her side, Fredericka became wide-awake in the next second.

The other side of the bed was empty, and she sat up, looking around her, searching but finding no sign of the billionaire.

“Sergei?”

She felt silly saying his name out loud, but what was sillier was the way she actually
hoped
he would answer back.

But only silence answered her.

Getting up, Fredericka stepped out of her bedroom, and the little hope she had left of seeing Sergei disappeared when she still didn’t see any sign of the billionaire.

He really was gone.

The thought made her feel heavy with emotions she couldn’t and didn’t want to name, and she forcibly reminded herself that there wasn’t any reason for her to feel bad in any way.
He’s just a friend, dammit.

A friend, the way Alyx and Anneke were her friends.

The other girls slept over her place, too, and there were also times when she completely missed them the morning after. That hadn’t made her cry, so the billionaire leaving her before she woke up shouldn’t bother her either.

Right?

Fredericka nodded determinedly to herself.
I’m not bothered. I’m not bothered. I’m not bothered
. She repeated this line over and over in the shower and on her way out. She chanted it to herself while buying herself a croissant and coffee, but by the time she made it to the office, her mental pep talk had done her no good.

She still felt like she had been dumped.

“Good morning, Ms. Spears,” Selena, Fawkes & Rogers’ nineteen-year-old receptionist, greeted her with a frosty smile.

“Morning, Selena.” She forced herself to smile politely even as she privately wondered why it was that all the women these days seemed to hate her. First, there was Sergei Grachyov’s secretary, and now it was the law firm’s receptionist, who hadn’t ever bothered to greet her in the past.

She was about to walk past reception when Selena called out to her, saying, “You have a delivery.”

Halting mid-step, Fredericka turned to face the receptionist, more surprised than anything by Selena’s disgruntled tone. “What is it?” she asked, and her confusion deepened when the younger woman’s gaze slowly moved over her from head to toe.

A moment later, and Selena flipped her hair over her shoulder, as if saying that she didn’t find Fredericka any kind of threat. “I had it sent to your office,” the receptionist murmured offhandedly. “It was taking too much space, I couldn’t work.”

“Oh. Okay.” Turning around again, Fredericka wondered what kind of work Selena was talking about that it would require the entire counter space. As far as she knew, all Selena had to do was take care of the logbook and answer calls.

When she made it to her floor, Fredericka was bewildered by the looks that went her way. In Fawkes & Rogers, connections meant everything, and since Fredericka had none to speak of, her stellar performance in the courtroom had meant little to the law firm’s senior partners. She was still a nonentity as far as they were concerned, and she had never figured in anyone’s radar---

Until now.

“Good morning, Attorney Spears.”

“Good morning, Attorney Fawkes.” Fredericka managed to keep her voice steady even as she wondered if she had somehow stepped into another dimension. In every meeting, the senior partner had always referred to her as Attorney Smith, and no one had ever found the courage to correct him.

As she made her way to her office, the same thing happened over and over, with other lawyers going out their way to talk to her.

By her count, she had been waylaid fifteen times---

Fourteen times more than the people who remembered to greet her on her birthday last year,
Fredericka thought disbelievingly. And at that time, only the janitor had remembered to greet her.

When she finally reached her office, she quickly closed the door and shook her head to herself. That was incredibly weird---

And then she saw it.

An elegant arrangement of white roses on her desk, its long stems visible within the crystal vase, and a pristine white envelope tucked between the flowers.

Her heart started hammering, and her hands were trembling hard as she reached for the envelope. It was unsealed, and she had a feeling that Selena had already taken a look at its contents. When she pulled it out, the first thing she saw was the golden insignia embossed on the card---

Grachyov Enterprises
, Fredericka thought. In California, the logo representing the Grachyovs’ corporate empire was as familiar to locals as Nike’s check mark was to the rest of the world, and she knew that this was the reason behind everyone’s unexpected change of attitude towards her.

Her gaze moved downwards, and she gulped at the billionaire’s one-liner message.

H
ave dinner with me tonight
.

Y
our friend
,

S.G.

“
Y
our bill
, sir.”

Taking the leather folder from the waiter, Sergei handed it to Fredericka, smiling slyly. “Friends, right?”

She snatched the bill from him with a glare. “Cheapskate,” she muttered under her breath after reluctantly handing over her credit card.

But this only made the billionaire smile lazily. It had been two months since they had started going out as so-called friends, and if anything, his fascination over Fredericka Spears had only deepened, bordering on obsession.

In the past, watching his youngest brother react with possessive jealousy whenever he saw Seri in the company of another man had amused him to no end. He had chalked it down to Vassi always being the most volatile of them three and had privately thought that such a thing would never happen to him.

But fate proved him wrong
, the billionaire mused,
by sending a gray-eyed redhead to torment him
.

When it was time to leave, he stood up first to pull her chair out for her, and Fredericka flashed him an embarrassed smile of thanks.

Practical yet feminine.

The words once again fleeted in his mind, a description that he now knew was perfectly apt. He liked how she was fiercely independent when it came to her work but without allowing it to overshadow her femininity. Most women he dated were either one or the other, career-driven or drunk on their vanity. Both types of women were only able to entertain him inside the bedroom, but outside they either bored or disgusted him.

“Are you heading back to the office after this?” Fredericka asked as they stepped out of the restaurant.

“No.” His brief answer had her glancing at him in bemusement, but even, so he refused to elaborate. She was better off not knowing the truth. Walking her to the parking lot, he smiled down at her, saying softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow,
da
?”

Her obedient nod pleased him, and Sergei lowered his head, intending to place a friendly goodbye kiss on her cheek. But then he inhaled the sweet mild scent of her fragrance, and just like that white-hot desire laced his blood, arousal stirring his loins.

Blyad.

His lips touched one silky soft cheek and stayed there, lingering, every cell in his brain urging him to move his mouth until it covered hers.

“S-Sergei.”

Fredericka’s choked whisper forced him back to his senses, and he drew away reluctantly.

“You need to stop doing that,” she muttered.

“I can’t help it,” he answered in a deliberately light tone, knowing that it wasn’t the right time to let her know that he wasn’t joking. It was the truth, and it was why thirty minutes later he was in Madeline’s house, with the model bent over her dining table while the billionaire fucked her from behind.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
Every gasp was punctuated by the slapping sounds of their thrusting bodies, with Sergei pounding hard into her. He was determined to fuck both of them out of their minds, just as he had been doing for the past two months.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he squeezed Madeline’s ass hard, all the while pretending it was Fredericka he was fucking.

He knew it was cruel and sick, knew it was dishonorable and deceitful, but he no longer gave a damn.

If this was the only way to make sure he kept his hands off Fredericka while he worked on winning her trust, then to hell with his honor.

To hell with everything.

He would do whatever it took to keep Fredericka in his life, would do everything to ensure that in the end she would be his alone.

After leaving her house, he called his secretary and gave her the usual instructions. By tonight, the model would receive yet another expensive piece of jewelry, which he knew Madeline would understand was both a thank-you gift as well as a reminder that theirs was purely a sexual relationship and that to expect anything from it would mean the end of their liaison.

Back in the office, Sergei’s executives immediately sat up as the company’s young vice president walked inside the conference room. Although it had only been a few years since he had started working full time in Grachyov Enterprises, Sergei had become infamous for his strict adherence to protocol. Executives that dared to show up with one strand of hair out of place were fined for being unprofessional while those who dared come in one minute late for any meeting were sent a sternly worded memo about attendance.

Today’s meeting involved a potential merger between Grachyov Enterprises and a European company, and the executives of
both
firms were quietly perspiring at the thought of having to present their arguments to the young Russian vice president.

It was a well-known fact that Sergei Grachyov was even more exacting than his father, and if the proposed merger was not to his liking---

Everyone gulped silently as the vice president stood up, a chilling look of disapproval his face. “The proposal has merit, but it significant lacks supporting data.” Looking at the people on the table one by one, he asked in a soft, silky voice, “Why is that, do you suppose? Did you not all have sufficient time to prepare for this meeting?”

The executive leading Grachyov Enterprises’ M&A team blanched. He was going to get sacked. He could feel it in his bones, and he wanted to cry.

“Did you think my time was for all of you to waste?”

I’m going to throw up,
another executive thought sickly. His CEO had told him not to leave until he had Sergei Grachyov’s signature on the contract, and he had a bad feeling that was as likely as him dating the billionaire’s famously hot stepsister Seri Devereux.

“I’m waiting for an answer, gentlemen.”

The silence in the room was such that the ticking secondhand of the wall clock could actually be heard. Although no one was looking at each other, much less meet the billionaire’s gaze, everyone’s thoughts ran along the same lines.

If only they had more time to prepare the data that Sergei Grachyov was asking for.

If only.

But everyone knew that Sergei Grachyov didn’t do second chances, and so a miracle was the only way for this disaster to be averted. A miracle, coming in the form of---

Someone’s phone started to ring.

The executives simultaneously bowed their heads in horrified defeat.
Goodbye, world.
This was it: the perfectly bad ending for the worst day in their lives. Which idiot would be stupid enough to keep his phone switched on in a conference room with---

“What can I do for you,
pchelka
?”

Everyone’s heads jerked up, shock written all over their faces. Was this truly Sergei Grachyov, actually taking a phone call in the middle of a meeting?

They watched the billionaire’s lips curve, a sight so rare for the aloof Russian that everyone was struck dumb seeing it. “No, you’re not disturbing me.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped. This was even more of a bigger miracle than they thought! Not only had the billionaire, who was a notorious workaholic, answered a call during a meeting, but it was a personal one – what seemed like a
booty call
even – at that!

Sergei waved his executives and those of the other company away, gesturing to the door so that they would know he was giving them a break. “This is the first time you’ve called me of your own accord,
pchelka
. To what do I owe the honor of this pleasure?” As he spoke, he watched in puzzlement as everyone practically ran out of the conference room and started laughing and cheering outside, with one of the executives even falling to his knees, shouting hallelujah.

The noise seemed to have reached Fredericka as well as she asked, “Are you in a party?”

“No. I’m still at the office, but the people around me appear inordinately happy.”

“Must be because you’re the nicest boss ever,” Fredericka couldn’t help quipping.

“I am nice.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

He ignored that, saying, “What did you want to talk about?”

Silence.

“Shall I take a guess? You missed me perhaps?”

“Uhh, no.”

Liar,
he thought. The way her voice had suddenly quivered was answer enough, and he chuckled, saying, “It’s alright,
pchelka
, I missed you, too.”

“That’s not it, I told you,” she insisted, and this time she did sound serious enough to make him frown.

“What is it then?”

“Mr. Fawkes sent for me earlier,” Fredericka shared uneasily. “He asked me questions about you.”

Sergei stiffened. “And?”

Fredericka started to babble. “In not so many words, he made it clear that if I’m not going to be your future wife, and when I obviously told him I’m not---”

The billionaire’s lips tightened.

“He gave me this disapproving look and told me I shouldn’t let you
besmirch
– that’s the exact word Mr. Fawkes used, Sergei.
Besmirch.
” Her voice started to rise.
“He thinks spending time with you will have my professional reputation besmirched as well as the law firm’s, and don’t you think that’s such a stupid thing? Does he really think it’s impossible for a man and a woman to be just friends?”

Yes,
Sergei thought. It was impossible, but he wouldn’t let her know that since the illusion of friendship between them was what allowed him to keep her close.

“That’s the problem with this place, it’s still stuck in the Middle Ages, and I’m beginning to wonder why I’m even working here---”

“Fredericka.
” She fell silent at his quiet intrusion, and it finally dawned on her that she had gone off the rails in the past few minutes. “What exactly is the problem?”

“He thinks I’m your mistress, and he doesn’t want mistresses working for him.”

Ah. Sergei said calmly, “I will fix this.”

“No, no. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Your problems are due to my presence in your life,
pchelka
. Of course I must do something---”

“I’m already sorting it out on my own,” she cut him off in a rush. “I told him I’m dating Julian Alexeyev---”

The billionaire’s jaw clenched. “Is that so?”

“Anything to get him off my back,” Fredericka sighed.

Silence.

“Sergei?”

“You haven’t any need to go to such extent,” the billionaire said coldly. “You could have told him I was still dating Madeline Carter.”

“Oh.” The surprise in her voice was obvious, but so was the faint hurt underlining it, and his jaw clenched harder. What the hell had she expected, after telling him that she had used dating Julian Alexeyev as an excuse?

“Y-you’re still dating her?” The trembling note in her voice begged him to say no.

“Do you have a problem with it?” His hard tone demanded her to say yes so he could be done with all the lies.

Silence.

And then Fredericka answered woodenly, “I’m relieved.”