Chapter 2
Two
MIKHAIL
The next day, she’s watching me again. I feel her eyes on me before I even round the corner. Same spot. Same time. Three weeks of this shit, and she still thinks I don’t notice.
Maya Ross. Twenty-three. Broke. Staying in Dmitry’s pool house while he and Ana are off playing honeymooners in Europe.
And she’s been eye-fucking me every morning since she moved in.
I keep my pace steady, my breathing controlled, even though my dick’s already half-hard just knowing she’s out there. In those little shorts that show off her juicy ass and thick thighs. And a tank top that does fuck-all to cover her big, round tits.
“Hello!”
Her voice hits me like a fucking freight train. It’s too bright, too fucking sweet.
I don’t stop. Don’t look. Just keep running.
Because if I stop, if I look at her, I’m going to do something stupid. Like throw her over my shoulder and carry her inside my house. Show her exactly what happens to good girls who tease men like me.
“Nice day for a run!”
Fuck.
I’m rock-hard now. Have to adjust myself as I turn the corner, out of her sight.
Three weeks of this torture. Three weeks of watching her pretend she’s not watching me.
Three weeks of knowing she touches herself at night thinking about me.
Because I’ve heard her. Seen the lights go off in that pool house, heard her soft gasps through the cracked window when she thinks no one’s listening.
I know everything about her.
How she takes her coffee. Black, with two sugars.
What time she wakes up. At six-fifteen, like clockwork.
That she’s been applying for jobs online every afternoon, getting rejection after rejection.
That she’s too proud to ask for help but desperate enough to accept Ana’s charity.
And I know she wants me. Has wanted me since day fucking one.
But she’s Dmitry’s guest. Under his protection. In his house.
Off. Fucking. Limits.
I cut my run short. Two miles instead of five. Because I can’t keep going with this hard-on trying to break through my shorts.
I need to get home. Now.
I let myself into my house, strip out of my running gear, and head straight for the shower. But I don’t make it that far.
My hand’s wrapped around my big dick before I even get the water running.
Fuck.
I brace one palm against the marble tile wall, the other stroking hard and fast.
I think about her mouth. How her full lips would feel wrapped around my cock.
Her perfect ass in those shorts, bent over my kitchen counter.
Her thick thighs spread wide while I bury my face between them.
The sounds she’d make. The way she’d gasp my name.
Mine.
I come with a grunt, spilling over my hand, my jaw clenched so tight it aches.
It’s not enough. It’s never fucking enough.
I need the real thing. Need her.
But I can’t have her.
I wash up, throw on jeans and a t-shirt, and I’m pouring myself coffee when my phone rings.
It’s Katya, my sister.
“Yeah.”
“Misha.” Her voice sounds like she gargled razors. “I’m sick. The doctor says it’s just a bad cold, but David’s got it too. So, Sofia can’t stay with us. I wouldn’t ask, but with Mom and Dad on their cruise… We need you to take her. Just for a few days. Please.”
My poor sister and her dumbass husband are dog-sick, great. But there’s no way I’m letting them pass this shit to my little princess.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thank you. But Misha…” She coughs, and it sounds wet and painful. “She’ll need… activities. Conversation. You know.”
“I know.”
I hang up and stare at my coffee.
Sofia. For a few days. In my house. I can handle that. I’ve handled worse.
But then my brain does something fucking stupid. It pictures Maya in my house with Sofia. Playing, laughing, making my niece smile. Making me… No.
But the thought’s already taken root. And once I get an idea in my head, there’s no shaking it.
Maya needs money. She needs a place to stay that isn’t charity.
Sofia needs someone who isn’t her grumpy asshole uncle, who grunts instead of talking.
And I need…
I need Maya under my roof. In my space. Where I can finally stop pretending I don’t want her.
I grab my keys and head out.
* * *
Ten minutes later, I’m at Katya’s. Poor thing looks like death. She’s pale, shaking, and wrapped in a blanket even though it’s seventy degrees outside.
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks, big brother. Always so comforting.” She tries to laugh but ends up coughing instead.
“Where’s Sofia?”
“Upstairs. She’s already packed. I told her she’s going on an adventure with Uncle Misha.”
I shake my head, my lips stretching into one of the rare smiles I reserve for a very few, and head upstairs to find my niece in her room, sitting on her fluffy bed with a sparkly pink backpack next to her.
She looks up when I walk in, and her entire face lights up.
“Uncle Misha!”
She launches herself at me, and I catch her easily, lifting her into my arms.
“Hey, princess.”
“Mommy says I get to stay with you! We’re going to have so much fun!”
I grunt.
She giggles. “That means yes.”
Smart kid.
I set her down and grab her backpack. “Got everything?”
“Yep! Mommy packed my clothes, my toothbrush and my stuffy.” She holds up a ratty stuffed bear that’s seen better days.
“Good. Let’s go.”
She slips her small hand into mine. I never get tired of this feeling. The warmth that spreads through my chest whenever I’m close to this kid. This six-year-old bundle of energy and joy.
We head downstairs. Katya’s on the couch, looking worse than ever.
“Be good for Uncle Misha, baby.”
Sofia kisses her mom’s cheek. “I will! Get better, Mommy!”
David is sprawled next to her at the other end of the couch, looking even worse. Serves him right for knocking up my sweet, innocent baby sister. Asshole. His eyes meet mine over Sofia’s head. And he croaks out, “Thanks, Mikhail.”
I grunt, baring my teeth at him, and he lets out a ragged laugh, holding his chest. I chuckle darkly and wave a hand at them.
Outside, I buckle Sofia into the backseat and get behind the wheel.
“Where are we going, Uncle Misha?”
“Home.”
“Your house?”
“Yeah.”
“Will it just be us?”
I shake my head. Nope. Because I’m about to do something I should’ve done weeks ago. I’m gonna take what’s mine.
I pull up to my place, park in the driveway, and grab Sofia’s hand.
“Come on, princess.”
She takes my hand again, and we walk. But not to my front door. We’re going to the gate next door. To Maya.
Sofia looks up at me, confused. “Uncle Misha? Where are we going?”
“To get you a friend.”
I ring the bell and wait. Maya picks up the intercom. And hearing her soft voice instantly relaxes me. After a brief exchange, the gate clicks open, and there she is. In a sundress that hugs every fucking curve. Her curls pulled up, showing off her soft neck. Her big brown eyes, wide with surprise.
“Mikhail?”
Hearing my name in her mouth makes my chest warm, and my balls tighten.
I don’t answer. Just look at her. And this time, I don’t look away.