Abby
Mila lifts me from her bike, and I cling to her, not letting go when she sets me on my feet. I’m shaking too much to stand. As thrilling as that ride was, I don’t think I’ll be riding with my new friend any time soon, and I can see why Thatcher prefers to backpack Misha.
She chuckles, walking us both to where Misha and Thatcher are just now crossing the finish line. “You are an excellent backpack, even if we didn’t win. I didn’t have to do anything to accommodate you like I usually do for Thatch.”
Yeah, because I was holding on for my dear life. She passes me to Misha, and I give her my best enthusiastic “haha” as I collapse into him.
“Sorry, my love. She’s crazy, I know,” he whispers, petting my hair to calm me.
Thatcher, not traumatized at all, skips over to Mila, picks her up, and spins her around. “Great job, babe! You almost had the win!”
“I would’ve had the win if it wasn’t for that asshole,” Misha murmurs only loud enough for me to hear.
“Ooo, what happened?”
He picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and nuzzles into my neck. “I’ll tell you later, lesnaya. It’s been too long since I’ve kissed those pretty lips.”
He does just that, kissing me like it’s been weeks since our last instead of half an hour. God, it’s amazing, though. I’m so lost in Misha that I don’t even realize he’s carried me to the other side of the track until he sets me down on his other bike.
“I would’ve won with this one,” he mumbles.
A familiar laugh floats toward me from behind.
“You keep telling yourself that, Cocoa.” Nikki slaps Misha on the shoulder, then turns to me with a smile. “Now you, on the other hand, did a spectacular job.”
“Oh, stop it.” Rolling my eyes, I punch his arm. “I didn’t do anything but hold on to Mila for dear life.”
“That’s a feat in itself. I’ve seen the way she rides.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Misha says, stepping between us.
Nikki laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender. “This is the first time I’ve seen you two together…You’re perfect.”
“Thank you!” I grin at his compliment and proudly grab Misha’s arm. I think we look damn good together, but it’s nice to hear it from others. “Congratulations to you, mister, winner of your own race!”
“Thanks, Abby.”
Pain hides behind his soft smile. I want to ask in and comfort my friend, but I know now isn’t the time.
Plus, I’m pretty sure Misha is one interaction with Nikki away from going full caveman.
We’ll have to talk about that soon. He needs to know that I would never betray him.
If I can trust his relationship with Mila, he will have to learn to trust mine as well. Again, not the time.
Misha mumbles something under his breath in Russian, and I startle as Mila laughs from beside me.
She and Thatcher must have popped up out of nowhere.
I know she’s a Bratva boss and everything, but I do have decent ears.
Always listening, always on guard…I’m sure it’s just the race that has me off kilter, or maybe I know that I never have to worry about anything with Misha around.
He smiles down at me as I wrap my arms around him and squeeze.
“I told you I’d beat you tonight,” Mila teases. “It’s payback for what you did to me last time we raced.”
Misha clears his throat, and the others lose themselves in laughter. There’s definitely a story there, and he’s not getting off so easily. I raise a brow at him, letting him know just that.
“I’ll tell you later,” he half mumbles, half chuckles.
“Make sure you hold him to that. It’s a good one. And if you ever need any dirt on him, you know where to go.” Mila winks. “Alrighty then, if we are all done here, I think I need to get my guy home.”
“Oh, I will definitely take you up on that offer.”
Maybe it’ll be some leverage I can use when I tell him about all of the skeletons in my closet. I was going to do that after the game tonight, but I didn’t know there would be a race. I suppose I still can…
Misha kisses the top of my head. “Home sounds amazing. What do you think, darling? Are you ready to head out?”
“Home would be perfection.” The thought of home relaxes me, and with my adrenaline finally gone, I’m hit with a sudden plea from my bladder. “But do you mind if I use the restroom first?”
“Of course love.”
After we say our goodbyes, Misha walks me to the women’s restroom, where I have to practically swat him away from coming in with me.
“Fine, but I’m waiting right out here, and I’ll break this door down the minute I hear a peep.”
Rolling my eyes, I make my way inside and find the relief I so desperately needed.
Who’s going to bother me at an event so heavily guarded?
I mean, sure, it’s full of Mafia and Bratva guys, but only a fool would mess with Misha’s girl, not to mention a personal guest of Nikki himself.
That’s one thing I learned from being married to Mayor Fitzpatrick.
Men move around you in fear, as if they’ll lose a hand if they touch you.
I’ve barely stepped out of the stall when I’m pushed back inside with two large hands covering my eyes and mouth.
Time stands still, and for a moment, I believe it’s just Misha playing with me, but everything is wrong.
The smell is wrong, the size of the arms wrapped around me is wrong, even the breathing is wrong.
I stiffen at the realization, and my captor squeezes me harder.
“I know he’s right outside the door, but if you make a sound, I’ll kill you before he can get to you. Do you understand?”
I nod as much as I can in the tight grip. I know that voice. It’s etched in my memory as clear as day. McKenzie O’Reilly, Conor’s best friend, and my most prolific abuser. He loosens his hold on me and spins me around.
“Well, look at you, Niamh, almost completely unrecognizable. Conor was wrong about you being unfuckable, though.” He takes a strand of my hair and twirls it between his thumb and finger.
“Red hair or blonde, I couldn’t care less what color it is.
You’re still my favorite plaything, even if you did spread your legs for that Russian bastard.
That wasn’t part of the plan, you know. Conor is very upset about it.
I had to talk him out of getting rid of you.
You have me to thank for your pathetic little life, and when you get back to Canada, I’m going to enjoy all the ways you’ll pay me back. ”
“I am not going back with you. I would rather die now,” I hiss, spitting in his face.
Chuckling, he wipes himself clean. “Oh, you’re coming back with us, alright.
You may not care about your life or your parents anymore, but not only have we successfully infiltrated the Santori Mafia, we’re into the Taranov Bratva, as well.
Your lover’s little bitch of a friend’s name is Mila, right?
Well, she’s dead the second we find out you’ve gone off script. ”
“No,” I whisper.
My life hasn’t meant anything for years, but Misha would die if anything happened to Mila. Then he would blame me.
“Now you listen, and you listen good. You’re going to go back outside and act like everything is perfectly fine.
We will have a jet waiting for you before dawn tomorrow to take your ass right back to Canada.
I don’t care what you have to do to get out of his place unnoticed, but you fucking do it.
If we find out you’ve said a peep, we will kill the Russian bitch. Do you understand?
I nod.
“Good girl, now go.”
I stomp his foot on my way out, and he grabs me again, licking up my neck. “I like this version of you. I’m going to insist Conor hold off on the drugs for a while. Your fight is delicious.”
I gag when he spanks my ass, and he laughs, pushing me out of the stall.
Five deep breaths to compose myself. I’ve barely twisted the doorknob when it flies open, Misha staring down at me with concern.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“Yeah, I think Mila’s driving messed up my stomach.” Not necessarily what you want to tell your very new lover, but it’s the best I’ve got.
To my surprise, he doesn’t seem grossed out at all. Instead, he laughs, throwing his arm around my shoulders.
“Happens to the best of us. Now let’s get you home.”
Home…how close I was to having that.
My stomach ruse gave me reason to be quiet on the ride home.
I held on tight to Misha, tighter than ever before, crying silently as I took him in for the last time.
By the time we got home, I had pulled myself together enough to put on a facade.
I’ve had years of practice hiding my emotions, but I don’t need it tonight.
It’s easy to tap into the version of me who belongs to Misha. So I leave my sorrows behind, if only for a few hours, and do just that. Belong to Misha.
If Conor allows me to live, it will be a fate worse than death, and I’ll need this one last night to go to. One last happy memory to visit. One last flicker of light when darkness threatens to take over.
By the time I’m showered and clean from the day, Misha’s already sprawled out on the bed.
His bare, tatted skin glows with the city lights filtering through the windows, like a dark angel.
Pausing at the door, I take him in. He’s magnificent.
He is the devastating combination of harsh masculinity and divine beauty.
Something that should be carved in stone for humanity to admire for thousands of years.
I know that my admiration will continue until my last breath, whenever that might be.
I’m not able to hide from him for long. His gaze always finds me sooner rather than later.
“Are you feeling better?”
I smile softly as I nod.
“Good.” Smiling, he reaches out his hand. “Then come here, my beautiful girl.”
I waste no time following his command. My time with him is limited, and I plan to spend it all wrapped in his embrace.
I stop just short of the bed, taking notice of how he’s already as solid as a rock. That is magnificent as well.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I know you’re not feeling well, but I can’t help it.”
I chuckle, crawling slowly onto the bed between his legs.
“Abby, what are you—”
With my eyes locked on his, I take the head of his cock into my mouth.
I certainly know how to suck a dick, but Misha’s is the first one I’ve actually enjoyed.
And God, do I enjoy it. The thought alone has me salivating.
I crave it even though he rarely gives me the chance to taste him.
He’s usually so adamant about my pleasure, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m worshipping this man.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back, only momentarily breaking our eye contact before bringing his attention back to me.
I work him the way I know he loves, taking him deep in my throat and using my tongue to play with his piercing as I suck.
It doesn’t take long before he’s shaking with restraint.
He never wants to finish in my mouth even though I wish he would.
I’ve asked why before, but all I got was a vague mumble about only filling up my pussy for a while.
As much as I would love to have a mouthful of his cum, I slow my pursuit. His good girl until the end. His best girl. The one he’ll always remember…
Reaching down, he takes a strand of my hair in his hand and combs it gently behind my ear.
He rests his hand there as I take him in shallowly, playing with his piercing.
His calluses are rough against my skin as he ever so delicately rubs my cheek with his thumb.
It’s easier to maintain his gaze when I’m not working him so hard, and I can’t look away.
His eyes are glazed over, but it’s not lust, it’s awe.
It’s love. The love I’ve become so accustomed to. The love I’ll hold on to for eternity.
The ache between my legs becomes unbearable as I remember that this is my last night with Misha.
I give him one last deep suck before repositioning myself to straddle him.
He doesn’t normally like to give me control, but tonight, he doesn’t seem to mind.
Tonight, he watches in awe as I sink down on him.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight, baby.” His hands go instinctively to my hips, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like they belong there. Because they do. Because I’m his.
Regardless of what happens tomorrow, I know that I will always belong to Misha Mavrin.
I can’t help but wonder why the universe would put him in my life only to take him away.
I could be angry. I could curse the stars who dangled heaven in front of my face.
But I choose to look at this from a different narrative.
Perhaps in another existence, we lived a happy life together…madly in love until our dying breath. And when our time was up, we begged the heavens for more time. Maybe this is the answer to our prayer, that we would find each other in every life, if even for a moment.
I smile at that thought. That no matter how dark things get, I’ll never be empty like I was again.
Because I’ve finally been made whole. And no matter what happens to me, as long as the other half of my soul carries on, so will I.
Leaning down, I press my lips to his, kissing him gently before pulling back just enough to search his eyes. “I love you.”