Page 60 of The Lies Between Lovers

Happy.

But sore.

“Oh, my God—Da ... da, there. Pozhaluysta—please. Vas, I’m gonna ... Pozhal—”

“Der’mo,” came his responding cuss when her shaking and moans stopped her from saying more. One last thrust took her orgasm to the next level, but she felt the truth inside her, too. The way he held her there, tight to all nine and half inches of his jerking cock while his hands clamped down on her side and right breast. He had come, too.

He almost seemed shocked, his palm slapping down twice to her ass when he finally let her go and pulled free from her still-clenching sex. “Had me nutting like a boy.”

Vera laughed, but even the sound was airless and high, as he pulled her leg down from the edge of the counter. “I barely did any work.”

“Let me at least save face, woman.”

Vera had her usual quip at the ready to respond, but the loud screech and subsequent apology that followed the sudden rattle of dishes had both of them forgetting their conversation altogether. She spun around fast, her hands flying up and down to cover her body from view, but Vaslav’s larger form kept her well-hidden. He’d been fast enough to grab the towel from the floor, but it only dangled from his hand at his side. He didn’t even bother to shield his nakedness the way she did.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” Mira called from the next room. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought. Dinner is ready. I assumed you wanted it upstairs when you didn’t come down.”

Behind Vas, Vera whispered, “I did tell you it was almost ready.”

His shoulders shook with laughter, and Vera had to stand up on her tiptoes and lean around him to see the open doorway of the bathroom where Mira must have gotten her eyeful. Not that she stood there any longer.

Her footsteps quickly carried further from the space. All the while, she never stopped apologizing.

“Been a while since she’s had to put up with that from me,” he mused, turning to face Vera. She shifted on her feet, wincing a bit from the ache in her upper legs and the delicious throb between her thighs. He didn’t miss it, but she barely felt the pain at all when his hands cupped her cheeks, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Are you sore?”

“Only a little. It wouldn’t even bother me, really.”

“Better question, then. Do you want to be?”

That had Vera grinning.

“As long as you let me eat first. I was looking forward to the soup.”

Vaslav’s laugher, rich and rolling, coated her in warmth. “Well, let me feed you.”

17.

Igor drummed his fingers against the side of his leg while Vaslav focused on the man’s lotus flower tattoo that crawled up the back of his bald head.

“Something on your mind, comrade?” Vaslav asked.

That was the third time he’d drummed his fingers like that, after all. Sure, it wasn’t particularly fun waiting for the only elevator in the Federal Colonial to crawl from the secure basement to the first floor—it also wasn’t enough to bore the man. And since he knew Igor likely wasn’t bored considering what waited for them downstairs, that left Vaslav with the only other option on the table that could cause his little tic.

Something was on his mind.

The elevator, only visible where it had been built in by a single panel of reflective metal that acted as the outside of the door, slid open. Inside was the same reflective metal, not a camera in sight, and only a single panel at the back wall in the middle with black buttons, no directions, to choose a floor. Tucked away at the end of what looked like a private corridor attached to the east side of the home’s large room that was position directly across from his den’s quarters, most people never even saw the elevator.

Once, the space had been used for parties and later, his mother turned it into her private bar to entertain, and even Vaslav’s dead wife had taken a crack at remodeling the open space with natural oak floors and high, vaulted ceilings.

The little corridor in the back always remained closed, though. Especially after he upgraded the house a decade earlier to install the elevator that would take him into the basement without using the cellar doors on the outside of the home. Not that that entrance would give anyone entrance to the reinforced, double-walled section of basement he’d added a few years back where no one could hear a man scream.

It took a while for things like that to come together. The elevator was the easy part.

Igor stepped aside to let Vaslav enter the elevator first, admitting to his boss, “I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to voice what I was thinking. I try not to die because my brain thinks stupid things and lets them come out of my mouth without permission.”

That coaxed a good chuckle out of Vaslav while Igor situated himself beside him in the elevator. It wasn’t a large box. Four by four feet—if that. Large enough for two men to travel down at a time—particularly if one was in a body bag.

“Was that—did you laugh?” Igor asked, side-eyeing Vas as he reached over and pressed the black button on the bottom of the panel.