Bad, Bad Things (11 page)
Authors: Lolita Lopez
“Sunset pink,” I whisper, wishing his fingers were touching me, not the cotton.
“Sunset pink,” he repeats softly, his lips mere centimeters from mine. My eyes drift closed as he brushes his mouth against mine. “I missed you so much, Ofelia.”
“You didn’t say goodbye.” I don’t even try to hide the hurt and disappointment in my voice. “I woke up and you were gone.”
Sergei plants a tender kiss on my forehead. “I wanted to stay but…the Mexicans and the money and the mess.”
I hold his gaze so he can’t evade me. “And that took three weeks and a trip to Russia to sort out?”
“No. I
did
have business in Russia but not for so long. I was…confused,” he says eventually.
“Are you still confused?”
Sergei caresses my cheek. “No. We both make mistake before but we can start over, yes?”
My heart swells and threatens to burst. “Yes.”
His eyebrows arch. “No more schemes?”
“No more insurance?”
“
Nyet
.” Sergei reaches over and buckles my seat belt. He pecks my cheek and gives his driver a signal. Kitch presses a button on the dash and the separating glass rises into place. We’re alone. Finally.
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Lolita Lopez
“Where are we going?” I snuggle as close as my seat belt will allow. “Hotel room?
Or maybe one of those sleek yachts of yours I always see splashed in the tabloids?”
Sergei laughs and curves an arm around my shoulders. “We go on yacht soon. You pick destination.” He kisses me and rubs his thumb over my chin. “Now we go home. I promised your mother I bring you.”
My jaw drops. Mom
never
meets strangers. The day Sergei brought me home, she stayed in her room. “You spoke with my mother?” He nods. “How?”
“Delia let me in to see her. I bring her macaroon from Paris.”
Oh, he’s good. Those pastel-colored confections have always been Mom’s guilty pleasure. “Now how the hell did you know she loves Laduree macaroons?”
“The same way I know your favorite flower is peony; you always wanted to play cello but would not practice; and your favorite food is something called…” He pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls down the screen until he finds the note he’s left himself. “Carne guisada.”
He absolutely butchers the pronunciation of my favorite meal but I let it slide. “And how is that?”
“I ask friends. Jolie and Eugenia.”
I’m thrown by the Eugenia for a bit. “Oh God! Don’t ever let Fox hear you call her Eugenia!”
He frowns with confusion. “But that is name.”
“Yes, but it’s horrid. It belongs to some old knitting nanny with fifty cats. No.” I shake my head. “She goes by Fox and has since we were kids.”
“Why Fox?”
“Crazy like a fox. It’s a saying.”
“Ah.”
But I can tell he doesn’t really get it. It must be one of those things that doesn’t translate well.
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Bad, Bad Things
“Your mother is nice woman.” Sergei pockets his phone. “We manage to talk after few awkward moments. I think she liked me.”
“If she let you in to see her, she liked you.”
“So did housekeeper. She made me lunch.”
With a chuckle of amusement, I snuggle close to him. “Delia is such a mother hen.
You know, the only real external conscience I’ve ever had, the only person who’s ever been ballsy enough to tell me no or call me on my crap, has been Delia.”
“I would expect nothing less from grandmother.”
I stiffen at his unexpected words and pull free. I can’t tear my eyes away. “Who told you?”
“This,” he touches my nose, “and these,” he gestures to my eyes, “tell me everything. Delia have same. She is grandmother.”
“Yes.” It’s something I’ve never admitted—and it feels so good to say it finally.
“Yes. She’s my grandmother.”
“But she works as housekeeper.” I can hear the displeasure in his voice.
“It’s not like that, Sergei.” I sigh and push a hand through my hair. “It’s really complicated.”
“I want to know.”
I close my eyes and exhale. “My mother had an affair with Delia’s son. Mom was still married to James. The marriage was bad and she was lonely and needed someone and he was there.”
“And you were conceived.”
My head bobs. “James went ballistic when he found out about it. The affair ended their marriage. He got a lot of money to keep it all quiet and claim me as his. Back then, adultery wasn’t such a blasé thing in Hollywood.”
“It should not be now,” Sergei comments rather grumpily. I’m a little surprised by the moral line he’s drawn. Apparently marriage is one of the things he holds absolute.
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Lolita Lopez
“Delia’s son—my father—left as soon as Mom told him she was pregnant. It was just a fling with a famous movie star to him. He was dabbling in club promoting at the time so access to stars was easy.”
“That must have been difficult for Delia.”
“She didn’t work for Mom yet. Delia showed up on our doorstep a few weeks later.
She was sent by an agency for a job listing. Mom didn’t know who she was when she hired her. It didn’t all come out until right before I was born but by then, Mom and Delia had become very close.”
“So she stay,” Sergei finishes.
“So she stayed. She was in the hospital the night I was born. She’s been there every day since.”
“And your father?”
“He started up a pretty successful promotions company, married a really nice woman—a teacher—and had five kids. They’re really happy.” My throat tightens.
Embarrassment blazes across my face. “I’ve never told anyone this…and I’m not sure why I’m telling
you
, but I went to see him once, after Mom was hurt. I was so lost and confused and I really needed a second parent, you know?”
Sergei nods as if he understands. “
Da
.”
“I made an appointment to see him but when I got there, his receptionist told me he’d had an urgent meeting. I could hear him in his office, laughing and talking on the phone. I asked if I could reschedule and she said no. He was booked for the foreseeable future. She handed me an envelope with a check for five thousand dollars in it and a sticky note.”
Just like then, I feel sucker-punched and sick. “You know what it said?” I look at Sergei, a sad smile curving my lips. He hesitantly shakes his head. “A parting gift.” I swallow hard. “A fucking parting gift. That’s all I was worth to him. A lousy five K.”
“Ofelia.” He breathes my name so sadly. “I should not have asked. I am sorry.”
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Bad, Bad Things
“Don’t be.” I give a little shrug. “It kind of feels nice to tell you these things.”
My admission makes him smile. “I am happy to have trust.”
I lean over and kiss his cheek. “You’ve earned it.”
Sergei cups my face and captures my lips in a lazy, thorough kiss. When it finally ends, he gazes into my eyes. “You are worth more than five thousand to me.”
“Oh yeah?” I can’t help but smile at that.
“Yes. Much, much more.”
I want to ask how much but I already know. The amount he paid to get that drug cartel off my ass was obscene. God only knows what he did to smooth over the nightmare at the drug house.
Thinking about all he’s done for me, all he’s put on the line, makes me a little nervous. I’m afraid to admit it aloud but I am
so
in love with him. He’s that elusive other half I’ve been searching for all these years. He’s the only man who will ever understand me, the real me, the real Ofelia.
“Sergei?”
He clearly hears the seriousness in my voice. With a little frown of concern, he touches my chin. “What is wrong?”
“What if you wake up one day and decide you don’t want me anymore?”
“Will never happen,
lubimaya
.” He’s completely confident in this. “You are sneaky, brilliant, beautiful—my perfect match.” He brushes back my hair. “You are only woman for me.”
“So where do we go from here?” I’ve never been in this situation and have no idea what to expect. “Are we exclusive? Are we, like, open?” I think of his penchant for naughty domination scenes with other men and my lust-filled nights with Jolie and Fox.
“Are you still going to play your games?”
He gives a little shrug and pierces me with the sexiest of smiles. “Maybe we play game together.”
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Lolita Lopez
A thrill of excitement ripples through me. The prospect of a little adventurous sex with Sergei and maybe another man or woman makes me so hot. I have the feeling our relationship may stay firmly outside the box—and that’s okay. We’re far from typical, after all. I mean, how many girls can say they snagged their man with a blackmail plot gone awry?
Sergei gathers me close. “From now on, I take care of you and mother and sister and grandmother. I spoil you with jewelry and clothes and trips around world. I make love to you every night until you beg me to stop.” He smiles against my temple.
“Maybe in morning too.”
“Sergei!” I laugh and relax into the warmth of his embrace. For the first time in a long time, I feel safe and secure. Even though there’s a chance this could end in tears, I’m committed to seeing it through. Maybe we’ll still be together in ten years, or maybe we’ll make a huge splash in a few months when we have the most spectacularly sordid breakup this town—and Marco’s website—has ever seen.
“What happens if I get tired of all this spoiling and red-hot sex?”
Sergei’s hand slips beneath his jacket still draped over my shoulders. His hand forms around my breast and gives it a playful squeeze. He nibbles my lower lip as his hand moves to the hidden inner pocket of his jacket.
I gape at the sight of the DVD in his hand. I can’t help but laugh. “You didn’t!”
Sergei grins and waves the DVD. “You see, I have something that belong to you.”
Bliss bubbles in my belly. Damn, but he really is good. It’s thrilling to be on the other end of a blackmail attempt, even if it is just a joke.
I tease my lips over his. “And if I say no to your demands?”
Sergei’s hand tangles in my hair and he takes my mouth passionately. “If you get tired of me and leave, I know nice man in pink shirt with gossip site and two girls who think you could use taste of your medicine.”
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Bad, Bad Things
I offer my best scowl at the idea of Sergei using my crew. “You would find them impossible to work with. They’re not as easily swayed by those gorgeous green eyes.” I pause and giggle. “At least not Jolie and Fox.”
Sergei chuckles and twists a few strands of my hair around his finger. He extends the DVD. “Take it. Destroy it. Keep it. Your choice.”
I click my teeth in mock disappointment. “But it’s your bargaining chip!”
Sergei just shrugs and nuzzles his nose against my neck. He nips at the sensitive skin and sends shockwaves of need straight to my clit. “We make new one…”
And as his greedy fingers sneak between my thighs, I don’t doubt it.
The End
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About the Author
While browsing bookstore shelves as a teenager, Lo discovered the erotic writings of Anaïs Nin and Anne Roquelaure. Certain her mother would not approve, Lo smuggled the books home and squirreled them away in the most likely of places—
under her bed. Late at night, she delved into the sensual worlds both writers created.
As a co-ed studying biochemistry and genetics at Texas A&M University, Lo dabbled in creating naughty tales to entertain her friends. Study for a midterm or pen a deliciously dirty story to delight her small band of fans? Not surprisingly, Lo is now on an extended sabbatical from college.
Luckily, Lo stumbled onto the world of erotic romance publishers. She realized there were other readers and writers who loved and craved breathtaking romance with the spiciest of love scenes. She took a chance and submitted her first novella. The rest is history.
Lo lives in Texas with her family and beloved Great Dane, Bosley.
Lo welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address
on her author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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