Exposed (18 page)

He moved, walked backward. His lips still on hers, his hands warm and strong under her bottom to hold her against his body. Plants brushed against her skin as they moved, and more than once Ivan careened into a plant or giant pot or table, but he wouldn’t drag his mouth and eyes away from June to look.

Finally, June felt her bottom hit something solid and realized hazily that Ivan had pressed them up against a wooden table at the very back of the greenhouse.

June scooted back to sit on the table, dimly aware of pots and plants tipping over in her wake. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care that there was soil on her dungarees and dirt in her hair. All she cared about in that moment was Ivan. Ivan’s mouth on hers. Ivan’s hands on her body. She wanted all of him. She
needed
all of him and couldn’t stop until he was hers.

She deepened their kiss, sucked on his lip and pushed her tongue into his mouth and reveled at the way she could make him groan.

June slipped her hands up Ivan’s back and pulled him tight against her—tighter and tighter. She didn’t want to be able to feel where she ended and he began. He stood between her knees, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Her fingers walked up the ridges of his spine and gripped at his shoulder blades. They were hard with bunched muscle under her palms—his whole body was hard.

She could feel it now. Pressing against her stomach all the way down to the mound of her own center. Ivan’s erection was warm and rigid against her, and June’s eyes popped open. Not in surprise at the feel of Ivan pressed into her, but at her own overwhelming desire.

Save for that morning at the bridge, June never allowed herself to lose control like this, to succumb wholly. Only Ivan did this to her. It was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. 

June let her eyes slip closed and deepened their kiss, giving in to her craving. Goosebumps and heat crawled over her skin until she wasn’t sure if she’d melt or shatter. 

But she was sure she wanted this.

Ivan’s hand slid down her hip and reached around her thigh, leaving shivers in his wake. He tugged her leg so she parted more fully to him and moaned against her lips. Her limbs quivered at the sound of him, at the naked need, but she clamped down hard against the muscles of his back and held on. He rocked his hips against her and June saw bursts of fireworks behind her eyelids. 

He thrust his hips again and again, until June had to pull away from his greedy mouth just to catch her breath. Her leg fell from Ivan’s hand and her entire body trembled so fiercely she had to tilt against Ivan’s chest. 

It may have been minutes or years they’d stayed like this, limbs twined together and bodies pressed tight. Her heart was a drum in her chest, her stomach a forest of butterflies. She buried her head into Ivan’s chest then pulled back to look up at him. 

All around, the flowers in the greenhouse turned their faces to them, living planets to their little sun.

June sighed and lifted her chin, pecked at his lips with her eyelids heavy. Ivan slid his mouth to the side, kissed lightly along her jawline, down to the hollow where her jaw met her ear. June craned her neck, moving so he could kiss her more, more, more. Each kiss more gentle than the last. He nipped at her ear, his cool breath on her earlobe making her shiver.

June ran her fingers lightly down Ivan’s chest and caught up his fingers between her own. Warmth made a languid trail through her body, reaching from the place where their fingers twined all the way to her toes. 

Every bit of June’s body felt alive and lush, like the plants in the hothouse. Ivan dragged his eyes away from June for a moment, and she was aware of movement. June glanced over her shoulder, and her lips parted in awe. 

Behind them, the plants were swaying together, weaving branches and leaves like a hundred lovers twining hands. 

Ivan’s voice drew her back to him. “I’ll take you to the ocean, June. I’ll take you anywhere.”

“And what will we do at the ocean?” Everything about June smiled as she looked up at Ivan. 

There was stubble across his sharp jawline. It shadowed the hollows under his cheekbones and chin. She watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat and the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. She wanted to memorize every bit of Ivan—his hair and eyes and voice and touch—so she could replay this later and feel exactly how she did in this moment.

His eyes were bright and fervent and his words rumbled through his chest and against hers so she could feel them inside of her. “We’ll ride horses on a beach and eat fish caught the same day.”

Her heart hurt in her chest, but it was the good kind of hurt. 

She realized in an instant why it’d been so hard to answer Meg’s question the other day. It wasn’t about where she wanted to go, it was simply about going. Exploring. Experiencing. June wasn’t going to visit Paris and suddenly be content. Her heart longed to wander, and June saw in Ivan’s eyes that he did too.

“We’ll gather starfish in tide pools,” she said, “and sail out to a private island.” 

It felt the most natural thing in the world, to fit her body against his. June let her fingers explore his hard, flat stomach and up to his chest. She ran her hands down to his hips where they fit snugly between her knees. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the base of his throat and heard his breath catch just the tiniest bit. His fingers tightened against her hips and he pressed himself into her. 

And she was consumed again. Wonderfully consumed.

Ivan’s voice rumbled through her again, saying something in Russian so deep and low that it vibrated her very core. He lifted June’s hand to his mouth and kissed each finger, letting his lips slip around the tip of her fingers for just a moment that made June ache for more. 

He peppered light kisses across her palm and lingered at the underside of her wrist. His voice was warm against the tender skin of her wrist. “We’ll drink milk from coconuts and swim under the moon.”

She leaned into him to continue the kiss, let her hands snake up and around his neck to get tangled in his thick, dark hair. But Ivan curved his body away from hers, just the tiniest bit. 

His fingers dipped down, down. They trailed against her breasts, and just the barest touch of them made her arch her back. But his fingers moved lower. Lower still, until anticipation was taut within her.

He moved ever so slowly, his hand inching closer to the heat emanating from her center. His fingers dipped between her legs and rubbed against her pants.

She felt his touch all throughout her body. Her lips parted in a gasp that just made Ivan massage her more. And more and more. 

Then just as suddenly, he was pulling away and grabbing at the button of her dungarees. 

June wiggled back to give him more access. She needed to feel his touch. Feel him slip past the last barrier between them. She tightened just at the thought of what he could do to her, make her feel. She felt slick with the promise of it.

But beyond the screen of flowers and plants holding them in their private cocoon, someone loudly cleared his throat. 

Ivan groaned and leaned his forehead against June’s. His hand pulled away from the button of her pants and he rested his palms on her thighs. They were both panting, hungry for more, and it took all of June’s will to pull herself back from exploring his body. Together, they reclaimed their breath, but June knew it would take much longer for her cheeks to fade from fiery red to a soft pink. 

The flowers and plants turned away, and just through the greenery at the entrance to the hothouse, Kostya stood with his face very obviously staring at the ceiling. “Getting on with the flower selection?”

“Nearly done,” Ivan called. His voice was rough as he called out, and his cough couldn’t quite hide the way Kostya laughed.

June pressed her kiss-swollen lips together and wove her fingers through Ivan’s. She should have been embarrassed to be found like this, but she wasn’t. And she wouldn’t be. Who cared what others thought. 

June sneaked a peek up at Ivan. His eyes were far-away and half dazed, but his smile. His lovely smile. It pulled wide on his face and creased his cheeks, and June in that moment would have done anything to see that smile always. 

Ivan flicked his eyes to her, and his smile widened. It warmed June to the core to see his blue eyes dancing with it, his whole body alive with it. This was the Ivan she’d seen only glimpses of, the man she suspected laid underneath the scowl and sharp eyes. 

June’s smile matched his own, and when Ivan grabbed her hand to help her down from the table, she didn’t let go.

Cheeks red and sore from smiling so hard, June and Ivan filed past Kostya. The air outside the greenhouse snapped with cool, dry air that filled June’s lungs. The sky had turned dark and the first stars blinked to life above them. Lights around the farm bled little circles of yellow like fireflies in a summer meadow. 

“My cabin … it’s not quite finished, but ….”

He left the invitation hanging in the air, and the way his thumb rubbed circles into June’s wrist she nearly let herself succumb again. But the cool mountain air had swept away the haze of the greenhouse, and June reluctantly shook her head.

What would have happened if Kostya hadn’t interrupted them? Part of her wished that man had never entered the greenhouse, but another part—the part that craved a sense of control—was relieved. Ivan had undone her completely, and June wasn’t quite sure she was ready for that abandon.

“I should get back,” June said to him. “But I’d like to see it. Soon, Ivan.”

“As soon as you’d like.” Ivan stared out over the fields, his mouth opening and closing. He sucked in a quick breath. “June, tonight. It wasn’t … I don’t usually do things like that with women I’ve just met.”

June squeezed his hand. “I know. I don’t usually …,” June laughed ruefully. “I don’t
ever
. What would people say.” She kept her voice level but let her eyes spark. Ivan’s eyes went wide for a second but then he recognized the sarcasm and laughed. It was a good sound. 

But then the laugh fell away and Ivan’s eyebrows worried into a frown. “What will they say?”

“I honestly don’t care. And oh, Ivan. It’s the best feeling.” June curled her lips into a devious smile. “You’re rubbing off on me, Ivan Abramovich Sokolov.”

Ivan kept his warm hand tight around June’s and led her back toward the truck and home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ivan

Ivan hummed to himself. He’d been humming all morning. Hell, he’d even awoken with a smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been happy to greet a new day.

But now, he couldn’t stop humming. Couldn’t stop smiling.

“Mama is beside herself,” Kostya said, coming up behind Ivan in the hothouse.

Ivan cocked an eyebrow and kept working, snipping from the cultivated rows of flowers in the second greenhouse to create a bouquet.

“I think she’s already knitting baby bonnets.” Kostya shook his head, but he was smiling.

Ivan snipped a final anemone—dark purple with an indigo center—and faced his older brother. “Finally, I’ll be the favorite.”

Kostya snorted. “You’re already the favorite, Ivanushka.” He paused and touched a calloused finger to the edge of a white hydrangea in the bouquet. “I like her.”

“Mama? I do too.”

His brother stared at him, and Ivan grinned. “Ivan, I’m serious. I’ve not seen you smile so much in years,” Kostya said, pulling tin buckets from a cabinet. 

Ivan and his brother weren’t ones to share their feelings. Kostya cleared his throat and kept his face turned away. “I thought we’d be old bachelors together, but if you can’t make it without a woman ….”

Ivan tied string around the stems of the bouquet. It was done in purples and whites with some sprays of rangy goldenrod he’d picked that morning along the fence line—beautiful with a surprising undercurrent of wildness, just like June.

“I’ve only just met her,” Ivan said to Kostya, more to reassure his brother than anything.

Kostya looked up then. “Don’t try to deny what’s there, brother.” He moved farther into the greenhouse, filling his buckets with flowers for the market.

Ivan was left alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t deny what he was feeling for June, despite how he tried. He’d been telling the truth to Kostya. He and June had never spoken two words to each other until a week ago, and yet ….

When he’d woken this morning, Ivan had wandered through his cabin. And he’d wondered … could June be comfortable with him there? She longed to travel, but when she came home, could it be there? Perhaps if he added bookshelves beside the fireplace and a handcrafted wardrobe for the bedroom. He’d been fantasizing not just about June, but about a future together.

It was mad, so mad. A future couldn’t hang on a single kiss. Yet he could deny it no longer. It was more than a physical connection with June. She brought out a lightness he’d long thought vanished. She’d made him joyful, something he hadn’t thought he was capable of anymore.

His world had been consumed with rage, but these few days with June had rejuvenated him. Ivan hadn’t realized how draining it was to spend his days in anger.

And more than that, digging up this buried part of Ivan had exposed more. The first green shoots of trust. An ability to see kindness where before he saw only cynicism and hypocrisy. 

Ivan pushed open the greenhouse door and squinted up at the brilliant sunlight, a smile on his face. He laid the bouquet gently onto the seat next to him in the truck and drove into town.

He’d been wrong about June, so wrong. 

It would take time and a lot more trust, but maybe—just maybe—June was right about kindness. Perhaps if he showed others kindness, they’d return it. 

A very large part of Ivan didn’t believe anything he could do would make a damn bit of difference. The people of Independence Falls would always throw suspicion on his family. But maybe he’d be surprised.

Ivan walked down the sidewalk with his chin up and the giant bouquet held tight in his hand. Like normal, people turned heads toward him, stared.