Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories) (79 page)

After an
age,
it was Octavia who spoke first. ''My God, if we have sex like that every time, I won't ever bother getting out of bed.''

''Just wait til I'm old and gray, and can't get it up. You won't want to stay in bed all the time then.''

''I don't care. I will be old as well. We'll have to make do with cuddling each other to orgasm.''

Her hair was
wet
and a few strands clung to the sweat on her forehead. He brushed them
away,
and kissed her there. 'I don't know about you, but I need to sleep a bit.'' Octavia held him as he drifted off. She followed soon after.

They woke two hours later, still clinging to each other. Slava got up and turned on the shower. '' Wanna join me?'' he asked. When Octavia turned away from him, willing him to soap her back, he couldn't resist bending her forward and thrusting himself into her once more.

The next day they lifted the anchor and began to sail into the marina at Gladesville. As they got off the boat, Slava put his arm around her. There was a click as a camera went off.

''That'll be all over the tabloids by tomorrow,'' Octavia said. ''I tell you, it never stops.'' They walked into a bar that served breakfast. It was dark inside and free of prying eyes. The exertions of the previous evening had left them in dire need of food, and they both ordered a large fry up.

''Tell me about your family Slava,'' she asked.

''Are you sure you want to know?''

''Yes. Your father, what's he
really
like?''

''He's a bastard.''

Octavia looked shocked. ''Do you mean he was born out of wedlock or do you mean he is not a nice person.''

''Both. My father has no idea who his father is, and his mother was a prostitute in St Petersberg. He was put into an orphanage and eventually rose to be where he is today. I don't know how many bones he's broken on the way up, but make no mistake, he is the most brutal of men.''

''Are you scared of him?'' Octavia asked sympathetically.

''Yes a little. He is quite capable of killing his
own
son if the moods
takes
him.''

''Surely you don't mean that? Slava that can't be true?''

''Well, I wouldn't bet
against
it. He always gets what he wants, and nobody stands in his way.''

''And how does your mother put up with this kind of man?''

''She always says yes to him. He's beaten her black and blue too many times for daring to defy him.''

''That's awful. For you both. Have you ever seen him hitting her?''

''Yes.''

*****

Octavia looked at the doctor's face. When he nodded to her, she burst into tears.
She
been waiting for the test result in a small room in Washington's most expensive private hospital. A nurse came and offered her
an handkerchief,
she took it gratefully and blew her nose.

''Miss
Whalberg
, your car has arrived,'' said the hospital manager. He'd
been assigned
the job of looking after the President's daughter during her short stay.

Octavia
didn't want to see her parents, so she had the driver drop her off at Harvard, where she went into her room, closed the door and curled up on the bed. When her sobs stopped, she fell asleep. When she woke, she turned on Skype.

''Hello sweetie,'' Slava said. ''Do you know what time it is here? It's...''

''Slava I've got some
very bad
news,'' she said stopping him in his tracks. ''I don't know how to tell you
this,
but I'm pregnant.''

Slava wasn't quite sure he'd heard correctly. ''You're what?''

''Pregnant,'' she sobbed.

''That's great, no it's more than great, it's the best thing ever.''

Octavia was surprised. She'd thought he would be angry and afraid of what it might do to his future. ''Are you sure you're okay with it.''

''Okay? That's a useless word to use under these circumstances. If I
weren't
thousands of miles
away,
I'd crack open a bottle of champagne.
Oh, Octavia,
this is fantastic news.''

''I'm amazed you are so happy. I thought you would be angry and worried about the future.''

''Why? There is nothing I want more than to have you as the mother of my children. You will be a perfect mother. Just one
thing,
though. We should keep it secret from my father.''

''Okay. But what are we going to do? I'm the President's
daughter;
I can't be pregnant and unmarried. It simply isn't an option.''

''Sod it. You're not happy at
Harvard,
and I'm not happy in Moscow without you. I have dreamed
about
doing this with you. Let's take my boat and sail away. I have more money than we'll ever be able to use in our
lives
and a great place to live. My yacht. You can write books while I sail us around. I can design
yachts
and sell the
designs
via the web. What do you say?''

Slava looked at his computer screen as Octavia fell silent. After two minutes, she responded. ''There will be hell to pay. If I elope with you, my father will be crucified by the press, and he will suffer in the opinion polls. He will send the
FBI,
and
lord
only knows who else to find me.''

''Octavia, you are a grown woman living in a free world. Nobody can drag you back to the US against your will. We won't be committing a crime. It's not eighteen hundred.''

*****

''Yes what is it?'' the Ambassador barked as a small fat man entered his office. The Ambassador's office was not as large as he believed his position deserved. His desk
was covered
in
photos of him in various posts he'd been sent to over the years, and there was a Russian flag standing on a pole to the right of his desk.

''Ambassador, it's your son. I have just received notice from the Federal Security Service that he was seen leaving St Petersberg in his boat two days ago.''

''Where was he going?''

''Nobody knows.''

''And I suppose the buffoons don't know where he is now, either?''

''That is correct sir. There is one more piece of information. He was with a woman.''

''What woman, he doesn't have a girlfriend as far as I know. He's too busy trying to finish his studies.''

''The girl's name is Octavia Wahlberg.''

''What? That black girl that calls herself the President's daughter?''

''Yes sir.''

''Get me General Toporov now.''

The man nodded and left the office. Five minutes later the Ambassador's phone rang. It was General
Vladimir
Topov
, head of the Russian Security Service.

''You wanted to speak to
me,
Ambassador?''

''Yes General. I want you to find my son and bring him back to finish his studies, and then I want you to deal with the woman he has seemingly gone
off with
. Eliminate her if you have to. Do you understand? There is no way my son will marry an American, let alone a Black American. I don't want her having his children. She' behaves like a prostitute. I hate
prostitutes;
they are dirty. ''

''Ambassador, the woman to whom you refer, is the President's daughter. We can't do anything about her and your son being together. It's a free world, and they are both consenting adults.''

''Have you forgotten what happened in Moscow in 1991? If you have, then perhaps I should get it put in the newspapers so everybody can read what an unpleasant character you are. Don't you remember those poor girls? They were just innocent students having a good time. When you'd finished raping them, they couldn't walk anymore.
Now,
what do you say to my request?''

''I will do what I can,'' the General said.

When his phone rang
again,
the Ambassador swore.
This time,
it was the President, Daniel Wahlberg.

''Ambassador, my daughter has given her security agent the slip and has been picked up by your son in a boat in Tallinn, Estonia. I will hold you personally responsible for anything that happens to her. I want you to contact your son and tell him to let her come home.
Se has
her studies to think of.''

''
Mr.
President, I have no contact with my son. At the moment, I have no idea where he is.'' The Ambassador sighed as if he was already bored with the news. ''No doubt your daughter has led him astray. Much has been written about her, and not much of it good. She likes to, how shall I say it, put herself about a bit.''

''If you are suggesting my daughter had anything to do with this, you are sorely mistaken. Now get her back here or I will call your President and have you sent back to Moscow.''

''
Mr.
President, nobody threatens me. Even the
so called
most powerful man in the world. Be careful what you say. As I understand it, you daughter is in a very vulnerable situation at the moment.''

*****

Slava looked out of the bridge window, as he maneuvered his boat out of the harbor in Tallinn. He looked at
Octavia
and knew he would love her forever. He would tell her when they reached London.

His boat was a
sixty-five
feet luxury yacht called Serene. It had five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a
siting
room and a dining
room
. When servants were on board, they brought the food from the galley to the dining room in the elevator. The bridge where Slava and Octavia were sitting was full of all the latest gadgets.

''So tell me all about what happened?'' he asked.

''It was quite surreal actually. I told my bodyguard I was going to spend the night with a friend. The security team
has
waited
outside friend's houses before while I've stayed the night,
and, this time,
was no exception,'' Octavia took great pleasure in relating the story of her escape and Slava could see it in her face. ''All I did was go
into
my friend's
house
and get out via a toilet window. I got a taxi to the airport, and flew here.''

''No questions asked?''

''No, a few people recognized me, but
no body
of any importance who could have stopped me.''

''Have I told you, how beautiful you are?''

''Lots of times. But make the most of it. I'll soon have an enormous
belly
and you won't want to come near me.''

''You're wrong there.
You'll be so sexy; I won't be able to keep my hands off you.''

''Where are we going first? I mean we have the whole world to go at,'' Octavia asked.

''I have a surprise for my budding writer. All I'm saying is that we're going to London.''

''Not England, it rains all the time. Can't you take me somewhere warm.''

''Just,
believe me, you'll enjoy yourself there.''

''Alright, I'll bow to your superior knowledge. Now can the Captain's assistant get a kiss?''

''And who will you write your first novel about?''

''About a man who is good looking and charming and who any woman could love without fear.''

''Me?''

''Of course, someone like you,'' she laughed.

When the boat pulled into the Thames Estuary, Slava was weary. Octavia had gone to bed some three hours earlier, but he was determined to make it to Milby Marina in London, before dawn. In the dark,
one of
the busiest rivers in the
world
is a
tricky
place to navigate, and despite
fatigue,
Slava kept his concentration.

Two hours later, the Yacht was safely tied to the dock in London's most exclusive harbor. Slava climbed out of the captain's chair and went
on deck
to get some fresh air. He was disappointed to see that his yacht wasn't the biggest there. He consoled himself with the feeling it
was, at least,
the third
biggest
in one of the
world’s
richest cities.

The fresh air did him
good
and he was soon ready to sleep. He hadn't had much time to think about what he and Octavia had done, but he
was convinced
they had done the right thing. In the bedroom, he quickly undressed. When
he
slipped into bed, he cuddled up to
Octavia,
who let out a little hello and promptly fell asleep again. When Slava put his hand on her swollen
belly,
he knew everything was going to be
alright,
and he drifted into a deep sleep.