BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5) (17 page)

Irina

“Explain.”

The second glass I drink is more of a frat-boy chug, and I pour myself a third before meeting her eyes and sighing. I’m not as embarrassed anymore.

“A week after we got married, I came home a little earlier than usual. I wanted to cook dinner and bake him some of that apple pie you told me he likes so much. Maybe spend some time…”

My pause and the blush I feel staining my cheeks makes her giggle and I laugh a little, too, feeling loose and floppy as I lean my head back into the sofa and swallow.

“Hanky-panky? When the lights aren’t off, Irina? For shame.” She laughs, making me splutter. “My Kosta and I are the same. We still go at each other like…what you call it? Minks?
Da
, we still—”

“Mama!”

“What? You tink I got tree boys and one geerl from just calling stork?” she says, her accent thickening with every word.

I find myself screaming with laughter just as the door bursts open and three very inquisitive faces pop into view.

“It sounds like a cackling contest in here. You having fun without us, babe? ”Nik asks, strutting in and wearing her usual pencil skirt and silk blouse.

The other two follow her in. Nik and Liza go for the kitchen while Tat groans and grimaces at us, her face a nasty shade of green.

“Before you go nuts on me about the shop, we sold out all the stuff your Stalin-ish chef baked and posted a sign on the door. I almost upchucked on three customers when she decided to try pushing some savory piece of drivel that used to be spinach and cheese but looked like dog vomit. No one bought it and I just—”

“We closed early since another customer complained about Stalin’s baking and demanded your phone number. I’m not going back to that hellhole till you’re back, Ri, and that’s fucking final. They’ll form a lynch mob soon, and I ain’t into being forked by anything that isn’t a dick with a bad attitude attached,” Liza grumps, banging a bottle of Jack down, along with four glasses and a ginger ale and crackers for Tat.

“Fine.”

“Whatcha ladies talking about then?”

The look I get from Mama makes me crack up for no good reason as she just shakes her head and winks at me.

“Misha. My son is an asshole. I love him but…finish what you were saying, Ri. I need to know, and…well, the girls are already family, so whatever we say, I know it will stay with just us.”

“I came home and walked in on him trying to tongue-screw that woman. And I mean it, Mama. They were having a good go at making a baby without their sex parts.”

“Thees I know. My Leo, he a good boy, he tell Mama everyting. I almost castrate my own son when I hear,” she says prosaically, making us all spit booze before Nik starts laughing so hard, she snorts.

“I love you, old lady.” Nik grins, making Mama scowl.

“I no old, just have more birthdays, leetle geerl. Now hush. Tell me, Ri.”

“Okay. Well, I mean I sorta lost it there for a while. I left and ignored his calls and stuff, and I think I was doing real good till he showed up. Seems one of my best friends,” I glare at Nik, “shot her mouth off about a pregnancy scare, and your boy thought he could get me back that way.”

“Bebe?”

“Calm down, Attila. I wasn’t pregnant, just sick. You know that. Anyhow, we got to talking and he told me about that filled-lip blowfish and the shit she pulled on him.”

“Hate dat geerl.”

Oh, me too, Mama.

“I thought I could forgive him. I mean, he opened up a little and let me in, so that means he must want to really build something with me, right?”

I snort, finishing off glass three and thanking Mama when she leans over to pour the fourth.

“Turns out I’m just an asshole who loves an idiot. She showed up here yesterday looking for him, or me, who the hell knows, and things went bad from there. I was in a little bit of a spiral after that and sort of lost track of time. Didn’t even hear the phone till security almost reamed my ass for not answering, and then the dark prince, himself, showed up and almost killed me by shaking me so hard. Oh, and then he pretended it never happened, screwed my brains out, and went off to work this morning like the pig he is.”

Boy, I like wine. Why haven’t I gotten shitfaced more often?

Four loud sighs join mine and then I hear Mama
tsk
.

“He’s like this since Minka. Poor boy, I thought for while he will die of the pain, you know, but Leo and Vadi manage to get him back on his feet. He spend years just using women and not loving nothing, but he have heart, yes. He need happiness. Then he find you and he smile again.”

“Awww,” my girls say in unison, and I narrow my eyes at them all before joining in.

“What happened?”

“She get sick, very sick with the pneumonia, and go to hospital. Misha spend every day with her, holding her hand. She was two, so small. So fragile, but so loved. That boy love her so much. Then one day he go home for one hour, just to bathe and dress fresh, and when he go back…they tell him she pass away in her sleep. Mina, that evil woman, she took our little one and have her cremated immediately. My Misha, he never get chance to even say good-bye.”

I can’t imagine the pain he must have felt when he got to that hospital room and realized his child was gone. I would have collapsed and stayed down for the count. Mentally and physically broken.

The fact that Misha survived that loss and came back from it is a miracle, and it makes me love him all the more for the man he is now. He is, by no means, a prince or anything, but he is strong. He has to be to even look at another woman and feel any affection. He cares for me, in some way. He’s gentle and sweet and funny and he almost went crazy when he thought I was dead.

Shit…I can’t think straight right now.

“Fuck,” Nik breathes and we all nod, wide eyed as Mama blinks and shakes her head.

“Mish, he go a little crazy after that. He no want to eat or sleep. He no talk. Just…nothing. It take Leo months to shame him into trying to live. But he never the same again. He laugh, but only a little. He love his family, but only so much. He have sex with women, but never want another one again. Mina, he loved her and she broke him, Irina. Wouldn’t even comfort him after Minka…”

I want to track her down and rip her throat out for what she made him suffer. I want to scratch her face off and choke the life out of her.

“She said it was his fault. That he killed…” I can’t even finish the statement as tears clog my throat and make talking difficult.

              I keep drinking as we all fall into silence.

Misha

“Dammit.”

I stop the minute I walk into my home and feel my balls shrink when five sets of female eyes turn my way and they all start laughing, looking at my crotch the way a scientist looks at bugs under a microscope.

“I told ya. See? Like a horse,” Irina trills, laughing so hard I hear her snort.

The coffee table is littered with enough wine and booze bottles to make the place reek, and my mama, my sweet innocent mama, is looking at my crotch with the precision of a surgeon. Though she’s so toasted, she can barely keep her head up.

“I change diapers. I know. Like Papa. All man.”

The laughter starts again, the noise so loud that I feel Leo bump into me before he starts laughing and shakes his head. The humor lasts all of two seconds when he spots Tatiana and shoves me out of the way.

“You’ve been drinking? Jesus, Tatty, you can’t—”

“Calm down, Leo, I’m on juice and ginger ale.”

Apparently that answer isn’t good enough, because she’s in his arms and being hustled out moments later.

“You’re white as a sheet. You need to eat and rest! Say good-bye.”

“But we were having fun. I wanna stay and talk some more. We were just getting to the good parts. Ri is really descriptive about…”

The rest is lost when he just tosses a greeting over his shoulder and walks out with Tatty still arguing.

“Vadim, call the car service to get Mama and the girls home, please.”

“Shit, I don’t wanna ride home with her in that state. Last time she kept trying to tell me how Papa’s blood pressure medication affects his dick. It’s not something you can ever un-hear, Mish.” He shudders, going pale when Mama and Nik start whispering and laughing like loons.

My lips twitch and I just about piss myself when he finally gathers them all up. Nik is so drunk that she’s slung over his shoulder since she can’t walk for shit, and he storms past me, swearing retribution.

“You look loose,” I muse, feeling my dick go steel hard when Irina rolls her head to grin at me.

“Hmm, I feel like jelly, but all that sex talk…geesh. I swear your mother is a crazy woman. She outdrank us all under the table, and boy, I will never look at your dad the same way again.”

“Gross, angel. Stop talking about my parents and sex or this boner I’ll have will definitely deflate,” I warn, stalking closer.

I can’t say whether it’s normal or what, but I can smell my woman when she’s needy, like some sort of damn animal, and the scent makes me feel crazed to get to her.

“Can’t have that, huh?”

Definitely not
, I think as I sweep her up and take the stairs at a run, not stopping till she’s on the bed and naked beneath me, my body trembling when her satin-soft skin touches mine and I see her breasts quiver.

She’s so small beneath me, so fragile that just touching her makes me shake with fear and need. I love everything about her. Her breasts that are just the right size, nipples that tastes so sweet I could come just sucking them for hours, and her sex, that pink slice of heaven that somehow makes me feel secure.

              “I got ya now, angel,” I purr, gritting my teeth when she opens her thighs and throws her hands over her head, submitting to me in every way.

I’ve never been that interested in women being submissive in the bedroom, and hell, I really love it when Irina comes at me like a sex-starved wild woman sometimes, but seeing her spread out and at my mercy makes my dick so hard, I feel my pulse pounding there as pre-cum leaks from the tip.

              She almost screams her head off when I settle myself between her legs, hook my hands around her upper thighs and open her fully, my mouth opening wide over her flesh and sucking strongly.

She tastes good as her juices flood out and meet my tongue. It’s so good, so right to feel her beneath me this way, ready and needy, that I lose it a little and eat her till she’s sobbing her release. Even then I can’t stop, my mouth attacking her clit, sucking, flicking my tongue over the stiff bundle as she comes again, her thighs gripping my cheeks so strongly, I feel my ears pop.

My woman is a wild one, a lusty, screaming courtesan, and I bask in her sensuality even as I’m forced to rub myself against the sheets to stop from howling in pain.

I’m hard, aching, desperate, and out of my mind by the time I rear up and pull her onto me, entering her on one sure thrust that has my toes curling in ecstasy.

Tight, wet, scorching softness sucks me in, and I peer down at the place we’re joined, shaking my head to clear the lust as I pull out and throttle back in, loving her cries.

“Tight. Christ, you’re so tight and wet. I feel you soaking my skin. Love it, angel. I want you all over me, marking me.” I grunt, thrusting harder, faster, almost blind and deaf to anything but the feel of her snug heat tightening around me, signalling her impending release.

So good, so fucking good. I want to kiss her as I come, taste her passion and feed her mine as we both lose control and the scorching heat of her sex sucks my cum, but she does what she always does—what drives me blind with rage. She turns her lips into my neck to muffle her screams.

I keep thrusting even when she’s whimpering, too sensitive to take more from me. I want her to feel it, know that it’s me she’s addicted to, me who can fuck her through her twitching, gasping pain and shoot her straight to the stars again.

When I’m in this mood I can screw forever without coming, so I do. I keep thrusting, my sweat pouring, coating us both, making us slip and glide as I pound into her, taking her to her second and third orgasms before releasing my hold and jackhammering into her as I release, roaring my pleasure as I come so much, I feel it gush between us with every last thrust before I still and fall to the bed over her.

Our breaths are harsh, choppy, and agonized for several strained minutes before I pull away and practically run from the room.

I just came in her.

Irina

“I hate men!”

The yell is satisfying as I wince and drop my throbbing head to the table before me. I’m hungover and my belly’s been roiling since I woke up this morning.

Alone.

Crying in my sleep.

Men!

“Calm down, honey. If not for you, then for us. Please. I want to die,” Nik whispers as I force myself up again and grab another cookie from the cooling sheet with a curse.

I’m at work to get through my temper tantrum, and I realize, without much pleasure, that the only reason I’ve been set free from the mighty tower of His Royal Highness, is that he’s too damn afraid to come near me to refuse.

“He ran out as if the hounds of hell were on his ass. I mean, seriously, I was drunk but not that drunk that I didn’t feel like a total whore when he pulled out and lit out of there,” I yell again, hating the stupid tears that keep threatening to spill down my cheeks.

Work, for once in my life, sucks balls. I’ve never once come in and not wanted to lose myself in the monotonous heaven that is my sugar-filled studio—yes, I consider myself an artist when it comes to my job.

It’s not working today, and not because I feel like I’m about to pass out and choke to death in a puddle of my own puke, either, but because my damned feelings are hurt.

“Maybe he forgot to do something,” Nik offers, groaning at the sound of the bell.

“Forgot something! The only damn thing he forgot was that I’m his wife, not some two-bit hooker,” I yell again, crushing a cookie when my fist snaps shut of its own volition.

I’m so mad and humiliated right now. It takes me a full minute to realize that Nik’s not groaning anymore and the sounds I hear are quiet sniffles.

“Nik?”

The sniffling gets louder and she lifts her head—her uncharacteristically disheveled head—and her face crumples.

“Oh, honey. What’s wrong?”

I cringe when I hug her closer and she wipes her snot all over my shirt, the slimy mess soaking in to hit my skin.

“I am. I’m a-a two-bit…” she wails, my wince going unnoticed when she pulls me closer and sobs more.

“Oh, honey, no.”

“Yes, I-I am. Vadi does that to me all the time, and I keep spreading anyway. I mean,” she sniffs loudly and pulls away, shuddering as she wipes her nose on her wrinkled sleeve, “he comes over, screws me, pulls out immediately, and showers before hotfooting it home. Every time he does it I keep swearing it will be the last, and then…”

Oh shit. Her face scrunches before she just crumples all over the flour-strewn surface. She’s so upset, I don’t even say a darn thing about germs or the fact that we just lost a whole batch of perfectly good cookies to her snot party.

When Stalin opens her mouth I glare her into submission before turning back to stroke Nik’s back.

“Nik, hun, you don’t have to accept that if it’s not what you want.”

“I love the idiot, Irina. I mean really love him. Like I let him come in me without a condom kind of love.”

Oh hell.

Have I mentioned that Nik is the epitome of perfect at all times? Well she is. Never a hair out of place, perfect makeup, clothes looking like they just came off the hanger.

And the woman has a serious dislike for sharing bodily fluids. She once told me that a man complained about going down on her and only getting to do her.

She remedied that by giving him a blowjob that made his eyes cross. With a condom on.

The fact that Nik lets Vadi…come in her?

“I’m…shit, what the heck am I supposed to say here, babe? I’m in the same freaking boat. The only difference is I’ve got a rock and you don’t,” I mutter, throwing the cookie crumbs at the table with a snarl.

They miss completely, instead falling to the floor in the exact spot I was stabbed, the reminder making my blood go cold.

“But you’re not. That’s the problem. Misha may be a total ass sometimes, and I get that, don’t think I don’t, but he wants more with you, Ri. You talk, you spend time together, and you laugh together. All I get when we’re not in the safety of company is a hard fuck and the brushoff. He never stays, never once held me. I feel…”

“Cheap. I get it, Nik. My advice, what I don’t have the strength to do, is tell him to take a hike. Now I know it sucks ‘cause I am so not following my own advice, either, but it’s the right advice. The next time he calls you or comes at you, tell him you want more or nothing.”

I should know. I want more, too, and all I get is a man who smothers me one minute and leaves me cold the next. And here I thought his refusal to share was the worst thing he could ever do to me.

Huh! I was wrong, I think, as Nik sits silently while I attack a ball of dough with my fists and pent-up rage. What the hell is wrong with the Novac men?

That’s not fair, though, is it? I mean look at Leo. The guy is crazy for Tat, a woman carrying another man’s child. All he has left to do at this point is marry the woman.

He loves her, wants her, and is willing to kill Luka to get him out of the way.

“God, I feel like hell.”

“You should. You’re carrying demon spawn,” I mutter, still not in the least impressed with Luka as Tat trudges in while a chirpy Eliza chats with a customer, laughing her head off.

“Shut your filthy mouth, you sexy slag. My baby isn’t spawn. And you two look like hell. What did they do?”

“Vadim screws Nik, pulls out, showers and leaves.”

“Misha almost broke his ass running out of the bedroom after he tried to hose down Ri’s insides with his big, thick—”

Stalin snorts and chokes out a laugh before howling and dropping her head to peer at us. With that smile on her face, she’s smoking hot and we all gasp.

“Jesus, Stalin, you’re a fox.”

Oh, Tatiana, you have a gift for understatement.

“My name is Angelica. And I know.” She smirks, leaning over to close my mouth with one delicate finger.

“But you’re supposed to be ugly. Meanies are ugly,” I squeak, just barely stopping myself from going over to hump her leg like an animal.

Her eyes are the most startling dark shade of blue I have ever seen, making them appear almost purple, and her coal-black hair is rich and glossy, even in a matronly bun.

Add to that the fact that her lips are Angelina pout worthy and her face could make angels weep. And I’m pretty sure I just came out of the closet.

“Wow, okay, just wow,” I say when she rolls her eyes and starts cleaning up the cookies with a frown before dragging the others closer.

“Where the…how the…why are you so hot?!” Tat yells.

“Thank my daddy’s nuts and my mama’s old coochie, ladies. Now, I’ve been listening to you all commiserate about alcohol, men, and the lack of good batteries all freaking morning, and quite frankly I am sick and tired of that shit. If you’re tired of being treated like you’re garbage, don’t wallow in the dumpster, ladies.”

Okay, that makes sense. Except…

“You calling my husband a dumpster, hottie? Because if you are, I am seriously rethinking seducing you and giving you the night of your life.”

They all laugh at me as if I’m not half serious, and Angelica shakes her head.

“No, I’m saying you all have allowed your lives to become garbage.
Garbage.
The smelly stuff. Men are pretty simple. They require so little, really. Food, a good home, laughter, and a freak in the bedroom. All that aside, they need security. Now don’t shake your heads at me, I’m married to a man who owns a freaking bondage club and I know this shit.”

Floor, meet jaw.

“Bondage club?” I say.

“Yup. He’s not, like, into it or anything, don’t go looking at me as if you think I’d let that man collar me. It’s just business, but my guy is very….in tune with his emotions and he told me three things when we got married. ‘Never play with my dick without finishing,’ self- explanatory. ‘Never touch the remote when I’m watching football,’ and last but definitely not least, ‘Never make me feel like I’m not a man.’ Simply put, he told me that while he enjoys and loves my independence, he also really just needs to be the man in our marriage. He wants to care for me when I’m sick, take care of the bills, and be the one who protects me. It’s not quite that basic, but you get the idea. Now, Ri, you got attacked and almost died recently—sorry by the way, that really bummed me out. Word is your guy held your dying ass in his arms?”

I nod silently and blink when she grimaces.

“That must have killed him. Not only could he not protect you, he also had to watch you dying, helpless to do a thing. That’s gotta have really fucked him up. Big time. When I told John, he tried to get me to quit working here.”

“No!” I gasp. “I only just found you. Don’t break up with me when I have my first lesbian crush.”

“Honey,” she laughs, her eyes twinkling. “I love my husband too much to ever cheat on him, no matter how fine your bubble butt is. Back on point, though. John was pretty vocal about you insisting on coming back here. Apparently Misha will feel threatened, irrationally protective, and downright murderous. See, he feels like he’ll lose you again, and men, they do not deal well with emotional overload apparently. John explains it better, but he said you need to make Misha feel secure.”

I know exactly why the man feels adrift and with all the guns he has on my ass, protecting me twenty-four seven, it’s not just about me returning to work.

It’s about the damn kissing.

“Er, I don’t think it’s the whole safety thing that’s got his dick in a twist,” I finally admit, looking anywhere but at her as guilt sets in.

Misha is one of those true hedonists, and I mean real, dirty hedonism when I say that. The man has no boundaries when it comes to sex.

H touches, licks, sucks, and bangs every part of me he can get to, and don’t even get me started on his excitement about my period. I think it’s pretty gross, but the man says true intimacy allows for everything, without embarrassment or hang-ups.

“Spill.”

“Ahem, I think it may be because I won’t let him…”

“Screw you.”

“Please do not tell me you’re one of those women who don’t like oral sex.”

“Tap your back hole? Don’t sweat it, sister. I find that ewskie too.”

“Kiss me,” I grit out, blushing at the naughtiness of some of my memories.

They all stare at me before Tatiana gasps and starts huffing.

“Why the heck not?”

“You remember he kissed his ex skank, right?”

“Uh yeah, you won’t let a day go by without mentioning it, Ri.”

She’s right. I guess I am still kind of bitter about that.

“That’s harsh. You went back to him, Ri. You’re supposed to forgive him and get over it, not use it against him like some sort of weapon. Either let it go or move on, but don’t punish him forever. A man is territorial. He’ll want everything or he’ll start resenting you,” Angelica says softly.

“Easy for you to say! You did not walk in on your husband Frenching a sea hag.”

“Nope, I walked in on my husband whipping some woman in his club one night when they were doing a scene. Trust me, that’s worse. It took me a while to stop hating him, but I made the choice to do it because I love him and he swore to me it meant nothing. I let it go and made him swear never to do anything like that again. He did, and I trust him because I need to. Did Misha say anything?”

“Just that she kissed him and he had a brief moment of ‘error,’” I sneer.

“Error.” What a douche.

“It’s up to you to let it go or move on. Make a choice, but you know you can’t keep this up. As for the whole vaulting out of bed after sex thing, I heard you and Tat on speakerphone a few days ago. I thought you guys were using protection?”

              “Bingo.” They all trill as my eyes widen and I look down at my belly in horror.