Chapter 18 Chapter 18 Christmas
Sergey and I are on the couch, fucking again. It’s Christmas morning, and this past week has been insane. We’ve barely left my apartment—just sex, ordering food, and ignoring our phones. I didn’t want to do anything for Christmas, but he insisted. We made it out one day to get a tree—a real one—and some lights. We even split up for a few hours to get presents for each other.
A cold breeze rushes over my skin, raising goosebumps. Sergey pulls the cashmere blanket over us as I grind on him. The fireplace glows, the patio doors are open, and the sheer curtains sway with the wind. The tree lights cast a soft, dim glow. The floor is covered in wrapping paper.
He pushes me back until my spine presses against his knees. One hand grips my hips, the other moves over my chest as he thrusts into me.
The pressure builds fast. The Rolex I got him rests against my stomach, cold like an ice cube. My head falls back as my orgasm breaks free. Sergey curses under his breath, losing control as he follows.
The diamonds around my neck feel heavy—I don’t even want to think about how much he spent.
He pulls me upright, and suddenly I hear the door unlock.
It’s 5 a.m.
Who the fuck—
And then I remember.
Gemma.
We are supposed to be heading to the cabin—her dad’s “cabin,” which is really a massive mansion built into the mountain. It’s big enough to be a hotel. We’ve spent every Christmas there since I became friends with her.
There are voices outside the door. A lot of them.
Sergey and I scramble, trying to cover up.
“I told you, Alek, they are fucking! I bet you two haven’t even left the apartment!” Gemma’s voice cuts through as she storms in with Alek. “Maybe answer your damn phone! Where are we supposed to be today?” she snaps, slamming the door behind her while everyone else lingers outside.
Alek drops onto the couch beside us, grinning.
“We did leave!” Sergey says, smiling.
“Did we interrupt?” Alek asks, trying to pull the blanket away for a better look.
Sergey shoves him back. “No!” Then his eyes flick to me. “Take the blanket with you when you get up.”
I manage to stand, wrapping the blanket tightly around me. Sergey stays where he is—legs spread, still hard.
Gemma glances over at him, her eyebrows lifting. “God damn it. I can’t even be mad anymore.” She holds out her hand.
I know exactly what she wants.
I didn’t forget.
I walk to my purse on the kitchen island, pull out my wallet, and count out a thousand dollars. She watches me like I’ve lost my mind. Sergey and Alek both look completely confused.
He said “I love you” ten fucking times the first night we slept together.
I slap the money into her hand, and I feel it—my expression softening. There’s no hiding it anymore.
I really like him.
Is it love?
I don’t even know what that is. I don’t think I’ve ever truly felt it before.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Elena?” Gemma’s voice rises, not quite yelling, but close. “Yes, I was right, but what the fuck are you thinking? I’ve seen that look before.”
The last time I liked someone this much… I spent a week crying after it ended. I promised her I wouldn’t do that again.
And here I am.
In way too deep.
It’s just dick. It has to be.
But I can’t get enough of him. I want him constantly.
Sergey watches us as Gemma keeps going. I lick my lips without thinking, and he smiles. Alek nudges him, and Gemma catches it, rolling her eyes.
Knocking starts pounding on the door.
“Just let them in,” I say. Then I turn back. “Sergey, we need to get dressed.” I hold my hand out to him.
The rest of the girls come in, the guys right behind them. Sergey slips behind me just in time to avoid giving the guys a full show—but Tish and Erika definitely saw.
His arms wrap around me from behind.
He’s still hard.
Sergey goes the distance. Every time. I’ve already had to tell him to stop before, just so I can catch a break.
It does wonders for your confidence.
I smile, and we start backing toward my bedroom together. The second we step inside, I drop the blanket—and we both burst out laughing.
He cups my face and kisses me.
I take the diamonds off and set them carefully in my closet. We start getting dressed, both a little unsteady—we’ve had a few shots.
One of my gifts to him was a bottle of my grandfather’s rakia. It’s a Balkan brandy—most people make it at home, but my grandfather actually processes and distributes it. His is the best.
At 50% alcohol, it doesn’t take much to hit you.
I giggle as Sergey struggles with his jeans.
“How did you know my size?” he asks, since I picked these clothes up before bringing him here.
“I’m good like that,” I laugh, running my hands over his bare chest.
He pulls the sweater over his head, then stops, looking at me.
Both of our eyes are a little glassy. I blame the early morning drinking.
Sergey steps closer and lifts me into his arms. His lips crash into mine, tongue sliding deep. I bite gently at his lips, staying wrapped around him like time doesn’t exist.
My hands move through his hair, pulling him closer. My heart is racing.
And then it hits me.
I love him.
Fuck.
This is so bad.
Gemma bursts through my bedroom door. “Damn it! I told you, Alek—they can’t be left alone!”
She drags me out of the closet and back into the living room. I slip on my shoes, grab my jacket and bag. Sergey follows right behind us.
“What’s with the matching outfits?” Vincent asks, pointing at us.
We look at each other—and start laughing again.
Sergey steps in and kisses me like he can’t help himself.
“Are you guys drunk?” Tish asks.
“They’re like fucking magnets,” Nick says as Gemma and Alek try to pull us apart—and we end up right back together anyway.
Alek mutters something in Russian, grabbing the bottle of rakia. “They are drunk,” he says, shaking his head. “They drank half the bottle.”