Curves and the Russian Wrangler (BBW Romance - Coldwater Springs 6) (5 page)

“Amber?” His shout was edged with concern. He hoped nothing had happened to her. Cursing himself for letting her go on ahead, he hurried over the rough ground, his gaze searching the surrounding trees and bushes.

“..hail.”

He paused. Was that a faint cry? Mikhail stilled, every muscle tensing, waiting to hear the sound again.

“Mikhail.” Amber’s voice was faint but definitely recognizable.

“Amber!” He hiked toward the sound of her voice.

She called out again, sounding closer this time. He strode through the woods, intent on reaching her as quickly as he could.

***

Amber breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Mikhail heading toward her. Everything would be all right now.

“Are you okay?” He squatted in front of her, cupping her face in his hands, his gaze searching her face.

“I am now.” She smiled shakily. “But I’m not sure about my ankle.”

He followed her glance to her swollen left ankle. “Let me see. I studied first aid last year.” His strong, tanned fingers carefully probed the tender flesh, but he didn’t miss her wince. “I think you have a mild sprain.”

She nodded. “I’m just glad I haven’t broken it.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” He frowned in concern.

“I left my phone at the house,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose.

“Lapushka.”

Mikhail wrapped her in his arms, and she nestled against his strong chest, breathing in his scent of subtle spicy cologne and hay. Although she wasn’t sure what the exact translation of
lapushka
was, from the way he held her, she thought it might be similar to sweetheart. Warmth blossomed inside her.

When he finally pulled back, he asked in a thick voice, “Can you walk?”

“I can hobble.” She tried to smile. “You must think I’m a real klutz. First I nearly fell over in the street and you caught me, and now I’ve fallen over this log because I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m not usually clumsy like this.”

“Those boys were not paying attention.” He shook his head. “I was probably the same at their age. I’m just glad I was there to help you.”

“So am I.” She inhaled shakily. When he looked at her like that, like she was the most precious thing in the world, her knees turned to jelly.

“Did you find your bracelet?”

“Yes.” Amber drew out the bracelet from her pocket and showed it to him. “It was over there.” She gestured to the clump of orange wildflowers nearby.

“Good. I shall take you back to the house and you can rest your ankle.”

She put the bracelet back in her pocket, checking it was secure, then stood, her hand grasping Mikhail’s shoulder for support.

“Hold on to me,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her, and lifting her against his chest.

“Mikhail!” she squeaked, clutching his firm, broad shoulders. “What are you doing? You can’t carry me.”

“Of course I can,” he chided her gently, taking long strides away from the log.

Amber hid her face against his chest, the firm muscles feeling solid and reassuring through his cotton shirt.
She would be too heavy for him
. A blush of embarrassment rose to her cheeks. Any moment now, he would put her down and announce that they would walk back to the farmhouse after all. But his stride never lessened, and after a couple of minutes, her tense muscles relaxed. She loosened her death grip on his shoulders and sighed softly. It was wonderful to be carried in his arms, although she wished it were under happier circumstances.

Once they reached the house, Mikhail gently put her down, one arm remaining around her waist.

“Sit.” He guided her to a wooden kitchen chair.

She sat down and made a face as she looked at her ankle. Mikhail squatted down in front of her and took off her shoes and socks.

“How does it feel now?” He lightly touched the ligament.

Sucking in a breath, she considered his question. “I don’t think it’s hurting nearly as much.”

“Good. You will need an icepack.” Mikhail rummaged in the freezer and withdrew a small icepack. At her inquiring gaze, he said, “I have learned it’s good to have one on hand.”

After attending to her ankle, he picked her up once more.

“Mikhail!” This time she was pleased her voice didn’t sound squeaky, but she frowned in puzzlement. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re comfortable.” He carried her to the living room, which boasted cream walls, dark leather furniture and a large-screen TV, gently placing her on the three-seater leather couch. She lay lengthwise across the sofa, her back against the armrest at one end. Grabbing a cushion, he placed it behind her. “There.”

“Thank you.” Her heart flip-flopped. She didn’t think her sparse couple of boyfriends in the past had ever been so concerned for her welfare - or for her. Not for the first time, she silently thanked those two small boys for crashing into her. If they hadn’t, she mightn’t be here right now with Mikhail, even if it did include a sprained ankle.

“Be right back,” he promised, returning to the kitchen. A minute later, he re-appeared with two glasses of iced tea. “Or would you prefer some wine?” he arched an eyebrow in inquiry.

She glanced at the metallic clock on the wall and shook her head. Although she felt as if she’d been out in the woods forever, it was only three-thirty.

“This is fine.” Suddenly feeling shy, she took the glass from him, careful not to let her fingers touch his. A small trickle of condensation dripped down the side of the glass and onto her palm. Taking a sip of the cold beverage, she glanced over at him. Since she was lying on the sofa, her back propped up against one end with the soft cushion behind her, there was nowhere for him to sit, unless he took the matching armchair nearby.

He surprised her by dragging the brown leather ottoman from near the armchair and sitting down on it in front of the sofa
.
After taking a long swallow of his drink, he put down the glass on a nearby walnut coffee table.

“I’m just glad you are okay, apart from your ankle.” He smiled ruefully, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb across her palm.

“Me too,” she breathed, clutching her glass. Her lower body quivered, the soft stroking of his thumb stirring her desire. “Thank you … for rescuing me.”

“My pleasure.” Heat flared in his dark brown eyes.

She shivered with longing, wishing that she hadn’t been so clumsy. If she hadn’t, perhaps their walk in the woods would have had a hotter
ending, like Mikhail taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately.

But he had carried her all the way to the farmhouse. She’d been terrified that she would have been too heavy for him, but his stride hadn’t faltered once. And the way he was looking at her now, like he wanted to ravish her … But would he still feel the same if he saw her nude? Would he still want her then, with her generous breasts and curvy tummy and hips?

“Amber.” His exotic Russian accent sounded more intense. He still stroked the palm of her hand, the heat of his touch scorching her nerve endings.

She gave him a wobbly smile, unable to deny her feelings for him any longer. At least to herself. She’d fallen in love with him. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, and she couldn’t deny his sexy accent added even more to his attraction for her.

“I do not think I can wait any longer.” He looked so serious, so intent.

She swallowed. Was he going to make love to her or break up with her? But surely if he was going to break up with her, he wouldn’t look like he wanted to kiss every inch of her body. Her naked body.

“Wait … for what?” She held her breath.

“To make love with you, my Amber.” His voice was heavy with longing. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Desire pooled in her belly.
He didn’t know what he did to her, either.

“But last night …” Her doubts about Mikhail’s feelings for her came flooding back. Why hadn’t he made a move on her last night if he was so desperate for her?

“I was a fool.” He frowned. “I didn’t want to pressure you, but I paid for it afterwards.” He cast a glance down at the front of his jeans, which appeared to be far tighter than before.

Relief swept through her. He
did
want her. If she’d had doubts before, the evidence was right in front of her. She tried to suppress a giggle.

He must have seen the amusement on her face. “What’s funny?” He quirked an eyebrow and brought her hand to his lips.

It was time to be brave. “I want you too, Mikhail.”

“Lapushka.”
His eyes sizzled with sexual desire.
“Thank God.”

He stood, still holding her hand. Lacing his fingers through hers, he hovered over her. His lips claimed hers, his tongue demanding entry. Amber surrendered to him, wanting nothing more than to make love with the man she was in love with.

He lifted her into his arms, taking care not to jar her ankle. The ice pack dropped to the floor, but Amber barely noticed.
This time, she nestled against his broad shoulder, confident now that she wasn’t too heavy for what she assumed was the short distance to his bedroom.

Seconds later, Mikhail swept back the brown comforter and gently deposited her on his king-sized bed. The masculine bedroom décor was navy with touches of cream.

The smooth cotton sheets were soft against her ankle, the pillow comfortable beneath her head. Before she could register any more first impressions of his bedroom, he joined her on the bed, kissing her lips tenderly at first, then passionately.

“I will be careful with your ankle,” he vowed, trailing kisses along her neck.

Amber realized she hadn’t noticed the pain in her ankle since Mikhail had declared his intention to make love to her. She wrapped her arms around his back, his muscles flexing underneath the smooth cotton fabric of his shirt. 

Her breath hitched when he unbuttoned her blouse, his hands deft and sure.

“Luscious,” he breathed, his gaze fixed on her breasts encased in her white cotton sports bra.

For a regretful moment, she wished she’d worn the frothy pink lace lingerie that had just arrived at the boutique, but by the look on Mikhail’s face, right now it didn’t seem to matter what kind of bra she wore.

He unsnapped her bra, pushing the sturdy material aside, his eyes feasting on her stiff-peaked breasts.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers trailing over the tips of her nipples.

She squirmed beneath him, her toes curling at his touch. Amber caught her breath as his mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue laving the taut peak. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back, passion sweeping through her.

“Mikhail.”
Wanting to give him the same kind of pleasure, she tugged at his shirt, attempting to pull it loose from his jeans.

He shrugged out of it, his attention returning to her breasts, his mouth trailing over her other nipple, giving it equal consideration.

She stroked the firm muscles of his back, savoring the touch of his smooth skin against her fingertips.

His mouth moved lower, towards her stomach, his kisses igniting a fire within her. He unfastened her capris
,
gently tugging them down, until she lay before him in only her white panties printed with little blue flowers.

Amber held her breath. Would he like what he saw?

“My sweet Amber,” he murmured, kissing her hungrily.

He moved off the bed, the rasp of his zip echoing in the bedroom. She watched him yank off his jeans and boots, then his briefs, the sight of him nude taking her breath away. His wide broad shoulders, the hard, muscled planes of his chest, firm stomach, and rock hard length made excitement and longing quiver
through her.

He knelt on the bed, the sheets rustling. Murmuring endearments in his dark, velvety voice, he trailed kisses over her body, slowly making his way up to her neck. She shifted beneath him, her hands fluttering over his back, drifting lower to his firm butt, conscious of his thick shaft pressing against her.

Discarding her panties, he looked at all of her, naked beneath him. Her heart melted when she saw the look of desire on his face.

“Beautiful.” He palmed her neatly trimmed mound, sending scorching heat to every nerve ending.

Mikhail’s lips caressed her neck, then her mouth. He drew away and she tried to press him back down to her, not wanting to let him go.

He smiled, his finger tracing a path along her cheek. “I have been hopeful - very hopeful - since I kissed you for the first time. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“I want you too, Mikhail,” she whispered. Yearning strummed through her. 

He reached over to the side of the bed and yanked open the mahogany nightstand drawer. Grabbing a box, he shook out a foil packet, tearing it open and sheathing himself.

Excitement swirled through her. She parted her legs, ready to become one with Mikhail, the man she loved.

He traced her moist folds, his touch making her quiver with need. “Please,” she gasped, drawing his head down to hers.

“I want to make sure you are ready for me.” His need-roughened voice inflamed her senses further.

“I am.” She wrapped one leg around his waist, surprised at herself for being so bold.

“So I see.” His chuckle turned into a growl as he thrust inside her.

Amber caught her breath at the feel of him inside her. He surged into her, slowly at first, then faster, harder, his face buried in her neck, kissing her tender flesh.

She gripped his muscled back, wrapping her other leg around his waist. Gasping at the friction they created, her fingernails dug into his skin as he brought her higher and higher.

She cried out, her body quaking with ecstasy. Never before had she climaxed so powerfully.

“Amber.”
Electrifying shivers raced through her at the sound of his sexy Russian accent.

He exploded inside her, his whole body shaking with the force of his passion.

She tightened her hold on him, quivering with the aftermath of her orgasm.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself nestled against his chest, his arm encircling her waist, holding her close.