Broken Whispers (Perfectly Imperfect #2)(57)

“Not yet, baby.” I set her down next to the bed and slowly remove my finger from her, but instead of laying down, she climbs to stand on the edge of the bed and presses her palms onto my chest.

“I want to . . .” she whispers, “tell you . . . so much.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Bianca.” I press my lips to hers, then slide my palms down her back and grab her under her ass. I planned on savoring her in the bed but changed my mind, so I pull her up until her legs wrap around my waist and I turn to lean her back against the wall. I lower her onto my rock-hard cock slowly, loving the way her breath catches when I fill her up.

“Even half blind, I can see everything, baby.” I slide out and then slam into her. “Every.” Slam. “Single.” Slam. “Thing.”

Bianca whimpers, squeezing her arms around my neck as she inhales to the beat of me pounding into her. She usually closes her eyes when she comes, but now, she keeps them wide open, holding my gaze as she trembles and pants. I explode inside her like never before, then crash my mouth to hers, squeezing her body to mine and holding her long after we both come down from the high.





Shit. Something is not right.

I try working the dough a bit more, but it’s still sticking to my fingers. After wiping the flour from my hands on the apron, I take the phone from the back pocket of my jeans and open the message window. I promised Lena piroshki for dinner, and I need to make this dough right, damn it.

19:22 Bianca: I fucked up something, the dough looks like bubble gum. Can you check with Igor if he gave you the right measurements?

19:24 Nina: Just try adding more flour. He gives me different measurements every time I ask and I’m starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. Doesn’t want anyone to get his piroshki recipe probably. I’ll tell Roman to scare him a bit, maybe he’ll succumb then.

19:25 Bianca: Please don’t. Lol. I’ll try adding more flour. Anything new there?

19:26 Nina: Roman just came from Sergei’s place. He said that the house looks like a hurricane went through it. Sergei smashed everything.

19:27 Bianca: Why? I never met the guy, but from what I heard from Mikhail, he’s a little . . . unhinged.

19:29 Nina: That’s an understatement of the century, dear. Looks like the girl he had at his place disappeared and he went ballistic. Want to come over?

I’m just typing my answer when I feel a light touch at the base of my neck, followed by a kiss.

“Dusha moya . . .”

I smile and start to turn around, but Mikhail winds his arm around my waist and keeps my back pressed to his chest. He nuzzles my neck as his right hand comes to rest on the countertop in front of me, holding a single yellow rose. All the breath leaves my lungs as I stare at the delicate flower, its stem wrapped in a wide yellow silk ribbon embroidered with gold.

“I never told you,” he whispers in my ear, “ That I was always your biggest fan. I still am.”

“Mikhail?” I utter, my eyes still focused on the flower.

“There was this poster I saw one evening—I think it was in some shop window—almost a year ago. I remember walking past it, and then retracing my steps to take a better look at the image. It showed a group of dancers. All except one were wearing yellow costumes, and as I regarded them, I wondered why, among all of them, the one dancer who wore a black outfit shined brighter than the rest.” A kiss lands at the side of my neck. “Like a sun.”

He turns me to face him then, cups my face with his hand, and places a soft kiss on my lips. “I never missed any of your shows after that. I love you, my little sun. My solnyshko.”

I wind my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. “I love you, too . . . my Mikhail.”





Dear reader ,


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If you want to read more, check out my website, or my author page on Amazon, and stay up to date by following me on social media. The next book in the series is Hidden Truths (Sergei’s story). If you want to put it on your TBR or preorder, here are the links: Hidden Truths Goodreads – click here.

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