Knocked Up By the Russian Boss by Bella King

Chapter 19

MAXIM

The hallways in this complex are deadly quiet, unlike anything I’ve experienced in an apartment before. It’s almost annoying how soundproof everything is. I don’t get to indulge in the meaningless details of my neighbors’ lives, such as angry sex or fights.

I’m approaching Ivory’s apartment to return her laptop when I hear high-pitched moaning coming from just beyond the door.

Then I hear my name.

What the hell?

I knock on the door despite knowing I shouldn’t, curious now to see what exactly is going on in Ivory’s apartment. Am I interrupting something? The idea of Ivory being with a man and saying my name both makes my blood boil and forces it into my cock.

For a moment, the apartment is dead silent. Had I not heard her just a few moments ago, I would assume she wasn’t even home.

Then, I hear her light footsteps as she races to the door, but not before running around in circles on the other side. It takes her ages to actually get to the door to open it.

When she finally answers the door, her face is flushed, and she’s only half-dressed, wearing a loose t-shirt and panties with no bra.

“What is it?! What do you want?!” she hisses, still breathing heavily.

I pull the laptop from my bag. “Oh, nothing,” I reply.

She gasps and immediately snatches it from my hands. “How did you get this?” she asks, evaluating the laptop as if she had never seen one before.

“Pulled some strings,” I lie. There’s no way she cares enough about how I got the laptop back. All she needs to know is that I got it back for her. Me.

“Well, you seem to be busy, so I’ll go, I guess,” I say. I obviously know that she’s not really busy, but I’m curious to see how she deflects.

“I’m not busy,” she protests, her words stumbling out of her mouth like drunken sailors.

Now I know she’s definitely up to something. Who gets that upset about being accused of being busy?

“Interesting,” I reply as I walk past her into the apartment.

She doesn’t try to stop me, to my surprise, but she does appear shocked that I would just walk in. I guess she’ll have to get used to that.

“Uh,” is all she says before I sit on the couch and resume the same position I was in earlier in the day. It’s objectively a nice place, and the city lights look incredible from up here. I wonder if she sees it this way every night or if it’s all commonplace to her.

“Do you want some tea again?” she asks me.

I remember burning myself on the tea she gave me earlier, but it would be twice as weird of me to enter her house without accepting some kind of gesture of hospitality.

So, I nod, and she starts to prepare the tea.

Watching her move around the kitchen is interesting, to say the least, definitely arousing at times. She seems frantic, and whenever she lifts her arms to reach something above her head, the hem of her shirt comes up and shows me her ass, which is a welcome surprise as I doubt she was anticipating it.

Doesn’t she feel my eyes on her? If so, she doesn’t seem to mind.

She has such a tiny frame that the mental image of her being nine months pregnant is almost comical. Is she even capable of carrying a pregnancy to term? I guess I should have thought about that before I made her my primary target.

Oh well. I guess she’ll have to find out.

I pull a cigar from my jacket pocket and light it, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m in another person’s home in a non-smoking facility.

Almost as soon as I light up, Ivory turns to me and stares me down. “What are you doing?!” she asks, practically seeing red in one second flat.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” I reply, ashing out the cigar on her cherrywood coffee table.

She doesn’t even respond, just stares at me some more with the fury of a thousand white-hot suns in her eyes. I suppose I should really be trying to get on her good side if I plan on getting her pregnant and siphoning her wealth from her. It’s something I should work on, to say the least.

I settle back into the couch, trying to seem more like a normal person and less like the beast of a man I actually am. It’s difficult to hide my true self. I’m not used to it.

When Ivory brings the tea over, she’s jittery, almost trembling visibly. It’s sort of fun to watch her get all flustered over me being here, especially after hearing her dainty moans. She said my name, I think.

She sits down next to me and hands me the tea, which I promptly place on the table in front of me next to the burn mark from the cigar. I can replace the table, it’s fine. I can replace everything but her, and that’s why I must make sure I play my cards right.

In a strange little turn of events, she is now leering at me, and I have no idea what’s going on inside her little blonde head. Does she think I’m terrifying? Does she think I’m a horrible person? Does she like me at all?

We sit in near silence for almost three minutes while we try to figure out what to say.

The tension is building, and I can smell her perfume again. She’s absolutely intoxicating to me. I wish I could just inhale all of her. I can feel the vibration of our energy together, just like last time.