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His mother sacrificed anything and everything to give the son, who was a product of rape, a life she never had, and Joy, my mom, the socialite who threw money at her problems, was the ice queen extraordinaire and more concerned about what I ate than what actually went on with me.
Kova’s eyes grew distant, filling with longing and grief, his mouth a firm, grim line. “I did not need anything, though. I would give up everything, give it all back, to have her here.” The warmth of his hands heated my hips. He breathed his pain into me through his touch. Sorrow coursed through his tone and I believed every word that left his mouth.
My heart ached, feeling so incredibly empty for Kova and the life his mother was dealt. Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
“So after she died, I added an A to my last name for her. I did not want to ever forget her or what she gave up for me.”
I couldn’t take anymore, from both his words and this new skill. Tears brimmed the back of my eyes while I listened to him talk about his mother and her struggles. I placed my hands at the crook of his arms to comfort him, his hands still clutching my hips, tenderly now. Warmth spread throughout my body being face-to-face and just inches apart. Kova peered down at me through hooded eyes as I said in a cracked whisper, “That is the most incredible thing I have ever heard.”
He continued softly. “She came to my first two Olympics with me. She was so happy, happier than I was I think. It meant so much to me she was there, too. However, when my third Games came around for me, she was too ill to travel. In fact, her doctors were highly against it, so I gave it up to be with her. She was upset I did, but I had no choice. She was always there for me. How could I not be there for her? The alternate gymnast on the team stepped in and ended up taking home some medals of his own, then went on to compete in the Games four years later.” He grew quiet, seemingly lost in his thoughts. “I do not regret it at all. I got to be with my mom and take care of her as she did for me, and someone else got their chance at the Olympics. Is it not crazy how things happen?”
I knew what he meant. Being an alternate on the Olympic team pretty much meant you were a bench warmer—that was it.
I wanted to turn away from his anguished filled gaze, but I couldn’t. He’d expose himself in ways I never anticipated. Raw emotion came from him in waves, and it was felt deep inside my gut. I didn’t know what to do or what to say next. I was fifteen and had hardly experienced life the way Kova had, let alone death. I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth and had everything I could ever want. Kova had not.
So all I stupidly said was, “Yeah, it is.”
Kova leaned in and tightened his hold. One hand slid around to the small of my back as my hands moved to flatten on his firm chest. His fingers splayed out dangerously down my ass, one digit pressed between the center. I held my breath. The heat of his hands seared through my leo and I fought back a tremor. He was just an inch away from my lips when his eyes traveled down to my mouth.
“Thanks for listening to me, Ria.”
Ria. I smiled, liking the nickname an awful lot.
Slowly, he inched closer, and my heart beat rapidly against my chest at his nearness. I had no idea what he was about to do, and I briefly wondered if he’d kiss me. He was my coach. No way would he do that.
Unease swept through me without an inkling of how to proceed. Never mind I knew what I was supposed to do, should’ve moved away, not silently wished he’d press his lips to mine.
The stillness between us was thicker than humidity, and it took all of me not to lean in to kiss him. I knew I should’ve been repulsed by him, but oddly enough, I wasn’t. I was intrigued if anything. Every fiber in my body told me to lean in, not run in the other direction.
“A couple of weeks ago you said something in Russian...it started with an M...May-lash-a? What did it mean?”
A smiled curled his full lips. “Maa-lish. Malysh.” My sight trained on his mouth, his tongue tapped his top teeth as he said again, “Malysh.” The word washed over me in a wave of rapture.
“How do you spell it?”
“M-A-L-Y-S-H.” His accent was stronger than ever.
Our breaths mingled, and one of Kova’s hands carefully slid up my waist and rested on my ribs. His thumb ran in circles, his body creating heat between us as he caressed me. He slid his hand onto my back and up to my nape where he cupped my neck. My breathing deepened and I thought I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t calm my racing heart. His dark brows formed a deep V and his shrewd eyes didn’t waver.
“What does it mean?” I asked softly, my back arching and my chest nearly pressed to his.
He shook his head as if he didn’t want to say. “It was an accident. I did not mean to say it.”
I frowned at him. “Please? I want to know.”
His deep stare caused my stomach to flutter. One hand brazenly moved up to rest on his firm pectoral. My fingers spread out and he flexed under my touch, his fingers pressing deeper into me in response.
“Baby,” he said gutturally. “It means baby.”
Baby. He had accidently called me baby just weeks ago. I had to wonder why the word would have been on his mind to begin with if it was an accident like he declared.
My gaze traveled down his straight nose to his mouth, where it stayed. My head tilted to the side as my eyes traced his full, kissable lips, wondering what they’d feel like pressed to mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed slowly, like he took a long, hard swallow.
This wasn’t me. I didn’t kiss my coach, teacher, or really anyone older than the legal age, or someone who was off-limits. Not that I’d ever had the desire as I did now. I’d heard countless stories over the years of gymnast and coach relationships, some consensual, some not. Though, not nearly as many as the married moms having affairs with coaches.
With that being said, in this moment, I could fully understand why some of those forbidden relationships were acted upon. This was completely and utterly enthralling. Nothing was forced. It was a craving woven with lust, a newfound hunger clawing inside.
