Read Bad Apple (Part 1) for Free Online Page B

antibiotics.
    And now that I know that she’s into me, like so into me she almost used a piece of plastic to sort herself out, I’m feeling all kinds of confident that I’m on the right track.
    Now I just have to get her under me before Vadi goes Mission Impossible on poor Ri and we end up going to plan B.
    By the time lunch rolls around, I’ve gotten through my workload for the day, gone to her apartment to pack some things and get rid of the bastard pink phallus, and cooked her a soup that Mama swears would cure anything.
    “Hey, angel, you feeling any better?” I ask when she struggles to sit and peers at me through sleepy eyes.
    “Meh, my ass is a goner but my ankle feels a little better now that I’m not banging it into shit,” she mumbles, her eyes going wide when I lay the tray over her lap.
    “Is that…?”
    “Yup.”
    “Oh God, I only get this when I’m at death’s door and Mama’s not angry at me. Thank you!” she moans, lifting the bowl to her mouth and not bothering with a spoon.
    My Ri likes to eat like a normal person, and I’m giving serious consideration to buying her a bib when she finally drains the broth and starts attacking the innards and vegetables with the spoon, her groans of rapture making me regret not rubbing one out earlier.
    Who knew watching a woman attack her meal would be such a turn-on?
    When she’s done, I place the tray on the floor and lean in, wanting to surround her with every inch of me.
    “We need to talk, angel.”
    She starts fidgeting with the bedspread and peeps up at me with those amazing eyes, the honey-brown color doing terrible things to my control.
    “Talk? Listen, Misha, I told you…er, okay so maybe I didn’t tell you, but I thought you understood that I don’t want a big relationship or anything. I mean, I like you and I like your family. I even think Nik may be totally into Vadim or something, but…that’s not the point. I’m totally rambling here. I don’t want a big committed relationship or anything, because…well because I don’t, so you need to stop looking at me like that and promise me we’re friends.”
    “Friends? After you gave me a show?” I tease, watching her cheeks pinken delightfully.
    She has no need for lingerie or looks beneath her lashes, and quite frankly I am doubtful that my little clutz would even know how to attempt such a thing. Thank goodness for us both, I’m seduced by just the memory of her splayed legs and her teary red face.
    “I didn’t give you a show! I thought you were one of the girls. And anyway, how the heck did you know my number? Or where I live? And how did your number get into my phone and on the family ringtone?” she demands, looking weary and put upon all at once.
    Adorable.
    “I am not one of the girls. I know where you live because I asked Vadim to find out from Nikita, and I put my number in your phone and on that ringtone after you scuttled out of my mama’s kitchen looking like the hounds of Hades were on your tail, angel. Hurt my ego that you weren’t even the slightest bit interested in me after the way you ate me with your eyes on Thursday,” I pout, fighting off a laugh at her facial expression.
    She leans over to comfort me, completely playing into my hands.
    “Oh, Misha, that’s not true. You’re completely sexy and I’d have to be dead not to be interested,” she soothes, squeaking when I pounce and pin her beneath my body with a howl of triumph.
    Her hands hit my chest but don’t push me away. I almost come on the spot when she starts stroking me, her fingers scraping over my nipples and sending shocks of electric need straight to my groin.
    “But you aren’t,” I lament, inching myself over her by increments as her distracted stroking keeps her mind occupied long enough to get me between her legs.
    It feels so good as my cock hits the heat of her sex seeping through the sheets. I have to grit my teeth to stop from thrusting into it.
    “I am, really I am. I just