Page 89 of Heated Rivalry 1
Ilya warned him, because he knew Shane didn’t always like to take it in his mouth. But this time Shane did want it, and he sucked harder until Ilya cried out in a mixture of Russian and English and came down Shane’s throat.
Shane flopped beside Ilya on the bed. Ilya started laughing.
“What?” Shane asked.
“Fuck.”
Shane didn’t reply, but he felt the same way.
“I have to go,” he said, after a quiet minute.
“Yes.”
Shane sat up, and moved to leave the bed, when he remembered. “Hey, um. Are you...all right?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? I mean... I know we don’t really...talk. But if you need to—”
“I’m fine,” Ilya said. He said it calmly and easily. Shane didn’t buy it.
“Is it...is your dad...”
Ilya sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. “My father is dying. But that is not the problem.”
“Oh.”
“It is Polina. My stepmother. She is...” He twisted his hand around in the air, searching for the word.
“Sad?” Shane guessed.
Ilya laughed darkly. “No. She is...planning. For her future. My father does not have any money left.”
“Oh.”
“She has been calling me.”
“Ah.” Shane understood now.
“She wants money. They all want money. My brother. My father before he...”
Shane reached over and took Ilya’s hand. “Will you give them any?”
“I already have. Plenty of it. They want more.” He laughed again. “They don’t give a shit about me or my career. They just know I make a lot of money.”
“I’m sorry.” Shane brushed a thumb over Ilya’s knuckles.
“The last time I talked to my father on the phone was a couple of weeks ago. He asked if I could pick up some bread on the way home.”
Shane didn’t know what to say. It was truly heartbreaking.
“The worst part is...” Ilya said quietly, “I like talking to him better. Like this. He was a real fucking asshole when he was...himself.”
“Are you going back to Russia this summer?”
Ilya shrugged. “Yes.”
“Do you...have to?”
