Free Bad Apple (Part 1) by Kristina Weaver

only God knows how that’s even possible.”
    How? I’ve had plan B ready and waiting since I walked into her shop and saw the world’s best ass taunting me. That damn marriage licence has been burning a hole in my pocket for days.
    “We will be good together, angel. We’re friends, yes? And we’re good in bed,” I purr, rolling into her with a growl against her pink nipple.
    Her shudder of need gratifies me, settling some of the nerves I’ve been battling all morning and I grin, holding myself over her to meet her eyes.
    “We can have a good life, angel, we can.”
     
     

Chapter Fourteen
    Irina
    Looking deep into his eyes is like seeing the sunrise from a mountaintop. I feel overwhelmed. I also feel owned as he leans over me with his beautiful, tattooed chest and melds his skin to mine, reminding me of the utter pleasure and bone-deep satisfaction still coursing through me.
    Then there is the fear and fury.
    We’re married. Married, for God’s sake! After only knowing each other a week, he’s looking at me as if I’m his forever, no arguments.
    “Stop regretting this, Irina!” he yells suddenly, pushing away with a curse that blisters my ears.
    “I, well what do you want me to do?” I yell back, coming to my feet in a rush, my hand movements jerky as I wrap the sheets around me and stand gaping as he paces naked in front of the bed. “Yesterday I had my whole life turned upside down, and today I wake up to find out I’m married to a Russian billionaire who has no qualms about trampling all over me to get what he wants!”
    What does he want form me? I don’t understand any of this—why he looked at me and wanted me. Why he couldn’t just be my friend.
    Nik and Tatiana surfed the web for hours showing me pictures of his exes, or should I say bed partners, and I have no idea how he can go from being attracted to blonde, skinny socialites to wanting me.
    Liza, my only true friend in the caring department, poured milk all over Nik’s laptop at one point and threatened to beat them to death with her cleaver.
    The point is, I know what his type is and I am so not it.
    “Because you make it so difficult to do it any other way, Irina.” He charges back, stopping an arm’s length away from me.
    His chest is rising and falling and I’m almost distracted by the tattoo glaring at me from his left pec.
    “You put up walls the moment I talked to you and made up your mind that you wouldn’t even give me a chance. You’ve done nothing but shove your friendship in my face all week, and then you go and drape yourself all over another man, offering him what is mine,” he rages, pacing away again, this time pulling at the long hair on his head.
    His is completely unkempt and adorably messy as he keeps pacing and throwing Russian growls my way, stopping only to give me an odd look before continuing.
    “Misha, this is ridiculous. We can’t be married to each other. We’re not at all suited,” I try again.
    Gone is my glow and any feelings of tenderness when all the man does is sneer and fall into the chair in the corner, his disregard for his nakedness and the erection I have been trying not to look at setting my teeth on edge.
    “We are, and we suit just fine, Irina. We are very alike, you and I. We love our family and friends and we work hard to make a good life for those around us.”
    Yes, but at what cost?
    “Is this because your mama likes me?”
    That gets me a laugh and I stamp my foot until he shakes his head and looks up at me.
    “No. This is because you have what I want, Irina, and I always get what I want. Ask anyone who has ever done business with me. Now stop trying to annoy me with nonsense and let’s talk about how we’re going to fix your business. Vadim has found two decent locations, my preferred one just down the block on the corner of our street.”
    “What?”
    “I have found you a new shop—”
    “I don’t need a new shop. I like the old one just fine and—”
    “And Vadim