Page 68 of Enemy Within

“No,” Sasha breathed. “No, no, no, Sergey, you cannot! It is impossible. Youcannotbe this way!” His voice rose, until he was begging, pleading for Sergey to take it back. “Not you. Please. Not you, Sergey.”

“What are you saying? I cannot love another man?”

“No!Youcannot!” Sasha ran his hands through his hair, gripping the blond strands as he groaned. “You are the president! You are our country’sonlyhope.Youare the one who can bring us out of the dark ages. Fix everything. Give us a new country, and a real place in the world.”

“You give me too much power—”

“No! I do not. You already purged the corrupt oligarchs. No one has been able to do this, and you did. You are bringing equality to Russia, the promise that all Russians are safe in your nation. These are things Russia needs!” He swallowed hard. “You must take back Moscow, and you must throw out Moroshkin and this rebellion. And then you will lead us again, Sergey, further into the future.”

“If that happens—”

“Itmusthappen.”

“Ifthat happens, then I want you by my side.” He held out his hand, reaching for Sasha. “With me.”

Sasha’s jaw dropped again. His eyes went glassy, a shine that fractured the blue in his gaze. “You cannot be weak. They will eat you alive,” he whispered. “Moroshkin built his followers by claiming you and Jack were too close. They joked about you and him as lovers, and it was not even true. What do you think they would do to you if you really were with another man? Youcannotbe weak.”

“Weak?” Sergey tried to laugh, shaking his head. “I am already weak. Weakened by cowardice. By shame. By want.” He stared into Sasha’s wet gaze. “I broke when you left. A part of me flew off into the skies with you, and I want that back. I already love you, Sasha. I’m already weakened by this, by these feelings. I want to be strong again.” He turned his hand over in the sand, palm up, and slid it toward Sasha. “Strongwithyou.”

“Sergey…”

“We can do all those things together. We can bring Russia into the future, side by side. There is more work to be done, yes, and we can do it—”

“You’re deluded by Jack! Russia isnotAmerica! If you are in love with a man, they will never accept you! Never let you be president. You could never do what needs to be done.” Sasha shook his head, snarling. “Russia will never accept you and me.”

“You are wrong.” Desperation colored his voice, made his words shake. This was not at all what he’d imagined would happen. Not even close.

“I amnotwrong. I know how little our country accepts men like me, Sergey.” His voice turned sharp, cutting.

Sergey scooted forward until he was right in front of Sasha. “Tell me this one thing, Sasha. Do not hide behind duty and loyalty. You will tell me the truth. Do you care about me at all, or is this just a way to push me off, this talk of Russia and her future, all of her needs?”

Sasha reached for him with one shaking hand, resting his palm against Sergey’s thin face. Sasha was warm, his hand rough. “You can build a new future for us all. Make Russia a true home for people like me. This is no small thing.” He trembled as he touched Sergey, and let out a breath, almost a gasp. “And… I care for you so deeply that it hurts—”

“Then—” Reaching out with both hands, Sergey clasped Sasha’s face, bringing him close, until their foreheads touched, rubbing together. “Sasha, please.Please.” Everything in him ached for Sasha, yearned for the man, for the connection he could feel quivering just beneath their skin, electric zings where they touched. He wanted to know, and be known. Love, and be loved. Hold Sasha, and face the future together. “Please,” he whispered.

Sasha squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head, his cheeks brushing Sergey’s palms. “Russia needs you to be—”

“Then let us leave. As soon as Madigan is dead, and Moroshkin, too. We will go, far away. Where it can be just you and me, and nothing can come between us.”

A lone tear slipped down Sasha’s cheek. It crashed into Sergey’s thumb, sliding down his skin. “Russia needsyou,” Sasha breathed again. “And I will not be the man who took away Russia’s best hope for her future. Who took you away.” His hands rose and covered Sergey’s. “Russia needsyou. I am nothing compared to all of that.”

Sergey’s heart screamed, burned to its core with anguish and agony. Fault lines appeared in his soul, cracks that went all the way through him, through his past and his present, and stretched into his future. The choices in his life had led to this moment, and he’d do anything to make it different. Anything to change the world, and all the fates, and allow the two of them to close the gap between their shaking lips and steal another kiss for themselves.

One kiss from Sasha was all he would ever have.

His eyes slipped closed, and his hands fell from Sasha’s cheeks. He fell forward, pitching into Sasha, and ended up pressing his face into Sasha’s shoulder, his chest. His lungs burned, and he heaved, trying to drag in breath after breath. All he did was pull Sasha’s exquisite, indefinable scent deep within his soul: musk, cold air, and the glow of the stars over Moscow, painted and brushed over his body.

Sasha’s arms wound around him, dragging him closer, pulling him flush against his body as he lay back on the sand. Side by side, almost intertwined, Sasha pressed his lips to Sergey’s hair in an open-mouthed moan. It was almost a kiss, aside from the groan, the wave of pain falling from Sasha.

Sergey wrapped his arms around Sasha’s waist, finally stroking the body he’d dreamed of ever since Sasha had left his side. Strength, so much strength, wrapped in layers of soft cotton and starched blue canvas. Hardened muscles, shaking beneath his palms. Sasha’s thighs gripped him, wrapped between and around his legs and held him fast. His hips pressed against Sergey’s stomach, and,oh—

“I should go,” Sergey whispered. He had no right to feel Sasha’s body like this. Or, maybe he should stay, endure the torture of having who he loved so close, and yet unreachable. “I should—”

“Not yet, Sergey.” Another open-mouthed press, and another mournful moan. “It is selfish,” Sasha breathed over his hair. “But let me hold you for one night.”

One kiss. One night in Sasha’s arms.

He turned his face into Sasha’s chest and breathed in, reliving every memory he had of the two of them together. Every smile. Every laugh. Every single moment of crystalline happiness.