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My Russian Dream – BWWM Russian Romance

Russian Dream - BWWM Russian Romance

By My Russian Dream

See where to buy My Russian Dream here.

Sample This BWWM Russian Romance Below

The wave seemed to be thirty feet high; she watched it from the shore, rooted to the spot. It was coming for her and there was nothing she could do about it. Her whole body was frozen. She opened her mouth to scream, but her vocal cords were not working either. The huge black wave came closer and closer; but just before it engulfed her in silently screaming agony, she woke up.

Sophie Devereaux had this dream a lot, especially when she was stressed. Ever since Hurricane Katrina had forced her ejection from her home and the loss of her family. She shrugged inwardly trying to shake the dream. Her grandfather Elijah was still with her – that was something at least. But her little brother Joseph was in the wind and her grandmother had been too weak to run. They had tried to save her, but the waves had engulfed the house before they could get the wheelchair out. Sophie and her grandfather had moved to Boston after searching in vain for her brother. There was no news of him that they could find – not in the refugee camps, the message boards, nowhere. Grandpa Elijah had gone back to work as a watchmaker. He had been well known in New Orleans as a master craftsman; here in Boston, he worked in anonymity in the back room of a jeweler’s while Sophie interned at an accounting firm. She was trying to earn her qualifications as an accountant. It might not be a happy life, but it was theirs at least.

Sophie got out of bed and wrapped a robe around her full figure. She padded down the hall to her grandfather’s room to check that he was still breathing. It was a habit she couldn’t quite kick. The smell of coffee wafting down the hall from the kitchen told her that he was not only breathing, he was up and making breakfast. She changed direction to the bathroom to take a shower. Unlike her grandfather who still had until 10am to get to work, she had the office keys so she was supposed to be in by at least 7am.

“Good morning my dear.” Her grandfather smiled at her as she walked into the kitchen fully dressed, twenty minutes later.

“Mornin’ G. How’s tricks?” she asked in turn. Her grandfather glared at her from behind the plate of pancakes he was making. He hated ‘young people slang’ as he called the funky abbreviations of her generation and so Sophie had taken to calling him ‘G-Money’ when she was feeling playful. He pretended to hate it, but she saw the way he bit back a smile every time she said it. Anything that made her grandfather smile was just about alright with Sophie.

“Is that how you greet your boss at work? You won’t last long at those white people firms if you do,” her grandfather said.

“Nah, I save that just for you G-Money. Speaking of, are you good for lunch or do you need me to…” Sophie began before he cut her off.

“I’m fine Sophie”, he said very gently, “now eat up quick so you’re not late for work.”

Sophie smiled at her grandfather and finished her breakfast.


It was a cold day in Boston and Anton “Tony” Romanov was pensive as he strolled slowly down the street. Seven o’clock in the morning and downtown was already bustling with hurrying commuters. Tony’s mind wasn’t on the traffic though; he was deep in thought about what to do with his current accountant; he was pretty sure the man was stealing from him.

I should get an audit done.’ He thought as he watched his feet move in the shiny black shoes he’d treated himself to on his birthday. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to paying $1000 for a pair of shoes no matter how well he was doing. That thought reminded him of his father and he smiled grimly imagining him in this situation. Roman Petrov was not a man to tolerate thieves. But this was America and times and situations were different here.

The sound of a startled squeak caused him to lift his head, just in time to see a rotund young woman almost fall on the slippery sidewalk. He hurried forward to see if he could help her, but she had righted herself and hurried away before he could. He stopped for a minute to contemplate a backside so lush and luscious that it rendered her waist tiny in comparison. Her hips swayed from side to side as she walked up to a door and let herself in a building. Without even thinking about it, Anton followed her.


Sophie checked her watch as she came up to the offices of Rodham, Clarence and Haggerty; Certified Public Accountants. She was five minutes late and Rodham was already at the door, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Good morning, sir,” she said as she put the key in the lock and opened up the office.

“You’re late,” he replied with a frown.

Sophie opened her mouth to apologize, then closed it again. ‘What the hell’ she thought, ‘it’s not like he ever really sees me anyway. An apology probably wouldn’t even register.’ She swept into the office in his wake, unbuttoning her coat even as she turned to close the door. The man standing in the doorway gave her a turn and she made a startled sound, hand to her heart.

“Oh! Err, can I help you?” she asked a bit breathlessly. His eyes were very blue she thought, especially with that blonde hair. Piercing too; and he was staring at her in a way that was a shade under polite.

“Yes, I am looking for an accountant,” he was saying, “Have I come to the right place?”

Sophie’s eyes slid to the prominently displayed sign on the door, but refrained from saying anything untoward. Clearly he was a client.

“Well, yes, you have. Come in,” she said instead.

“Thank you. And your name is…?” he asked, still staring at her with those piercing ice blue eyes. ‘Could you possibly look elsewhere?’ she thought at him, hoping it would somehow register.

“Sophie. Why don’t you come into the waiting room while I see if Mr. Rodham is available?” she said, ushering him in and hoping that would avert his attention. No such luck, he continued to stare at her like he had found the mother lode in a gold mine and he was afraid to take his eyes off it lest it disappear.

“Err; can I get you a coffee or tea, maybe?” Sophie asked.

“No thank you,” he said, sitting down.

Sophie hurried away before anything else strange could happen. If she didn’t know better, she would think that guy was checking her out. But she’d taken a look at his shoes as soon as he walked in; that brand did not come cheap – he was definitely out of her league. Perhaps he had never seen a black woman working in an accountant’s office before? Sophie shrugged inwardly and went to announce him to Mr. Rodham. It was only as she stepped into her boss’ office that she realized she did not know the client’s name.

She hesitated, wanting to go back out and find out the name before she got another blot on her name before ten o’clock in the morning on a Monday in February but Rodham had already looked up.

“Yes Sophie?” he said.

Sophie frowned, wondering if he’d ever used her name before – just her luck he would choose today to remember it.

“There’s…a man in the waiting room wanting to see an accountant,” she said.

Mr. Rodham contemplated her for a moment eyebrow raised.

“Send him in,” was all he said at last.

Sophie breathed again and went to tell the man with the piercing blue eyes that the boss would see him now.

The office was quickly filling up and Sophie put the strange happenings of the morning behind her in favor of getting to work. Mr. Rodham and the client were in his office a long time and Sophie wondered if he had come for help declaring bankruptcy, or maybe it was a mortgage gone badly. So many people came with money management issues these days. ‘Mr. Blue Eyes could start by buying cheaper shoes’ she thought.


“My accountant is stealing from me,” Tony began bluntly, “and I need an independent audit.”

“Is that so?” Rodham leaned back in his chair contemplating the client. His suit said expensive, but bourgeoisie with it. His shoes were clearly very new. Not Old Money then; and Russian to boot. Mafia, perhaps? But he doubted the Russian Mafia asked for audits.

“Yes. Can you help me or not?” Tony asked.

“Of course. I’ll get someone who is skilled in this area to get right on it,” Rodham said, picking up the phone and summoning one of the associates.

“This is Curtis Jackson; he is one of our brightest associates with a talent for spotting fraud. He is at your disposal,” Rodham said as Jackson came in.

Tony nodded at Jackson, who smiled at him and ushered him into the conference room so as to get the details of his case.


Sophie was typing up some financial reports for clients while simultaneously studying for her CPA exam when a shadow fell over her desk. She looked up to see Jackson grinning down at her.

“Hey Sophie,” he said.

“Hi. Can I help you with something?” she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Jackson smiling never boded well for anyone.

Au contraire, it’s what I have done for you,” he said confirming all her worst suspicions.

“And what is that Jackson? Will I need to kill you now or later?” she asked fist curling involuntarily.

“Definitely later. I got you a date,” he said grin widening.

“You…what?” she asked, almost choking in her disbelief.

“That Ruski dude that was here this morning? Remember him? Took quite a shine to you,” Jackson said, propping himself on the edge of her desk.

Sophie’s hand reached out and she grabbed the calendar staring at it, “Nope. It’s not April 1st; so what the hell are you trying to do to me?” she was whispering, but the menace in her voice was unmistakable.

“C’mon Sophie, you have no life. You come to work; you go home to your grand pops. You’re a beautiful woman. The man likes you. Give him a chance,” Jackson wheedled.

“Are you pimping me out to your clients Jackson?” Sophie asked him pseudo-politely.

“No!” Jackson said and sighed, “Look, just hear him out okay? If you don’t like him, say no.”

There was a small silence.

“Besides, he’s way out of my league,” Sophie said, and then could have bitten her tongue. Giving Jackson a reason he could argue away was as good as acquiescing to his demands.


“G-Money! You home?” Sophie called as she got in that night. Her feet were killing her! She flung her heels off her feet with more violence than strictly necessary. Being a size sixteen meant that there was quite a bit of weight pressing on her toes. She would have preferred wearing flats, but the office had an unspoken policy on how its female employees should present themselves. Heels were part of the uniform. She walked to her room still calling out for her grandfather, but there was no reply. Then she remembered that Monday nights was poker night for him and his workmates at the jeweler’s. He wouldn’t be home until later. Changing into a comfortable pair of black sweats she went to contemplate the contents of the fridge. There was some leftover gumbo which she warmed up and ate at the table while Jay Z blasted from her beats headphones, telling her about his 99 problems. This was followed by her guilty pleasure, Justin Bieber, singing about Beauty and a Beat.

Did Mr. Blue Eyes really want to date her? Did she want to date him? She’d never been with a white guy before. They usually weren’t into the bigger girls like her; not that she minded. Her voluptuous figure was quite popular enough, thank you; she had no complaints. But Jackson was right. What with money so tight and everything that had happened, she had to admit she was living the life of a recluse. Hell, even her grandfather had more of a social life than her! Maybe if he asked her, she might say yes…just to see what dating was like these days.

Sophie snorted, “Someone would think you’re like some middle aged hag instead of a twenty five year old babe the way you talk,” she said to herself. She leaned forward, glancing at her blemish free heart shaped features in the mirror. Her short curly hair framed her face in a way that flattered her prominent cheek bones and round brown eyes. Her rosebud shaped mouth smiled a little smugly. She lifted her index finger and touched her full lips with it and then touched the mirror.

“Sssmmokin,” she whispered.

Then she went off to bed.


“Good morning,” a deep voice said to her as a shadow fell on her desk. She knew it was him before she looked up. She wouldn’t be forgetting that voice in a hurry. Her head lifted slowly, as she felt her face glow.

“Down girl,” she whispered to her rapidly increasing pulse, “no need to get excited or nothin’”

She pinned a smile to her face and looked up, “Hi,” she said breathlessly.

“I’m Tony Romanov,” he said.

“Hi Tony,” she replied, feeling dizzy. Her smile felt extremely artificial on her face, but she couldn’t seem to shift it.

“Um, would you like to have coffee with me?” he suggested, piercing her with those ice blue eyes and leaving her helplessly pinned to her seat. Or at least that’s how it felt.

“Sure,” she managed to whisper.

“Great. Shall I pick you up after work?” he offered, smiling down at her and literally taking her breath away. She nodded her acquiescence. His smile widened and he nodded back at her before Curtis came to whisk him off to his office.

Sophie stood up and bolted to the ladies room, “What. The hell. Is the matter with you girl?” she scolded herself sternly in the mirror, “Settle down before you make even more of a damned fool of yourself!”

She breathed in and out with her eyes closed, all the while wondering at this reaction. Yesterday she hadn’t reacted at all this way to his presence. Maybe she was just nervous about the date. She nodded to herself, deciding that this was the reason and then went back to work.

The day passed without event, Sophie threw herself into her work and studying for her exam, so much so that she was startled when the shadow was back at her desk, promptly at 6pm.

“Hi Sophie,” Blue Eyes said…Tony. His name was Tony.

“Hi…Tony,” she replied, smiling woodenly up at him. She wanted to slap herself out of this fugue state he seemed to put her in but he was watching her.

“Shall we go?” he asked, holding out his hand. Sophie stood up and smiled at him. She was a tall girl, but he towered over her.

“I’ll just go freshen up. Real quick, I promise,” she said, hurrying away from him.

Tony watched her go, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” he murmured to himself.

“Whoa, down boy,” an amused voice said from behind him. He turned around to find Curtis smiling at him.

“Oh, hello Curtis. I was just…” Tony began, embarrassed at being caught out.

“Oh, I know what you were just…” Curtis replied grinning, “Keep it in your pants though. Sophie ain’t that kinda girl.”

“I was not…” Tony began to protest, but then caught himself. He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Not anymore.

Curtis saw his discomfiture and changed the subject, “I have something for you by the way, if you want to stop by my office tomorrow.”

Tony stared at him in surprise, “Already?”

“Yeah. What can I say? I’m the best,” Curtis replied with a pseudo-self-deprecating shrug and a smirk.

Tony nodded and agreed to come and then turned his attention back to Sophie who was just swaying her way over from the ladies’ room. She had slicked down her hair with some kind of gel, leaving all the bones of her face exposed and her eyes looking three times as big. Her lips were painted with a brown lipstick and the overall effect was just…electric. Tony wondered if she would let him kiss her after their date. He’d just met her yesterday, but he felt like he’d been waiting for her for millennia. His hands itched to place themselves on those luscious hips; the mere thought caused his penis to twitch.

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