Marina
The seamstress has her mouth full of pins and her hands on my waist, pulling the satin tighter across my ribs.
I've been standing on this pedestal for the past forty minutes while she adjusts the hideous dress Maksim demands I wear for the wedding.
I flick a glance at Elira and she snickers at my annoyance.
I can't even get to my phone, which is on the table across the room.
"Turn," she says around the pins.
The dress moves with me as I turn and I watch my reflection in the mirror. I look like a woman who's about to marry a man she loves, not a prisoner being forced to make a business arrangement. If I unfocus my eyes and don't look at the glare on my face, I'd almost believe it were true.
"You think so?" I'm so numb. Most women go giddy over picking out their wedding gown, while I feel like a zombie. My mind is on Stepan. It has been all day. Maybe he would go insane with desire if he saw me in this dress, but Maksim will only nod politely and expect me to not upstage him.
The seamstress hums in agreement, adjusting the hem as I hear my phone buzzing.
Stepan was flirting with me before, trying to convince me to sneak out with him.
But after weeks of telling my father I was out dress shopping and never picking one, the excuse is going to start sounding like a lie.
I can't go home without having a dress nailed down, complete with receipts to prove it.
Which means I can't leave this dress shop until the seamstress is done with her damn pins.
"Problem, Miss?" she mumbles, now only a few pins in her mouth.
I force a fake smile and shake my head, but I give Elira a pleading expression and she seems to get the point. When I glance at my phone and nod a few times, she rolls her eyes at me and walks over there, picking it up to bring it to me.
"Thank you," I mouth, but she's already back to her seat to sip her champagne.
I immediately turn my attention to the multiple messages on my phone, some of them nothing more than emojis—mostly eggplants and tacos or peaches—and grin when I see the most recent one.
Stepan: 3:22 PM: What are you doing right now?
I wait until the seamstress turns to get more pins and then I pull at the collar of the uncomfortable dress before I reply.
Marina: 3:23 PM: I'm at Dom Nevesta getting fitted for a dress I don't want to wear.
I send a smattering of wedding-related emojis and then a frowny face.
It feels like Stepan is the only one I can actually be myself with.
If I got painfully honest with Elira, she would just encourage me to see it from my father's perspective, because she's like that.
She will always try to make me feel comfortable in my circumstance when she knows it's not an easy fix.
But Stepan feels different, like he can see the way I feel trapped and wants to help me out of that.
Stepan: 3:23 PM: Take it off then.
Marina: 3:24 PM: You'd like that wouldn't you?
The devil horns and smirking face I send has him sending yet another eggplant.
Stepan: 3:24 PM: I'd like a lot of things right now.
Marina: 3:25 PM: Tell me...
Stepan: 3:25 PM: Not over text. I'd rather show you.
My face is hot when Elira glances at me and raises an eyebrow.
At this rate, everyone in this store is going to smell my arousal.
I lock the phone and hold it at my side as the seamstress turns back, now working on the shoulders.
I can't afford to let her see my messages. I don’t know who she is or if she knows Maksim well, but if word got back to him about how I'm messaging another man, he would flip out entirely.
For the next twenty minutes my phone is quieter, a few notifications I check but no texts from Stepan. I wonder if he's gotten busy, but then I feel the phone vibrate and know it's him. It makes my body tingle just wondering what he's going to say next.
"We're all done now. You can go change back into your normal clothing." The seamstress looks up at me with curious eyes and glances at my phone. She's a nosy one, and I'm glad I didn't look at that message with her leaning over my shoulder.
"Thank you," I mumble as I step down from the pedestal.
Elira and the seamstress wrangle the ridiculous six-foot train behind this gown as I waddle toward the dressing room.
I have no clue how Maksim expects me to walk down the aisle while dragging this much extra material, anyway.
He wanted it to be longer, but I put my foot down.
It's a dumb tradition, and everyone knows he has money.
He doesn't need my dress to show it off.
I have to unzip the dress and peel it off before I can even think of fitting into the dressing room, but Elira holds a sheet up to keep me modest, turning her head as I step out in just my panties to slip into the room.
"You good?" she asks, and I grunt my response because I’m too busy locking the door and checking my phone.
Stepan: 3:48 PM: Still thinking about you in that dress.
Marina: 3:50 PM: What if I told you I'm not in the dress anymore...
Stepan: 3:50 PM: Then I'd be thinking about you out of it.
I look at myself in the mirror. My skin is flushed, my hair falling out of its clip.
I pick up the phone, angle it, and take a quick picture.
The angle isn't quite right, and my nipples aren't hard, so I pinch them and then I take another one.
This one is perfect, and I know Stepan will appreciate it, so I insert it into a message and hit Send.
My hands are shaking as I wait for his response to me. I fumble with my bra, attempting to put it on as my phone buzzes again. This time it's a flame emoji and a devil. The rush I get has me sweating as my phone buzzes again.
Stepan: 3:51 PM: More please... Show me your ass.
I grin at the phone and snap my bra, then turn away from the mirror. With just a little bend at the waist and the camera positioned over my shoulder, I snap a picture of my reflection and it's perfect. My ass is on display for him.
I have never done such risky things before and it feels even more dangerous given that I'm in a bridal shop trying on wedding dresses as I send nudes to a man who is very much not my betrothed.
Stepan: 3:52 PM: Holy fuck, Marina... You're making my dick so hard. I want to come.
I snicker and set the phone down. I hear Elira out there pacing, probably having yet another glass of champagne as she waits for me.
I don't have the stomach for it today or else I'd have had my own four glasses.
But I've been feeling tired and a bit moody.
Adding alcohol to that mix on a day I have to do wedding stuff seemed like a bad idea.
Slipping into my red dress, I hear the phone buzz again and glance at it. It's definitely Stepan, but it takes me a few seconds to get my heels on and my hair straight before I shoulder my purse and check the messages.
Stepan: 3:55 PM: I'm outside the shop. Come out.
Stepan: 3:55 PM: Now.
Marina: 3:55 PM: You're here??
"Mari?" Elira asks, tapping lightly. "You doing okay?"
I ignore her to read the next message he sends which makes my heart race.
Stepan: 3:56 PM: I've been here for twenty minutes. And now I'm looking at those pictures and I need you to come outside before I come in there.
It makes me feel so flustered, I fumble with the door latch and when I pull the door open, my best friend is there staring at me. She reads my face in about two seconds.
"What is it?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder. Her tone is hushed, which means she knows something is going on.
"He's here," I say. "Outside."
"Who?" she gasps. "Maksim?"
"No... Stepan." I bite my lower lip and again I'm pleading silently with her with nothing but my eyes. She is the one who encouraged me to have an adventure, and here I am, honestly having the adventure of my life. It's just a mortal sin or something and I have to hide it from everyone.
"You're kidding."
"I'm not kidding. I sent him pictures." My voice almost squeaks as I step into the hallway, which is now empty of that gaudy dress. The seamstress dragged it away to put it on a hanger and I couldn't be happier. I seriously hate it.
"What kind of pictures?" Elira raises one eyebrow and her lips rise in a half smile.
"The kind you don't send from a bridal shop to a man I'm not engaged to." I lift both of my eyebrows to her and she snickers.
"You naughty girl," she says playfully, looking toward the door. "But we have more shopping to do."
She's right. We still have to pick shoes and a veil. Not to mention her dress still has to be chosen. Maksim gave me a price range and a color, but the rest is up to us. This could take hours, and I don’t want to make Stepan wait hours.
Besides, when I'm done, I'm likely to be very tired from all of this crap.
I whimper and push out my bottom lip. "Ten minutes?" I feel like I’m asking my mother permission to play video games or something, not this. I'm literally asking my best friend if I can skip out on her for a few minutes to go have sex with a paramour I shouldn’t be around.
"Go," she says, "but don't take too long... And when you get back, be ready to relive it in detail so I can live vicariously."
"Elira—"
"I'll cover for you. Go..." She winks, and I shove my purse into her hands as I kiss her on the cheek.
"God, I love you!" I whisper before turning to rush off.
Stepan's car is parked around the side of the building in the alley where no foot traffic or cars pass by.
It's off and the windows are tinted, and the instant I walk up to the passenger door, I see him inside.
His dick is out and in his hand, and he sits looking at the image of my bare tits, stroking himself.
He looks pleased to see me when I open the door, though he's seated on the passenger seat like he's been expecting me, and he pulls me in, forcing me to straddle him right away.