Chapter 14
F or which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me? - William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
Emma
I didn’t dare move.
I kept my eyes closed and held my breath.
Listening for any sounds of movement.
After several minutes, I peeked through the lashes of one eye. All I could see was a blur of white and gold from the bedcovers. Risking it, I opened and shut both eyes.
Nothing.
No one was beside me in bed.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t in the shower.
Once more I held my breath and listened.
All was quiet and still.
Keeping my eyes closed, I feigned sleep and rolled over.
Again, I flashed my eyes open, then closed.
The door to the bathroom was open. I could glimpse the large glass-enclosed shower chamber, and it was empty.
I didn’t think Dimitri was here.
Still, he could be downstairs.
I wriggled my toes. Fuck. I really needed to pee. Briefly I considered holding it till I got back to my apartment, but tossed that idea aside.
Seriously, how did women do this?
Waking up in a man’s bed.
I was a complete ball of nerves. I had no idea where I had left my clothes. I was certain my hair was a tangled mess of knots and I needed a toothbrush.
I glanced over at the indentation on the pillow next to me.
Sparing another quick glance around the bedroom, I leaned over and sniffed the soft fabric. It smelled like sandalwood and tobacco. It smelled like him.
Maybe this was why women were okay waking up in a strange room unafraid to get out of bed to go pee? Waking up to the masculine musky smell of a man while you laid warm and safe cuddled up in his bed made it all worth it.
The images of last night’s debauchery relentlessly assailed me.
The feel of Dimitri’s goatee against my cunt as he’d licked and laved at my clit till I’d had a second screaming orgasm as I’d laid draped half naked on top of his desk.
The snap and sting of pain from his belt as he had playfully swatted at my ass as I ran up the stairs to his bedroom.
Him pounding into me from behind as he’d pulled my hair and wrapped his hands around my throat.
It was all so wanton and kinky.
Until Dimitri, I’d had no idea I was even capable of such illicit behavior.
I mean, sure, I’d read about it in romance novels.
Pictured myself as the lady captive tied to the pirate’s bed as he ravished me.
Or the brazen villager who slapped the face of the Viking raiding her home only to be thrown against a wall and fucked senseless.
Or my favorite, the shy governess who turned out to be a spirited challenge to the moody, reclusive duke.
In my imagination I was always sexually confident, willing to try anything in bed, but never in a million years had I thought I would ever act on that in actual life!
For heaven’s sake, I had begged the man to fuck me last night.
And worse, for him to make it hurt .
That was the part I really couldn’t wrap my mind around. How turned on I got when he spanked me. Or when he used his superior height and strength to bend me to his will.
Take your clothes off.
Oh, my God!
I was getting wet just remembering the outrageous command.
Only an extremely arrogant, sexy-as-hell man like Dimitri could pull off making such a brazen demand from a woman.
In the firelight, with his strong muscular physique, shaved head, and roguish beard, he could easily have passed for a pirate Viking lord.
And when he spoke Russian!
I could not understand what he was saying, and it didn’t matter. The deep guttural growls sufficed to send my mind reeling and my body over the edge.
Even after all the rough handling and kinky sex, he’d been thoughtful enough to order us food.
It had been surreal sitting up naked in his bed eating a burger and splitting a side of fries like two teenagers.
It surprised me when he even got a chocolate milkshake.
Somehow it was hard to picture my big scary Russian boyfriend with a sweet tooth.
Was he my boyfriend?
Did I even want him to be?
The man practically admitted he was a criminal, a murderer even. He had made it clear I was not allowed to know anything about his work or family. Could you really have a meaningful relationship with someone like that?
Maybe I was overthinking this.
He was the first man I’d ever slept with, and already I was wondering what kind of china pattern was appropriate for a wedding to a Russian crime boss.
Hadn’t I read countless books in my life to know better than to become the shy girl who fell in love with the first guy who gave her the time of day? That rarely ended well for the girl.
Enough!
I needed to get out of this bed and stop thinking about everything that happened in it and out of it last night.
Slipping out of the bed, I tiptoed across the room to the bathroom.
Still not sure if he was somewhere in the house, I pushed the door closed as softly as possible.
Flicking the lock, I raced over to the toilet.
Second-guessing myself, I ran back to double-check the lock before finally sitting down.
As I reached for the faucet to wash my hands, I noticed the diamond bracelet on my wrist.
Blinking several times, I stared at it as if I expected it to vanish like a mirage.
Careful not to get the bracelet wet, I toyed with it as I walked back into the bedroom. Spinning it around my wrist and watching the early morning sun cast tiny rainbows over the diamond facets.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember him putting this on my wrist. I couldn’t blame the champagne.
At most I had been a little buzzed at the restaurant, which loosened my tongue to devastating results, but I hadn’t drunk enough to not recall someone putting what looked like a crazy expensive bracelet on my wrist!
I kept spinning it, but I couldn’t see where it clasped. It looked like just one continuous thick band of silver and diamonds.
Perplexed, I peered around the room to decide what I should do next.
It was then I noticed a small lounge area with two chairs and a coffee table. Draped over the back of one chair were my belongings.
Grateful not only for the clothes but for something that was familiar and my own, I scrambled to put on the bra, sweater, and skirt, keeping my eye on the open bedroom doorway the entire time, expecting a tall Russian to come sauntering through at any moment.
Despite getting on my hands and knees and looking under the chair, I couldn’t find my panties.
Darn it. This was a full set from Victoria’s Secret. An unusual splurge for me.
It seemed funny that I was complaining about losing a fifteen-dollar pair of panties when I had a bracelet that was probably worth at least a couple thousand on my wrist.
Sitting in the chair to zip up my boots, I belatedly noticed the handwritten note on the table with the Cartier box next to it.
Checking the box to see if there were any instructions on how to remove the bracelet, I picked up the note and gasped when I saw the five crisp hundred-dollar bills under it.
My stomach twisted into a humiliated knot. Feeling angry and sick, I focused on the note, hoping the money didn’t mean what I thought it did.
His handwriting was atrocious!
I could barely make out the heavily slanted scrawl. Plus, it seemed he wrote everything all in lowercase. Walking over to the window, I held the page up for more sunlight and read.
Emma,
You looked too beautiful to waken. I had an early morning meeting I could not reschedule. Please help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I left you money for cab fare and breakfast if you wanted to dine out. I will call you later. I got your cell number from Mary. I’ve already texted you mine.
Dimitri
P.S. Don’t take the bracelet off. I want to see you wearing it when I see you tonight.
P.P.S. I’m keeping your panties.
I blushed at the last line.
How had he gotten Mary’s cell number? Oh, right, as I lay cuddled up in his arms, he had asked me for her number so he could text her that I was spending the night. It was such a thoughtful gesture, I’d fallen asleep with this warm feeling in my belly.
The man really was a frustrating ball of contradictions.
Arrogant super scary bully one minute.
Thoughtful and generous the next.
At least the money wasn’t on the dresser money.
Although someone should sit Dimitri down and explain to him the value of the American dollar. A girl didn’t need five hundred dollars for cab fare and an Egg McMuffin! Wishing he had left smaller bills, I reluctantly took one of the hundred-dollar bills, vowing I would pay him back.
After leaving the bedroom, I ran back and snatched up the Cartier box before heading downstairs.
Maybe there was an item number somewhere in the packaging that I could look up online.
The man couldn’t honestly expect me to walk around with a diamond bracelet on my wrist all day.
I wasn’t a Kardashian. Diamonds didn’t go with broke student chic .
Shaking my head, for the thousandth time I wondered what he saw in me.
Clearly, he saw a different, far sexier and adventurous version of me than I did.
* * *
Pulling my sleeve down over my wrist to cover the bracelet, I sheepishly handed the cab driver the hundred-dollar bill as I bit my lip, bracing for the barrage of curse words I knew were coming my way.
“I can’t take this! You have nothing smaller?”
“I’m really sorry! I could run inside and get my purse if you want?”
The man sighed. I cringed. I really hated inconveniencing the driver this way.
If it were my money, I might have even been guilted into telling him to keep the change, but I’d already done that once this week and it had cost me my coffee money till next month.
Plus, this technically wasn’t my money, it was Dimitri’s.
The man slammed each bill into my palm as he gruffly counted out the change.
Holding a fist up to my mouth, my shoulders hunched as I squeaked out, “And a receipt, please.”
After catching the slight slip of paper that he threw at me, I exited the cab with a ‘thank you’ shouted over my shoulder.
Reflexively pulling on my sweater sleeve, I entered my building only to be greeted by complete chaos. Several large gruff men with construction tools passed me in the hallway. The clamor of bodies and activity got louder as I turned the corner.
Our apartment door was wide open, and I could hear Mary shouting.
“Careful with that! It’s an original Buffy the Vampire Slayer signed script!”
Crossing the threshold, my brow creased as my jaw fell. Our tiny space was filled with men. They had removed the blinds over our windows. There was the sound of electric drills rending the air.
“Heads up, lady,” came a gruff, heavily accented voice from above me.
Tilting my head back, I saw a man on a ladder drilling several holes into the drywall. Sitting in a box on top of the ladder seemed to be some sort of security system.
“Emma!” cried out Mary. “Thank God you’re finally here!”
While still cradling her framed Buffy script to her chest, with her free hand she grabbed my arm and pulled me deeper into the apartment. It was too loud to talk in the living room, so she dragged me to her bedroom and shut the door. It was only marginally quieter in there.
Gesturing to the door, I asked, “What is going on?”
Shoving several perfume bottles and scarves aside, Mary propped the script up against her vanity mirror before turning excited blue eyes on me.
“It’s the craziest thing. At the ungodly hour of seven o’clock, there’s a knock on our door.
I open it to find this drop dead gorgeous man dressed in the most expensive suit I’ve ever seen. ”
Mary tilted her chin down and continued in an exaggerated Russian voice. “Iz zees the aparrrtment of Eeema Doyle, he says. I said yes. Then he says, my name iz Vaska.”
Grabbing her hands, I implored her, “You sound like Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle . Just tell me what the hell is going on in your normal voice.”
Mary pouted. “Spoilsport. Fine.”
Apparently, while I was sleeping, Dimitri had arranged for a small army of men to come to our apartment to install new door locks, a security system, and bars on the windows.
“Some men send flowers after a night of passionate sex. Yours sends a high-tech security system,” giggled Mary.
“This isn’t funny, Mary. This can’t be normal!”
“Sweetie, what about your entire relationship has been normal?”
She had a good point, but still… I wasn’t sure how I felt about all this.
It seemed a bit controlling and overreaching to me.
First, he demanded he be the only one paying my tuition and now this.
I self-consciously tugged on my sweater sleeve, which reminded me of the heavy piece of jewelry shackled to my wrist… oh, yeah… and the diamonds!
I didn’t have much experience with men, but this certainly wasn’t how any of my friends’ relationships ever went.
Looking at the digital clock by her bed, I cried out, “I will be late for class! Crap, I need to shower. I can’t shower with all these men here!”
Mary gestured to the far wall in her bedroom, on the other side of which was our elderly neighbor. “Do what I did. Go over to Mrs. York’s and use her bathroom.”
“Good idea!”
Mary followed me back to my room, where we both had to step around a pile of wrought-iron bars that were meant for the windows.
As I dove into my closet, searching for something to wear, I called out, “Do you think it will piss the landlord off we did all this?”
Mary waved her hand in the air. “Who cares! The guy’s an asshole. Besides, I’m kind of happy about the additional security.”
She had a point. It thrilled neither of us to be living on a ground-floor apartment, but it was the best we could afford.
Still…
An hour later, I was racing across the quad to class.
As I took my seat, I finally spared a glance at my phone to shut the ringer off.
There was a text from an unfamiliar number.
Good morning, моя крошка.
There was no doubt who it was from… Dimitri.
Just reading the words sent a shiver up my spine as if he had whispered them in my ear.
Slouching down in my chair, I yanked on my turtleneck sleeve to cover the bracelet I still couldn’t unlatch.
I was in over my head.
Dimitri was playing a sophisticated game of chess, and I was over here playing checkers.
Maybe it was time to end our mismatched game before it was too late?