Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kazimir
I wasn’t a creature of sentiment and nostalgia, nor did I believe in memorabilia. I experienced what was in my presence and if, for any reason, I was in the mood for a repeat, I simply recreated the experience, but one look at her face and I knew this was a moment I wanted to immortalize.
I had questioned my decision and was a hair's breadth from backing out last minute, but looking at her now, I knew it would’ve been the worst mistake of my life.
Divine was hardly the word to describe her, but it did better than the generic adjectives. That dress wrapped around her in a way that flattered her curves without being vulgar, and the shoes? I never knew I had a thing for long legs in heels till I saw her strutting towards me.
“I look like a child in Disneyland.”
My lips tilted. She did look like a ten-year-old riding her first wave of dopamine, but it was the most unguarded and most pure I’ve seen her too.
“You look perfect.” The words materialized before I could give the permission.
She looked at me, eyes searching my face for a very brief moment before returning back to the picture.
“Mail it to me and make sure it retains its quality.”
I cocked a brow. “I take you on one date and you start giving me orders?”
The cast had gathered on the stage, but I knew they weren’t the reason she couldn’t look back at me.
Even through the dim lights, I could see the tips of her ears glowing red and her hair forming a soft curtain around her face.
My smirk turned into a full smile, but I didn’t bother her anymore.
The opera started and God knows I tried everything possible to follow through, but I simply couldn’t.
Every scene drew a reaction from her, and her soft sighs, giggles and sharp intakes of breath slowly became my own opera.
And by the time the show ended, I could hardly recall the names of the characters, but I could easily recount her expression to every scene and the face she made when it got to a part she didn’t particularly like.
“Did you see how he admitted to killing him?” Gen asked as we made our way out. “I expected him to convey it with more emotion. I hate Burr so much, but the character was so handsome I didn’t know how to feel.”
My smile turned sour faster than a breath freezes in winter.
“They could’ve made Alexander more good-looking and then I could’ve hated Burr to his best potential.”
“Handsome?”
“Yeah,” she continued, barely looking my way. “I hate when villains are good-looking. Makes it difficult to hate them.”
Against my will and to Lev’s irritation, Nico had once told an elaborate story of how he preferred to watch action, horror or straight-up animation with women because he couldn’t stand listening to them moan about a handsome actor.
I’d thought it was ridiculous to pay attention to something so insignificant and be threatened by a bloke on camera, but here I was, contemplating walking back and redesigning the face of whoever the fuck Burr was.
“It was a great…” Genevieve stopped in her tracks, peering at me with what looked like a mix of worry and confusion. “What is wrong with your face?”
“My face is fine, or would you prefer a different look to it?”
Her frown deepened. “What’s with the attitude?"
My jaw tightened mostly because it was a very good question. “I do not have an attitude.”
“You’re acting like you got your period somewhere between the walk from the booth to this point. That’s hardly not an attitude.”
“Are you done talking about Burr?”
Her brows furrowed, then suddenly, her face loosened like a knot holding back light beams and she exploded into pockets of laughter. “You were jealous of Burr?”
I began walking before she could see the expression on my face. “I refuse to be jealous of a middle-aged man with a mohawk."
Her chuckles intensified as she followed me to the car. “Aw, was it because I called him handsome? Are you jealous because I called Burr handsome? Burr isn’t—”
“I am not jealous and would you stop saying that name.”
She stopped, her eyes holding mine for a moment, and just when I thought she was really about to drop it, her lips stretched and the word came out loud and clear.
“Burr.”
“Ridiculous,” I hissed under my breath, even though I couldn’t say what was ridiculous.
Her childish reaction, or the fact that I was indeed jealous of a middle-aged man in a mohawk.
I opened the car, holding the door open for her. “Get in.”
Genevieve shook her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Admit you were jealous of Burr.”
My head snapped up so fast my vision blurred for a second. “What?”
She shrugged, taking a tiny step back. “Admit you were jealous of Burr or I won’t get into the car.”
I looked around. Genevieve had insisted we stay back for a bit long after the curtains were drawn so she could soak up the experience, hence the near-empty state of the private parking lot.
The near-empty state of the lot did not minimize the effect of her words. I’ve never in my thirty-three years of life been given an ultimatum by anyone, much less a woman.
She smiled, her eyes twinkling as she took another step back.
“You’re going to get into this car, Genevieve, or God help me I’ll carry you into it myself and teach you a lesson or two about defiance.”
Her smile faltered and I didn’t miss the pulse jumping at the base of her neck. She tried to sound confident but failed miserably, her voice barely a squeak.
“You don’t order me. We’re not on the clock.”
My lips curled. “I’m guessing that means I’m not your boss and whatever I do would not count as employee harassment, would it?”
She swallowed, her eyes darting around the lot as though she just realized we were alone; they widened slightly.
“Car, Genevieve. Don’t make me ask twice.”
She hurried past me without a fight, but it was already too late. She already lit a fire inside me.
I could feel the tension in her body as the car rolled out of the opera. I waited till we entered the main road to roll up the partition.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she blurted out the moment the screen went up.
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“I was only teasing you.”
“I know you were.”
A pause went by. “But you were jealous of a man in a mohawk.”
I let out a groan. “I wasn’t jealous. You wouldn’t stop talking about him.”
The car was almost dark, but I could make out her features scrunching. “That’s a lie. I talked about other things, but you were barely paying attention till I mentioned him.”
“I was paying attention,” I said.
“You barely looked at the stage.”
My eyes found her face in the darkness and I said the only thing that came to mind. “I already had my own show.”
The air in the car shifted immediately, pulling tightly at every corner till all that remained was a suffocating tension hanging on a very delicate thread.
“Uhm…” she cleared her throat. “Thank you?”
My lips curved. “It wasn’t a compliment, little bird.”
Her lips shaped into an ‘o’.
“It’s the truth.”
The silence stretched for a bit this time and I could see her struggling with what to make of my comment.
“I enjoyed the show,” she finally said. “Thank you.”
I reached out, taking her hand and pressing my lips into her palm. I’d been wanting to do that the whole night.
A shiver swept through her and settled somewhere deep inside me.
“You’re welcome.”
The car pulled to a stop before either of us could decide what next, and I realized I had completely forgotten to give the driver her address.
She glanced sideways, taking in my house through the window.
“I can tell the driver to take you home if you’re not comfort—”
“It’s alright.”
“Great,” I breathed. “I was going to take you in anyways.”
She chuckled. “So what was the use of asking?”
“I’m practicing how to be a gentleman. Isn’t that what you liked about Burr?”
“Burr?” she scoffed, opening her side of the car. “That brute was hardly gentle.”
I opened the other side, rounding the car to join her. “So you like gentlemen.”
“Depends.”
My lips curled. “On?”
“I don’t know. Time, place…” her eyes dragged to mine. “Occasion.”
My cock stirred to life, but unlike the opera, I made no attempt to calm him.
I opened the door with my fingerprint, following after her. “And what occasion would that be?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Ivanovich. Did you bring me to your home to loosen my lips?”
My lips curled. “I was hoping to loosen something far more intimate, but I guess the lips are a good start.”
She opened her mouth to give a reply, but I beat her to it, sealing my lips over hers and taking the one thing I’ve been wanting the whole night.
Genevieve immediately melted into my touch. Her lips parted, giving me full access to her delicious mouth.
I swept my tongue into her, tasting every corner and reminding myself how addictive she was.
Her body pulled flush against mine, her hands flying to my hair while her tongue wrestled mine in a futile fight for dominance.
I swallowed her moans as they came, my palms roaming and cupping every inch of her.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I muttered against her skin as I dragged my lips from hers to her neck, nibbling and sucking lightly.
Genevieve let out a gasp, followed by a soft thud and clattering noise on the floor as she dropped her purse. Her hands tightened around my hair, tugging while her neck rolled back to offer me more access.
I sank my teeth into the sensitive spot I knew on her neck, causing her to arch even further into me.
My palms dipped, finding her soft boobs and squeezing lightly. I let out a moan when she pushed into my palms, my lips immediately leaving her neck and finding their way to her chest.
We were barely inside the house and I had lost my jacket and found a way to free her boobs from her dress.
“So much for being a gentleman.”
“I never said I was.” I plucked one hardened bud into my mouth, sucking and releasing with a pop. “I only said I was practicing.”
“And whatever happened to that practice?” Her voice was barely a whisper over a ragged breath.
“I decided it was useless.”
I returned my attention to her boobs, rolling one nipple between my fingers while my tongue flicked over the other.