Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I walk toward her slowly, my whole body roaring to claim her. “You shouldn’t say things like that, even as a joke.” My dick throbs, my balls pulse, my body burns and tingles like my woman has just drugged me.
“Does it make you wild, hmm?” She playfully nudges me. Then she takes on an old-timey voice, like an actress from the thirties. “But sir, why, I am just a virgin.”
I smirk and wrap my arms around her, savoring the softness of her lips and the gorgeous noises she makes every time we kiss. She wraps her arms around me and then lays her cheek against my chest. “That kiss felt different.”
“Different, how?” I ask.
“I don’t know, more… affectionate.”
My heart pounds almost violently. I know she was going to say the word “loving.” That should make me want to run, but it does the opposite. Maybe she has a point. It’s not like my desire has disappeared, but perhaps this kiss had something else, something less savage, that makes me think of the future.
“Should I try the others on?” she says.
“There’s no need. You’ve found your dress.”
CHAPTER 22
DAHLIA
“Ihate parties,” Ania says, sitting at the vanity unit and dabbing her face with a foundation brush.
I sit in the opposite unit. We’re in what seems like some aristocratic woman’s preparation area, with several sinks, vanity units, and all kinds of makeup. “It should be okay,” I murmur, thinking of what Dimitri said. Be ready, but he still won’t tell me what for.
Mila sits on a short, cushioned couch to the side, staring at the floor bitterly. She picks her fingernails with one hand, and then the other hand attacks the first, then back again. She’s already wearing her outfit, a plain dress, nothing like mine or Ania’s. Ania wears what is almost like a prom dress, with a built-in corset and bright, vibrant fabrics. It makes her look like a princess.
“Mila, why don’t you wear something beautiful?” Ania says. “You’re beautiful, so you might as well.”
I gently apply some light makeup. I’ve never been much good at it, but I don’t want to be the one left out. I’m unsure if that’s a good reason to wear makeup. Dimitri told me he doesn’t care if I do. You’re naturally perfect, he said, right before I came in here to get ready.
Yesterday, he was out all day, so I painted and waited for him, and I just kept waiting. He was in the city. He crept in late at night and then collapsed next to me. I stayed awake for too long, listening to his breath and feeling his warm body press against my cheek through his shirt.
Mila takes a long time to respond. Her voice is sharp when she does, jolting me from my thoughts. “I don’t want to look pretty tonight.”
“Mila,” I whisper, not wanting to upset her further. “I can ask Dimitri to—”
“You think this is about Dimitri?”
“Well, maybe you can ask Mikhail—”
Mila suddenly jumps to her feet, glaring at me. “Just leave it, okay?”
“Where are you going?” Ania asks when she walks toward the door.
“Waiting outside. Is that okay with you?”
Ania huffs once she’s slammed the door. “Jeez, sorry.”
“She’s probably worried about seeing her dad,” I say. “Let’s cut her some slack.”
Ania shivers. “Yeah, I get that. Dads are confusing.”
Whenever Dimitri talks about their late father, he never sounds confused. He sounds hard and confident about it. He sounds like a man who, if his father were suddenly to come back to life, he’d happily kill him again.
“I don’t think Mila’s confused,” I say. “I think she hates him, plain and simple.”
“What about her mom?” Ania asks.
“What about her?”
“Where is she? What is she doing?”
“I…” After a pause, I admit, “I don’t know. I know she has a brother.”
“Maybe she wanted nothing to do with her, like my mom,” Ania says quietly.
“You never knew her?” I ask.
Ania keeps dabbing makeup. I can see her in the third mirror in the vanity unit, a reflection in a reflection. “Dad admits… admitted she was a sex worker. He said he couldn’t marry her but wanted her to help raise me. She wasn’t interested.”
“Maybe she had her own problems,” I say.
“Maybe.”
After a while, we’re both ready.
“You look amazing,” Ania says, rushing over and adjusting my dress.
I look at myself in the mirror. Suddenly, knowing I’m going out in public like this, the dress feels far more revealing. It’s mostly the cleavage. It’s not crazy. I noticed that after the adjustments, it covers up a little more. It’s still more than I’m used to.
“Are you okay?” Ania asks.
“It seems silly, but…” It is silly compared to what Mila is going through, and considering that tonight, I have to be ready for something, even if I have no idea what it is. “Do I look fat?”