Page 34 of Pay the Piper

“Which do you prefer?”

Wrapping the braid around my fist twice, I tug until the back of her head hits my chest, then cradle her jaw. It barely takes any pressure to have her turning up to face me, pupils blown and that fucking lip raw from being between her teeth.

“I like to throw people over the cliff, darling, then drag them back up again, and again, and again.”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to take her now, mold her to the shape of my arms, my cock, and hoard her away from the world until I could make good on my promise. But she needs to choose me. I won’t take, especially not after what she’s hinted at.

Thumbing at her lip just once, I release her braid and ease off the bench, enjoying the slight wobble in her posture as she realizes how much of her weight I was supporting. Grabbing both of our bags, I walk her to the car as always. Before she leaves, I make my offer.

“You’ve done an excellent job teaching me how to skate, Abby. I’m usually not the student, though. I’m an excellent teacher with endless patience and experience, and I’m quite proud of it. It would be my honor to repay you, at least a little, and help you learn how pleasure is supposed to be.”

“Misha, I—”

“Take the weekend and think it over. If not, I promise, it won’t be awkward, and we can continue like this.”

It will be awkward, and the kidnapping will probably piss you off, but eventually, you’ll understand…

“But if you give me a chance, I promise you won’t regret it.”

Chapter 15

I can’t sleep. What the actual hell. This is the third night in a row, and I’ve been tossing and turning for hours. My mind isn’t racing anxiously like on other nights when I struggle to rest. No, there’s only one thing, one person on my mind. In fact, I couldn’t think about anything other than him, if I wanted to. Misha. His touch, his voice, his breath on my neck…

My mind might not race, but it has wandered, taking me down paths of forbidden pleasure it hasn’t dared to journey on in years. I’m not a robot. Or at least I haven’t always been. I was human once. I experienced the effect that desire has on your body…the tingles, the yearning, the aching deep in your core that only a lover can soothe. But that was long ago. Before I got married and was trained not to associate anything even remotely pleasurable with sex.

The story of The Princess and the Pea comes to mind. It was one my mom used to read to me all the time when I was younger because it’s always taken me forever to get comfortable.

“Are you sure there isn’t a pea under your mattress, Abby? If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re a princess in hiding,” my mom would say as she tucked me in for the hundredth time.

“Of course she’s a princess! She’s my princess. Isn’t that right?” A kiss on my forehead from my dad was always what would calm me enough to fall asleep.

God, I miss them. Both of my parents taught me what it truly meant to be loved, but it was my dad who made me feel safe. I never felt that with Conor. Despite everything that came along with his Prince Charming act, I should have known. But what can I say? I was young and dumb.

I feel it with Misha, though. I know I would sleep soundly in his arms. Despite knowing he’s involved with a family crime, despite the rugged look about him, despite everything, I know he’s safe. Every cell, every atom, every fragment of my being knows intrinsically that he is a refuge for my battered soul.

I finally give up. With an exaggerated huff, I reach for my phone. It’s already four in the morning, and there’s no way I’m going to be ready for today’s skate practice in a few hours. I hate to cancel, but without sleep, I’ll be no use to Misha anyway, and exhausted skating can lead to injury. Seeing his name in my phone sends a current of electricity straight to my core, and I can’t stop the whine that escapes as I replay our last memory for the thousandth time this weekend. We do both have the day available now…and I’ve never heard of any sex-related injury due to exhaustion. At least not from an exhausted receiver, and the way Misha was talking…

Me: I’m in. No skate practice today. I want you to teach me instead.

There, it’s sent. Can’t do anything about it now. I mean, I can. I could edit the text. Or just unsend it altogether. Maybe I should. It’s kinda last minute and—

My phone pings before I can take any further action.

Misha: I will teach you any and everything you want, lesnaya. When and where would you like to meet?

Um…I haven’t thought that through. When? Is right now an option? No, no, I need to get ready and maybe have something on my stomach, if I can even bring myself to eat…

Me: Late morning should be fine

The arena where we usually meet isn’t necessarily the most romantic place. Not that I would care since he definitely got me hot in the locker room on Friday. But I don’t think I’m ready to invite him over.

Misha: Will 11 work for you? If not, any other time is fine.

Me: 11 will be perfect. Idk where, though…

Misha: You’re welcome to come to my place. Or I can come to you.

Misha: Or if you aren’t comfortable with either of those, I can book a neutral spot.