Page 49 of The Arrangement

Anton did look up then, his eyes piercing into hers with registering surprise and desire. “Never?”

“No one, ever. Like I said, a healthy exploration. I’ve tried some things, so I know what I like. And today, you’re the one with the remote.”

“I am, aren’t I? Shit.” He fixed her thong and pants before letting her stand up again. The remote was slipped into his pocket as she turned in his embrace. Viviana could see the battle raging in Anton’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t want that with me?”

“No … God, no, it’s not that.”

The quiet murmur of anxiety crept up her spine with a cold grip. “I just thought—”

“Shut up. Shut those pretty lips of yours right up,” Anton muttered, eyes flashing down at her in warning. “Of course I want that with you, yes. I just … damn. What happened to that innocent girl in Barbados who hadn’t even kissed a boy until she met me; where did that girl go? I’m not saying it’s not okay she grew up, but sometimes this is a serious mind fuck for me, okay?”

“Okay. I get that.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but where did she go?” he repeated, lips curving with the most sinful grin.

Viviana returned the gesture, letting her fingers dance up the silky material of his shirt before replying, “She wasn’t all that innocent. After all, she agreed to marry you.”

Chapter Eleven

Anton chuckled as Viviana’s eyes widened at the sight staring back at her. The upstairs office inside Seven Lights had been all but turned inside out for her the evening before. It had taken some serious wrangling on his part, and Ivan’s wife, to get what they needed, but it had come together, despite the craziness over the last few days. Now, the entire office was filled with clothes, shoes, and whatever else his lover might like.

The office was a good twenty by twenty in size. Anton liked it a little bigger than usual, seeing as how when his men came in to pay their tributes, they always seemed to stay and chat. Another would arrive, and the same thing would follow suit. A dozen cigars later and the club would be closed, but the raucous, loud laughter would still be banging out from his office above.

There was no denying he liked it. Of course he did, it was all he ever knew. Even at five years old with droopy eyes and little understanding as to what was happening around him, Anton could remember sitting perched on his father’s or step-grandfather’s legs. He learned some of the dirtiest Russian slang before he even understood English completely.

“What do you think?”

Viviana gaped a little more. “It’s …”

“Vine?”

Still, he got nothing.

Unable to stop himself, Anton found the little remote hidden in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and pressed the first gentle speed. Her jerk of surprise as the toy turned on did the wickedest of things to his insides.

“Anton!”

A shrug fell flippantly from his shoulders and he turned it back off. “You wanted to play this game, baby.”

“I’m …” Her eyes closed as she breathed heavily. “I will take that remote away from you.”

Anton grinned slyly, turning away. No, she wouldn’t. Viviana had a dirty streak he hadn’t even thought to consider, but now that he knew … well, the boss was going to have some fun. The sexiest of sights had been in his car as they drove through the city on their way to Brighton Beach. It was clear that with every little jostle or bump of the tires, Viviana was just barely hanging on to the ledge of control. He desperately wanted to see her lose it, but Anton wanted it to be his cock that did it to her, too.

“How does that feel, having your own body fucking you like that?”

Fuck, the way her quiet moan couldn’t quite be hidden when he pressed that button on again just about did him in. How he hadn’t already shot off a load inside his pants, Anton wasn’t quite sure.

“Are you going to answer me, now? Do you like the clothes?”

Viviana simply looked around again. Anton understood it was a little much for her, probably. In fact, he might have overdone it a bit, but he really had no clue as to her personal preferences and styles when it came to clothing. Especially dress wear.

So, he had just about a little bit of everything brought in from shops across New York. Only the best names with price tags that would make someone’s heart stutter. She could pick what she wanted for the evening, but the rest had already been bought and paid for by him. His office had suddenly turned into a clothing store. Garment bags hung off several dress racks, boxes of designer shoes sitting opened on leather couches and chairs, and the glittering gems of crystals reflecting light off the many clutches on the desk.

Underdressed she would not be. The only thing he wanted her to do was enjoy the night. And if that meant dropping a few thousand dollars—more like twentyish—so that she could pick through whatever it was she wanted to wear, that was exactly what he would do.

Anton was a giver, after all.