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“I can’t go out like this,” I whine. It’s a pathetic sound, but he’s left me no choice.
“You can pout, Pchelka, but you’ll pout with your ass bare and plugged. Now, get your shoes so we can go.” He kisses me on the cheek, then heads to the bathroom with his tools.
“This isn’t normal, Luka. You know that, right?” I call after him.
“You’re worth more than normal, Pchelka. Why would I ever do anything less than you’re worth?”
How the hell am I supposed to answer that?
Avery
“You rented out the entire rooftop?”I’m gawking up at Luka when the hostess welcomes us to one of the city’s most popular rooftop bars overlooking Times Square.
“No, not the entire thing. Just this section,” Luka explains, waving at the section behind us.
“That’s the indoor section, Luka. You’ve rented out the entire patio.” I follow behind him and the hostess until we reach the farthest seats from the entrance. He stands to the side so I can maneuver between the lounge sofa and the sleek glass coffee table to sit down. I look through the glass wall down at the city below. Times Square is a living, breathing thing, and the pulse is fast tonight.
“Would you like menus?” the hostess offers.
“No. Bring us two cheese charcuteries and an order of your spiced almonds.” He unbuttons his suit jacket and sits beside me on the lounge. “Also, a whiskey neat and a cranberry and vodka,” he orders, gesturing toward me for the last drink.
“Of course. I’ll be right back with those.” With a short nod, she escapes to get our drinks.
“You ordered a whiskey. I thought Russians liked vodka.” I resettle myself on the cushions, every move reminding me of the plug.
“We do, but I’m not going to sit here and do shots with you.” He smiles softly and brings his arm to rest on the back of the lounge so he can look directly at me without having to turn his head.
“You don’t sip it?”
He makes a face like I’ve just suggested he run it through a dirty sock first. “No, Pchelka. Shots of vodka. Sips of whiskey.” He picks up a few strands of my hair and rubs them between his fingers.
“But you ordered me a vodka.”
“I ordered you a cranberry and vodka. It’s different when you drink it that way.” He touches my cheekbone. “Don’t gulp it. It’ll be stronger than you think.”
“You don’t think I can handle my liquor?” I tease.
“I’m not willing to test it tonight.” He winks then looks down at the cushion beneath my ass. My cheeks flare with heat.
“You don’t need to comment on it.” I turn away from him. “The lights are so bright down here at night.”
“You’ve never been here at night?” he asks while the waitress brings our drinks, places them down, and leaves.
“No. Between working and school, I don’t have much of a social life.” I frown and reach for my drink. “Wow, that’s good!” I smack my lips and take another sip.
“Slow, Pchelka.” He reaches over and takes the glass from me, placing it on the table. “Eat something.” He pushes one of the boards filled with sliced cheeses and meats toward me.
“You’re always shoving food at me,” I mutter, but pick up a slice of meat with a slice of white cheese. I have no idea what I’m eating, but the flavor combination is spot on. Plus, I haven’t eaten since the peanut butter sandwich I snagged from the cafeteria before my library shift. So he could probably feed me anything at this point, and I’d melt.
“Your damn stomach is always growling,” he shoots back at me with a playful scowl and lifts his chin toward the board. “If you eat, you won’t get drunk.”
“And if I get drunk you can’t…” I completely lose my nerve. “Do what you said you were going to do.”
He laughs. “Ah, you almost made it a full sentence.” He takes a sip of his whiskey.
“Not everyone likes to talk the way you do.” I shove another piece of cheese in my mouth. Damn, this is too good. I’d ask what sort of cheese it is, but I have a feeling they aren’t selling it in the discount section at my store.
He leans toward me. “You like when I say dirty things, Pchelka.” His tongue runs along the shell of my ear. “You love when I tell you how good my cock feels buried in your pussy.”
