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“Yeah, but with her new boyfriend, Steve, it’s kind of hard to commit to the commute. A lot, I feel like the third wheel when I go down to visit, and I’m just not so sure what to think of the guy. I feel like my mom is just risking getting hurt, and I don’t want her to have to go through that kind of heartbreak again.”
“That seems a little hypocritical to be worrying about your mom getting into a relationship when you’ve got a hunky Russian boyfriend,” Tori teases.
“Yeah, you two have been together for like, what, a year now? That sounds like you’re getting pretty serious. Why shouldn’t your mom be allowed to do the same?” Tammy asks.
“You should be happy for her,” Tori says gently, her hand sliding compassionately across the table toward me.
I play with the handle of my coffee mug, avoiding the twins’ eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”
I don’t correct them about Ilya. I’ve never told them the truth of our arrangement. I get enough shit over our age difference that I’m not about to expose myself to the level of criticism that would come if they knew my relationship with him–as fun as it might be–is strictly a business arrangement.
My mind shifts to the week-long vacation we took together down to the Florida Keys this summer. Jam-packed with hot sex and and beautiful beaches, along with nightclubs that make my ears ring just thinking about them, I have to admit that the lines sometimes seem to blur between us. But Ilya and I have talked openly–and extensively–about what we are to each other.
I’m a means of satiating his desires without the complexities that come with a committed relationship. He told me from the get-go that there’s no room for love in his line of work–it’s just too dangerous. Besides, our agreement will most likely come to an end when I graduate from Rosehill. At that point, I won’t need his help with tuition, and he’ll probably be ready to move on to his next woman by then. He’s said himself that he doesn’t keep his playthings for more than two or three years at a time. Whether that’s to avoid attachment or because he gets bored after a few years, I’m not entirely clear on.
Either way, it works for me. His life has no room for love, and I don’t believe in it anyway. So really, our arrangement is perfect because neither of us is in danger of getting hurt–emotionally that is. Ilya has warned me that being affiliated with him could put me physically in harm’s way. But after knowing Ilya for a year, I doubt anyone would dare fuck with him or me by association. I get the distinct impression that anyone who might have the gall to hurt Ilya’s woman would find themselves dead and rotting in a dumpster that very day.
It really has proven to be a win-win with Ilya. There’s no risk of attachment, but I still get the spine-tingling sex that leaves me a useless puddle of ecstasy for days at a time. It amazes me that my body responds to him so intensely, even now, after a year of role playing, sex clubs, and bondage scenes that make my panties wet just thinking about them. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I wonder if that’s because it’s Ilya, whose made an art of knowing his way around a woman’s body, or if I might find that again someday after our contract ends. I tend to doubt it.
“Look at you, getting all doe-eyed over your Russian hunk,” Tori teases, snapping me out of my reverie.
I snort. “Do you always have to call him that?” I ask.
“Yes,” Tammy cuts in. “I mean, you obviously need a lesson on prioritizing the details of how to describe a person. We didn’t even find out he’s Russian until, what, three months after you started dating? And even then, we only discovered it because I answered your phone while you were in the bathroom.”
“I’m still mad at you about that, by the way,” I say, crossing my arms.
Tammy shrugs.
“All we’re saying is that when your drop-dead-gorgeous man happens to have an accent likethat, you tell your friends,” Tori says.
I laugh, shaking my head at their disgruntled expressions. “I don’t see why it matters.”
“Because we’re vicariously living your hot older-man romance through you, and every detail counts,” Tammy quips.
“You two are ridiculous.”
“I think you mean fun.” Tori raises a finger in stipulation.
“That too.” My phone rings, interrupting our conversation, and I pull it from my pocket.
Ilya’s name flashes across the screen, making my stomach flip.
“Tell your boyfriend I say hi,” Tammy teases, wiggling her fingers at the phone.
I roll my eyes and answer the call, plugging my free ear so I can hear his deep voice. “Hey,” I say brightly.
“Privet, moya feya,” he greets me. “I have bad news.”
“Oh?”
“My business is taking longer than I thought. I won’t be back in town tonight.”
I push aside the sliver of disappointment that wiggles into my chest. He’s been on a business trip for almost a week now, and I’m craving his company. “Oh, okay. How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not sure.”
We exchange a few more words as I work to keep my voice steady, and when I get off the phone, the twins are watching me expectantly.
