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“He wants to see you again?” Levin asks tersely as we pull into the hotel, and I nod.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Good,” is all Levin replies–but from the tone of his voice, it doesn’t sound very much to me as if he thinks it’s good at all.
—
It doesn’t get easier. The next date that Grisha takes me on is to a restaurant that he says he’s invested in, as per my request–a glossy, modern tapas place that’s good, though I can’t really enjoy the food on account of my nerves. I know what’s going to be expected when we go back to his apartment, and I’m dreading it.
I don’t feel as if I’m accomplishing much. He stays cagey about his work and the details of it, always turning it back to me and my degree program. He talks about how he could invest in the department, to help secure my tenure and position there, about his interest in putting more money into things like that, but everything is couched in vague details about where that money comes from, exactly. It’s all said with the tone of someone who wants to saydon’t worry your pretty little head about it,but knows better than to use those exact words, and it frustrates me to no end. It also makes me want to be around him less and less.
I try to do what Levin suggested, to pry more information out of him after sex, but he falls asleep almost immediately, just like the first night, curled against me with an arm over my stomach.
I don’t bother trying to get up to snoop again, and I turn the phone off, so that Levin can’t call me. If he needs to talk to me, he can do so when he picks me up again in the morning.
It goes on like that for nearly two weeks. Grisha and I see each other almost every other day, and on the days in between, I stay in the hotel room, feeling as if I’m on the verge of climbing the walls with frustration. Levin makes himself scarce, our conversations brief and focused on what I’m finding out about Grisha–or rather what I’mnot–and that frustrates me too, if for no other reason than I want to talk to him and know that I shouldn’t.
I want out. I want this to be over, and I spend the time alone wracking my brain for more ways that I can find the information that Levin needs. Grisha hasn’t let anything spill by accident, and I’m running out of ways to ask him questions that don’t sound suspicious. I haven’t seen mybabushka, and even though Levin allowed me to call her once to check in on her, I’m acutely aware of the loss of that time, too.
My entire life is on hold right now. My classes, my time with my grandmother, my social life–everything. I didn’t have many friends to miss me or for me to miss in return, I was always too busy and focused on other things, but my entire world has narrowed down to this hotel room and the job I’ve been forced into, and I want it to end.
Whatever the outcome, I want my freedom.
Which is why I come up with an idea that I can tell Levin immediately hates, even though he knows it’s a good one.
“I’ll go surprise him at his office,” I tell Levin in the morning, on one of the days that I’m not supposed to see Grisha. “He did tell me where that is. Maybe I can get a glimpse of something on his desk. While–”
“Sure,” Levin says sharply, cutting me off. “I’ll drop you off a few blocks away, and then meet you after. Try to keep a mental note of anything you see. I’ll scope the building out as well–we might be able to send someone in to look around his office after hours. This might help us, Lidiya.”
There’s a faint note of encouragement in his voice, but it’s mostly overshadowed by the bite of jealousy that I hear. Something twists in my gut at the idea of Levin sitting in the car, waiting for me to be finished with Grisha, but it’s followed by the equally bitter thought thatI’m doing this because he said I have to. I shouldn’t have to feel bad about it, too.
The knot in my stomach persists all the way up to Grisha’s office. His secretary looks surprised to see me, and I play it off as well as I can, unsure if she knows who I am. I stand there, on edge, as she calls him and frowns as she sets the phone back down, eyeing me.
“He says to go on in.”
It occurs to me that Grisha might not exactly be happy to see me. I’ve never caughthimoff guard like this, and I don’t know if he’s the sort of man who likes surprises–at least not this kind. But when I open the door and step in, all I see is a pleased, hungry light in his eyes as he stands up and comes around the desk to greet me.
“Lidiya! What a surprise.” He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms for a kiss. “I was about to go on my lunch break, but now that you’re here–”
He raises an eyebrow suggestively, and I force what I hope is a seductive smile onto my face. “That’s exactly why I came. I thought you could use something sweet.”
I’d thought the line might be too much, but he falls for it entirely. “I am very hungry,” he murmurs, starting to back me towards the couch that’s nestled against the back wall of his office, but I stop him, putting my hands on his chest with the most sultry expression I can muster.
“I actually–have a little bit of a fantasy,” I whisper shyly. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about you bending me over your desk, in front of that big window, so I can see you reflected in it while you–”
“What a naughty girl.” Grisha grins, pulling me in for another kiss. “I do want to make all your dreams come true, Lidiya. We can absolutely start there.”
He turns me, backing me towards the desk, which I can see is covered in papers and files. I don’t know how much of it I’m going to get to read, but there’s a reason I’d asked for exactly what I did.
“I don’t have a condom,” Grisha murmurs. “I want to come in you so badly, Lidiya. The thought of sending you home full of my cum–”
“You have to pull out,” I whisper. “We can’t risk–”
“No, you’re right, of course.” His voice sounds slightly strangled. “If you want to go down on me instead–”
“No, I want you inside of me.” It feels almost impossible to force the words out, but I manage it. “Just pull out.”
“I can finish in your mouth?”
