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“Your man?” She nods to Markus, who is chatting with a guy at the booze table while pouring wine. “Is he good in bed?”
“I heard you the first time.” I straighten and take a sip of the pink concoction. “God, has everyone lost their inhibitions tonight?”
“C’mon, between us girls. No one else is listening.”
I glance around. And she’s right. Everyone is preoccupied with their own thing. The guy next to me is busy flirting with a cute woman, and the room is too loud for anyone further away to hear. So why not. I’ve barely had any girl talk for months and could use some.
“Yeah,” I say, my lips curling up in a broad smile. “He really is.”
“I thought so,” she says with a self-satisfied nod. “He’s got this confidence about him that only a few men can pull off. And those who do”—she pulls air in through rounded lips—“they tend to deliver between the sheets.”
“Is that your type too? Confident men?”
“Well, sometimes. It depends on my mood. I have been through quite a few conductors. They all have the same authority that tends to attract me. Great sex. But once you leave the bed, things get messy. They need control everywhere they turn.” She sips her drink and adds, “Damn control freaks, the whole lot of them.”
A nagging thought shoots into my head.Has she been with Grigory?
It shouldn’t matter. I know he’s not seeing anyone else, and Lucia is too loud for him. Yet, I remember Markus telling me Grigory stopped going after submissives for a while after his ex, so maybe…
I can’t stop the words from blurting out. “Grigory too?”
“God, no. That man takes arrogance to new heights. I don’t think he could ease up for even a second. Besides, he’s impossible to get into bed. I know several women who have tried. It doesn’t matter how big their breasts or how pretty their eyes are. That man is cold as ice.”
“He can’t be that bad.” I get where she has the idea from. I often found him cold and distant in the beginning. But when it comes down to it, I don’t know anyone more caring than Grigory. Just thinking about those strong arms wrapping around me after he’s broken me apart… there’s no safer place to be, and I find myself staring into space, wishing he were here.
Lucia breaks me from my daydream. “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.” She leans in and whispers behind her hand. “I know his ex.”
My insides curl. I’ve never met the woman, but I already hate her. She was clearly crazy, and anything Lucia has heard is probably turned askew and colored in manipulative lies.
My blood surges hot and livid through my veins, and I bite down on my molars to contain the sudden burst of anger.
Markus plonks down beside me with a glass of wine in hand. “What are you two gals whispering about?” He drags a hand up my thigh. A minute ago, my skin would have heated under his touch, but now I only register it with my eyes.
“Girl talk,” Lucia announces, and the two launch into friendly banter while I sit silently on the side, considering what Lucia said about Grigory’s ex. Normally, Markus would notice the agitation simmering within me, but he must have had too much to drink since I get no narrowing eyes or reassuring squeezes.
I try to fall back into the conversation and lean into Markus, but everything is half-hearted. I can’t get my mind to return to the room. It’s stuck on Grigory, his ex, and everything that’s happened over the past six months.
As midnight closes in, the air fills with excitement and popping sounds as people open champagne bottles. Markus gets a bottle too, which he pops and pours into champagne flutes.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,” everyone counts. I join in while looking at Markus, finally forgetting about Grigory as I stare into the blue depths of his eyes, full of warmth and love. “Five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year!”
Markus clanks our glasses and drags me in for a deep kiss before I get a chance to take a sip.
The room becomes a raucous din of party horns, excited hollering, and clinking glasses. For a moment, it all disappears—even my nagging thoughts—as Markus deepens the kiss, demanding my complete attention.
“To one more year with the sweetest submissive a man could get.” Markus holds up his flute and clinks it with mine, and I watch him with shy admiration as I take a sip.
“One more year together,” I say. Markus really is the best. I would be the luckiest girl in the world to have another year with him. So why don’t I feel lucky? Why do I keep pining for another man? I feel so ungrateful and undeserving.
“Are you already tired, sweetie?” Markus strokes my cheek, and I realize I must have zoned out as I refocus my eyes on him. “Or are you about to pass out from all those pink drinks?”
“Both,” I say, forcing a smile. “I think I need to go pee.” Bracing a hand on his shoulder, I push up to stand on wobbly legs.
He gets up with me and holds my elbow. “I’ll take you.”
“No, it’s okay. Stay here and enjoy the party.” I gulp past a knot suddenly growing in my throat. I do need to pee, but most of all, I need a minute away from all of this—including Marcus.
I stagger to the bedroom, leaning on walls and door frames as I go. Now that I’m on my feet, I feel the full effect of the alcohol, and I must say I’m drunker than I thought.
