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“Entitled, more like it,” he replies.
“Okay, entitled,” I admit. “But that’s fine. We shave down their paychecks a little and use the money for a nicer place. Everybody will be happy.”
“Good idea. Maybe you should shave them down further and give the money to me instead.”
Is that a joke? Fuck, it just might be one.
I laugh. “Okay, if you can convince everyone to give you a dollar, you’ll have… a couple hundred extra dollars a month.”
He shrugs. “More for my retirement.”
I’m surprised he needs any money at all for a retirement. Ivan is the type of person to live under someone’s car like a cat in the winter. His standards are so low that it’s almost insulting to everyone else around him. I still pay him well, since he’s so useful, but I could probably pay him half and he’d be none the angrier.
Just for that, I feel like giving him even more. He’s looking at a nice Christmas bonus for being such a good sport about all this. Managing a facility like this is no easy task.
I pat him on the back before I leave, giving him a few words of encouragement and thanks. He shrugs them off like they mean nothing at all, but I know he appreciates them.
10
Taylor
Idon’t want to say that I’ve missed Danya, but after having my entire body waxed, nails meticulously done, skin scrubbed to the point of agony, and my hair soaked in so much collagen that it feels like water on my shoulders, I’d love to just sit down and eat a meal with the man I’m doing all this for.
I feel like I barely got to see him before he left on his little mystery trip, and he only just got back this evening, the day before our wedding. I feel a little silly running up to him the moment he opens my bedroom door, but after being around women all week, I’m relieved to hear his deep, calm voice again.
“Dinner?” I ask, at a loss for any other words.
My stomach twists as he looks at me, realizing that he hasn’t seen me since I was beautified by a team of highly paid cosmeticians. Will he think I’m too different from the Taylor he agreed to marry?
The idea is ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop my anxious mind from grabbing hold of it and running around in circles in my head. My anxiety has been at an all-time high since I agreed to marry him, and now everything is coming to a head.
Danya studies me, a smile creeping onto his serious face. “My darling, you look incredible. Absolutely stunning,” he says in a breathy sort of way that makes me believe he’s almost as lost for words as I am.
I blush hard, twisting back and forth on my heels. “You think so?”
“I know it in my heart, Taylor,” he says, stepping forward and taking my hand.
He leans down, kissing my fingers, and I nearly explode with hormonal urges I never thought I’d feel for a man I barely know. My legs tingle, my head spins, and my stomach keeps doing that thing that makes me want to puke.
He looks into my eyes, locking onto them and holding me there until my legs start to wobble. “You are a princess, and soon you will be my queen.”
I want to slap him for making me so fucking wet when I’m wearing silk panties. They’re going to be so uncomfortable sitting down at the dinner table for hours. I might even change them before we leave.
“How was your trip?” I ask, trying to deflect some of the attention away from me before I collapse in a horny puddle on the Sable rug.
He smooths his thick chestnut brown hair back, making an unassuming face. “It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary, though you will join me the next time I go. Once we are wed, you will be by my side more often.”
“Hopefully it’s not too boring,” I joke, trying to break some of the tension. Despite his good spirits, I feel that the room has a lingering stiffness that can only be broken by humor… or sex.
“It’s exciting to me, actually,” he says. “But you will see all that later. Let’s go to dinner now. I’m looking forward to a good meal with my beautiful fiancée.”
I cover my mouth to hide a toothy smile as he leads me out of the room. Halfway down the hall, I remember that I had wanted to change my panties, but it’s probably a lost cause. I’ve been horny like crazy since I came to his house, and without my vibrator that was tragically left in the US, I am unable to relieve myself.
The coil keeps tightening, and sooner or later, it’s going to break.
Sooner, hopefully. I can’t go on much longer like this, holding pillows between my thighs and whimpering into the mattress as I try to find some gratification. I can’t do it alone, and I fall asleep every night in a state of frustration and dissatisfaction.
Tonight will be more of the same, but this time I’ll have fresh memories of Danya to make it even more agonizing.
