Читать книгу I’m taking her - Dmitry Nazarov - Страница 10

I needed to calm down.

For the umpteenth time in the past few days, I have repeated this to myself. But, as before, self-persuasion did not lead to anything. If earlier I somehow managed to gather myself and pull myself together, now I rushed around the room, not understanding what to do. The body burned with fire: belly, thighs, chest. I still felt Max’s touch, felt his kisses on my neck, felt him rubbing his hips against me.

– God! I groaned loudly as I sat down on the bed. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

Needless to say, no man before him had allowed himself such a thing? Remembering how he touched me, I instinctively moved my legs closer. She clenched her hands into fists and took a deep breath. I needed to wash away this heat, wash away his touch, get rid of the aching longing that never fully receded. I took off my top and threw it on the bed and touched my own breasts. My nipples were tense, my own touch gave off warmth, and I involuntarily exhaled.

– Bene! (Excellent – trans. from Italian.), – I whispered. I’m turned on by a man who keeps me in his house as a guarantee to pay off a debt. Better not to think!

Getting up, I took off my shoes and, unbuttoning my trousers, went to the bathroom, but stopped on the threshold. I don’t know for whom or what this room was intended for, it didn’t change the fact that the shower room in it was miserable. A tiny cubicle where I could barely turn around without my elbows hitting the walls. If this is another way to put me in my place, Max won’t be able to do it. Even if I’m nothing to him.

Within a few minutes, having changed my trousers for a short house dress, I, step by step, went upstairs. Exhausted by nervous anticipation, not understanding myself and tired, I wanted comfort. And it’s not about my so-called spoiled. It’s just… Everything was going wrong. Not at all like I imagined.

Escaping from Italy with Ivan, I didn’t dream at all about a matchbox-like shower in the man’s house, from whose touch the devil knows what was happening to me! Instead of becoming the mistress of a mansion in the suburbs of Moscow, I became a prisoner of a dangerous man who looked like a predatory beast, capable of… What exactly Max is capable of, I never figured out. But I remember the lesson taught to me. Yes… a burgundy room with lace trim, music pouring from invisible speakers, and his gaze burning me. His hands…

Having passed along the corridor of the second floor, I saw that the door of one of the rooms was open and went inside. I immediately realized that this was Max’s bedroom. Bright room, designed in beige and brown tones. Nothing superfluous, just a poster of an old gangster movie hidden under glass on the wall. I saw the same ones in the casino when the guard led me through the inner corridors. A wide bed with carved wooden posts, a small asymmetrical carpet on the floor. Judging by the atmosphere of the house, the owner liked comfort and functionality. Nothing superfluous, no design bells and whistles.

Unlike the one in my room, the bathroom was large as was the shower. Having hung up my dress, I went inside, turned on the water, and with pleasure set my body to the jets. She ran her hand from her shoulders to her stomach and, licking the water from her lips, lowered her eyelids. The room smelled of Max, the bathroom smelled of Max, Max’s shower room… I cupped my breasts in my hands and rubbed my nipples. Slightly squeezed, wrapped in a circle. The pulling, languid feeling became stronger, his chest gave off with a slight aching pain. Without wanting to, I remembered how his hand lay on my stomach and lowered my hand. His fingers on flesh…

– Mmm… – she licked her lips and gently stroked the bottom. Touched the clitoris.

What am I doing?! How many times in recent days have I asked myself this question and how many times I could not find an answer to it? What?!

She crumpled her chest – a little hard, as he could do it, turned her neck to warm jets, imagining his tongue on the skin. Fingers inward, a few strokes, then back to the clitoris. Softer and stronger, softer again, until there was weakness in the legs. Stepping back, I leaned against the wall of the shower room and openly caressed myself. I felt my own moisture, the smell of a man entwining me, who was looking at me today, who was touching me today, because of which I was doing this to myself now…

She exhaled through an open mouth, tilted her head back and moved her fingers faster.

– Si… – I moaned, feeling my stomach cramp in a sweet spasm, barely hearing my voice over the noise of the water. – quindi tu, Max … (Yes, to you, Max … – translated from Italian.)

She sobbed, fingers fluttering over the nipple, over the flesh. Suddenly I realized that I wanted to feel the prickly stubble, I wanted the heat of my breath, I wanted it to be his hands touching me, to be his fingers. His mouth, his fingers, his…

– Mmmm … – the lower abdomen tensed, and immediately a shiver ran through the body. The legs became completely wadded, the hips – hot. Swallowing, I took a deep breath. I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes, I didn’t have the strength to move away from the wall. I stood there, breathing heavily, cuddling up, throwing my head back. Wet down there, bewildered by the realization – I didn’t even want Ivan so much. So, from one smell, from some memories…

Turning off the water, I ran my hand over my face. I don’t know how long I was in the shower, it must have been at least an hour. At first, she stood against the wall, trying to recover, to calm her accelerating pulse. It must be all nervous. First, an escape with Ivan, after an ambulance wedding, and then… Then, in general, something unimaginable. Because in any other situation, I wouldn’t be like that. I would not even look in the direction of Max, I would… But for some reason my thoughts did not go further, because in fact I had no idea what would have happened if Max and I had met differently.

Taking the first tube of gel from the shelf, I inhaled a light woody scent. She squeezed a little into the palm of her hand and ran it over her neck, across her chest. My legs still gave way, and again I felt… I felt the touch of his lips, his palms. Cursed memory! And he…

Drying off, I realized that I did not take spare panties with me. I had to put the dress on right. After wetting her hair for the last time, she threw a damp towel on the edge of the sink and went to the door, but returned and hung it on a hook. Not that I was afraid that Max would find out that I was washing in his bathroom, but still…

Crumpled up in her fist the underwear that she took off before the shower, she pushed the door and immediately stopped.

– You said you’d be back in the morning… – came off my tongue as soon as I stumbled upon the impenetrable darkness of the devil’s eyes.

– In the morning? Max squinted and moved towards me. It dawned on me that he was not just drunk – he was drunk. Vhlam is drunk.

A minute ago I thought I was not afraid. I’m not afraid that he will find out about the shower, about the fact that I came to his room, but now… Taking a step back, I tried to slam the door, but he held it with one sharp lunge. He rested his palm on the joint, frowned, slowly examining me from head to toe. The eyes became completely black, the lips turned into a thin line.

– Stay away, – I warned as I saw him approaching. – Do not dare!

– All of you … – he grinned hostilely, came closer, so that I was literally cornered. The line of his mouth twisted into a wry smile. – All-e-e … – he stretched out, resting his palm on the wall near my head. He sniffed and winced. – Sales. Selling…

– What are you carrying?!

I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my wrist tightly. He narrowed his eyes again and bent down, drawing the air from my throat noisily. His bristles pricked my skin, but I felt only a chill running down my back. Unpleasant, twisting nerves with fear, a feeling of someone else’s closeness. Dangerous proximity, unacceptable. Looks like I’ve finally regained my sanity. Max’s hand landed on my waist, fingers pressing into my body.

– Stop it! She dug into his wrist and tried to pull her hand away.

Panic gripped me. Almost like the evening when he pressed me against the car, only… As if the very essence of it was different. I didn’t want those touches, I didn’t want his closeness, his fingers! Leaning on me, he began to lift up the hem of the dress. A nasty lump rolled up in my throat, the chill that I felt turned into a shiver.

– Not! I screamed as I felt his fingers on my thigh. What is the strength went nails on his hand and jerked to the side.

– Bitch! he hissed, jerking me back into place. He bared his teeth, growled, and pulled the dress up with a sharp movement. – All of you… – realizing that there was nothing under the robe, he bared his teeth again. – You are all whores, – palm on chest. – Y-yes … – hips to me, close.

I felt the hardness of his groin, and I was literally shaking. From rage, from desperation. The corners of his eyes burned. He smelled of strong alcohol, but the woody smell… Not the same. Not that…

– I don’t want! – She pushed again and, having contrived, kicked on the shin. Drunk, he staggered, and I pushed again, and then rushed out of the bathroom. My heart was pounding in my throat, I was pounding. If he wants to catch up with me… I didn’t know what to do next. Almost naked, in uncomfortable home slippers… Just run out of the room, just…

She stopped when she saw Max standing in the doorway of the room. Gloomy, he looked at me with devilish black eyes. Jeans, casually thrown over a jacket… Fear became stronger than before. How did he… I turned around. In the bathroom door, leaning on the jamb, stood… Max. Max, fuck him!

– Oh mio Dio (Oh my God – translated from Italian)! – again glancing at the door of the room, I whispered, realizing that it would be very appropriate to collapse into a faint now. But fainting has never been my forte.

She exhaled and, like an idiot, turned to that Max, who was still leaning on the jamb of the bathroom.

– Wow…

Ignoring the sophisticated coffee machine, I found a cezve in the kitchen cabinet and began to grind coffee. My mother is from Russia, but I got only bright blue eyes from her, otherwise I went to my father – a purebred Italian. In everything related to cooking, he did not tolerate haste, and even brewing coffee…

– Turn that damn thing off! – the second Max barked as soon as I turned on the coffee grinder.

Ignoring him, I ground the coffee and poured it into the cezve. The pleasant aroma of freshly ground grains wafted through the kitchen. Again I remembered our house, parents…

She glanced at the men at the table. They were like two drops of water, except that the second was even darker than the first. Apparently, something happened to him. Either the wife cheated, or the girl left… I could not figure it out. I expected Max to tell me to go to my room and not show up, but instead he ordered strong coffee to be brewed.

– What now, Dan? He was clearly unhappy. – What the hell are you doing, how…

I poured water into the cezve and waited for the coffee to be ready. So Dan? It seems to be short for Denis. She looked back at her brothers.

– Are you soon? – this time Max turned to me. Even their voices were almost the same. Almost. Only him… He touched something inside me, as if touching every nerve.

– Soon, – she put the Turk aside.

She turned around and looked straight at first one, then the other. Heck! It turns out that there, in the bathroom… It’s not at all about my sanity. It’s just… It really wasn’t the right one. Wrong man, wrong hands, wrong fingers.

Catching my glance, Max lifted the corner of his lips and immediately coldly reminded:

– Coffee, Marika.

Give me back my phone. I need to talk to my husband,» I blurted out.

All this is enough for me! I needed clarity, I wanted to personally hear from Ivan how much longer I have to wait. Max’s words that he dumped me… Did I believe him? Don’t know.

– I’d like to talk to your husband myself, – he said with perfect calmness, just as I was beginning to lose patience. – Coffee.

Impulsively opening the cupboard doors, I took out two cups and set them down on the countertop with a loud thud. She poured dark, fragrant coffee and put it on the table.

– Give me phone.

– Persistent, – Dan chuckled. – I would in your place…

Whatever he was in Max’s place, I was not interested. I stood next to Max and looked into his eyes. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at me, as if evaluating, pondering something. He took a cup and took a sip of hot coffee.

– Good, – he said lazily.

He looked again, provoking, knowing how it unbalances me. But I wasn’t about to give in. Not this time. Another minute passed before he got up and left the kitchen. Left alone with his brother, I felt a little awkward.

– Tell me, – he suddenly spoke, and I turned to him, – what do you women need? – What? he grumbled, looking at me with an evil squint.

– I don’t know about the women, – I answered through clenched teeth, – but I need your brother to leave me alone.

Denis chuckled contemptuously and turned away. He barely touched his coffee.

– You are all whores, – he looked again. – N-yes? – the same smile. – Looking for somewhere sweeter, easier… Nice, Monaco…

Already torn, I wanted to explain to him in a very rude way that for a start it would be nice to deal with my own shit, and only after blaming everyone for something. Whom he blames, I have no idea! But as soon as I opened my mouth, Max appeared on the threshold of the kitchen. I threw my mobile on the table, and it rolled to a stop right in front of me.

– Se sei uno stronzo, non dovresti incolpare una donna, (If you’re an asshole, you shouldn’t blame the woman for it – trans. from Italian.), I threw to Dan and took the mobile.

Paying no more attention to any of the brothers, she hurriedly opened the list of contacts and, finding Ivan, poked the call button. My heart pounded, my breath stopped. I must have missed him. I missed something at least somewhat familiar, familiar. For someone…

– The subscriber’s phone is turned off or is out of network coverage, – I heard after a few seconds of silence. I exhaled. The pounding heart just fell down, collapsed, as if from a great height. Got it again. Silence and … – The subscriber’s phone is turned off or is out of network coverage.

So pressing the phone to her ear, she looked at Max. There was… pity in his eyes. Such an expression of indifferent sympathy. She squeezed the phone tighter. The lifeless voice of the electronic informant repeated the phrase in English.

– It doesn’t mean anything, – I blurted out, shaking my head. – Understandably?

Not wanting to feel this look on herself anymore, she quickly jumped out of the kitchen, realizing that my last words did not mean anything, most likely. The subscriber’s phone is turned off or out of network coverage. And I… I am alone in, in fact, a foreign country in the hands of a man… A man for whom I am an empty place, near which I become not myself.