Chapter 11 - Tia

It's Friday after a particularly long week, and I am not even close to being able to say I can relax and enjoy my weekend.

After work, I have to go to a night class. I've been skipping them here and there so that I can still get my other work done, but then I always have so much catching up to do with my coursework. Tonight is a pretty big lecture, so I can't miss it.

All I really want to do is get some sleep.

My ‘honeymoon' rest is already worn off and long forgotten.

Yefim walks into my office space. "Here's the new project I was telling you about." He drops the binder onto my desk, and I catch the scent of his aftershave. I close my eyes for a second, trying to force away the images that flood my mind.

Ever since I kissed him at the party, my attraction to him has gotten so much worse. And at work, I can't even avoid him anymore, because I was promoted and work directly beneath him now.

Our offices are right next to each other, and I see him all day, every day.

At work and at home.

It's becoming impossible to keep myself in check, because honestly, all I want to do is rip his clothes off.

"The last one you handed in looks great," he says, sitting down in the chair opposite mine.

"Where they happy with the new arrangements?"

"Very. Listen. I want to take you out to dinner tonight."

"I have night school. I won't be able to."

He nods, and I realize I'm actually disappointed that I can't go to dinner with him. Jeez. What is wrong with me? On one hand, I want to devour him slowly, and on the other hand I find him controlling and bossy and always in my face.

I sigh.

"We can do dinner next week, depending on how my schedule looks?"

"Of course, but when are you going to quit those other jobs? You don't need them anymore. My wife should not be working extra jobs."

"There is no good reason for me to quit my other jobs."

"There is. You are too busy. What time do you finish at school tonight?"

"Around nine."

"Message me if it goes later."

I sigh heavily. "I will."

"Make sure that you do." He glares at me with a warning painted across his face. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at him. "Tia, I'm serious. And we are going to talk about you quitting your other jobs."

I pull a face. I'm too tired for serious conversations.

Maybe I need to consider stopping one of them.

If I let go of the dog walking, I won't have to travel around after work, and I have been promoted here, so I am going to earn more money.

It's just so scary to think about.

I want to clear my debts and be in a better position before I make those choices.

***

This week has been so exhausting. I had so much editing to do after-hours, and now I have to focus on taking in a crapload of new information tonight in class.

Cleo and Mandy are already seated when I get to class. They've kept a seat for me like they always do.

I slide into it and drop my textbook onto the desk.

"Tia, wow, you look like hell warmed up."

"I'm so tired and drained I can barely even remember my own name."

"I know what you need," Cleo says cheerfully. "You need to come out with us for a drink after class."

"Oh my word, no. I need to go home and sleep after class." I shake my head.

"No, you're coming with us. It's decided. You keep making excuses and avoiding us. You'll see—after a few drinks and some dancing you'll realize that its exactly what you need."

Cleo turns towards the lecturer as he walks into class, and apparently, it signals the end of our debate. I open my textbook and think about how long it's been since I went out with friends and just let my hair down. Maybe she's right. Maybe what I need is a good dance and a laugh.

Maybe I will go with them.

***

The music is thrumming loudly, vibrating through my body, pulsing in my veins. I lift my face up to the colorful lights and smile as I shake my body in time to the music.

I've had a few tequila shots. I feel so relaxed. I feel like nothing matters right now except enjoying myself for a moment.

I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out.

Oh shit.

I forgot to message Yefim.

Yefim: It's ten thirty. Where are you?

Me: I'm so sorry, I got caught up and forgot to let you know I went out for drinks with some friends after class.

Yefim: Where?

Me: It's a club right by the college. Silk Sparrow or something like that. I can't remember the name.

Yefim: When will you be home?

I sigh and roll my eyes. The last thing I need right now is for him to be all annoyed that I went out to have a little fun.

Me: I don't know. Don't wait up.

I shove my phone back in my pocket. He needs to learn to let me do my own thing sometimes. He wants to control every aspect of my life, and it's driving me crazy.

I'm used to being so independent.

I carry on dancing and soon forget about Yefim and my work and my studies. I just let myself get completely lost in the music and a fun night out with my friends.

That is, until I am standing by the bar, having another tequila with Cleo and Mandy and a few guys from class, and spot Yefim watching me.

He is leaning against the bar a little way away from us, a slight grin on his face. But I can't tell if he's smiling or smirking in annoyance at the sight of me.

I bite my lip. I know how this is going to go.

He's going to lecture me on drinking, being irresponsible—maybe he's even going to be mad that I'm out with other guys.

I stand there, the aftertaste of tequila still burning in my throat, glaring back at Yefim.

Cleo leans over my shoulder, shouting too loudly. "Tia, there is a seriously hot guy staring at you."

"I know," I sigh.

"You should go talk to him." She giggles. "Oh my goodness, I forgot, you can't, you're married. I still can't believe that."

I told them after a few shots. I needed to tell someone, just to get it out in the open so I didn't feel like I was hiding some dark secret. At first, none of them believed me. I guess I wouldn't have believed me either, knowing me.

"I can't believe it either," I mutter.

Why does Yefim look so fucking divine right now?

And what I thought might have been an angry smirk is definitely an amused smile. I feel my lips curving up into a grin as I let my eyes wander up and down his body.

He pushes off the bar and starts walking towards us.

"Oh my goodness, Tia, he's coming straight here. I've never seen such a hottie in my life. How do I look?" Cleo says, brushing her hands through her hair.

"Tia, my love, are you having fun?"

Cleo's jaw practically hits the floor.

"You know him?"

"Cleo, this is Yefim, my husband. Yefim, this is Cleo."

Cleo holds her hand out to shake Yefim's, but she still has a stunned look on her face.

Drunkenly, she leans close to me, even though Yefim can hear every word she's saying. "You never told me he was like, a cover model or something."

I'm noticing how drunk Cleo is, and I'm doing my best not to look that drunk too, even though my head is happily spinning and I have a stupid grin on my face.

But looking too drunk means I'll probably get into trouble, and I don't feel like being in trouble.

But to my surprise, Yefim says, "Can I get you girls another drink? And your other friends?"

"Tequila," Cleo shouts, and our friends all turn to look at her. "Tia's husband is buying us a round of tequila guys."

Oh shit. Everyone is going to come over here now and Yefim will see how many guys are part of our group, too.

He orders a tray of tequila, and everyone grabs one, including him. He holds his up towards me and smiles. "To the most beautiful girl in the world."

I narrow my eyes towards him, but there is still a grin on my face.

I take the shot and then one of my friends grabs my arm. "Let's go dancing."

Nervously, I glance at Yefim, waiting for him to tell me I can't. But he simply says, "Have fun. I'll enjoy watching you."

I let myself be dragged towards the dance floor, and while I am enjoying the music and my friends, I can't take my eyes off Yefim.

He looks so out of place, standing against the bar in his tailor-made black suit. He's older than the guys dancing around me, and I glance from them to him and realize—he's a man. That's what makes him a hundred times hotter than they are.

He's got this controlled, sophisticated manner that tells me he knows what he wants, he knows how to get it, and he will get it.

Fuck.

It's so fucking sexy.

Everything about him is drop-dead gorgeous.

I giggle to myself as flashes of kissing him play in my mind again. For the hundredth time since it happened.

I want more of that.

Like, right now.

Yefim stays late with me at the club. Not even for a second does he make me feel like I should stop partying or slow down or behave myself. He just watches me having fun, and somehow, I feel a lot safer with him there, his eyes constantly on me.

I feel safer, and I feel really turned on.

When I'm dancing, I'm dancing to tease him. When I talk to him between a drink or a chat with my friends, I find myself leaning into him, running my hands over his chest.

Finally, when I tell him I'm ready to go home, he takes my jacket and wraps it around my shoulders, then takes my hand to lead me to the car.

All the way there, the drive is tense, because he is right next to me in the back seat. The driver has the divider between the front and the back closed so we have complete privacy.

I just want to climb into his lap and wrap my legs around him.

I mean, why shouldn't I?

He's my husband. I don't know why I've been so against it before.

I giggle as I shift across the seat towards him and then, a little clumsy, I climb onto his lap and grab his face to kiss him.

At first, he kisses me back, fierce and heated, but when I start grinding my hips against him, feeling his cock getting harder and harder, he growls in frustration and lifts me off him.

I'm in absolute shock when he puts me back down on the seat next to him.

"Now is not the right time, Tia," he says, his voice low.

"What do you mean?" I huff in surprise.

"You're too drunk."

"Drunk? I'm not that drunk," I say, angry and embarrassed.

I can feel my cheeks glowing red—luckily the car is dark, so he can't see.

"You're drunk, Tia. You're not behaving like yourself. Just leave it."

I shake my head and fold my arms across my chest, sulking heavily.

I can't believe he turned me down.

I'm dying inside, wanting nothing more than to get out of this small space and run away.

As soon as the car stops outside the mansion, I push the door open and march inside, right up to my room, slamming the door closed.

I can't believe he rejected me.

After he was the one who wanted us to share a bed, and he was the one who kissed me, I don't understand.

I feel silly for crying, but the tears start streaming down my cheeks. I don't understand why he doesn't want me. I've seen the way he looks at me sometimes.

But I guess I misread everything. This really is just a marriage of convenience and nothing else. He's not attracted to me. He doesn't like me in any way. It's all just for show and appearances.

Lying on the bed, I wiggle out of my clothes, too tipsy to get up now that I've flopped down here. I throw them across the room, letting them land wherever they land on the floor. Then I pull my duvet over my body and wrap it tightly around me, hiding from everything.

Tomorrow, I won't even speak to him.

I let out an angry sigh against my pillow.

Why the hell does he have to be so fucking hot, and then not even want me? How did I get stuck in a marriage like this?