Reverence - Book 2

- 14 -

Svetlana kept me guessing. 

Swept up in her whirlwind of soft hands and alluring lips, I had almost let her chase the hurt of loneliness from my mind. 

I didn't like her in that sense, but the way I ached at her fleeting touch surprised me more each time. 

It was different. Small hands knowing exactly where to find the sensations, sending shivers along my spine. 

She kept me at arms length, never kissing me longer than a moment. Touch taking me to the edge and gently pushing me into the free fall, and then we would settle back into the monotony of the now and finish our episode of the bachelor or scampering back to rehearsal before our absence was painfully obvious. 

It was never planned, usually the flame would be ignited by the catch of her warring gaze from across the room. 

Like the way she was looking at me now through the mirror, her devil hands zipping her taught black dress slowly. 

There was an obscure light to them, like a little dance of knowing that turned her dark brown irises into entrancing halos. 

I slipped on my patent So Kates, the fiery red leather shining in the setting Moscow sun. Those halos flickered to the heels on my feet, widening in awe. 

"You did say sexy." 

I breathed, hoisting my tightly bound cleavage. 

And sexy was about all she had said. This evening started two weeks ago, when we sat in the promenade of Arbat, watching the tchotchke housewives simper around, their house boys bogged under orange and cream bags. 

"She smells like Sex and Money." 

Svetlana quipped, smoothing her finger tip over her glossy lips. I chuffed, peering down at my phone. 

"It's a great smell." 

She snapped her compact closed and I looked up to be met with a half turned grin. 

"I know a place that smells even better." 

"Is such a place Heaven?" 

That grin curled more, wicked. 

"Well just come with me and you'll know." 

I knew better than to listen and follow so blindly down that rabbit hole. Initially, I declined, feeling out the reaction of her. She quieted but the curl of her mouth remained. 

Every day since, the thorn of the offer stuck deeply enough in my mind to irritate my curiosity. Finally, after a restless four hours of turning and staring at my still black ceiling, I had caved and agreed to go. 

Tonight. 

She had arrived at 9PM, a bottle of Chandon in her hand and a bag of party favors in the other. A soft wave of fear brushed across my legs. 

I gratefully took the champagne and watched her bump lines of fine white silk off of my marble coffee table. 

With wide transcendent eyes, She watched as I shook back my blonde curls. 

"Are you ready?" 

I breathed, pursing red lips at her teasingly. 

With a soft huff she smiled. 

"Are you ready?" 

~

We sat in silence as the dark country side whisked past us. I felt that same blanket of uneasy drape over me as I watched the glittering city lights dissipate.