Protective

Stowaway

Yeremy

"Yes," I said into my phone, "If you can get Dmitri to the airport, I'll drive her myself in a few hours."

I had locked myself in the bathroom and called Mikhail as soon as I finished showering.

"Damn child," he started, "I don't know what I am going to do with that girl."

He sighed, "Have you handled Boris and his friends?"

"Yes," I replied, "By morning their groups will be scrambling to replace them but I have already connected with my father's contact in Colombia and Brazil. They were happy to get back in business with the Maximoff name."

"Excellent work."

"I couldn't have done it without your support," I said, "Thank you."

"And thank you for protecting my daughter."

I wanted to say always. I wanted to promise I'd always protect her but I didn't. I hung up the phone, dropping it in the sink.

I couldn't be there anymore, I knew that. After tonight I was done with the entire Petrov family. I had succeeded in doing the one thing I set out to do the second Mikhail had approached me and here I was second guessing that.

I couldn't let everything my father built go to waste. I had to stay here and rebuild. I wanted to do that.

And yet I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she was somewhere outside that door. Somewhere looking beautiful, her fluffy golden blonde hair on her shoulders, her pink lips begging to be kissed.

I sighed, combing back the wet hair out of my face and tying a towel around my waist before entering my bedroom.

I didn't know she'd be right there.

She was sitting at the edge of my bed. Staring at me intently, before letting her eyes drop and roam my body.

I don't think I have ever felt more self-conscious in my life, but I didn't move. I stood still, waiting for her eyes to get their fill before returning back to mine.

I didn't want to tease her about staring even though I could have. We both knew she was staring but I wasn't focused on that particular thing anymore.

"We should talk about that," I said first, breaking out silence.

Her eyes searched through my words until they gave me confirmation that she knew exactly what I was talking about.

"That was my first time," she said, avoiding my eyes.

"What?"

"I was a virgin," she explained, this time more aggressively as if she wanted to say anything but that.

"I-I," I began to stammer, "I didn't know that. I wouldn't have—"

"I know," she shrugged, "I wanted you to, though."

I took a deep breath, "If I knew that was your first time, I wouldn't have done it there. Not in the backseat of my car."

She deserved something more special than that. God, I remember how I was that night.

I wasn't as gentle a I should've been. I wasn't even thinking at all, just acting and doing whatever felt good and having her underneath me felt indescribably good.

It felt like I had been thirsty for days and she was the only drink of water in sight.

If I had known...I would've been more gentle.

She smiled, "Oh, so you would've done me on the roof of you car instead?"

"Look at that," I stepped closer to her, "You're still funny."