Page 12 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
Igroan, torn between writhing in agony and regretting the life choices that led me to this point. This point being lying on an unfamiliar bed, craving Tylenol with every fiber of my being, and cursing the effects of alcohol to hell and back.
The fact that I don’t know where I am or how I got here can be addressed later.
At the moment, all I can do is peel my eyes open and scan my surroundings for any hint of immediate danger—and, or, a bathroom.Bingo!In a blurred sea of navy blue walls and blinding windows, I spot an open door that looks promising enough.
Somehow, I stagger to my feet, feeling out for whatever I can find to steady my balance. When my bare toes finally leave plush carpeting for what feels like cold tile, I sink to my knees and crawl toward a porcelain basin that has never looked so beautiful before.
From my murky teenage recollections, I remember that the easiest way for me to cure a hangover has been to vomit. Purge whatever is left in my system and then crawl into a steaming hot shower until the life returns to my limbs.
The shower in this bathroom is a huge, imposing rectangle of glass. An LED panel seems to control it but appears to need the wisdom of an electronics engineer to utilize it. Groaning, I press buttons and curse until water gushes in from about ten thousand showerheads. It’s freezing cold, and I scream as the spray hits me.
But it will do.
Time to collect yourself,Tiffy, the stern, good-girl part of me warns, fully resurrected.Try to remember what happened. How big of a mess do you need to salvage this time?
Hmm… Well, I vaguely remember scoping out someone handsome at the bar. Very handsome, the tingle in my belly tells me. But I can’t escape the sense that something was wrong with him. So wrong that he’s no longer an option—not that I was looking for anything long-term anyway.
We went to his room, I think.
And then… We had sex. Which explains why my pussy is throbbing like hell, and my lips feel swollen. We had very good, very impersonal sex. Then we talked for what felt like hours, and I agreed to come with him…somewhere.
Gosh, what was his name? Gorgo? Vlad…Vadim.
And he, apparently, is nowhere to be found. Nice.
“You brought it on yourself, Tiffy,” I scold myself out loud. My teeth are chattering, and once I feel coherent enough to form a more solid thought other than—holy crap what have I done—I fiddle with the panel until the water turns off, and then I crawl out of the stall.
The bathroom itself is enormous. White marble creates a crisp, clean color scheme that makes me feel like something dirty and unwanted that slithered in through the drain. I’m still wearing my beautiful, now ruined “sexual revolution dress,” though I don’t know where the faux fur jacket is, or my shoes for that matter.
Using the wall for balance, I manage to wrap a towel around myself and reenter the room I woke up in.
Make that, theexecutive suiteI woke up in. A massive bed dominates the center of a sleek, modern room composed of navy walls interspersed with floor to ceiling windows that display a skyscraper laden view of a city. A vast, industrial city a world apart from sleepy Main Oaks, California.
Thrown over a leather armchair in the corner of the room is my jacket, with my shoes neatly placed on the floor nearby. The place apparently comes with its own soundtrack as well—a persistent, high-pitched ringing…
Oh.I spot a silver phone on a glass end table near the bed and warily approach it. “H-Hello?” I whisper after bringing the receiver to my ear.
“You’re awake,” a musically accented voice remarks. “Good. You slept in later than expected. You have only three hours to find something to wear. Our budget will remain as discussed.”
“B-Budget?” I frown, rubbing my forehead. “I’m sorry…who is this?”
A low, devious chuckle serves to kick start my memory.Vadim.
“I believe you should avoid mixing your liquor with wine from now on, Ms. Connors,” he says, playing with the syllables in my name. “I’ll be around to pick you up at six. In the meantime, I’ve informed the hotel to allow you unlimited use of a town car and driver. Feel free to shop where you like. And take this—” He reaches into his breast pocket and withdraws a shiny, black credit card. “My only stipulation is that you find something sexy. The more revealing, the better.”
“Sexy?” My breathing hitches as I take the card as though it’s made of glass. Memories are starting to come back to me, one in particular that still smarts. “I thought you said we weren’t going to have sex.”
“We aren’t,” he states matter of factly. “But my brother surrounds himself with a certain type of crowd. I don’t want you to stand out.”
Fair enough.“Where are you?” I wonder, gazing from the window. “Where arewe?”
“Fair Haven,” he says as though I asked him what color the sky was. “As for where I am, I had some business to see to. Until tonight. Oh, and if you need to change your dress, I arranged to have an outfit bought for you. It’s in the closet.”
He hangs up, leaving my brain reeling. Frowning, I stumble around the room until I find a sliding wooden door that conceals a walk-in closet. Inside, on a single hanger hangs a lone white sundress. It’s not too shabby, though a bit conservative for my tastes. My new tastes anyway.
I slip it on and wrestle some semblance of humanity into my hair and splash water onto my face. When I reach the hotel lobby, I’m surprised to find an aura that feels more exclusive than the Six. Gold walls and polished black floors convey decadent luxury. A concierge even comes to meet me right at the elevator.
“You must be Ms. Connors,” he says warmly. “William is already bringing the car around. Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee? Tea? A glass of wine, perhaps?”
