Page 20 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
“Good.” He grabs a napkin and fishes a pen from his breast pocket. After scribbling a number onto the corner of it, he hands the napkin to me. “Come join me when you’ve finished your drink. I’ll head up first and…prepare it for your first lesson.” He looks me over from head to toe, and any other day I would be elated by the attention. Actual, lustful male attention.
As it stands, all I feel is…anxious. My palms are slick, my heart racing. I must still be hungover.
“Let me walk you out,” I suggest as Geoff starts for the exit. I step up to him, linking my arm with his. “So, I can see which direction you go.”
We start for the main hall and nearly run smack dab into a man who seemingly appears from nowhere to rudely block our path.
“Pardon,” Geoff hisses.
I merely smile sweetly and pat the stranger on his arm as I would do for anyone who nearly ran me over. “Excuse me,” I say, slipping past him.
Deep down, I sense something in the atmosphere shift—a warning drop in the air pressure like the kind that proceeds a bad storm. Oblivious, Geoff runs his fingers down my arm and then enters the hall, heading for an archway opposite the club floor.
“There are the stairs,” he tells me. “The rooms are on the second floor.”
“Ah,” I nod and flutter my eyelashes. The second he’s gone from view, I retreat to the bar and down my sangria as if it’s the antidote to nerves. I’m not approached once. When I finally finish, I enter the hall while telling myself with every step that I can do this.
I had sex with one stranger on a drunken whim. What’s another? And hopefully another?
But this pang in my chest won’t ease no matter how many ways I envision sucking off Geoff. The stairs he referenced lurk at the end of another hall and curve to join a split-level landing that overlooks the main foyer, unseen from the first floor. The rooms themselves must be behind a row of polished, ebony doors. Geoff’s is apparently near the end.
Sighing, I square my shoulders and march forward.You can do this, Tiffy. One step after the other…
Or not. A hand grabs my arm, and someone drags me into a room at least four doors away from Geoff. Stunned, I wrench away from them and whirl around, a scream poised at the back of my throat.
In the end, it escapes my lips as a hiss instead.
Vadim glowers, looking so beautiful it hurts. His eyes are even more electric, his jaw clenched, his posture broadcasting authority. It’s such a contrast to his icy, closed-off persona from the other night. I feel my throat dampen.
At least before I remember that I hate him.
“What do you want?” I demand when he doesn’t speak. “To have me mentally scar a few more children?” I gesture to my outfit—it’s ten times more revealing than my ensemble from last night. A black, skintight mini dress leaves little to the imagination, and two slits on either side go up so high they might as well touch my armpits.
“You came.” Vadim’s eyes rake over me, dark and unreadable. I came—and he doesn’t sound too thrilled about that. Why? Did he really think I’d run back to Cali and let him keep his little club all to himself?
“Leave me alone,” I snap, ignoring how his gaze lingers over my partially exposed breasts. Turning on my heel, I march for the door.
“Wait—” He grasps my wrist, yanking me right back.
“What?” I whip around to face him again, snatching my hand back. “Why are you even here?”
“Curiosity,” he grates coldly, though I get the sense that he responded to me without thinking. His attention is otherwise consumed—rapt, his gaze traces me again, and I can’t suppress a shiver in response. “I wondered if you were serious,” he murmurs, eyeing an exposed sliver of my hip. “Or…”
“Ha!” I throw my head back for a nasty laugh. “Or if I was bluffing? Oh, I wassoserious. Bachelor number one is already lined up. Curious as to how you stack up? Stick around, and you just may find out.”
“I…apologize,” he grits out, as if it physically pains him to admit as much. “If you were offended.”
“Offended?” I don’t know whether to laugh at him or give him the finger. “You treated me like a stupid slut. Of course, I was offended. Now get out of my way!”
“Ta gueule,” he hisses, shifting to block my path once more. “Let me speak—”
“Don’t you dare cuss at me in another language,” I snarl, recognizing his tone though I don’t understand the term. French? “And listen to you? I think not. Now, excuse me, stranger whom I’ve never met before. Stop following me.” I wave him off with a haughty flick of my fingers. “If you don’t mind, I’m about to get laid—”
“Wait!” He snatches my forearm the second I take a step toward the door. This time I lash out, gasping as my hand bounces harmlessly against his chest. He steps into me, grasping my chin. Before I can react, his lips capture mine, silencing me with a brutal kiss that leaves my mind reeling.
It’s…hot. Really hot. He grips my hips, his fingers fanning out. Then he breaks off and shoves me toward a leather chaise. I lean over it, scrambling to find my balance.
But he’s already behind me. His fingers plunge beneath my skirt, and a vicious sound rips from his throat.
