Page 57 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
“More food of Ena’s?” I playfully taunt.
He chuckles rather than answer.
And I go to war within myself. This is going too far. Too fast. An intimate bath and breakfast in bed take this liaison far beyond a one-night stand. The fact that we’re well beyond one night makes that clear as well. I should be doing whatever it takes to cement the boundary between us, and when I hear his steps approach, I’m ready to remind him of the unescapable facts—this won’t last. It certainly isn’t real. I need to return to California.
But then he rounds the corner, strolling through the doorway, and I forget my train of thought.
“From your stunned silence, I can assume this meal is to your liking?” he wonders innocently while advancing sporting a silver tray piled high with sweets and delicacies on one hand while holding a bottle of wine in the other.
The good wine.
Too stunned to argue, I scoot over to make room, and it isn’t long before I’m eating right from his hands. I groan with utter content as I sample a chocolate-covered strawberry.
“Ilovewhen you pamper me,” I declare as my eyes glaze over.
He chuckles, and his fingers dance over the tray of desserts in search of another treat. “I’m beginning to suspect that chocolate is your weakness every bit as much as wine is.”
I nod, relaxing into him. He sits with his back to the headboard while I lie in between his legs, leaning against his chest. Spoiled, tipsy, and with my brain still mush from earlier, I’m in no state to filter myself.
“What made you come after me?” I ask, thinking back to that night at the club. My teeth descend into my lower lip as I picture it. The very first time I pushed him past his boundaries with marvelous results. “I thought I wasn’t your type?”
“You aren’t.” He’s frowning even as he says it. Before I can fully tense, he lowers his mouth to my ear, his breaths thick and hesitant. “Maybe that’s a good thing… Or bad,” he adds, “considering my finances.”
A self-satisfied grin tugs on the corner of my mouth. “Tell me.”
He sighs as if thinking it over. Then he picks a small, bite-sized piece of cake from his tray and brings it to my mouth. As I chew, he says, “You challenged me.” His tone deepens, making it sound so novel to him. A foreign concept. “I’ve offended women before. Some left. Others threaten to ruin me, or extort me for money...” His eyes take on a cold gleam, betraying that sadistic hint of his personality. I pity the poor woman that ever thought she could take advantage of him. Something tells me, he more than ensured they regretted that decision. He relished in it. But then he cocks his head, his mouth tilted downward. “None have ever threatened to compare my sexual prowess to that of a sex club’s full roster before,” he admits, brushing his finger along my exposed shoulder.
I shrug to hide my blushing cheeks. “Could you see yourself wanting a real relationship with a woman you don’t have to bribe?”
Beneath me, his chest rumbles with a thoughtful hum. “Could you see yourself in a relationship so soon after your divorce?”
I squirm, unnerved by how easily he saw to my main source of hesitation.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “In theory, I want to say no, but in practice? I suppose there could be someone out there worth exploring something deeper with, no matter the time frame.”
And yet, I’m frowning. The thought is surprisingly unnerving, far too serious for my drunken brain to contemplate, so I crane my neck back and open my mouth.
Taking the hint, he places an exquisite looking piece of chocolate onto my tongue. I groan, sufficiently distracted, all thoughts of losing my newfound independence forgotten.
“Do you ever see yourself getting married again?” Vadim asks, unwilling to let the subject drop.
Damn.I take my time swallowing and then shrug. “I don’t know—”
“What about children?” His voice shifts, taking on a deeper, more cautious tone. Something about his reaction triggers a part of my brain, but I’m not sure why. Maybe recognition? It’s the same wistful, guttural way he spoke about his horse, betraying a deeper emotion I can’t comprehend just yet.
Which leads to a more important question—does he want children?
“No. I… I don’t want children,” I confess. If I did want to pursue a relationship with anyone, it’s best to get that out of the way. “I don’t.”
He stiffens, and my cheeks catch fire. It’s the same reaction I’ve grown used to, and one of the main reasons why I’ve avoided my parents, in addition to loathing their guilt.
Your biological clock is ticking, Tiffy,they gently remind at every opportunity.You don’t want to be alone forever. You would make a wonderful mother.
“It’s not like I hate children,” I add in a rush. “I love them. So, so much. I always wanted to be a mother too, but when I was with Jim…” I close my eyes, combating an unexpected prickling sensation—that of tears threatening to form. “He was kind of a Nazi when it came to setting the timeline of when he thought we were ‘ready.’ In short, never. He’d spin the tired old excuses about having enough money or time, but the truth was he never wanted a baby. Not with me, anyway. But as these things usually happen, I got pregnant unexpectedly.” I suck in a breath as the pain rises up swiftly, striking like a punch to the chest.
“You don’t have to say anymore,” Vadim warns, still cradling me in his arms. Maybe it’s his warmth that makes me brave enough to keep talking?
“I was so happy,” I croak. “Everyone says that, but I can’t explain… I truly was so ecstatic. My relationship with Jim was a bust, but with this new baby? I would be the perfect mother. I would do anything...”
