Ava
Today’s episode of awkward car rides with Ava features Nikolai, my very sexy, very scary-looking husband who, with a single glance, has the ability to unravel me from the inside out.
It’s been five minutes since we left the house and my body still hums with delight at the memory of his lips pressing against the back of my neck like he only just did it. I’d been shocked, to say the least, when it happened, but immediately, I felt if the brush of his lips against my skin, any resolve I had evaporated into thin air.
I steal a glance at him, admiring his sharp jawline and the way his shoulders flex beneath the fabric of his tux. He looks extremely good today and it took everything inside me not to maul him when I saw him standing outside my bedroom.
“Are you okay?”
I blink once then twice, trying to regain my composure while simultaneously hoping he hadn’t noticed me ogling him. Nikolai decided to drive us to Tatiana’s wedding. His hands grip the steering wheel with the kind of casual confidence only he can pull off.
“I’m fine,” I mutter but the words sound anything but fine
After my little nighttime rendezvous with myself, I spent the whole of yesterday avoiding him. It was easy for the most part, considering he was barely home, and when he was, I made sure to make myself as scarce as possible.
I know my fear is irrational, but a part of me was afraid that if we were trapped together in the same room for more than five minutes, he’d be able to sense what I did to myself that night after what happened between us in the kitchen.
“Right, ” he drawls, tapping his fingers against the wheel, “Because you being fine translates to you spending the entirety of yesterday avoiding me.”
“You’re imagining things”
“Really?”
I scowl, suddenly feeling annoyed, “Yes” I bite out.
“Did I also imagine hearing my name coming from your bedroom that night?”
And there it is. I knew the universe had been too kind to me these last few days.
My face burns in embarrassment and I clench my fist in my thigh, forcing my eyes to remain trained outside the window instead of on him. The nerve of this man. Mortification coils hotly in my chest and I’m horrified that there’s a chance Nikolai might’ve heard me fingering myself to the fantasy of him.
My lips press into a thin line. His room is only a few steps away from mine so the possibility of him hearing me get off that night isn’t exactly out of the realm of possibilities.
I snap my gaze to him meeting his infuriatingly smug expression. The smirk I find on his face only fuels my frustration.
“What I do in my bedroom is none of your business.” I hiss trying to keep my voice steady despite the heat rushing to my face.
His smirk deepens and he tosses me a grin that only makes me want to smack his pretty face.
“Besides, who says It was your name I called?”
That causes his smirk to fall.
“Then whose name did you call, Solnyshko? Because I’m pretty sure I heard mine”
I consider stopping my lie right there but the look on his face only fuels the spark of defiance shimmering inside me.
“You wouldn’t know him”
I say, crossing my hand and leaning back against my seat.
“Try me Solnyshko. All I need is a name and I’ll make sure he never crosses your mind again.”
His words are calm but the cold way he delivers them sends a shiver down my spine.
My breath catches in my throat, and I hate the way my cheeks heat under his scrutiny. “You’re insane,” I respond, shaking my head.
“Insane?” He barks out a low chuckle, dark and unrelenting. “Maybe. But I know what’s mine Solnyshko, and I don’t take too kindly to sharing”
“I’m not yours Nikolai. How many times do I have to tell you, what happened that night was a mis…”
“I swear to God If you say the word mistake one more time I’m going to pull this car over and make sure that we’re very late to this wedding”
The threat shouldn’t remotely excite me the way it does. A sick thrill trails up my spine as I picture all the different ways Nikolai can make sure we show up late to Tatiana’s wedding.
“Then what do you want me to call it then because we both know it never should’ve happened”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his grip tighten around the steering wheel with almost the same amount of force he uses to clench his jaw.
“But it did happen and I’ll be damned if I let you reduce what happened between us into something as insignificant as a mistake.” His voice is filled with the kind of roughness that pierces through my chest and sinks its claws into my heart,
“Nikolai please…”
“Mistakes don’t feel the way kissing you felt that night did and we both know it.”
I hate it when he’s right. My gaze drops to my hand in my lap and I fiddle with my thumbs.
“Tell me, Ava, does lying to me get you off?”
That causes my gaze to snap back to his.
No, I’m afraid only imagining your fingers inside me does. I press my lips together unable to respond. After I’d touched myself to a very vivid fantasy of my husband, I had lain awake in bed for hours, hating myself for it. For wanting him. For craving something I shouldn’t. Something I’ve known since we got to Russia I can’t have.
Nikolai hates my father, and by default, part of that hatred falls on me whether he realises it or not. I wasn’t a fool. I didn’t expect Nikolai to abandon his plans of vengeance for me and I honestly don’t know if I wanted him to if my father had done the things he claimed. We only started being cordial with one another a week ago. There’s still so much I don’t know about him, so much I want to find out, but I’m afraid that if I do, this feeling I have growing inside my chest will only keep getting bigger, and if that happens, I don’t know if I can continue to pretend.
“Can we just drop this?” I ask, desperate for a way out. We haven’t discussed what to expect yet from Dmitri, and I would rather we talk about that than this.
“I rather we talk about something else.”
“Net, ya ne pozvolyu tebe spryatat’sya ot menya.”
(No, I won’t let you hide from me.)
He slows the car to a nearby stop and turns to look at me, “You can’t run from this forever, Solnyshko” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.
The words ‘watch’ and ‘me’ lie on the tip of my tongue waiting to spill but I swallow them down.
“Sooner or later you’re going to have to acknowledge this thing between us.”
“There’s nothing between us”
“Chush’ sobach’ya” (Bullshit) He snaps.
His jaw tightens, and he lets out a low, humourless laugh that sends a shiver racing down my spine. “You think I don’t see the way your body reacts to me when I’m near you. I hear the way your breath hitches when I touch you. I hear the whimper lodged in your throat when I kiss you. Fuck I even heard it when I touched you earlier. So don’t fucking patronize me, Ava”
“You’re delusional,” I mutter under my breath, not low enough that he doesn’t hear me.
His lips twitch into a smirk that’s anything but amused. “And you’re a terrible liar, Solnyshko.”
He starts the car again, and this time, when he drives, we make it to the chapel without so much as another word to each other.
Nikolai is right. I am avoiding this thing between us. Avoidance meant safety. It meant I didn’t have to deal with things I didn’t want to deal with for as long as I didn’t want to deal with it, and right now, I most definitely didn’t want to deal with this.