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I guess this is as close as someone like me—hideous inside and out—should be allowed near such perfection.
Why am I hiding in dark corners, stalking this girl I’ve only seen from afar, like a psycho?
I know nothing about music, but I haven’t missed any of her shows for months, and by now, I recognize exactly when her entrance comes. When my gaze finds her gliding toward the center of the stage, I feel my breath catch in my chest.
They’re probably wondering what’s gotten into me to claim the Italian girl for myself, but I don’t care what they think. She’s mine, no matter what.
I hope she won’t run off screaming upon seeing me, because I will be chasing.
The woman I’ve been obsessing about for months steps inside the room, and I feel my breath leave my lungs. I knew she was beautiful, but seeing her this close and in person . . . I was so wrong. She’s not just beautiful, that word is too plain.
Reaching out to grasp for her hand, I look at her bare ring finger, mocking sadness, then pat the back of her hand and lift my own bearing the wedding ring. Having made my point, I flip her off and leave her staring daggers at my back.
My actions are petty, I know, but I couldn’t control myself. No one gets to speak like that about my husband.
“Now, let’s clear up a few things,” Mikhail says. “You touch my wife again, in any way, I cut off your hand. I hear you speak badly about her, I cut out your tongue. You dare to even think about hitting her ever again, I cut off your head. Am I clear, Bruno?”
“Thank you, solnyshko,”
Mikhail turns his gaze toward me, looks down at my hand on the work surface, then tilts his head to the side, offering me his chin. Slowly, I reach out and brush away the remnants of the flour using the back of my hand, taking slightly more time than necessary.
The neural pathways in my brain must have snapped and rearranged themselves, because in that instant, I decide I’m done. My issues with skin contact can go fuck themselves. I grab Bianca’s hand, pull her to my side, and wrap my arm around her. Not close enough. She’s not close enough. I tighten my arm around her and stand with her back plastered to my front. The pressure in my chest eases. That will do. I don’t need a shrink to interpret my actions. When a man has already lost all he’s held dear, it’s normal for him to become slightly unhinged and scared it may happen again.
“Absolute perfection,” he says while looking right at me, and I think he is not talking about food.
He’s saying something in Russian, and even though I don’t understand a word, just hearing his rough voice in my ear makes my insides melt.
If I was a better man, I’d send her away, annul the marriage, and set her free. I guess I’m a bad man, though, because I don’t plan on letting her go.
He crosses his arms, places his fist over his mouth, shakes his head, and then bursts out laughing. It’s rich and throaty, and I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s so beautiful when he laughs.
“Run, my little lamb.”
“Ty luch solntsa v pasmurnyy den’, Bianca,” he says into my lips, kisses me again, and slowly lowers me to the ground.
“I think . . .” My throat screams in pain, as the cracked whisper leaves my lips, but I continue anyway. “You are . . . hot.”
“Mine!” He growls as he starts sliding his cock inside me so slowly, I feel as if I’m going to lose my mind. “If I see any man touch you, I’m going to kill him, Bianca.”
“I like . . . you, Mikhail,” she says, her voice barely audible. “Every . . . single . . . part . . . of you.”
“He dared to shoot at the car while my wife was inside. He’s not going anywhere.”
Wicked, wicked man. The silent types are always the most dangerous.
“V tvoyikh glazakh kusochek neba, solnyshko.” She looks at me, confused, so I translate for her. “It means, ‘there is a piece of the sky in your eyes.’”
“Ty zazhgla ogon’ v moyey dushe, solnyshko.”
“It means, ‘you’ve ignited a fire in my soul, Bianca.’ And if we don’t leave immediately, we won’t be going at all.”
“I don’t . . . have panties.” The car swerves, but I manage to righten it, barely avoiding the concrete pillar on the side. When I have it under control, I turn toward Bianca to find her leaning back in her seat, wearing a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
“You know, I’ve noted at least twenty men undressing you with their eyes since we got here,” he whispers, and suddenly, his finger enters me. “I don’t like that, Bianca.”
I can’t believe I’m sitting in front of two hundred people with Mikhail’s finger inside me. Or how damn good it makes me feel.
“I am a very jealous man.” His finger curls, causing me to bite my lip to suppress a moan. “I don’t deal well with other men ogling my wife.”
“No one is allowed to look at you, Bianca. Just me.”
“The way you look at my Bianca. Like you would lay your body over a field of burning coals, so she could cross it without burning her feet.”
“How dare you touch my wife!”
“If I see you near my wife again,” he barks and lets go, “you’re dead.”
We have sex every day and I can assure you it’s the best fucking sex I ever had. As for touching, I enjoy touching my husband immensely and even more so when he’s the one doing the touching. Especially intimately. Mikhail has very skilled fingers and an even more skilled mouth. But most of all, I love when he takes me against the wall, and I usually can’t walk after that.
Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean it’s okay for a random man to ogle my ass.
“If anyone dared to touch you, I would chop off their hand. Like I should have done with that idiot at your Nonna’s birthday party,” he whispers. “And if someone was insane enough to try putting his mouth near my wife, I would behead him.”
I don’t care if I first met him only a month ago. I don’t care our marriage was arranged as a business deal without my say in the matter. I. Don’t. Care. He’s mine, and I’ll fight anything and anyone who tries to keep him from me, even if it’s Mikhail himself.
“Because I am in love with you. Every part of you. Your grumpy personality included. Fucking deal with it.”
“Ya lyublyu tebya vsey dushoy, solnyshko,” he says into my ear. “Ya ne pozvolyu nikomu zabrat’ tebya.”
“I’m afraid someone may try to take you from me, and I have this compulsion to kill them all before they have a chance to give it a try.”
“If you knew how crazy in love with you I am,” I say into her neck, “you’d be scared shitless, Bianca.”
She seems so breakable, but it doesn’t matter. No one will dare put a finger on her ever again, because now she has her own monster to watch over her.
“I never missed any of your shows after that. I love you, my little sun. My solnyshko.”
