by Bethany-Kris
Viviana didn’t think she’d be able to, what with her hands trembling like they were.
Despite claiming he wanted to go home, the moment an exit for the highway came into view, Anton changed lanes and took it. In seconds, the Bugatti was shifting from one gear, and then slamming into the next. Over and over, they swerved in and around other cars to pass them at a rate of speed that pushed Viviana back into her seat from the force.
She wasn’t afraid, though.
“Jesus,” Anton growled.
“Talk to me,” Viviana said from the side, barely glancing over at her husband.
Clipped and short, Anton’s words strained to get back his clenched teeth. “I thought … just, wasn’t sure.”
“You thought you’d be going back,” she assumed.
Anton nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tightening to a white-knuckled grasp. The hand on the stick shift slipped it into the last gear without even hesitating and the car lurched forward, moving faster. Without a word, he turned on the car stereo. The CD they hadn’t taken out from the last time they drove the car starting blasting through the speakers, pumping bass into the floor.
“I told you it would be okay, Anton.”
“Not everything is black and white,” he replied.
“Ivan and me, we handled it,” she tried to explain. “I’ll tell you everything. I wasn’t going to let you—”
Anton slammed an open palm to the steering wheel, cursing severely under his breath. “Shut up, Vine.”
Hurt and surprised, she asked, “What?”
“I don’t want to know. Okay? Just shut up, and don’t tell me whatever you think you need to tell me. My wife doesn’t get herself involved in business. She doesn’t put herself under the scrutiny of investigators. She doesn’t keep things from me, like the fact that she was going to be a witness in my trial!”
Anton didn’t even know what Viviana did and already he was pissed off.
“What in the fuck were you thinking? The Italians are going to be in a fit over your statements. I’ll be smoothing that shit over for years!”
“Anton, relax.”
“Vine, I said—”
“It wasn’t business. It was you. You’re not business to me. And I spoke to Conrad. It’s fine.”
Anton’s head whipped in her direction, his eyes blazing. “You spoke to the Italians without me?”
“Erik and Ivan went with me, and Aunt Lucy was there. It wasn’t an official thing, Anton.”
“Like that fucking matters!”
All right, Viviana had taken just about enough of his yelling.
“Stop it. Stop shouting at me. You couldn’t do anything behind bars, so I handled it. I’m fucking capable of having a meeting with Conrad and my aunt without setting off a war inside the city. In fact, I did. No one was killed over a short dinner. The trial is over. We’re fine.”
Anton snorted. “You have no idea.”
“No, Anton, you don’t.”
“I …”
Anton clamped his mouth shut and glared out the windshield. This was not how Viviana expected their first conversation to go outside of the confines of the court. Anton should have been relieved and thankful for his freedom. Instead, he was frustrated and snapping out at the closest person he could. Unfortunately, that just happened to be his wife.
“You’re still stuck in your head. Thinking when you turn around, you’re going to have to go back. Aren’t you?”
“God, I just don’t understand,” Anton whispered. “He said it. I might as well be guilty for it, they just didn’t prove it. Was it really that fucking simple after four months in hell?”
“No,” Viviana said quietly. “It wasn’t.”
Anton said nothing in response, but the engine roared from his foot pressing down to the gas pedal again. Minutes of silence later, and he turned off the highway onto a dirt road that looked like nothing more than an access for ATVs outside the city limits. Surrounded by trees, it was secluded enough to keep the Bugatti out of sight once they were a little ways in the road.
Anton slammed the car into park and opened his door. Viviana stayed in her seat and watched her husband’s breakdown from the passenger seat. Roughly, he tugged the silver tie loose around his neck, tossing the article to the ground. The same thing happened to his suit jacket before he was loosening the top two buttons on his shirt. Raking his fingers through his hair, Anton squatted to the gravel, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and stared at the ground.
When he didn’t move, Viviana decided to get out of the car, also. She rested against the hood of the Bugatti, feeling the cool September air breezing right through her thin cardigan.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Anton breathed deeply, still staring at nothing. “It’s over, yeah?”
“Yeah, you’re not going back.”
From her spot, Viviana could see Anton was holding back his emotions and fighting himself on the inside. No one was around to see him, though, and she was pretty sure she knew what he needed then.
“It’s okay to cry. Or scream. Whatever you need. It’s fine.”
Anton did just that. From the echoing sobs that shook his shoulders, to the tears he wiped away with his clenched fists. Vivian understood that more than anything, being free to live his life with his wife was what Anton wanted the most. He hadn’t believed he was going to be able to do that, no matter what they told him.
Viviana tried to move forward to comfort him, but Anton held up one hand to stop her from coming closer. His breathing was still verging on hyperventilation. Both of his hands had dug into the gravel. There was something heart-wrenchingly painful about his breakdown, but Viviana let him have it.
Then, Anton turned quiet. Standing, he swiped his hands over his suit pants to get rid of the dust. Thinking he was ready to leave, Viviana slid off the hood of the Bugatti.
“I’m sorry,” Anton said under his breath.
“For what?”
“Yelling at you. I shouldn’t … You didn’t deserve that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s all right. It’s been a stressful day. I get it,” Viviana said with a shrug. “You ready to go?”
“No, not yet.”
Anton didn’t say another word before crossing the distance separating him and his wife. Viviana found her back pushed into the hood of the Bugatti once more. Anton’s hands gripped tightly to her waist as he plucked her up like she didn’t weight a thing and sat her down on the car. Over and over, he kissed her mouth with soft kisses.
“Sorry. So sorry, Vine.”
The guilt Viviana was trying to swallow clawed at her throat. “Stop, please, Anton …”
Instead of taking her request for him to quit apologizing, Anton seemed to think it was for him to stop touching her. Viviana felt the loss of his hold and kisses instantly. She grabbed at him and pulled him in close once more.
“Don’t stop that,” Viviana ordered, staring Anton straight in the eyes. “Never that.”
Anton sighed into her hair as she rested her face against his neck. She could smell the lingering soap on his skin. Even seeing him every day during the trial, Viviana only now realized his hair was an inch and a half longer than what it was before. Secured back in their embrace, both turned quiet. Ignoring the guilt she felt, Viviana played with the longer strands at his neck, scratching her fingernails up along the back of his scalp.
It wasn’t long before Anton’s hands were wandering on her sides again. Over her stomach he stopped momentarily, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. Anton pulled at her blouse until her small, swelled midsection was exposed. The cold air had her skin pebbling, but Anton’s warm kisses as he bent down and pressed his mouth to her stomach lit her body up with internal fireworks.
“You’re beautiful when you’re pregnant, you know?”
Viviana smiled, tugging gently on his hair. “So I’m not otherwise?”
Anton’s chuckles rocked between them. “You’re always beautiful, baby. But
, it’s not the same. Seeing you grow and feeling the baby move. I’ve missed so much of this already.”
“We’ve still got a little while to go,” Viviana assured. “You didn’t miss everything. Not the important bits, anyway.”
Anton traced circles over her stomach with his index finger. “Beautiful,” he repeated.
The deeper, huskier tone his voice took on reminded Viviana how long it had been since she heard her husband lustful and wanton. A shiver crept up her spine when Anton kissed below her navel, his tongue striking out to taste the spot he kissed.
Viviana didn’t stop him when Anton spread her thighs to step in between and drove her skirt up higher around her waist. She didn’t stop him when he tugged her panties down around her ankles, either, letting the already soaked fabric drop to the ground. Between the kisses he landed to her lips, Anton whispered the sweetest, most loving things.
Things Viviana had waited too long to hear again.
She was self-seeking. Dirty in a way her husband couldn’t possibly understand because she wouldn’t stop him at all. Even knowing once she told him the truth about her actions and choices regarding stripping, the judge, and the blackmail, Anton wouldn’t want to touch her again. So she didn’t stop him, because it very well might have been the last time he did.
All of Anton’s touches were deliberate and tender. Nothing like the rough, focused want he usually poured over his wife during their most intimate moments. While he unbuckled his pants and shuffled them down with the boxer-briefs he wore underneath, his hot, wet mouth stayed on hers the entire time.
Viviana reveled in the feeling of his warmth saturating her body as he took her with gentle, slow thrusts. Anton didn’t need to give her time to adjust to his cock, she was already more than ready for him. Needing to center herself to something, to stop the sway-like feeling taking over her senses, Viviana held tight to Anton’s jaw with both hands.
Their gazes locked like missiles and she watched every emotion flit over his face; watched his lashes fan his cheeks with every blink. As his breath washed over her mouth, Viviana’s picked up. Every stroke took her higher and every time their hips met, the tip of his cock hit the perfect spot to make her gasp.
Anton was usually so vocal with his dirty mouth and desire when they fucked. This time, though, it was only heady groans falling from his chest while he hooked her legs tighter to his waist and her soft moans urged him on.
In no time at all, Viviana was so close to her orgasm she could feel the starting effects of it running through her blood like a cloying poison. She didn’t get the chance to fly, though. Where her flats pressed to Anton’s back, she felt him tense with his own release just before his cock spilled in thick streams deep into her sex. Anton’s eyes shut as he held her tight to his cock, keeping her filled with him while he shook.
“Jesus Christ,” Anton mumbled.
Never had her husband come before her.
Viviana felt the orgasm she’d nearly had start to slip away at the same time Anton pulled out of her body. She didn’t have time to react before he was on his knees, grabbing her hips and pulling her body to the very edge of the Bugatti’s hood. Then, his mouth was covering her sex.
Sharp flicks of his tongue diving into her tight channel drove Viviana insane. She held tight to the metal of the car, her fingernails scratching against the expensive paint. With every swipe, she knew he wasn’t only tasting her, but himself as well.
It was another first for them both. Anton had never tasted his wife after he’d come inside her, but he didn’t seem to mind. It only turned Viviana on more to know their mingling fluids were what was coating his tongue. It left streaks of wetness on his cheeks as he looked up between her thighs with a desire fueled gaze that sent her spinning out of control.
When his thumb grazed her clit, and his tongue drove up inside her pussy again, Viviana let the fast rushing orgasm take over. As good as it felt, it also made her ache. Keeping his hands on her body, Anton rose to kiss his wife once more. Viviana couldn’t hide how much she enjoyed the taste of her own sex on his tongue as it slipped into her mouth.
Anton said nothing as he fixed her skirt and his own pants. Grabbing the forgotten jacket off the ground, he cleaned them both as well. Viviana was still trying to come back down from the high her emotions were running on.
“We’re being selfish,” Anton murmured.
Viviana turned to look at him, confused. “Why’s that?”
“People are probably waiting for us.”
“They can wait a little bit longer. We’re not moving until you’re ready to.”
Anton swallowed thickly, kissing the top of Viviana’s head. “Yeah, but I can’t wait much longer to see my son. It’s been too fucking long as it is. I owe that kid so goddamn much.”
Viviana knew she couldn’t keep what she’d done from her husband any longer. “I need to tell you something, Anton.”
Chapter Twenty
Anton wouldn’t meet her gaze when he asked, “What’s that?”
“This morning before I left, I told Demyan his father was coming home.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“No matter what, you were,” Viviana said firmly. “Today didn’t make a difference to the end result. If you went back to prison, we had it set up that the judge’s decision would be thrown out due to scandal and you would likely be released for a short time before they could bring charges again.”
“Vine …”
“You know I love you, right? Like crazy love you. Nobody else is worth to me what you are. Do anything for you. Drive myself insane, or hurt you to save you love you, Anton. I love you.”
Anton’s jaw clenched. “Whatever this is, I’m not going to like it, am I?”
Viviana shook her head, tears rising. “I’m sorry.”
“What kind of scandal?” Anton asked.
“One involving a woman.”
Anton’s eyebrows knitted together in his confusion. “That wouldn’t work, Vine. So it looks bad, big deal. He’s not the first man to be involved in that kind of thing.”
Viviana bit her lip and forced herself to speak. “It would if that woman was me.”
Instantly, Anton jerked away from his wife as if he’d been burned. It hurt like hell, but she let him do it. Pain and betrayal filled his blue eyes, darkening them with anger and disbelief.
“No, baby.”
In a rush of breath, Viviana told Anton everything. From the day Ivan approached her at the beach, to the plan itself, to how she followed it through at the strip club. Even as Anton stepped further back from her, far enough away that she couldn’t reach out to touch him, she kept talking. The words might as well have been vomit, for Christ’s sake. She couldn’t stop them.
By the time she was able to stop, Viviana wasn’t the only one crying.
“You did … Took your clothes … Allowed another man … Why …”
“I wasn’t with him. I didn’t do that, or anything like that, Anton. I just—”
“Stop talking.”
Anton struggled to find words, his gaze darting back and forth like a deer caught in the headlights. His fists had clenched into tight balls at his sides and from his shoes to his shoulders, he shook. Viviana knew that look, she knew what was happening. Anton was pissed. Finally, the anger burst out of him in a shout that made Viviana flinch.
“Get in the fucking car!”
Viviana slid off the hood without a word, stumbled on the gravel and all but fell into the passenger seat. She slammed the door closed without him telling her to. In two steps, those clenched fists of his snapped into the Bugatti’s hood with a force that rocked the vehicle. Viviana could see his knuckles had split open from the impact but that didn’t stop him from punching the car again.
Over and over he hit the metal, cursing at a level so loud and clear Viviana could still hear him even with the doors shut. Blood streaked over his hands and wrists, staining his dress shirt. Anton shouted out his rage until
his voice turned hoarse and his breaths came out ragged.
Oddly, Viviana wasn’t afraid of him, though.
After all, he’d been the one who ordered her into the car. Now, she knew why.
Outside the vehicle, Anton’s anger had simmered enough that he stopped hitting the hood and yelling, but his gaze was locked on Viviana’s.
“You let a man touch you,” she watched him mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Viviana whispered.
Above everything else she did, Viviana understood that because she had given another man access to her in a private way, it was what hurt and angered her husband the most.
“You let him see you.”
“Anton, please try to understand …”
“My wife! You’re my wife! Is that what you wanted, for me to think of you like your mother? Like a whore? Is that what you are? I don’t need or want a whore for a wife, Viviana.”
Viviana choked on the accusation, slamming back into the seat like he’d struck her with his hand instead of words. Sobs caught at the lump forming in her throat.
“I’ve never—”
“You took your clothes off for another man!” he roared.
“For you, Anton!”
“Fuck you,” Anton spat. “Don’t you even … Just, fuck you, Vine.”
***
The sharp tasting smoke from the weed Anton was smoking curled into the air in a thick stream of grey. In the night sky, it made its own cloud against the black backdrop. Sitting up on the stone side of the bridge, Anton watched the water of the creek rush below him.
It’d been seven days since he last seen his wife.
The hardest fucking seven days of his life.
He hadn’t even gone home, just made her drop him off at his club and that was that. He didn’t speak a word, even when she begged him to, even when she cursed at him to look at her, to come home to their son. No, nothing. Anton couldn’t.
It killed him to know his son was practically in arm's reach, but Anton couldn’t bear to be in that house. He knew why, also. It wasn’t safe for him to be there. Even though it disgusted him to feel the way he did, Anton wanted to hurt Viviana. Make her feel on the outside like she’d made him feel on the inside.
