I hate it.
I lie and tell the stylist I love it, though. It isn’t her fault Catia told her what to do, that she told her to cut my once long blonde hair, hair I knew Maxim liked.
“What do you think Maxim will say?” Sonia asks as we drive back to the house. She doesn’t seem nervous for me, but she does seem a bit apprehensive.
It is now dark, well past eight in the evening, but I’m not worried Maxim will even know I am out late. I don’t expect his return until sometime around two in the morning again. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since he woke me up upon his late return to question me about my sleeping pills.
“Nothing,” I say matter-of-factly as we pull into the circle drive. Sonia grasps my hand and her pretty green eyes search mine.
“I fear I shouldn’t have allowed them to dye and cut your hair, Haleigh,” she says as she starts chewing her bottom lip. The fact that she seems so worried about it causes my stomach to churn.
“Catia was the one who made the appointment. If he doesn’t like it, he can take it up with her. I am sure he will not have a problem doing so,” I say sharply.
Somewhere between my massage and my haircut, I have grown a bit of a backbone. I think I like it. I am so tired of being weak.
Maybe it is the fact that my confidence is obliterated?
Maybe it is the fact that my own husband snuck away to another woman just days after our wedding?
Maybe it is because I am tired of the charade?
“You have my number, sweet girl. Call me if you need to,” she offers.
I nod and smile, thanking Sonia for the day—the best day I have ever had in my life. I feel like Sonia could truly be a friend to me.
“Oh, Haleigh, dear,” she calls out. I turn to face her.
“Tomorrow, we lunch, and I will introduce you to some of the others. Pick you up at eleven.” She waves and speeds off down the road.
Yes, Sonia is my first friend. She makes me feel good just by being in her presence—and she doesn’t sleep with Maxim, which is a plus.
The house is dark when I make my way inside. I let out a breath, glad that Yulia is already gone for the evening. I don’t want her to ruin my decent day by being her horrible normal self. I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and am startled when I turn the light on.
I find Maxim standing at the sink, seething, and looking in my direction.
“Where have you been?” he demands, his voice low, deep, growly, and accusatory.
“With Sonia, at the spa,” I say dismissively.
I am so very tired, and we have only been married a few days; I cannot imagine this relationship will last much longer. I hope that he just leaves me alone sooner rather than later at this point.
“What the fuck have you done to your hair?” he roars, his eyes wide, and his nostrils flaring.
I calmly set the glass of water down on the countertop and brace myself. I have never seen anybody so angry in my life. I don’t know him well enough to know what he is or is not capable of. I try to prepare myself for what will undoubtedly be a huge fight.
“Your friend, Catia, made the appointment yesterday. She told the stylist what to do. You know, before you went to her place and fucked her,” I yell out before I slap my hand over my mouth in shock.
I cannot believe I actually said those words. It isn’t like me. This strong woman who just called Maxim out on the carpet is not me at all. Maxim takes a step back, his eyes wide, mirroring my surprise.
“What did she tell you?” His voice is back to soothing.
“She didn’t have to tell me anything. She made sure I heard your little phone conversation. She doesn’t know you as I do—she cannot possibly take care of you the way I can. Maxim, the girl has no breasts. I mean, honestly, it must be like fucking a boy. I need you inside of me, and I know you don’t love her. Hell, you fucked me the day of your wedding, if I recall correctly. Come to me tonight and let me make you feel good,” I repeat her words verbatim. I couldn’t forget them even if I tried.
I then watch as Maxim’s face pales.
“Haleigh …” He reaches out for me, but I take a step back and feel wetness sliding down my cheeks.
Oh no, oh God, I am crying. I have already cried today. This can’t be happening … I only allow myself to cry once a day, dammit. I shake my head and run upstairs to the bedroom. Once inside of the room, I look around and know that I cannot stay here. I like it in here, I liked being in Maxim’s arms, but now the whole place makes me sick. If I had somewhere else to go, I would leave.
“Haleigh,” Maxim murmurs from behind me. I turn around to face him. His face looks pained, and I want to feel sorry for him, but I can’t and I won’t.
“Why did you marry me, Maxim? If you didn’t want me, why did you do it? I was never under any illusion that you loved me, but I thought that in time maybe you could. If you are going to have affairs, why even be with me?”
I am crying earnestly now, my tears uncontrollable. I am sure it is a complete ugly cry, but I can’t help it. Once the seal has been broken, I cannot control my tears.
“You’ll make yourself sick, Haleigh. You need to calm down,” Maxim whispers against my ear as he scoops me up into his arms and carries me to the bed.
I lie there in our gigantic king-size bed with Maxim wrapped around the back of me. His big arms holding me, arms that once made me feel so safe.
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” I whisper staring at the wall.
“You cannot leave. You are my wife.” Maxim’s voice is stern, but I can hear a touch of panic laced throughout his words.
“I don’t want to be anything to anybody. I just want this life to be over,” I confess.
My eyelids are like concrete, and they close as I slip into sleep.
My body is so very tired.
I AM A FUCKING idiot. How did I think that I could fuck Catia dirty and come home to my sweet wife, without feeling remorse, or without her finding out? I have never had to answer to a woman before.
I honestly thought Haleigh would not find out. If she did, I could just tell her to shut up about it and accept her life, as so many men do in my position. But as soon as the first tear fell, I knew I could never say that to her. I hurt her and that kills me.
Haleigh holds a special place in my heart. Seeing her cry, seeing her body shake with sobs over something I caused pains me so badly. Maybe I am weak and maybe I am just too soft toward her. She is so small and fragile that I do not want her to hurt, ever, but I did.
I shattered her.
Holding her in my arms, I think about Sonia and Pasha. I have never known Pasha to stray. He loves Sonia. Though it is rare in our line of work to stay committed to one woman, it works for them. Sonia is so much different from Haleigh, though. Sonia is strong where my Haleigh is weak.
Sonia knows the life, she understands what Pasha has been through, and she knows how to handle him in and out of the bedroom. Haleigh would probably cry if I fucked her from behind as I wrapped my hand around her throat. She would probably break at the thought of my cock sliding into her tight asshole.
Sometimes, I need a rough fuck. Haleigh is too gentle, too small and scared for all of me. That is the reason I went to Catia in the first place. I had had a shit day. Catia just likes to be fucked, and I needed to be rough. There is no emotion there whatsoever. In fact, I despise Catia as a person.
Push all of that aside, and Haleigh has no clue that she can never leave me. I own her, but I want her to enjoy this life we share. Just because she has no choice does not mean that she has to be miserable.
I must make her happy again because when she smiles, it does something to my heart. It makes it beat again. My heart never truly beat, not until the moment Haleigh’s lips touched mine in that church.
A woman, soft and gentle like her, could make a saint turn to sinning.
As for her hair? Catia is officially fired.
Once Haleigh’s breathing becomes heavy and slo
w, I strip her of the clothing she is wearing. Her dress is too short but of expensive quality. It must be one of the new things she bought. I look down at her wearing only a strapless bra and panties. She is thin, yes, but she does not look like a boy. Not even close. I prefer my women to be curvy, but Haleigh is beautiful and she has kept her body this way for dance. Now that she is not dancing, she will fill in and the promise of what her body will look like has me beyond thrilled.
“Pasha, I fucked up,” I say into the phone as I close the bedroom door behind me. Pasha is like a father to me; he is my boss and my friend.
“Sonia tells me such news already.” Pasha sounds pissed, and I don’t understand.
“It … it is new …” I do not know what else to say.
“You don’t talk,” Pasha barks harshly. “Sonia likes your wife, this Haleigh creature. I know how she came to be as such, but Sonia tells me she is innocent and sweet. A rarity in our world, no? I suspect this is the reason you accepted her over money?” His question lingers, but I refuse to answer it.
“Sonia also tells me she seems very fragile and knows about your indiscretion already. You make this right, Maxim. Sonia will have your balls, and mine, if you hurt this girl any more. Be a husband to her or cut her loose, Maks. You cannot have both unless you hide it much better than you did,” he reprimands. I nod as if Pasha can see me.
“Haleigh is innocent and sweet—pure, before she came to me. I had to deal with Sergei yesterday evening and was not in a place to go home to my sweet wife. I accepted Catia’s offer and fucked her rough. Haleigh showed me tonight how badly it hurt her, so I do not plan to do that again,” I state.
Talking about feelings is not something I usually do, but with Pasha, it is all right. Pasha knows everything. He knows details of my past that no other man has knowledge of.
“Tell her what you need. Show her how she can help you, and if she is a good woman like my Sonia says she is, she will do what you need and be what you need, Max. You have rare opportunity here. A pure woman to make your own. Guide her to what you need,” he says, his meaning not lost on me.
I thank Pasha for his advice and hang up the phone, taking a deep breath before I go back into the bedroom.
Stripping my own clothes off, I look at my beautiful Haleigh, my golubushka, curled in a protective ball— hiding from me. I slide into bed behind her and slowly roll her body to her back.
I need to make it up to her—how I hurt her, how I pretty much bought her without her knowledge. I have grown a conscience in the past few days and that doesn’t sit well with me.
I begin to kiss Haleigh’s neck, her chest, and down the middle of her body to her panties. I hook my thumbs in the sides of the pretty lace covering her body and slide them down her long toned legs. Once the garment is off, I gently spread her thighs and stare at her perfect pussy. A cunt that only I have touched, licked, and fucked.
It makes me hard to know I am the only man who has been inside of her. I am a bastard, but she is mine and will forever be mine. I lick her entire center, tasting her before I suck her perfect little clit into my mouth. I don’t stop, alternating between licking and sucking even when I feel her jolt awake in surprise. Haleigh’s hands fly into my hair and pull my head back. I allow it, just this one time. I know that she must feel like she has some kind of control after I have hurt her.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes are wide, bloodshot, and puffy. A stab of guilt washes through me. I made her look like this.
“Apologizing for my behavior, moya golubka,” I explain.
“By doing this? The same things you did to her?”
She is struggling, trying to break free from me, but my hands wrap firmly around her thighs and she will not be free.
“You think I fuck her with my mouth?” I ask. Her green eyes widen at my words. I watch as the tears well up again. “I would never do that. Not with her. Not with anybody but my wife,” I explain as though this should make her feel better.
Shouldn’t it?
“Should I be happy about that fact? That you would put yourself inside of her but refrain from using your mouth on her? I don’t see much of a difference,” she says, her eyes narrowing on me.
She is feisty, my sweet, innocent ballerina wife, and I like it.
“It was wrong that I went to her, especially when the person I wanted was you. I will not do it again. You must believe me. What I did to her was not lovemaking. It was rough, and it was almost cruel. I did not want to do that to my sweet wife,” I admit. Her eyes snap to mine. I see a fire in them that I have not seen in the time I have been around her, and I fucking love it.
“So you made a decision for me then? Why does everybody make decisions for me? Let me make my own fucking decisions, Maxim,” she screams, her fists hitting my shoulders. I slide up to wrap her small body in my arms.
“All right, moya golubka, you make decisions now, yes? No more tears. Whatever decisions you want to make, I let you make,” I croon in her ear rocking her nude body with mine.
“I never want to see Catia again,” she whispers. I nod.
“Never again. I will not see her, and you will not see her.”
“I want to be enough for you, Maxim,” she mutters. It is so low and full of such hurt that I feel myself physically pained that I have done this to her.
“You are my Haleigh. I will prove this to you,” I vow.
We fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
I hold my broken and beautiful wife. I vow to myself that I will take care of her and I will make her happy for the rest of her days. Never again will she feel this deeply hurt, not about this.
I vow here and now that the only pussy I will sink my cock inside will be my wife’s. I only hope that she can handle all I will give her. My life has not been one of normalcy; it has not been good, and sometimes, I take that out on whomever I fuck.
I hope that my little ballerina will be strong enough.
I WAKE UP WITH a weight bearing down on my body; it is so heavy that I cannot even roll over. Cracking one of my eyes open, I wince at the dryness. I have never cried so much in my life. My head aches from the tears, my eyes are dry, and I can tell they are swollen. I look around, unable to move anything but my dry swollen eyes, and see that there is a tanned, tattooed arm with golden hair wrapped around me, holding me firmly in my spot.
This is the first time we have woken up together since our wedding weekend, and my stupid body loves it. I slowly try to wiggle out from underneath him when I feel his muscles tighten and pull me even closer. He buries his face in the back of my hair and I revel in the feeling of him being so close, showing me affection. I feel so stupid for relishing in his slight affections, knowing that this is the most affection I have ever been given and I am starving for his touch.
“Stay here with me, my beautiful wife. Let me hold you.” His words are hushed, soft and sweet.
No matter how badly he has hurt me, I cannot deny him anything, which I know will be my demise and downfall. I roll over in his arms, facing him. His blue eyes are softer than they have been in the past. His face is relaxed from sleep, and his blond hair tousled. He looks like a dream come true.
“I will not hurt you like this again. You must believe me,” he murmurs. His hand trails lightly up and down my spine. I want to purr like a kitten, it feels so good.
“This is new for both of us, and we will make mistakes, Maxim, but I don’t want to be that foolish woman whose husband sleeps around on her. I know what we have is not love. Maybe one day it will be, but for now, can our relationship start by having respect for each other? I will respect you and be with only you and do the things you wish of me as long as you do the same.
“I know you are a man and are not used to answering to anyone, and I don’t want you to answer to me, just this one thing is all I ask. Respect me enough to be with only me; and if you can’t do that, if you feel that I am lacking in something, come to me and we can make different arrangements,” I say, tryi
ng to keep my voice soft.
Inside, my stomach is fluttering with nerves and fear at what his response will be. By the end of my speech, Maxim has gone from relaxed and lackadaisical to tense and taut.
“No other arrangements will be needed, golubushka. You and I together,” he affirms. I place my hand on his cheek and rub his bottom lip with my thumb before I smile.
“Yes, you and I together, Maxim.” I lean in and kiss him lightly right before all hell breaks loose.
“Get your pathetic, lazy ass up. Mr. Maxim doesn’t want a lazy, fat cow for a wife,” Yulia barks.
Maxim sits straight up to look at her. Yulia’s step inside of our bedroom falters a bit as she sees Maxim’s bare chest sitting up next to me in bed. I wrap the sheet around my naked body and lean my back against the headboard. I almost smile at the look of panic on her face.
All of a sudden, Maxim starts barking in perfect, rapid Russian. I have come to love that sound from his lips. I have no clue whatsoever what he’s saying, but it’s music to my ears. I watch as the loss of color to Yulia’s face becomes significant. I honestly don’t think what Maxim is telling her is anything good, and it shouldn’t be. She’s a horribly mean person. Her bottom lip trembles and my initial reaction is to feel sorry for her, but I can’t. She has been heinous to me for days, and she deserves everything Maxim is saying to her, whatever that may be.
Once Maxim stops talking, I see Yulia nod once and then turn to walk away. Her cream-colored suit barely makes it out of the room before Maxim’s angry gaze focuses on me.
“She talks to you like that and you don’t tell me?” His accent is thick, his voice deep, and rough. I know that he is pissed.
“I didn’t want to bother you. I am used to it.” My eyes dart around, unwilling to focus on his. I can’t.
“Look at me,” he demands, so I do. I lift my eyes, and they clash with his angry gaze.
Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 1) Page 6
