Russian Next Door

by Flora Ferrari

  Although what’s been driving me today are the feeling I felt when his lips found mine yesterday…and how I ran.

  Falling for this man is definitely not part of the plan, mine or his I’m sure.

  But still I can’t stop thinking about it, about him, the passion with which his lips touched mine and how that feeling spread throughout my entire body.

  I feel my skin heat just thinking about it and I shake my head, hoping I can shake the memory of it in kind. No such luck.

  I stare out my window some more, waiting for Vasily’s return, and not long after 5 p.m. I’m awarded when I see him approaching his house via the sidewalk…but he doesn’t stop.

  He keeps on going…straight to my house.

  Oh crap!

  I hear his knuckles find my door and it has my back shooting up ramrod straight, just like the last time. It’s almost like I’m a child with a disciplinarian father who’s terrified each time he comes home from work everyday. But this is different. So much different.

  Strangely enough I like this feeling, this anticipation. And I’m not into the whole daddy thing, but there’s just something about this older man that feels safe. There’s something about his age that’s comforting. Something about the experience of his years that makes me naturally want to trust him more…and gravitate to him naturally.

  I quickly move down the stairs, trying not to fumble over my own feet.

  When I reach the door I can feel my heart already pounding in my chest. I reach for the door knob and see my hand is shaking.

  I take a deep breath, but my wobbly mitt only trembles a bit less and not enough to make a difference.

  He knows I’m on the other side of this door. He heard me come down the steps. I’ve used up all the time I have to get relaxed…and it didn’t work.

  I slowly open the door and am immediately greeted by the imposing figure that casts a big, long, wide shadow in the sun, which is low in the sky at this hour and time of year.

  “How was your day?” he says, skipping the formalities of a greeting, sounding as if he’s entered my fake home here hundreds of times after a day’s work. It’s almost as if my body wants to step to the side, welcome him home, and ask him if he feels like ordering pizza for a second time this week. Something is just so familiar about this, despite it never having happened before of course. I can see myself with this man way too easily…and it’s scary.

  “Busy,” I lie through my teeth. “You?”

  “A lot of sitting and now I feel like not sitting.”

  “Yeah, well…um…there’s a lot to do around here.”

  “If by here you mean about twenty miles southeast from here then yes, there is. And I’ve got reservations for two.”

  “Twenty miles southeast?” I say softly under my breath.

  “Nikki Beach.”

  It’s one of the swankiest clubs in all of the United States, and I hear their food is equally on par. As a public servant, a.k.a an F.B.I. trainee, with a base pay right at fifty thousand dollars a year I’m not starving and I’m certainly not complaining. But I’ve got college loans up to my eyeballs and I’m certainly not able to afford a place like Nikki Beach…and neither should he be able to.

  “Nikki Beach?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

  “Yeah, it’s just—“

  “Just that our reservations are in an hour and we need to hurry.”

  “Who said I’m going?”

  “You’ve yet to say you aren’t.”

  He’s right, but he also needs to be brought down a peg. “I haven’t said yes either because I haven’t been asked,” I shoot back. I feel the words “gather intel” just bounce around in my brain like a game of pinball. How can I turn down a chance to get time with him off-site? And how crazy is it that my “site” is this house and “off-site” is the club where every woman in South Florida is dying to get into.

  “Would you care to join me?”

  “I’m not sure I have the proper attire, in the first place.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “In this?”

  “You’re with me. You can wear whatever you want.”

  Is he connected there? How is that possible this quickly? “I’m not about to have other women shooting me nasty looks all night for underdressing, whether I deserve it or not.”

  “Then we’ll stop off and grab you a dress on the way over.”

  “Stop off? Do you even have a car? I mean, I don’t.”

  “A car is on the way.”

  “You…requested an Uber?”

  “A car. A proper car, like they do in New York.”

  I look at him, still not sure what all we’ve got on him and what he’s capable of. If I step inside a car with him I may never step out, although I find that pretty far fetched.

  “I might need to take some calls for work during that time.” I need an excuse to have my phone with me, and more importantly to have it out and be ready to use it. Just having it will allow the F.B.I. to follow my location, but I want more than that.

  “No problem.”

  My fingers tap nervously against my sides as I ponder actually doing this. Then again, what more is there to consider?

  I have to do this for work…right? It has nothing to do with the fact that he potentially sees this as a date. It’s just part of my job. I definitely don’t see it as anything more than that.

  If I keep telling myself that I might start to believe it.

  “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Vasily

  I stare at Amanda from across the table as I tug at the collar of my shirt.

  It’s not that Miami is so hot tonight. It’s her.

  I’ve been so busy with other things in my life that somewhere along the line I’ve never taken a woman out on a date. Then again it wasn’t because I was busy, it was because there was never the right woman…never the only woman.

  Until now.

  Even though I don’t know her that well I feel such an intense connection to her, and that’s what tonight is about. I want to take this beyond the physical desire, and beyond what I learned about her earlier today. I want to hear about her life from the source…her.

  “Everything okay?” she asks from over the top of her tri-color quinoa salad.

  I run my knife through my steak and jab a piece in my mouth. “Yeah, perfect.” Perfect didn’t even do justice to the way I felt right now. I couldn’t even put it into words. Just being here and knowing all these other sorry saps realize that I’m the one with the best woman in the place, or in any place she steps into for that matter.

  Showing her off gives me pride. I feel almost a sense of ownership, and I hope she feels the same.

  “Do you go on many dates?” It’s time to get her to open up and talk about herself a bit more.

  “Not really. I’m just too busy with work.”

  “This mysterious online work?”

  She smiles, and as much as I want to tease her some more or even grill her a bit, I can’t. That smile makes everything so damn right. That smile of hers could cure cancer, feed the poor, and put a man on the moon all at once. I know my head is in the clouds every time I think of her. That’s for damn sure.

  “That’s the one. But what about you? You’re doing social work, right?”

  “Just across the street. Do you know the place?”

  I’m not trying to dig up old memories or test her honesty, it just came out. I’m actually trying to act like I don’t know what I know about her, but now that I’ve opened my mouth I realize I’ve put my foot straight in it.

  She breathes out hard. “Yeah, you could certainly say that.”

  “Excuse me for one second.” I stand and make my way to the bathroom where I quickly splash water on my face. I need to calm down, and we also need a change in the conversation, but not one that’s too abrupt and obvious.

  I want to learn more about her, but I don’t want to push her.
Time. I need time, but I don’t know how much I’ve got and that complicates everything.

  I return to the table and we finish up our meal with some simple, yet enjoyable, conversation about the food, interior, vibe…all the normal stuff that two people playing a bit of a verbal cat and mouse game would talk about. In other words we talk about everything…and nothing at all.

  She excuses herself after dessert and I quickly handle the check so it doesn’t become a weird issue of fighting over who pays.

  I don’t have a problem at all with “the future is female,” but no way am I letting my lady pay on a date. I’m a man and it’s what men do no matter what generation we’re living in.

  As I sit at the table I think about my life, and my celibacy. The thought of it never crossed my mind before. I was never the type to give myself to someone else just for the sexual gratification of a few hours. I was way too focused on other things. But now? I want to give her every ounce of me…almost as bad as I want to take every ounce of her.

  I’d never thought about a woman in this way. I barely even spoke with women as it is, but that is about to end…with this woman. I want to make her mine…my woman, my wife, the mother of my children.

  Just the thought of it swirling around in my head makes me think I’m some sort of caveman. At this point I didn’t care. Being honest with myself was all that mattered. That and being honest with her.

  I catch myself tapping on the table wondering where she is. I don’t like the thought of her being gone so long, especially with all the douchebags I see in this place. The place seems nice, but as most places like this it seems to attract way more style than substance. The other guys in here look like they’re the kind to bring a date, yet try and make out with the girl’s best friend behind their back. Complete bullshit if you ask me. Those guys shouldn’t even be allowed to have balls, and they definitely shouldn’t be allowed to call themselves men.

  Suddenly I see her rounding the corner and my back straightens and my eyes open wider at the sight of her. Even through the mass of bodies which are starting to stand as the place turns from a restaurant into a club block my view a bit, my eyes fixate on her. If she were a drop of water in the ocean I’d still find her.

  She stops and my eyes narrow. Why would she stop right there in the middle of all those people?

  I see a man in a pastel suit with a smug grin on his face slide in front of her stopping her dead in her tracks and impeding her progress back towards me. She goes to move to the side to move away from him but he steps in her path.

  I’m out of my seat so fast the thing goes flying backward.

  This arrogant little bastard thinks he can speak to my woman, let alone try and take her from me?

  I feel my teeth grinding together, my jaws clenched as my legs take long wide strides as my hands ball up into fists.

  “Watch out,” one man whispers to his friends, as he wisely grabs them and pulls them out of my way.

  I watch as another guy looks up at me timidly and pushes his friend to the side clearing space for the beast that this creep a few feet in front of me has turned me into.

  As the crowd parts like the Red Sea, giving me a straight shot at the little prick I’m coming for, he seems to sense the imminent danger.

  Just as his head turns and catches sight of me I watch as his whole body pulls back as I drill holes straight through him with my stare.

  Despite his size the guy looks like he belongs in a salsa club dancing to Ricky Martin and it’s going to take everything inside me not to rearrange his feminine little face now that I’ve wiped that smirk right off it.

  His eyes dart to the floor, but it’s too late. I grab the lapels of his jacket and lift him into the air. The only thing he did right is get a good tailor, because the threads hold, but my patience isn’t.

  “What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You’re. Doing. Asshole.”

  “I…I’m…sorry, sir. I didn’t know—“

  “I didn’t know there were still complete assholes like you left in this world. When a lady wants to pass you let her pass…especially when she’s my lady.”

  A crowd has formed around us, including the bouncers but no one is stupid enough to step in.

  “Let’s stay calm, fellas,” one of the bouncers says.

  I turn and give him the same stare I gave this asshole. “Oh I’m calm, buddy. There’s ice in my veins right now so just step back and let a man handle his business.”

  The bouncer’s hand comes up and he wisely takes a step back.

  That cold blood I was talking about is now pumping white hot as I think about how much damage I want to do to this guy.

  “Let’s just go,” I hear my woman says as I feel her gentle touch on my side. “We didn’t come here to dance anyway. We can take a walk on the beach.”

  I look down at her and damn if she doesn’t immediately have a calming effect on me. But still, this garbage isn’t getting off that easy.

  “Apologize to the lady,” I say.

  “I’m sorry for blocking your way.”

  “Don’t forget the part about being a douchebag.”

  “I’m sorry,” he adds, his pussy friends not even stepping in to help him.

  “Sorry for what?” I growl.

  “I’m sorry for being a douchebag.”

  “And you’re not going to do it again, are you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “To any woman.”

  “To any woman. No, sir. I won’t do it again.”

  I release my grip and his feet quickly find the floor but his legs buckle and his ankles must twist because he falls on his ass.

  “Let’s go,” Amanda says and I take her hand and lead her straight toward the exit.

  “Thanks, brother,” one of the bouncers says as if we’re lifting buddies in the gym, as we pass through the front door. “Never liked that prick, but his dad’s so connected we can’t lay a finger on him. Glad someone finally did.”

  “And I’ll do a lot worse if I ever see him trying something like that again.”

  The bouncers give me a nod, but I don’t bother returning it. I don’t care who that scum is, you always step in and help a woman no matter the possible consequences.

  “Vasily, was that really necessary?” Amanda says as we step out into the parking lot and make our way toward the sand.

  “Protecting what matters to a man is always necessary. Screw that guy and screw this kind of place that attracts guys like him who think they can go around hitting on women and harassing them in the process.”

  It may look like I’ve completely lost my mind like some kind of savage, and in some ways I have. But when it comes to her and keeping her safe, you’re damn right this caveman is more than ready to use his club without warning and without a second thought because she’s the only thing that matters.

  CHAPTER 9

  Amanda

  I try and guide Vasily the short distance to the beach but the reality is he’s way too big and strong for me to even fool myself into thinking I have any effect whatsoever.

  Vasily had caused a bit of a scene back there. The last thing I need is to explain to my bosses why something like that went down and why an F.B.I. agent was involved, and now has a police record. I doubt I would have gotten in any trouble in that moment, but things escalate quickly so you never know. And I know I’m not about to throw my career out the window before it even gets off the ground.

  I also know that when Vasily did what he did it turned me on beyond belief. The idea that a man would stand up for me like that is mind-blowing. I’m not sure if I’d call myself traditional or not, but he was definitely my knight in shining armor. That guy was annoying and wasn’t ready to take no for an answer…until it came from Vasily.

  And the dampness in my panties is reminding me that something else almost came from Vasily at that moment. Me.

  I still can’t let that kind of behavior fly though. As we walk along the sand I try and use my body language and lack of
words to show him I don’t appreciate what just happened back there, regardless or not of how my body responded.

  I glance over at him and see his muscles flexing underneath his white button down. There’s a slight breeze and it’s pressing the fabric against his body, leaving little to the imagination. I can tell he’s still angry about what happened but I almost wonder if he’s upset that I stepped in. Did he want to beat that guy up? And did he want to do it for sport, or for me?