Page 44 of Dancing With Distraction

Vivian squeals in delight, bouncing on my knee like a little schoolgirl. “I’ll get to work with planning. Don’t make any arrangements this afternoon, Dmitry, I need your opinion on some things.”

I can think of a hundred other things I would rather be doing this afternoon than making wedding plans. “I’m happy with whatever you choose, Vivian.” I lift her from my knee and place her back on my office chair. I make my way around the desk to shake hands with Ronnie and my father. “Invitations will follow shortly,” I mutter.

My father leans in close to my ear. “Don’t fuck this up, Dmitry.” I smile tightly, letting him know I’ve heard his warning.

An hour later, I’m sitting behind my desk, staring into my glass of whiskey, when Vivian walks in with her laptop open. She places it on the desk, and I scan the floral arrangements on the screen. As she points out some roses that apparently will go well against the colour of the bridesmaid dresses, I zone out from her excited chatter. If this is what my life has become, looking at fucking floral arrangements, then maybe I should just let my father kill me. It would be less painful.

She leans over me to scan through the website and her breast brushes against my arm. She’s clearly trying to gain my attention, but it does nothing for me. All I can envision right now is Victoria bound and gagged, her sexy eyes pleading with me to let her come, and my cock stiffens. Vivian looks down at the obvious bulge and smiles, probably thinking she’s triggered the reaction. What does she think I am, a goddamn schoolboy?

“We can leave the planning until later if you like, and I can sort that for you instead,” she whispers, blinking her long lashes seductively.

I shudder. “No. You have a wedding to arrange.” She frowns, but my phone vibrates before she can reply. I turn it to see the screen, noting it’s a message from Victoria. Vivian sees it too, and she huffs before snatching her laptop up and storming from the office. I sigh in relief and open the message from Victoria.

Victoria: Fancy coming over Saturday? I’ll cook. I just want to say thank you for everything. Your krasota X

I can’t stop the wide grin as it spreads across my face. I love that she’s using my nickname for her. And I’d love to spend the weekend with her, but knowing I now have to lie to her has me groaning out loud in frustration.

Me: Sorry, I’m out of London on business this weekend. How about next? D X

Victoria: Sure thing x

I open the surveillance app again with the urge to see her and check what she’s up to. I find her in the kitchen in nothing but her underwear, and my cock twitches back to life. I long to run my tongue through her folds, tasting her addictive juices.

Vivian saunters back into my office without knocking. It’s probably her way of telling me she isn’t happy about my text exchange. I lower my phone back onto the desk and stand abruptly. Her smile fades. “Don’t you fucking knock?” I spit angrily at her complete disregard for my space. She laughs nervously, approaching me with caution. “Sorry, Sir,” she whispers, and I realise she’s trying to get my attention by submitting. “I just wanted to show you this dress for our engagement.” She lingers longer than needed on the word ‘engagement’ then twirls in a short black dress. I hadn’t even noticed it until she said. The corset-style dress accentuates her figure in all the right places. It’s the type of outfit that would have had me going wild two weeks ago, but now, all I can think about is Victoria.

“It’ll do.” I sit back down, grabbing my whiskey. She circles behind me and massages my shoulders, but instead of relaxing me, I tense under her touch. I made a promise to Victoria that I wouldn’t sleep with Vivian and I intend to uphold that.

“You’re very stressed, Dmitry. Why don’t we visit the dungeon?” She runs her long, manicured fingers through my hair, and I close my eyes. “I know the perfect way for you to get rid of all that tension.” Her hand slides down my front, headed for my cock, but I grab her wrist, pulling her forward.

Anger radiates off me. “I’m sick of telling you, shlyukha, don’t fucking touch me without my permission. And I wouldn’t be so fucking stressed if you didn’t land a fucking engagement party on me at the drop of a hat.” I release her wrist and stand up, knocking my chair against her. “Just because I have to fucking marry you doesn’t mean I love you or even like you. And I certainly won’t pretend I do.”

“Sorry, Sir.” She looks hurt by my words, and I know deep down this isn’t her fault any more than it is mine. But I’m pissed, and she’s getting the brunt of it. She leaves my office without another word, and finally, I’m alone. When did things get so fucking complicated?

Tori

Emily clinks glasses with me then Ashley. “It feels weird without Phoebe,” she says. “You two have been inseparable for months.”

Thinking of Phoebe makes my heart twist painfully. I miss her and I hate that we’ve fought, but if she’s keeping Marcus in her life, then I can’t be anywhere near her. I’ve spent hours agonising over whether I should tell her the truth or not, but after everything my parents put me through, I’m terrified she won’t believe me. After all, she didn’t believe me when I said he was a bad person, which means he’s already gotten to her and twisted things.

I glance around the busy bar before forcing a smile. “It’s packed out in here tonight.”

“Yeah, I think we should head to Kat’s,” Ashley suggests.

I haven’t told the girls about my situationship with Dmitry. It’s not a secret, and the girls would go wild if they knew half the stuff we’d gotten up to, but I can’t risk it getting back to Phoebe and then Marcus.

I already know Dmitry’s away this weekend, so the risk of bumping into him and having to explain myself is nil. I stand, draining the last of my drink. “Let’s go.”

We take the short walk to the bar, slowing when we see there’s no queue outside. “That’s weird,” mutters Ashley. “We always have to wait to get in here.”

As we draw closer, we can see people inside but the door is closed. A security man on the inside of the door opens it slightly. “Private function,” he tells us.

“Aww, come on,” groans Emily. “Can’t you sneak us in? We’re your best customers.”

He grins. “Sorry, it ain’t worth my job.”

“I thought you couldn’t hire this place out anyway,” adds Ashley. “That’s what I got told when I wanted it for my birthday.”

“This ain’t just for anyone,” he says with a wink. “It’s the big boss.”

---