Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Authors note: fancy Rose meeting Dimitri in a western bar huh? Anyway the story continues!
Chapter 7
Dimitri, As it turned out, had taken a cab to the airport, so she didn't have to worry about driving with him in the icy rain after he'd had more drinks than she could keep track of. His apartment wasn't far, just as he'd promised, and though the frigid wind took her breath away and nearly knocked her over between the cab and the foyer, inside the building was delicious and warm. Beautiful too, with a lovely art deco feeling to the décor.
Dimitri nodded at the doorman. "Evening, Hans."
"Evening, Sir." Hans obviously knew how to be discreet, because he gave Rose a polite nod, then let his gaze slip away from her as though she were invisible.
In the elevator, both of them faced the door and stood with at least a foot of space between them. If he kissed her, she thought, she wouldn't open her mouth. If he touched her, she would put her hands on his to keep them still before she put some space between them. The door opened. Dimitri let her go first, then pointed to the left and down the hall. His key slid into the lock with a metallic click that sent a rush of sudden, trembling emotion all through her.
This was real. This was her.
Before it could overwhelm her, this understanding that she really was going to go inside a stranger's apartment, Dimitri got the door open and ushered her through. He closed the door behind them, locked it and tossed his keys into a small bowl set on an ornate table just inside the door. If he kissed her, she thought…. But he didn't.
"Let me hang up your coat. I'll put you bag here too." He opened a narrow door, a closet, and tugged on a string to light a bare bulb. There was just enough room for her things. For one panicky moment, Rose almost didn't let him take her coat or give him her carry-on. In the bars when she was looking for a hookup, her suitcase was her anchor. Her excuse to leave if she wanted to. Here and now, there'd be no 'oh sorry, have a plane to catch.' No quick escape, and it would be even longer to leave if she had to fish around for her belongings before she did. "Roza?" His Russian accent seemed thicker as he looked at her expectantly.
"Oh, sorry. Right." She shrugged out of her wet, cold coat and let him put her bag on the floor beneath it, but out of the way to avoid any dripping. Her wallet too. She rubbed at her arms with a nervous laugh. "Chilly."
"Come into the kitchen. It's usually warmer there. Hungry?" he asked over his shoulder as she followed him down the narrow, high-ceilinged hall and into the kitchen.
"Starving, actually." She put a hand on her stomach, which was jumping with nerves as well as hunger.
He smiled. "I can make something. Nothing fancy. Spaghetti? Garlic bread?"
Oh, exactly the right thing for an intimate interlude. She laughed, wondering again if she'd misjudged him. "Sure. Sounds great. What can I do to help?"
"Salad in the fridge, if you want to put that together."
They moved together expertly, stepping out of each-others way as he puttered with the pot of water and she rinsed the lettuce and cut the tomatoes to add to a large stoneware crock he handed her from the cupboard. He poured her a glass of wine she wasn't sure she wanted after two Manhattans, but she took it anyway and sipped. It was good, even to someone who didn't usually like wine.
They ate together from mismatched plates and flatware at an antique-looking table in the small dining room. Dimitri kept her glass filled. His too. He twirled a fork of spaghetti and held it out for her. Later, when Rose did the same for him with a bite of cheesecake he'd pulled from the freezer to thaw during dinner, he circled her wrists with his fingers and held her hand steady while he bit the dessert.
He didn't let go. If he kissed her, she thought, she would slide herself onto his lap and straddle him. She'd taste wine and garlic and cheesecake on his tongue and it would be delicious. She would rock her cunt against his cock and urge his hands to grip her ass and hold her closer. If he kissed her.
He let go of her wrist, but not her gaze. His tongue touched the centre of his bottom lip for a second. He blinked, blinked again, something faltering in his gaze. He'd snagged her with it before, but now he was letting her go. "Roza…"
She never gave them her real name, and this was one of the reasons why. When she was someone else, it didn't matter what they said or did, all those men who didn't know her. It didn't matter who they thought she was. Natalie, Lavinia, Suzanne, Amy, Lisa, Karen, Debbie.
"Shhh." She shook her head, willing him not to say anything else. She didn't want to hear him tell her this had been a mistake, that she should go, or worse, that she could stay anyway. "Dimitri, Shh."
He closed his eyes for a moment, brow furrowed against some small pain. When he opened them she saw desire, but also something else. Guilt, she thought. Anxiety of some kind. It alarmed her enough to push back a little, the legs of her chair squeaking on the tile floor.
"I want to kiss you so much right now." Dimitri said in a low, rough voice on the edge of breaking. He blinked rapidly and licked his bottom lip again. "I just… want…so much…"
This she understood. This she knew. Rose drew in a breath, mind racing even as her heart thumped faster. "So kiss me, Comrade."
He gave his head the smallest shake, not quite a denial. More as though he found himself not unwilling, but incapable. His fingers gripped the edge of the table. Rose got up carefully, making sure not to scrape the chair on the floor any more than she had done. Now he had to tip his head to look up at her, though he didn't otherwise move. She took a step back, then another. Dimitri stayed motionless except for the rise and fall of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.
"I'll get a cab," Rose said quietly. "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious. It was nice… meeting you, Comrade." The words felt stale and sour, certainly not sincere, but this was awkward enough without her trying to escape without at least an attempt at civility.
In the hallway, she let her hands shake as she tugged her still-damp coat from the hanger and lifted her bag. She screamed when she straightened and closed the closet door to find Dimitri directly on the other side. He looked as startled as she was, and he caught one of her flailing arms to keep her from knocking into the mirror hung on the wall next to the closet. Babbling words rose to her lips, a string of some senseless apologies on a stutter of breath. The adrenaline rush of fear pushed her heartbeat into an even faster, unsteady rhythm. Made her light-headed and spinny, her feet slipping a little on the wet floor. "You scared me." She put a hand on her heart, fingers slightly curled, and gave a self-conscious laugh.
"I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, which he had taken out of the ponytail. "I'm an idiot."
"You're not." She pressed her palm against her chest for another moment before touching his arm. "Really."
They both looked down at the touch of her fingertips on his bare skin. He was warmer than she'd expected, or maybe it was because she was so suddenly chilled. Her nipples tightened, and she was sure he could see them. She wanted to let him go, she knew she should let go, but as Dimitri stepped closer and pulled her into his arms, all Rose could do was hold him tighter.
"I want to kiss you." He murmured with his mouth all at once so close to hers that every word he spoke sent a shivery breath across her lips. "I just…"
Rose didn't waste more time with words. She moved against him so there'd be nothing for him to do but let his mouth press hers. It was as sweet as it was strange, that first kiss. It lasted a few seconds before he broke it, eyes closed, not moving more than a breath away. She didn't have time to count even a heartbeat before he was kissing her again, harder this time, but not rough. Her mouth opened as her hands slid up and over his firm chest to link behind his neck.
He tasted as good as she'd imagined, maybe better because she'd been so sure she wouldn't find out. He backed her up a step, then another, his mouth never leaving hers. The wall pressed against her back, Dimitri's body a delicious counter pressure at her front. Whatever had stopped him before had gone away. His hands moved over her breasts, belly, hips. One centred on her lower back as the other cupped the back of her neck. His tongue stroked hers.
This kiss ended with them both panting, breathless. He stared into her eyes, and she was close enough now to see the chocolate swirls in his irises and the thick black fringe of his lashes. He licked his mouth again as he tilted his head to angle his mouth toward hers, but he stopped just before kissing her again.
"It's okay," she whispered. "I want to."
She never wondered what the men thought when she went with them to their hotel rooms or to shadowy corners. She never cared. She wasn't interested in knowing them any more than she assumed they wanted to know about her. Already she'd spent more time learning Dimitri than she had any man since… well, since Joshua. And all of that in the past few months.
Dimitri's thumb stroked her jawline. The hand at the small of her back pressed her against the thickness in his groin. He brushed his mouth along her cheek to nuzzle at her ear, his breath hot. His shoulders lifted and fell with a sigh before he mouthed her neck. Her head tipped back at the wet slide of his tongue on her skin, then the nip of his teeth along her collarbone. "Yes," she breathed, and gave herself up to each small pleasure. "Like that."
Desire had become the one true constant in her life, the only feeling she could count on never to disappoint her. Desire required nothing from her. No investment. No responsibility. All desire wanted was to be sated. It was physical, and therefore, could be killed.
She pushed his hand between her legs, the denim an inconvenient and unaccustomed barrier. Still, when his knuckles rubbed at the seam of her jeans, it pressed her clit so sweetly she bit her lip with pleasure. His mouth returned to hers, the kiss teasing and taunting her until all she could do was open her mouth and let him take it however he wanted. Dimitri worked her button free, then the zipper. He slid his fingers into her panties and unerringly found her clit. He dipped a little lower to slide along her folds, then up again. She wasn't quite wet, and Dimitri withdrew his hand long enough to slick his fingers with his mouth before sliding them again into her panties. It was such a simple thing, not showy, just practical, but lust pulsed through her, making her throb around his fingers as he pushed them inside her.
Dimitri shuddered a little against her, his tongue dipping inside her mouth before he broke the kiss again. He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. Pinned by his hands behind her neck and between her legs, Rose could only return the look. His mouth teased hers. "Bedroom, down the hall."
She followed him, their fingers linked. His room was sparely furnished with a bed on a Hollywood frame, no head or footboard, made up with a plain blue comforter and several pillows in white cases. A small bedside table, a match of the one in the hall, held a lamp with a plain white shade, a utilitarian-looking black clock with red numbers, and a tissue box. The dresser in one corner and the surprisingly beautiful armoire in the other were antiques too, of softly curving wood inlaid with a pretty pattern and equally lovely ornate handles. No curtains, just plain white roller shade. Through the narrow doorway, past the black wooden door with the crystal knob, she could see what looked like a white-and-black-tiled bathroom. The hint of a claw-foot bath.
Inside the room, Dimitri let go of her hand. He gestured to the bathroom. "If you want to…"
"Oh. Sure, yeah." She definitely could use the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and ran the water in the sink, which had the cutest old-fashioned taps. She didn't peek inside his medicine cabinet, though she wanted to. She blotted her face, studying her reflection.
She could still keep track of the number of men she'd fucked. She didn't need to know or remember their names to recall the taste of each of them. The length and thickness of their pricks. The smell of their cologne. She didn't have to be able to pick them out of a crowd for each one of them to have been imprinted on her in some way. They'd all left their mark.
But not on Rose. On someone else, whoever she was when she put on the lipstick and the lace, she could escape her past and present, be someone not so damaged. Rose didn't walk in those high-heeled pumps, but Rose's face was what looked at her in the mirror now. What the fuck was she doing?
Rose gripped the sink with both hands and listened to the rush of water with her eyes closed for a moment or two. She should walk out. Get her coat and wallet and carry-on the way she'd meant to, call a cab. Leave this apartment and this man behind her, no matter how sweet his kiss. His touch.
She used the toilet and then automatically used the sink again to clean herself. She laughed, the sound low and shaky, as her fingertips moved in the heat of her flesh. She could tell herself whatever she wanted, but she was going to go out there and fuck him, because something inside her made her helpless to stop herself. Because she wanted to fuck him. She wanted to.
That was the simple truth of it, and she could be ashamed, or she could be honest. She could be brave and bold, she could be a little crazy, or she could embrace this desire, because she certainly could not deny it.
Rose looked at herself again. This was who she was, even without the hair, the makeup, the clothes. Here she was.
She slipped out of her cardigan to be in just the tank top beneath, her nipples already jutting against the thin fabric. She had gone braless today, though she normally didn't. the granny panties were going to be bad enough. If she'd worn the bra she'd packed, wash-worn and faded, she'd have been too embarrassed to take off her clothes.
Dimitri hadn't taken anything off, but he had turned down the bed and sat on the edge of it with his head bowed. He looked up when she came out of the bathroom, and his smile looked sincere even if it was only half the brilliance it had been earlier. She moved to stand between his knees, her fingers brushing through his hair before she cupped his face in her hands and tipped his head back.
She didn't kiss him, not at first. She just looked at him. The bedside lamp had pretty decent light, golden, casting half his face in shadows. She traced the lines at the corners of his eyes, then the shallower ones bracketing his mouth. She touched the scruff of beard growing in on his chin and cheeks. This was a man who'd lived. One fingertip moved over his eyebrows, one at a time. Dimitri closed his eyes under her touch, still smiling. When she drew a finger over his lips, they parted just enough for her to slip the point of her index finger inside. He bit it gently, then sucked, and the sensation sent a delicious shudder all through her.
He opened his eyes. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs to cup her ass, though he didn't pull her closer. She thought he would lie back on the bed, maybe pull her on top of him. Instead, he pressed his cheek against her belly, just below her breasts. She'd noticed before the heat of his skin and felt it now through her tank top. He was a furnace. Her hand stroked the back of his head and found the back of his neck.
They stayed that way for what felt like a very long time, breathing in. breathing out. She wondered if he heard her heart beating or if it was only the pulse in her throat and wrists, the rush of it in her ears that made it seem so loud. Dimitri murmured something she didn't catch and tipped his head back to look up at her. The phone on the bedside table rang just as she kissed him, but Dimitri shook his head and started to pull away. He shifted on the bed, tugging her down next to him. "Let it ring." In the next minute, though, his pocket rang. He , sighed, defeated, and moved to pull out his phone. He looked at the screen and frowned. "Sorry. I should've known she'd just keep calling until I answer."
Rose sat back on the bed, giving him space to answer the call. Awwwwwkward. As Dimitri answered, she gestured, pantomiming that she was going to get out her own phone. She couldn't be sure he understood her charade, but he nodded. "Yeah. Hi." He sounded brusque.
Rose ducked out of the room to get her wallet. No messages from Eddie or his father. She shrugged off her worry, but it didn't go far. She sent another quick text as she walked back toward the bedroom.
"What do you want me to do about it? Well, buy them what they need. You take care of it. You don't need my… no. of course not. Yes, I'll have them next weekend. You're the one who said they needed stuff right now. If it can wait, sure, I'll take them. If not… look," Dimitri said sharply. "I don't see what the problem is."
Rose paused, not wanting to intrude. She typed another message to Adrian, and with reservations, added one to Sydney too. She didn't like going to Adrian's wife for things, but the fact was Sydney, God love her, did keep track of everything much better than Adrian did. Rose remembered how that had been.
"Just take care of it, then! Christ, Tasha. What do you want me to say?" silence. The creak of the bed. Dimitri sighed. Rose gently pushed the door open, and he looked up.
"Hey," she said.
His smile looked tired. "Hi. Sorry about that."
She came in and sat next to him. "It's fine."
"It's my ex," he explained, though she'd figured that part out. "Something with the kids. I don't really know why she can't just deal with it, but she likes to mess with me, make me feel guilty under the guise of keeping me 'in the loop'."
He made air quotes with his finger, a gesture Rose would've found irritating but for the fact he'd used the word guise correctly. She was such a sucker for a good vocabulary, it wasn't even funny. She shrugged and nudged him with her shoulder, teasing. "No problem."
Dimitri brushed some hair off her face, then over her shoulder. When his gaze went to her mouth, she anticipated the kiss and leaned in… just as his phone rang again. He muttered something uncomplimentary in another language, she assumed Russian.
"I'm not answering it."
She laughed and kissed him, spoke against his mouth. "You probably should. Or turn it off."
"Yeah…" they melted into the kiss. His hands slid up her body to cup her breasts, and he thumbed her nipples. His phone beeped with a voice mail. A moment later, a text. Dimitri groaned and buried his face against the side of her neck while Rose laughed and patted his hair.
"Maybe you should call her back," she offered, taking a peek at the phone. The text was simple to read: ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
He sighed, looked at the text and frowned. He didn't listen to the voice mail, just tapped in a number. "What?"
Ouch. Rose thought as she settled back on the bed, watching Dimitri as he got up from the bed to pace the room. He spoke with his hands when he got upset, his face expressive. Studying his was a guilty pleasure, since he looked very, very fine when he was angry. She was glad she wasn't on the other end of the phone.
"Why do we have to discuss this now? Let me talk to them." He frowned and tossed up his hand. "Of course they're in bed, why would you call me when they're awake so I could actually talk to them? I did call them. I left a message. Christ, Tasha, if you don't answer the house phone, I figure it's because you're busy or, you know, out and about doing something that you should be paying attention to, not answering your damn mobile phone. Like driving, maybe you should pay attention instead of answering the phone, right?"
He paused, cutting a sort of guilty-looking glance toward Rose. "No, I'm at home. Yes, I'm alone."
Rose considered feeling offended, but knew she'd have said the same thing if the situation were reversed. She carefully kept her eyes on her own phone. Dimitri tossed his phone in the dresser draw and climbed up on the bed.
'Sorry," he said.
She shook her head. "Really. It's okay."
He leaned in to kiss her.
Her phone chimed.
"Cock-blocked by technology," Rose said.
Both of them burst into laughter. It was cathartic, a release of sorts, kind of like orgasm in the way it built and built, then crashed. The bed shook with it, they gasped with it, it stole their breath the way good sex would have. It felt as intimate as sex. It felt real.
"You'd better check it."
She did. It was from Sydney, of course, telling Rose not to worry. Adrian would pick Eddie up and bring him to their place. She'd added a *Hugs* at the end of the message. Sydney added it to almost every message, totally irrelevant and useless and also annoying. It was probably her sig line.
"Important?" Dimitri asked.
Rose tossed her phone into her bag and put it on the floor. "No."
Then they were kissing again, his hands were now moving over her. He pulled her tank top over her head and pushed her into the bed at the same time. He covered her with his body, his mouth moving on hers, down her jaw and throat and finally to her breasts. Rose moaned when he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. Then the other.
He moved off her just long enough to pull his shirt off too, revealing a chest and belly as nicely muscled as his arms. "What?" he'd stopped kissing her, noticing her looking.
"Just enjoying the view." She arched upward to take his mouth again, her hands moving over his skin. She tugged at the button on his jeans and slid her hand inside, remembering how it had felt when he'd done the same to her in the hall. Her fingers encountered cotton and hot hard flesh. His groan, muffled inside her mouth, sent a shiver through her. It seemed as if they'd been at this for hours and now neither one wanted to risk another interruption. Clothes came off. The golden lamplight hid a lot of flaws, but it wouldn't totally hide the scars.
And it didn't. Dimitri traced the longest one, the ugliest one, from side to side across her belly but said nothing about it. He went back to kissing her as his hand moved between her legs. His cock was hard against her thigh, and when she stroked it, his hips pushed forward in that involuntary way most men seemed to have. She loved that helpless thrust, as though they couldn't stop themselves from fucking into her fist. "Shit," he said under his breath, and sat up to look down at her. "I don't have anything."
Rose had been riding a lovely wave of arousal, but now she blinked. At least he was assuming she'd want him to use something. "Um… let me check my bag."
She rolled to hook it with her finger and pull it toward her. She found the small plastic zipper case she used to store feminine supplies, not sure if she'd actually stuck a condom or two in there or if she was remembering wrong. This wasn't the bag she usually took on her turnarounds.
Dimitri looked sheepish when he took it from her. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting this."
She thought the way he tossed back his drinks and the way he'd looked her over, up and down. He'd hit on her pretty hard in the bar. He'd invited her back to his apartment. She had a hard time believing he had no idea this was where things were going to go. Then again, he'd been so hesitant to make a move when they finally got here. And she hadn't intended to go home with anyone on this trip either. Strange shit happened all the time when sex got involved, and she of all people should know that.
"Don't worry about it." On her back but propped on her elbows, she let her toes slide up his thigh to his belly. "We're good." He fumbled with the condom wrapper, ducking his head in a way she found incredibly endearing. When it looked as though he might falter putting it on, though, she pushed up onto her knees to take it from him. "Let me."
She sheathed him and looked up to find him watching her with an expression she couldn't read. His cock, nicely thick and full in her hand, bobbed. She kissed his mouth and nipped at his chin. Nuzzled his ear. Rose pushed him gently until he lay back, and she straddled him with his cock in her hand. Only his fingers moved, squeezing her hips gently. She loved the look in their eyes when the put them inside her for the first time. Dimitri's eyes fluttered closed as his back arched a bit. He bit his bottom lip too, but while all those things were enough to melt her butter, none were what made her gasp aloud. She did that when he put his arms over his head, one hand gripping the other wrist. Every. Button. Pushed.
She settled onto his cock until he filled her, all the way. When she leaned forward, she could kiss him and rub her clit against his muscled belly with every rocking thrust. She gripped his shoulders, letting her nails dig in the tiniest amount. He thrust a little harder at that, his teeth denting his lips, eyes closed, brow furrowed. But not in pain. No, not that.
She moved on him, slow and then a little faster. She'd been with men who tried to control everything about this. The pace, the rhythm, the depth of the thrusts. That could be fun, though usually it was much harder for her to cum that way she ended up giving up and just enjoying the fucking for what it was, finding her own pleasure later with her hand and her memories. But this… oh, this was so much sweeter. So much sexier. She rolled her hips, moving on his cock, her cunt slick and hot and her clit tight and aching with lust. Every time she rubbed herself against his belly, the pleasure spiked until she shuddered with it.
Mouth open, eyes closed, fingers digging deep into his skin, so hard it had to hurt him but he didn't tell her to stop. Her hair fell in her face, sticking to her skin with the sweat that came from really great fucking. Everything became pleasure; nothing else mattered. All she wanted to do was move with it. All she could do was let it overtake her. She was kissing him when she came. Dimitri breathed in her cry. His hands went around her, unexpected but welcome. His fingers pressed a line of demand down her spine until he settled again on her hips to move her a little faster. A little harder. He fucked into her so hard it hurt, but it was a small pain and overshadowed by the pleasure. She moved a hand from his shoulder and pressed it flat over his racing, pounding heart. He came with a shudder and a low shout.
With a low sigh of satisfaction, Rose leaned to press her face against the side of his neck for a moment while she timed the slowing pulse of both their hearts. He softened slowly inside her, which was nice because he didn't slip out right away. She got to spend a few precious seconds snuggled up against him before she reached between them to keep the condom in place as she rolled onto her back.
Rose yawned with the back of her hand against her mouth. She was sleepy now, though it couldn't be much past ten or eleven. She wasn't looking forward to heading back out into the icy weather and finding a hotel room. Dimitri went into the bathroom. The toilet flushed. He got back into bed and switched off the light, which was enough to make her at least shift in the covers even though she hadn't quite managed to rouse herself enough to move. She hadn't adjusted to the darkness yet, so blinked rapidly to focus on him. "I should get going."
He was silent for a heartbeat. "Oh. If you want to?"
There'd been many awkward moments in her life, but the men she picked up in her turnarounds generally knew what was what. But this was not a usual turnaround. "Sorry," Dimitri said before she could say anything. "It's just….. I haven't, um… well, I don't usually do this. I haven't done this, I mean."
He paused, as if he was waiting for her to say the same thing, but she couldn't very well tell him that, could she? Even if he didn't know it was a lie, she would, and just because her turnarounds weren't something she liked to brag about, it didn't mean she was ashamed. "It's okay. You don't have to explain."
The bed dipped as he shifted his weight. "No, I do. I just wanted you to know that this isn't something I do all the time or anything."
"I'm not judging you, if that's what you're worried about." Rose pressed her head into the pillow and let her hands slide down her body to rest on her stomach. She could feel her hip bones, her belly concave between them, but the skin not smooth. The scale and the size of her jeans might show her to be 'skinny' but she'd never have a flat, unblemished stomach again.
His low chuckle sounded a little embarrassed, and it was still charming. "I've been divorced for just over a year. I haven't been with anyone since then."
"I could take that one of two ways." Rose kept her voice light. "Either you just couldn't stand it anymore and you took the first thing that came along-"
He snorted laughter. "God. No"
"Or," she added. "I should feel special."
"I'd say defiantly special."
She went a little tingly at the answer, even as she told herself it was all just talk. He could even be lying, though… she didn't think so. Or she didn't want to think so, at any rate. "So, why me?" the only light in the room came from his alarm clock, so she couldn't see his face very well. That was fine. It was easier to ask things like this in the dark. She wasn't even sure where the question had come from, or why she cared.
"It was the way you talked to that asshole giving the gate agent a hard time."
Rose was more awake now, but that statement seemed garbled and nonsensical, the kind you'd hear in a dream. It meant he'd been aware of her before she went into the bar. It meant that maybe he'd been watching her, which made even less sense if, as he was saying, he wasn't the sort to pick up women and take them home.
"People treat airline staff like crap all the time," Dimitri said. "Guys like him get away with it because they can. I liked what you said to him. She couldn't say it, but you did. And you were right."
Rose cleared her throat a little, thinking of what she'd told the irate man and why his situation had resonated with her so strongly. "I should've had more sympathy for him."
"No, you were right."
She thought of the man's fury, and his explanation, and how hearing it had only made her all the more angry herself. "He shouldn't have used his grief as a reason to be a prick."
Dimitri didn't answer, not at first, though in the silence she could hear him thinking how to respond.
She kept on, the words slipping out of her, one after another, aided by the dark. "Even in the middle of dealing with the worst thing that has ever happened to you, even when you think there is no possible way you can get through another minute, not another second, even if you're dealing with the most incompetent of idiots… well." She cleared her throat, memories rushing to the surface on a wave of emotions. "Even when you're terrified that you can't take one more step or deal with one more thing, there's never an excuse for behaving like that. Because when you do, you make all of those fears come ture."
His hands pulled her closer, till he was spooning her. His mouth found her shoulder, his breath her ear. He put his hand flat on her belly and held her, just held her without speaking for a few minutes. He'd ask her now. About the scars. She knew he would.
What surprised her was that she answered. "We were coming home from a Christmas party. The weather had turned bad. It was an accident," Rose told him. "Just a stupid accident. Icy roads, someone going too fast. I woke up in hospital with a broken collarbone and internal injuries. My husband and younger son were fine. They both walked away. My older son…"
"You lost him?" Dimitri asked quietly when she didn't continue.
"Yes," Rose said. "But not for another half a year."
