Whatever I'd been expecting at Miroslava's, what I found was nothing like it. After our conversation last night, Meredith, Sonya, Karolina and I had spent the evening online looking up potential dresses for inspiration. Meredith had picked a quite simple design that she thought would suit her. But try as I might, I couldn't find anything that appealed. So in the end, I'd decided I'd throw myself on Miroslava's mercy and talent.
Abe hadn't missed the excited chatter at morning training, and once he divined the reason for our enthusiasm, he'd immediately offered to bankroll the exercise. Meredith politely declined, explaining her family had given her some money to buy herself a gown.
"See Rose? It's a tradition – families paying for their daughter's graduation dress. You let Miroslava know you can have whatever you want. I'm good for it," Abe grinned winsomely.
I sighed and nodded, secretly relieved. I had next to no money – certainly not enough to buy any dress I'd want to be seen in!
After lunch, Meredith and I stayed at home, quickly showering and putting on modest undergarments. Karolina and Sonya had warned us we'd be standing around in our bras and panties, and getting measured in every conceivable region, so we were best off wearing something comfortable. Sonya had also whispered that Miroslava took shit from no one, and at the first sign of feistiness, I'd feel the prick of her dressmaker's pins.
"Are you sure she's worth it?" I asked.
"Wait 'til you see her work," Sonya assured me.
After lunch Yeva led a compliant Meredith and me into a wide, bright workshop above a bakery not far from the gym downtown. The workshop took up the entire top floor. As well as half a dozen large worktables, and several sewing machines and overlockers, the walls were lined with box after box filled with every imaginable bolt of fabric - silks, satins, suedes, and synthetics in every conceivable weight and color.
"Yeva," the woman greeted, nodding respectfully.
"Miroslava. Can I present my granddaughter Rose and her friend Meredith."
"Pleased to meet you," Meredith said politely, stepping forward and nodding when she noticed the woman did not extend her hand.
"Yes, thanks for fitting us in at such short notice," I added.
The woman clucked her tongue.
"Your grandmother booked the two of you in weeks ago," she corrected, picking me as Rose without being told. Were all the old women around here like Yeva?
Dimitri's grandmother chuckled, and not for the first time I wondered whether mind-reading was amongst her repertoire of creepy skills!
"Let's see what we're working with. Clothes off and stand there," Miroslava ordered, pointing to two circular raised plinths side by side in the center of her workshop. Picking up a cigarette burning in a nearby ashtray, she stood to one side, watching Meredith and I appraisingly as we modeled in our underwear.
Ignoring me completely, she went over to Meredith, directing her how to stand while using a fabric tape measure to measure her everywhere, scratching down her observations onto a small notepad. It was chilly in the workshop, but I dared not shiver, so I kept silent, giving Meredith encouraging looks.
"You have an idea, yes?" Miroslava finally asked, gesturing to a printout Meredith had left on one of the worktables beside her folded clothing. Gesturing for her to stay where she was, Miroslava walked over to look at the design.
"It will make you look short, and the color is not good for you," she declared. "In a dress like that, you won't shine."
Looking around her workshop, she spotted a box of fabric in one corner. Walking decidedly toward it, she rummaged around until she found what she was after – a sapphire blue satin.
"This is the color you should wear," she announced, unraveling the fabric and draping it across Meredith's front.
Yeva and I looked at Meredith admiringly. The blue made her skin look impossibly milky and white, emphasizing the feminine blush on her cheeks.
"Satin and low v-neck up the top to draw attention to your buds," she said, gesturing in the vicinity of Meredith's chest. "Georgette overlay on the bottom to distract from your hips and thighs," she continued in her deeply accented voice.
As soon as she said it, I could see Miroslava's point. Now she was in her underwear, I could see Meredith was a bit pear-shaped. Walking to another bin of cloth, the Russian dressmaker selected a matching blue of drapey textile. She got Meredith to hold the second material around her waist, nodding in satisfaction. The shiny fabric at the top drew the eye upward while the piece at the bottom concealed.
"You'll need a glittery belt," Miroslava added, walking over to a cabinet in one corner, pulling out a crystal-beaded patch, holding it up to admire the fabrics and belt together. Nodding in satisfaction, she took the materials from Meredith and placed them on a worktable. Sketching over the top of Meredith's design, she modified the original idea, showing it to Meredith.
"Ready in ten days," she said bluntly, naming a figure in rubles that sounded very reasonable, particularly given it was a custom-made gown.
Meredith nodded, thanking her profusely, stepping down from the dais and quickly redressing herself in her streetwear.
"Now. Roza," the old woman said to herself, circling where I stood waiting in my underwear. "Always the center of attention, no matter what you wear," she muttered in a way that didn't sound entirely complimentary.
"You'll want to wear red, but you'll look better in beaded bronze," she continued to herself. She was right. I did like wearing red.
"You're the expert," I said to her, not sure whether she was addressing me or not. "I'll wear whatever you suggest."
She nodded, looking pleased for the first time since we arrived.
"Many people will have their eyes on you," she predicted. "I don't want you to look like a girl playing dressups in her mother's clothing, or a girl at her first dance. Your dress will be less revealing than you would expect, but you'll look elegant and classy."
Less revealing and classy? Why did I have visions of me in a bejeweled hessian sack?! These thoughts only increased in magnitude when Miroslava triumphantly produced a bolt of delicate sheer fabric that could only be called deep beige.
"Are you sure?" I asked dubiously, eyeing off Meredith's bright blue fabrics enviously. Meredith shot me a reassuring look, but I could tell even she thought my dress was going to look dull.
"Who's the expert here?" Miroslava asked sharply, reminding me of my earlier words.
"Fine," I grumbled, reassuring myself it was just one night, and I could always beg Abe to find me something else if the result was not pleasing.
"It's going to be expensive. That fabric is silk, and the beading will all have to be hand done - the fabric is too delicate to use the machine."
Pulling out her notepad, she sketched up a simple design. With cap sleeves and a boat neck, it was very plain. Boring, in my opinion.
"You emphasize your buds too much," she commented when she saw me eyeing the front of the design in disappointment. "More seemly to show your back," she declared, pointing to the back view of the pattern where she had left an unadorned section to emphasize my shoulder blades and upper back. At least I'd be able to show off some skin!
She named a figure almost five times that she'd quoted Meredith. I was so disappointed in the color and the design, I nearly said thanks but no thanks, however, Yeva interrupted accepting Miroslava's quote, telling her to send her account to Abe.
My fitting now apparently at an end, I quickly put on my clothes and went to stand next to Meredith where she was admiring the makings of her gown with excitement. I felt ripped off and cheated as I stood beside her, but I didn't want to ruin this for Meredith or earn Yeva's displeasure, so I plastered a smile on my face and listened to the old women talk. Although since it was in Russian, I didn't understand any of it.
"I'm sure it will look good," Meredith said supportively as we climbed down the stairs after we'd been dismissed.
"It's beige!" I hissed back.
"I wouldn't call it beige. It was more of a light brown," Meredith replied.
"That's not helping," I groaned.
I all but stomped down the road toward the gym. The original plan had been to go home after our fittings, but I was in a feral mood so had announced I would be going for a workout. I pushed my way into the gym, ignoring Eddie, Dimitri, Kirk, and Pavel as I reached my locker and pulled out my sparring gloves. Not sparing the curious men a look, I went over to one of the punching bags, pouring all my disappointment into it.
It wasn't that I was vain, ok – so maybe a little bit - but didn't every girl dream of being a knockout at her prom? Especially when her man was going to be escorting her?
From the corner of my eye, I could see Dimitri questioning Meredith and his grandmother before warily padding his way across to where I was still giving the punching bag what for.
"Roza? Are you ok? Meredith said you were a little disappointed by your meeting with Miroslava?"
I snorted, embarrassed that Dimitri would think me superficial to stress about a dress, but at the same time bitterly disappointed that I was going to look like a bag lady, while Meredith, and no doubt every girl there, was going to look better than me! I could already imagine girls giving Dimitri sympathetic looks, wondering how a guy like him ended up taking the ugly duckling from St. Vladimir's to the dance.
"I'm sure your dresses will be beautiful. Babushka said women come from Novosibirsk and even Moscow to have gowns made by Miroslava…" he said softly.
I snorted again, this time derisively. I'm sure Meredith's dress would be gorgeous, but since mine was brown, and the design covered me from neck to toes, I'm not sure there was anything that could salvage what I'd apparently agreed to!
"I just wanted to look pretty," I said, looking at Dimitri moisture welling in my eyes.
"Roza you could wear a sack and look gorgeous," he announced, attempting to soothe me and confused why his comments caused me to descend into absolute torrents of tears.
Quickly dismissing training for the day, Dimitri suggested Eddie and Meredith walk Babushka home so he and I could follow behind and talk. It was late afternoon, but there was plenty of sunlight, and we'd easily get home before nightfall.
We walked along the quiet streets of Baia, and after much coaxing he'd managed to discover why I was worried about the dress.
"You see me in sweats all the time. I know I'm going to be a Guardian soon, but I'm a woman, too. I want to look nice sometimes you know?"
A look of understanding crossed my handsome man's face.
"We've got the fights tomorrow, but why don't we have a night out tonight? Baia has a couple of restaurants – we could go out on a date? Dress up a little?"
"You're only asking me because I'm upset!"
"No, I'm not. I've wanted to take you on another date, I promise."
While Olena's cooking was excellent, the idea of going out for the evening like an average couple was enticing.
"They'll probably have a band. We could dance," he tempted.
And like that I was sold.
I stopped in the roadway, looking up at my man.
"I'd love to," I smiled, feeling better already.
"Then let's go home. You get ready, and I'll ring and book us a table."
We wandered home, holding hands contentedly. When we walked inside, Dimitri announced his plans.
"Mama? I thought I would take Roza out on a date tonight. We won't be here for dinner."
Viktoria was sitting at the dining table and looked up. She must have just arrived home from St. Basil's.
"Mama cooks better than anyone in Baia. Why not just stay here?"
"Because I'd like to converse with my girlfriend without three sisters chiming in," Dimitri said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Yeah and suck face, no doubt," Viktoria teased.
"We don't need to go out to do that," Dimitri smirked, grabbing me by the waist and kissing me thoroughly before lowering me back into a swoop. "See?"
Viktoria groaned and covered her eyes, but Olena was smiling. She seemed to enjoy seeing Dimitri and me being so affectionate.
"How did your fitting with Miroslava go?" she asked good-naturedly. I guess she's not spoken with Meredith or Yeva yet!
"Great. Meredith's dress is going to be gorgeous."
Olena's eyes were speculative. She caught the omission in my words.
"You don't like the plans for your dress?"
I shook my head.
"She had a vision for me, but it's kind of boring. And ugly."
"Don't worry just yet," Olena soothed. "She's unconventional, but I've never heard of anyone being unhappy with her work."
"There's a first time for everything," I grumbled with a sigh, slipping upstairs to choose what to wear tonight before I got upset again.
Dimitri slipped into our room not long after.
"You've got fights, tomorrow, so we need an early night. I've made an early booking."
We showered, separately, and by the time I was out of the bathroom getting dressed, Dimitri was already downstairs waiting for me. Carefully dressing in a calf-length knit dress, I spent ten minutes styling my hair into long, loose curls before doing a light smoky eye, mascara, and tinted lip gloss. I slipped on a pair of three-inch heels then teetered down the staircase just before the others were about to sit down for dinner.
"You look good Hathaway," Eddie said admiringly, looking up from the table. It was the first time I'd worn anything pretty in quite a while.
"Thanks, Castile," I replied, before taking in my handsome man. He was wearing dark jeans and a tight sweater over a white button up. He honestly looked good enough to eat!
"Take the car," Olena directed, handing Dimitri her keys. Nodding, we said our farewells and I saw my man position his stakes comfortably before we stepped outside and walked to the vehicle.
We were basically in summer, now, so the nights had lost much of their coldness. It was chilly enough that I appreciated the weight of my knit dress, but I didn't need a coat. Dimitri opened the passenger door of his mother's car, shutting it for me before coming around to the driver's door. Leaning down, he pushed the chair all the way back before elegantly folding himself into the driver's seat. The vehicle wasn't large, but somehow he fit.
"So where are we going?" I asked tentatively. Baia was far from large, and there weren't a lot of restaurants. Pretty much the hotel, and a couple of small places on the main street.
Dimitri named a place along the main drag.
"I'm not sure if it's any good," he said apologetically. "I've never taken a girl out to dinner in Baia before."
"So I'm the first girl you're showing your hometown?" I said with a little smirk.
"You are, so you'd better behave yourself!"
It was late, much later than we'd planned when we finally made it through the front door of the Belikov's house.
We'd taken our time over dinner, talking, holding hands and sneaking kisses between mouthfuls of food as we shared the platter for two. But dinner had finished before we were ready to go home, so we'd walked down to the hotel, enjoying a few beers and then dancing.
The band had been good - playing originals, classics and some modern covers. While I didn't understand the lyrics to their Russian songs, the beat was strong, and Dimitri held me hard up against him as he led me around the small dance floor. It was awkward, at first. We'd never really danced together before, but we soon found our rhythm, and I loved being in my man's arms, hips pressed tightly against his as we danced.
The music was getting slower, and the lights were turned down when the mood between us shifted. What had been relaxed and fun turned sultry, and the words Dimitri was crooning in my ear became more carnal and loaded. I could feel him hardening as we swayed, his cock pressed between us in a silent promise for the rest of the evening.
"It's nearly eleven," Dimitri purred as he nibbled my earlobe, the sound of his breath in my ear the sexiest thing imaginable. "I want to take you home and…"
He didn't say any more, but the push of his thick, hard cock against my abdomen was testament enough to his intentions.
Taking me by the hand, he pulled me from the almost empty bar, and we practically ran to the car half a block away. However, even in our desperation to get home, Dimitri still unlocked my car door first, waiting for me to seat myself before shutting the door and rounding the car, climbing into the driver's seat.
I don't think we got past third gear as Dimitri raced down the deserted streets, the engine's scream echoing our own desperate needs. We pulled up outside his house, Dimitri all but skidding to a halt and engaging the handbrake as I sprang from the car. With my present desire, I didn't have time for Dimitri to be a gentleman and open the car door for me. I wanted him to take me immediately, and certainly not in a gentlemanly way!
Ever on the same page, Dimitri grabbed me and pushed me up against the front door. I hooked a leg around him as our lips met, him lifting the bottom of my dress and grinding himself against my covered core. I whimpered into his mouth in objection as he pulled back slightly, trying to find the keyhole. Eventually finding it he slid the key home, opening the door and simultaneously lifting me, so my legs were wrapped around his waist.
Our lips were still joined as he removed the keys, abandoning them on the hall table and shutting the door. I knew without being told to be quiet. It was late, and the household would all be asleep.
His hands now unencumbered, Dimitri had them on my ass, partially holding me in place, partially pushing me down against his cock. He carried me into the darkened living room, and it was then I think we both appreciated we weren't going to be able to make it up the stairs. I wanted him to take me right then and there, and he was of the same opinion!
He carried me toward the first piece of furniture that caught his eye; his grandmother's armchair. And while it would be the perfect height for what we had in mind, I couldn't in good conscience let him claim me in the chair where his grandmother sat every day, drinking tea and knitting!
"Sofa," I moaned against his lips, distracting him enough to have him spin and carry me over to one of the couches in the room.
Lowering me onto the lower of the two, I pushed the numerous cushions into one corner, using them as a sort of a backrest. Meanwhile, Dimitri sunk to his knees in front of me, popping the button on his fly and pulling down his jeans and boxers, freeing his rock hard dick.
I shimmied in front of him, lifting up the edges of my dress. He found my hips and pulled me forward, so my butt was only just on the edge of the sofa. And without another word, he pushed my panties to one side, revealing my saturated core. I lifted my knees up and further apart, and seconds later, he was balls deep inside me.
Neither of us could help an initial groan as he slid home. We were trying to keep it down, honestly, we were, if for no other fact than I couldn't bear the teasing from Dimitri's sisters if they heard us and came down to catch us in such a compromising position! So I buried my face in the crook of Dimitri's shoulder as he leaned forward, grabbing the back of the sofa with one hand as he pushed into me again and again.
The feeling was heavenly. Pure hedonistic pleasure as we fucked with mutual abandon. I knew he wasn't going to be able to last long. Hell - I'd been rubbing against his hardness all night - and I'd seen him get more and more turned on as the evening wore on. But the effect had been two-fold; I wanted him every bit as much as he wanted me!
The angle of him kneeling on the floor, me with my ass hanging off the seat of the sofa, was good. With every thrust, the head of his cock slammed into that sweet spot on the front wall of my channel, and he lifted me up slightly.
"Dimitri," I whimpered into his neck. I was so so close, and his tiny grunts told me he was, too.
My vocalization seemed to spur him on, and he picked up the pace, brutally pounding into me. His face buried in my hair, he was rubbing the side of his face against mine. The only noises in the room, now, was the soft slap of skin against skin and the slick sounds he made as he slid in and out of my wetness.
And then, finally, when it felt like I had every muscle clenched, I let go. With a tiny whimper, I bit down on my man's shoulder to stop myself screaming with my release. I felt my walls clamp around him; gripping him tight within me as wave after wave of pulses spread up from my core to my breasts and then everywhere else.
Biting him must have shoved him over the edge, too. He groaned and then I felt him flood me from within, the pulses from his cock mirroring mine as he released his wet warmth.
I slumped back against the cushions on the sofa, Dimitri flopped on top of me in exhaustion, his cock still buried within me. We stayed like that for a minute, too spent to move. My man's head nestled beside mine, his ears at my lips, he whispered, "Don't change, Roza – because I'm never going to get bored of that!"
"I hope not," I whispered back. "Because I won't either!"
I frowned as he pulled out of me, gently positioning my panties back into place before tucking his still wet cock back into his boxers and pulling up his jeans. He zipped up his fly and did up the button before helping me to my feet. I wobbled on shaky legs, appreciating I was still wearing the three-inch heels I'd selected to match my dress tonight. Something about being fucked wearing my high heels felt so illicit and very sexy. I stifled a giggle as Dimitri wrapped his arm around my waist to help me across to the stairs.
"Did you have a good night, ангел?"
"The dinner and dancing were great, but there's nothing quite like being home is there?" I murmured cheekily as climbed the stairs to our room and possibly round two.