Dmitry's Closet Nelson, S. (best reads TXT) 📖

Royal suffered from wine and sex, he was a veteran of such affairs and had risen early in the morning to shower and have Anatoly run over to his home and bring back a fresh suit and his daily newspapers.

In the month that both had worked for Dmitry and Royal, neither Renée nor Cory had ever seen Dmitry at the office early in the morning. He sipped on coffee now and talked to Anatoly, who stood listening attentively across the room and sending text messages.

The two unsuspecting employees walked in chatting and laughing, but they stopped as soon as they saw Dmitry. He looked up from his coffee and set his newspaper down. A large smile came across his face, showing his pearly white teeth and long dimples. His cold, ice eyes were bright this morning.

“Hello,” he said, watching the two slip past him.

“Hi. Is Royal alright?” Renée asked, setting down her lunch bag in the adjoining kitchenette.

“She’s fine, just resting upstairs. She’ll be down soon enough,” he said, crossing his hands together. “She said that you two would be here at nine, and here you are. This is good. I’m sure that she’s given you a list of things to do.”

“Yeah, she gave us a few things,” Renee said, looking at Cory.

“Well, I’ll start to set up everything.” Cory excused himself from the small room.

“I’ll help.” Renée followed anxiously.

They both scurried up to the front of the shop and left Dmitry and Anatoly alone, where they resumed their conversation in Russian.

Renée ran her long nails across the remote and turned the television on, while snickering to Cory. “I told you that they were sleeping together,” she said in a half-whisper.

“We still don’t know for sure,” Cory said, giving Royal the benefit of the doubt. “She could be sick.”

“Whatever. You saw the same thing that I did last night. You and I both know that a man doesn’t look at a woman like he looks at her, unless it’s something there.”

“I don’t look at women like that at all, Renée. I’m gay, remember?”

“You know what I mean,” Renée said laughing. “Bless her soul, that big man probably wore her out with his fine ass.”

They both snickered again.

∞♥∞

Royal finally rolled over and realized that not only was Dmitry gone, but the sun was up and the clock said eleven! She jumped up, terribly sore and ran to the bathroom. She was late, really late. She knew that Dmitry had told her that he would take care of everything, but it was her shop, her deal. She never meant to sleep so long. Jumping in the shower, she let the hot water cascade over her body, drench her hair and soothe those aching parts that had been excessively used in the last day.

By 11:30, Royal was locking her front door and headed downstairs. In a comfortable pair of blue linen slacks, a canary yellow Chanel tank top, and blue wedge-healed Bottega Veneta patent leather shoes, she inched downstairs with her hair pulled up in a careful pony tail.

Forced to take short, choppy steps, it was painfully ap-parent to Royal that it wasn’t easy to walk as she was still aching from the pain of being a new lover. It was a sensation unlike any that she had ever known. On one hand she felt like she was glowing and could sing like a bird, but on the other hand, her body felt like it had recently suffered the business end of a Billy club.

As her feet hit the bottom step, she quickly turned and ran out into the store. She could feel Dmitry behind her, watching her, but if she stopped and dared look at him, she might end up back upstairs in his embrace – naked and panting like a dog in heat.

Dmitry smirked as he watched her shimmy out of the back office away from him. He also noted her soreness, and the fact that he should have soaked her in a hot bath, even against her will.

Anatoly uttered something to him in Russian and gave a smug smile.

“Enough of that,” Dmitry replied abruptly.

Hoping not to be terribly missed or noticed, Royal quietly announced herself and quickly made her way around glass and marble countertop, where Renée was checking someone out. A few early morning patrons looked through the new dresses and talked to each other, ignoring her all together. Royal was thankful for that.

“Hey, boss,” Renée said, turning to look at her visibly exhausted friend.

“Hey,” Royal said, moving her bangs out of her face. “Sorry that I’m late. I didn’t get much sleep.” She yawned.

Cory laughed, most unexpectedly. He tried to repress it, but it shot up from his diaphragm. He grabbed his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but they crept across the boutique. Renée smirked and turned away.

“What is so funny?” Royal asked, flinging her head to look at Cory, her long pony tail trailing around her shoulder like a black python.

“Nothing,” Renée said, touching Royal’s neck. “You’ve got a little bruise action going on there.”

Royal touched her neck and looked in the mirror. Damn it! How could she have missed that? It was a huge passion mark that was deep red and completely visible – undeniable in fact.

There was a whistling tune that rang from the back of the store as Dmitry made his way through the boutique. With his newspaper tucked under his arm, he walked casually over to Royal, who stood looking in the mirror at her neck and ignoring him all together. As usual, the patrons stopped shopping and gawked at both his size and his haunting beauty. And as usual, Dmitry kept his eyes on Royal. She was always his target.

“What are you staring at in that mirror,” he asked, look-ing down her shirt.

“Evidence,” she said, showing him the passion mark.

“Dear, I’m afraid those are all over your body. Besides that, how are you?”

“Fine,” she said, forced to smile at the sight of him. Her eyes brightened. “I’m perfect.”

“You should have rested