Naomi & Bradley, It All Comes Down… (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 1) (11 page)

BRADLEY

Monday, February 14th

Manny’s gone to Curaçao so I'm sprawled out on his king size bed.  I haven't been this comfortable in weeks and I'm wide awake.  I feel like Sylvester the cat after he's been conked on the head.  Three ladies circle my head:  Naomi, Luba, Natalia.  Round and round till I'm dizzy and nauseous.  I'm on a ride called ‘The Merry-Go-around Of Mistakes’ and I need to get off.  But how? 

My heart’s racing, I'm sweating, and I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest. 
Maybe
I'm
having
a
heart
attack,
I think,
that would get me out of this mess.
  I imagine them all around my grave:  Naomi maybe crying, maybe not.  Still pissed at me?  Nah.  You can't be mad at the dead guy.  Luba would be chain smoking, probably tossing the butts into my grave, scanning the crowd for someone to take her out clubbing afterward.  Natalia?  She's the wild card.  I really don't remember how we ended up in bed in the first place.  I'm not even sure we
had
sex.  Viktor would definitely be sad.  We've been friends for a long time.  Although if he found out about Natalia and me…who knows?  I doubt she'll say anything to him; it’s kind of an awkward conversation to have with your brother.

As I lay there on Manny's pillow-topped mattress, sun rising through his east-facing windows, my heart slows and I stop sweating.  The merry go round pauses and one face remains in my vision:  Naomi.  I think of her long silky blonde hair and her luscious body that fit against mine like a puzzle piece and I realize that she was the solution to my puzzle.  I spent my whole life feeling like the only love I'd ever have was one I paid for and here was this amazing woman asking nothing from me.  Why did I have to keep pushing marriage?  I should have just been with her and let things happen naturally. 
Too late now, Dobrov,
I think and my heart sinks deep.  Then I hear the ping of a text.  Could it be?  I leap up and race for my phone.  Damn.  Luba.

Darling, I know you won't mind.  Invited Natalia to come with tonight.  Is HUGE party.  Could be more fun with three, no? ;)

Oh no, not Natalia AND the winky face.  The heart attack option is looking more and more inviting.  My screen lights up a few more times with suggestive emojis.  If I don't answer she'll be at it all day.  I tap the screen:
Sure
.  There.  No commitment, no emotion.  This is fixable.  I'll hang with the girls tonight--maybe Viktor will show up with his new mystery girl, KuKu.  Frankly, she sounds like a nut job.  Some kind of hippie girl-woman.  Oh hell, we’ll drink our faces off and I'll just slip out when the girls aren't looking. 

No more models or best friend’s sisters.  It's Naomi or no one.  Starting tomorrow, I have one mission:  make Naomi mine.

NAOMI

Monday, February 14th

Viktor the clotheshorse.  The master of dressing a woman with a gifted eye for what works.  He should be a stylist for the stars.  I love everything he’s done to me. 

Rather enjoyable being dressed by a man.  The lingering fingers, the accidental brushing against my breasts, the warm hand down my back, the hot breath against my neck as he hooks the many necklaces. It’s a dance, a seduction, a taste of foreplay and he has me panting.  He senses my arousal and he grins.

“Soon KuKu, soon.”

He spins me around and I stand back and look in the mirror.  If the old Naomi was too bland, too pale, then this Naomi is her polar opposite.  I’m radiant.  Red high heels, all strappy and sexy, bare legs up to a revealing chiffon, pleated dress, shorter by a good ten inches in the front, made to flow above my knees like a temptation.  A voluminous and flowing material, but thin enough to display my figure underneath, and bright red, the color of life and love.  It’s held up by two spaghetti straps, and offers a low round neck that flashes glimpses of the top of my breasts.

Viktor decorates my neck, arms, and fingers with heavy jewelry, twists my long, black hair loose around my shoulders, and sprays me with some sexual perfume.  No detail is missed.

How will I ever get dressed again without Viktor beside me?

“I love it Viktor, everything.  You are a master.”

“You are the perfect woman to wear such a garment.  You are divine KuKu.  All of my friends will burn with jealousy.  When I tell them tonight is the night that I will have you, they will all envy me.”

I frown.  Was that why he wants me, dresses me this way, to flaunt me in front of his Russian friends?  Is he using me as much as I am using him?

It hurts.

He notices my change of mood.  Viktor notices everything.

“Naomi,” he says, surprising me by using my real name.

I look up at him and he sighs.  He runs his finger under my chin and lifts my face up to his.

“I know what you are thinking.  That came out wrong.  I do this because I want to please you.  I care about you sweetheart, very much.  Believe me KuKu, you are the one for me.  I want you for tonight, tomorrow, and all the other nights to come.  My blood runs hot for you, I cannot think about a future without you Naomi.”

He looks sincere.  So did Bradley just days before dumping me.

I want to believe Viktor.

He makes me happy.

I want to be happy again.

“But your job in a few months, you’ll be leaving.”

“I’ll get out of it, this acting,” he spits, “I don’t need it.  My family owns a large distillery, many liquor companies; I have money to burn KuKu.  I only work because I am bored and to make friends.  I have you now.  I don’t need anything else.”

I smile at him.  I look into his beautiful blue eyes, so rich like the Baltic Sea.  I reach up and brush a piece of dark hair off his forehead, and grin.

“I really like you too Viktor.  Please don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t.  And you.  Promise you won’t go back to that asshat you were with, or date your boss.  Give yourself to me in every way Naomi.”

What had I promised myself?  Next time I’ll be smarter, choose more wisely, not let my heart rule my head.  I want a companion, a friend, a man to enjoy life with, and my heart be damned.

“Yes.”

“Did you say yes?”

“I did.  Why, you want to take it back?”

“Hell no.”

He doesn’t get down on one knee, perhaps too American.  He stands tall and strong in front of me, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large diamond ring.

“Then, be my bride Naomi, wear my grandmother’s ring.”

“Bride?” I hiss, confused.  I thought he was talking about being lovers.

Before I can think, he slides the substantial diamond on my finger and pulls me tightly against him.

Breathing into my hair Viktor whispers, “You are mine now KuKu; no man must ever touch you again, no one but me.”

BRADLEY

Monday, February 14th

Manny's about half my height so borrowing from his extensive closet isn't an option.  Once again I regret leaving Naomi's without my bags.  Knowing her, she probably handed them to the first homeless guy she could find.  I borrowed a couple of things from Viktor last week.  We are exactly the same size and build so that's lucky.  Not Manny lucky, but still.  I feel kind of weird doing it, but I'm still pretty broke, so I sort through the closet of the dude who actually owns this place.  I find a decent white shirt, try it on.  It fits, so I continue my safari.  Past the khaki vests with a hundred pockets, past the camo pants with a hundred more pockets, I strike gold:  an Armani tux.  It still has the tags on it and I wonder if he bought it anticipating some big award or honor that never came. 

It fits like it was made for me so I cut the tags and get dressed.  A little product in the hair, a little moisturizer in the beard, and I'm good to go.  Back in Manny's room I spy a small bottle of some Italian cologne.  It smells like oranges and leather. 
Can't hurt,
I think, and pat a little on the back of my neck.  I won't be able to impress Naomi tonight, but at least I won't stink up the dance floor.  As her name crosses my mind, I smile. 
I will get her back.
  I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

I ring the outside bell of the girls’ condo.  Luba answers the door, naked, hands me her cigarette, walks back into her room.  Piles of dresses and shoes litter the floor.  Natalia materializes from the bathroom in a white towel, slick black hair the exact color of Viktor's, slithering across her shoulders.  I shudder.  If I had only known.  I feel like I slept (or whatever we did) with my own sister.  She beams at me.

“Hi you!”  She practically prances over to me, and I'm reminded of those little dancing ponies they used to have at Russian Folk festivals.  “I'm REALLY excited to go to Anastasia.  I've only heard about.”  She throws her arms around my neck.

What if she's not even legal?
  I wonder, frozen where I stand, unable to return the hug.

She drops her arms, steps back.  “What's wrong with you?” She demands, hands on hips now.  “It's like hugging a tree.” 

Luba pops her head out.  “Who is hugging Bradchka’s tree?  No touching his branches without me.”  She smiles like a wolf eyeing up some tasty rabbit, licks her lips, then pops back into her cave.  From inside she calls out.  “Tali, you naughty girl.  Remember we wait till
after
big party to climb our Bradchka tree, ha ha.”

Natalia blushes crimson, looks down, whispers, “I n-never agreed to anything like, th-that.”  I realize she's crying.  Poor kid.  I am the worst person on earth.  I put an arm around her in what I hope will feel more brotherly.  But.  Then, she says, “I mean, we haven't even had sex just you and me yet.”  Sunshine breaks through clouds.  Angel choirs sing.  Russia wins the World Cup.  I didn't dirty up my best friend’s sister and I never will.  It's just a crush; she'll get over it.  I give her one last little squeeze and head to the kitchen to pour myself a vodka.  It's time to celebrate.

The Uber ride out to Brighton is exhausting.  On one side of me, Natalia keeps burrowing into my arm and looking at me with moony eyes.  On the other side, Luba the gorgeous red headed octopus can't keep her tentacles to herself.  I need to occupy them, so I ask the driver if we can smoke.  Four open windows and the freezing February air pouring in but at least I get a rest from swatting her hands from my crotch.

We get dropped off half a block away because the streets are clogged with limos, Escalades, BMW’s, and a few custom sports cars that probably cost more than the club makes in a year.  Natalia gets out first.  She looks amazing, I have to admit.  She's got on a flowy, pleated red dress in a thin material that shows off her curves.  It's higher in the front and strappy at the top.  I try to avoid looking too long because her breasts are practically spilling over.  I get out of the car, smooth down my tux and realize Luba's waiting, hand stretched out, for me to help her up.  One black velvet four-inch heel has made its way out to the street.  I extract the rest of her:  gold romper, shortest shorts possible without being a bikini bottom, bustier on top.  Her red hair swings and shimmers like a mermaid just stepping from the ocean we face. 

The sea breeze smacks us all into action and we head off to the warmth of the club, one girl on either of my arms.  We cut through the mob of well-dressed smokers crowding beneath the heat lamps and enter Anastasia under a giant red heart flanked by two cupids, bows aimed straight at us.

NAOMI

Monday, February 14th

“You are mine now KuKu; no man must ever touch you again, no one but me.”

Viktor’s husky voice is threading a promise and a warning into every fiber of my brain.  He’s beaming with happiness, his gloved hand busy scaling the inside wall of my thigh, the windows fogging up in the cab from our heavy breathing.

What am I doing?

Did I just promise to marry this dude I know practically nothing about?

Isn’t that what bohemian carefree women do?  Live life to the fullest, grab it by the horns, and enjoy the ride?

“Viktor,” I hiss, “not in the cab.”

He laughs that deep erotic growl and just grins.  He slowly pulls his leather glove off his hand, in a slow, sexy motion.  I see our future, married to an uncontrollable, giant Russian man-child.  A heavy drinker, a smoker, probably a fantastic lover.  Hell.

Might as well stay on the bull, nothing else on my lonely horizon but bossy Darren Broderick.

Viktor reaches up and shifts my face towards him.

“KuKu you happy?”

“Yes.”  I offer it like appeasement spread with a thick knifeful of hope.

“Me too.  I adore you baby, relax let me make you happy.”

Sure, why not?  God knows I could use some happiness.

He pulls a black leather flask from his overcoat pocket and offers it to me.  I drink a large swallow and try not to cough.  What the hell was in that?

We drink, I slide Viktor’s fingers down to my knees several more times before I give up and let him do whatever he wants.  It feels damn nice.

When we reach Anastasia, my eyes are glazed with lust, I’m half trashed, and feeling no pain.

“You’re good for me Viktor,” I whimper against his ear.

“You’re mine KuKu; we will be the hottest couple here.  Enjoy this celebration with me.  You are a beautiful woman.  All men will want you, but only I have you, right KuKu?”

“Yes,” I respond like a mindless robot high on crack.

I trip getting out of the car, but Viktor is there to support me with his strong arms.  We stagger into the Anastasia.  I see flashes of moving lights, a massively long onyx bar.  Were scantily clad women dancing on top of it?  Wow!  The music is incredibly loud.  Viktor steers me to a large sofa area and we drop down together laughing like children.  I never remember being this high and carefree.  I wonder if Viktor’s slipped me some pill, no, he drank from the flask too.  It must be because I’ve not eaten since breakfast.

The air smells of sweat, tobacco, perfume, and men’s too strong cologne.  I press my nose into Viktor’s neck, inhaling his wonderful rich scent.

“You always smell so nice,” I shout in his ear.

His lips move over mine, strong, determined, almost ruthless.  I shift sideways and brush against his chest.  He’s warm; his hands wrap around me and pull me closer.

He’s running his fingers over the top of my breasts, breathing hard.  He drags me half onto his lap and I’m aware of his erection pressing into my side.  I hope we don’t end up having sex in some alleyway, or in the men’s John.  Or right here in public.  Viktor seems to have a one-track mind and right now, his train of thought is racing to my wheelhouse.

Part of me doesn’t care.  My loss of Bradley, my empty tomorrows, what do I care what comes after this?  Only this moment Naomi, live only now.

Viktor laughs, his crazy ass deep growl, like some wild bear, and shifts me so I’m welded to his crotch, even closer.  I wonder how I can breathe.

I glance down, my legs are exposed, long and shapely hot, bare, and I am giving every man nearby, a sexy shot of my top thighs.  It feels good to be attractive and desired.  Liberating and free.  I swallow down some vodka drink Viktor orders for me and look down at myself.

My midnight black hair is waist long and peppered with tiny braids twisted with beads.  My fingers and arms are covered in bangles and bracelets, shiny stones, and tight silver bands. 

My man Viktor approves of the view.  He is looking at me as if he’s crazy mad in love with me.  There is something about the way he lays his arm over my shoulder, his large hand resting on my knee, all male signs saying ‘hands off bastards, I’m not playing with this one.’

It’s flattering and slightly suffocating at the same time.  I try to pull back from Viktor’s chest but he won’t let go.  He twists his head and kisses my neck in long, heated movements until I pinch him.  Viktor reluctantly loosens his arms.  I laugh and kiss him on both cheeks.

“We have all night.”  I speak into his ear, and he snorts.

“I can’t wait that long.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No, I promised my friends we would be here.  Everyone wants to meet you.”

“You have many friends here?”

“Yes, mobs.  Work, past women, but don’t be jealous KuKu, they mean nothing to me.  Since you, I care about no one else.  Also, Natalia, my sister called and said she would be here.”

“Should we look for them?”

“Not yet, more necking, I still want you right now.  Let me order a place more private and a bottle of Vodka.  Be right back.”