Sasha
Laughter wasn’tsomething I was used to, other than when being around my daughter. My brother, sister, and cousins would call me brooding when I’d tried to tell them my moods were all about being reflective.
They knew better.
They’d lived with my pain and anger for seven years. They’d suffered through my bouts of depression and rage so intense that at least a couple of times they’d openly feared for my safety.
The last attack of fury had finally kicked some sense into me. Or maybe it was the bitter haze of alcohol. Thank God that had been years ago and before Nina had understood why her daddy was in a bad mood all the time.
Things had brightened in my life over the years, including spending more time with one precious little princess. But laughter was difficult for me.
Yet not around Lainey.
She had a quirkiness with her personality that amused and fascinated me. She was spunky, feisty in a way that surprised me.While handling the business aspect of her life, she’d maintained a thick guard of armor, allowing her manager and attorney to take the lead in contractual conversations. I’d often wondered why she’d allowed them to make decisions that I’d come to realize she didn’t like.
Maybe my surprise was because I’d never seen her with her guard down. We’d chatted. She’d laughed. I’d watched her perform and interact with the crowd in such a personal and intimate way that it was as if she’d been giving every single person in the auditorium a private show. I’d seen how her smile lit up the room, yet I hadn’t truly seen the woman behind the mask.
And I could tell by the way she was sitting cross-legged in jeans on the chair in the cozy bar, telling me about some of her favorite stories from being on the road. She was much more animated, using her hands and quirky expression to colorfully tell her stories. Much like she did with her music.
“You are kidding me?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, my jaw aching from smiling so damn much.
“No. Trust me. I thought his Spiderman outfit was a clever way to get backstage for an autograph, but when he whipped out his dick showing me the permanent marker with ‘will you marry me’ down his shaft, it was a moment I realized I might be in the wrong business.”
I rubbed my jaw, thinking about what kind of man would stoop so… creatively low.
“I know what you’re wondering about,” she cooed and brought the glass of wine to her lips.
“So on top of every other amazing attribute, you also read minds. What am I thinking?” I pulled my glass of vodka into my fingers, offering her a slight toast if she could truly figure out what was on my mind.
“You’re wondering if all those letters Sharpied on his dick were readable. Yes, they were. With at least two inches left over.”
That certainly wasn’t what I was thinking, but her candid statement caused an untypical reaction. I spit out the entire gulp of liquid, barely missing hitting her in the face.
She smacked her hand on the table, hooting first before bursting into laughter. It was without a doubt the cutest sound I’d ever heard.
I lifted my head slowly while she slapped her hand over her mouth, barely containing her laughter. And the little snorts that accompanied the husky sound.
Nope. That certainly hadn’t been what I’d had on my mind.
“You should… see your… face,” she managed. “I don’t think I’ve ever caught you embarrassed. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything but a deathly serious expression.”
I grabbed her cocktail napkin, wiping the few drops from my face before taking a swipe at hers. Even her tiny yelp as she pulled her head away was insufferably cute.
Even more, I was fully aroused, my stiff cock pressed against my trousers. I stared at her, shaking my head. She was even more beautiful out of her costume. She’d washed most of the makeup from her face and in her soft sweater, she looked ten years younger than she did on stage.
And maybe some would say way too young for me.
Holy shit. What was I thinking?
“Is that a true story?” I finally managed to ask after nearly choking to death.
“It is. Who could make up a story like that? Bernie was even floored and it takes a lot to rattle that man.” For a woman who’d just been strangled by a fucking asshole, she was much calmer than I felt inside.
Damien was lucky he hadn’t even lifted a single eyebrow, or the man would be lying in a pool of blood. “I was going to give credit for creativity.”
I was rewarded with another smile. “What do you do for fun, Mr. Dmitriyev?”
Thank God I hadn’t taken another gulp to replace the one I’d lost. “I have a daughter to take care of and she keeps me on a short leash.”
