Parker gives a final thrust, and I stare at the ceiling, but my head is already at the auditorium, running through my positions, wondering if Blane will miss his mark again and almost drop me in midair. He better get his head in the game, because I haven’t worked my entire life to play the principal role of the Swan Queen in the New York City Ballet’sSwan Lake, only to have some halfwit destroy my career by dropping me. Dimitri would never drop me, but my best friend isn’t the one playing Prince Siegfried and lifting me at the end of my thirty-two consecutive fouetté turns in Act III.He should be though. He’s clearly the better choice, and far too talented to be dancing the character role of Von Rothbart when I’m stuck struggling with a mediocre prince.
“Jesus, could you at least pretend to still be in the bed with me?” Parker pants in my ear.
“I’m sorry, it’s just a really big day, you know?”
“Well at least she’s experiencing something big today,” a voice deadpans with a thick, gorgeous Russian accent.
“D!” I shift beneath Parker, grab the pillow and throw it at my best friend, who leans casually against the doorjamb to my bedroom.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Parker sets his jaw and closes his eyes.
“Dimitri, actually, but it’s nice to see you too, sugar daddy.”
Parker’s face turns puce. He’s only five years older than me, but any mention of him being my sugar daddy and he is not a happy man. Unfortunately for him, Dimitri mentions it.A lot.
Parker is a handsome, successful, hot-headed, investment banker. He’s patient when it comes to my career. He may question my taste in friends, but he tolerates D for me. D, the ballet, the long hours, the regimented diet, my overbearing father, and most importantly he endures the visits from my strange and perhaps sometimes too familiar best friend with the grace of a seasoned politician.
Parker pulls out, and I gasp, because even though I didn’t come while he was inside me, I’m still far too sensitive from my earlier orgasm. He rolls off the bed and covers himself protectively with his hands, making his way to the bathroom. “You need to take back his fucking key. It’s not normal, this incestuous friendship you two have.”
“If I didn’t give him a key, he’d jimmy the locks.”
“It’s true I would,” D says, lifting his eco-friendly coffee cup as if in a toast. He tilts his head to the side as he watches my fiancé’s ass disappear into the bathroom before Parker slams the door.
I shake my head and D smiles, leaping onto the bed as he holds his coffee aloft. I barely have time to pull the sheet up and move to avoid being squished. “How are you feeling,zvyozdochka?”
“Like you just deprived me of another orgasm.” I give his arm a playful slap. “You have to stop coming over unannounced.”
“Oh please, you were so done.” He hands me the coffee, and I take a huge gulp. It’s not warm enough to scald my tongue, thank god, but it is sweet.Too sweet. It’s a wonder D can dance at all with the rubbish he puts in his body. Sugar, liquor, men who’ve been God knows where doing God knows what ... “I could see it in your eyes, you were bored as hell.”
“I was not bored; I don’t get bored. I was just—”
“Baby, you were so bored your children would come out looking likematryoshka. That man is all wood, and not the good kind. Besides, doesn’t hetero sex only last like a minute anyway?” He winks, and I resist the urge to throw his damn coffee cup in his face. “But enough about your shitty sex life with Mr. Moneybags. Are you freaking out yet?”
“A little.” I pass him the cup and wring my hands together in the sheet. D gives me a look that says he doesn’t buy my nonchalance. I sigh and snuggle into his broad chest. “How many times do you think a human can throw up before they pass out?”
“You’ve got this,zvyozdochka.You’ve lived your whole life for this role, and you’re going to shine so fucking bright you’ll be a supernova. Now get the hell up; we’ve got class.”
I give him a nervous smile.
D’s face twists in revulsion. “No, really. I think I’m on the wet patch.”
“Eww, D!” I throw Parker’s pillow at him and scramble from the bed before he can retaliate.
“You made it.” He rolls his eyes. He’s a very pretty Russian. Tall, with the long, lithe muscles of a ballet dancer, green eyes, blond hair, a jaw so chiseled you could carve stone with it, and a face that makes both men and women weak in the knees. If he weren’t so interested in other men’s appendages, Dimitri would be the perfect man for me. I’m already convinced we share twin souls. “Fucking heteros.”
“Well, if you didn’t barge in here and interrupt my wild sex session with my gorgeous fiancé, you wouldn’t end up hot and bothered by his ass and lying in a wet patch you have no business lying in.” I cross the room, sans sheet, and head for the bathroom door, blowing him a kiss.
“Oh,zvyozdochka.We seriously need to redefine your definition of wild sex sessions. If both the sheets and your hot, tight little body aren’t covered in cum, you’re doing it wrong.”