Dmitry's Closet by Nelson, S. (read people like a book .txt) 📕

want to come inside and sit down. I’m drunk. This hallway is not…”

“Not what?” She pushed the door up a little more.

“Accommodating.” He wiped his tired eyes.

“No,” Royal said, watching him as he walked to the stairwell and slid down the opposite wall to sit on the floor.

“Fine. I’ll sit out here and sleep at your doorstep like dog,” he yawned.

“Fine with me,” Royal said, as she closed the door and locked it, but from her peep hole, she could see that Dmitry did not move.

She snickered. He was so pitiful and so dramatic. He deserved an Oscar for his performance. She started to leave him there until morningbut decided to slip on a pair of jeans and t-shirt.

When she was fully dressed, she opened the door to find him snoring lightly.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I thought that you said that you wanted to go out?” She locked her door behind her.

“Yeah,” he wiped his watering eyes. “I’m up…ready.”

Getting up off the ground, he stretched his long body and moved out the way so that she could get to the stairs. He followed her down to the back door, where she found Anatoly standing out in the rain with a large black umbrella waiting for them.

“You’ve been waiting here the whole time?” she asked horrified.

Anatoly did not speak to her or blink. He simply raised the umbrella to cover her body from the rain and escorted the two of them to Dmitry’s limousine.

It really did not bother Royal that Anatolywould not answer her. He rarely spoke. At first, she thought him to be a mute, until once she heard him speaking in Russian on his cell phone. After that, she decided that he simply didn’t speak English.

Once they were inside the limo, Royal sat across from Dmitry, curiously looking at his outfit. He was in a tailored black-tuxedo. She was in jeans. Where could they go as mismatched as they were?

“So, tell me what happened,” she demanded, reaching over into the distinctively expensive French silver-plated bronze & brass champagne bucket to open the unopened bottle of Louis Roederer Champagne Cristal Brut Rose. She looked down at the bottle impressed. This was at least at $500 bottle, yet he kept it stocked like it was Red Bull.

“Night ended early,” Dmitry said, smiling at her. His dimples were not deep but long and showed only when he smiled. His face was covered in a fine five o’clock shadow of dirty blonde stubble, but it only caused him to look more rugged and sexy.

“Did you not tell her who you were? And how happy she should be to be with you?” Royal mocked him.

“She knows who I am; I sent her away,” he said slowly, over articulating his words. “I was bored, and I wanted to be with you.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Royal said, shaking her head.

“It’s true,” he rested his arm on the armrest and rubbed his stubbly beard.

“I bet,” she scoffed.

“You think I’m harmless, don’t you?” Dmitry leaned forward soaking wet from the rain. His long legs stretched across the limo like a black spider.

“No.” Royal poured them both a glass of champagne, unmoved by his question. “I’m sure that you’re trouble,” she said, offering him the glass.

“If you only knew,” he said, sitting back after he had taken the crystal flute from her. “Spasiba.” He thanked her in Russian.

“Enough about you, Dmitry. Where are you going to take me?” Her long body sat relaxed in the black leather seat opposite him, mirroring his own entitled demeanor.

“Where do you want to go?” He took a sip of the champagne.

“It’s pouring rain.” She tapped her finger on the door as she thought. “Ummm, how about to the movies?”

“What is with you and movie theatre? Is this the only thing you enjoy?”

“Yeah, it’s thething that I enjoy,” she said, mildly ex-cited. “There’s nothing like a good movie.”

Dmitry gave a curious stare, but Royal could not tell what he was thinking. “Anatoly, take us to my house. I need to get dressed for Royal’s movie,” he said finally.

“Uh uh,” Royal protested. “You can wear what you have on. I’m not going to your house,” she said, shifting in her seat a little, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You don’t really expect me to go to movies soaking wet, do you?”

Royal thought for a minute, tapping her foot as she de-bated. “Fine. I’ll wait out in the car while you go change.”

“Who said that you were invited in? I don’t need help dressing.” Dmitry shot her a stare. “Someone that thinks very highly of themselves in this car tonight.”

“Call it what you want to Dmitry, but I don’t go to strange men houses in the middle of the night so they can get dressed or undressed.”

Dmitry laughed at Royal’s inability to control her com-plete discomfort with the thought of him. He pealed out of his wet tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned the top of his collar. The cold clothes stuck to his body and wet white shirt showed the defined muscles under his many layers of fine dressing along with a plethora of tattoos that Royal would have never guessed were there.

“Я должен иметь секс с вами теперь,” he said raising his eyebrow at Royal.

“What did you say…speak English,” she snapped.

Dmitry smiled. “I should get naked right now, just to see how you react to what grown man looks like.” His eyes twinkled in the darkness.

“That’s not what you said. I tell you what. You will be out of this car, Dmitry, if you take off one more thing,” Royal said, in a matter-of-fact tone, pointing her finger at him.

“You know, Royal. You are very sexually frustrated. I can tell. You’re always scared that someone will steal your precious gift.” He looked in between her legs and licked his lips.

“Ooh. Uh uh. Not an appropriate conversation,” Royal said, closing her legs. “I’m gonna need you to stop worrying about my sex.” She rolled her eyes and tried to repress a broad smile.

Dmitry was funny and arrogant. It was a preposterous