At the same time he envied her, too. She might not have chosen a high-paying profession, but she was definitely living her dream and doing what made her happy. And Matthew hadn’t been able to truthfully say the same for himself for a long time now.
“Your mom sounded a little upset there,” commiserated Matthew. “I couldn’t understand a word of what she said, of course, but she seemed pretty agitated.”
Sasha shrugged, unconcerned, as she speared a slice of honeydew melon from the bowl of fruit he had brought for her. “My mother spends her life in some form of agitation,” she mused. “I’ve tried more times than I can recall to get her to relax, tried to teach her how to meditate and do some deep breathing.” She shook her head, causing her curls to bounce. “Never going to happen. She’s the most hyperactive person I’ve ever met, and it’s exhausting to be around her for more than an hour or so at a time. One of the reasons I don’t see her all that often.”
“Hmm.” Matthew took a drink of his coffee, a habit he still wasn’t quite willing to give up entirely. “I take that to mean there are other reasons.”
“Yes.” Sasha gazed out the bedroom window, where the sun was shining brightly on what promised to be a cool but clear autumn day. “My mother is also incredibly stubborn, and doesn’t give up easily when she gets an idea in her head. Apparently she’s still determined to convince me to take up dancing again, specifically so that I can join the cast of that TV show she’s on, and the producers can work the angle of having mother and daughter working together. There are only so many ways you can tell a person “never in this lifetime”, and I’m pretty sure I’ve tried them all.”
Matthew seldom had time nowadays to watch TV, and when he did reality shows tended to be at the bottom of the list. But he knew that both Lindsey and Hayley were big fans of Beyond Ballroom, and they had coerced him a few times to watch the show with him. He’d been incredulous to learn that Katya Veselov, one of the most popular professional dancers on the show, was actually Sasha’s mother. The two women didn’t resemble each other all that much, especially considering the amount of makeup and the glitzy costumes Katya wore, and he would have never made the connection if Sasha hadn’t mentioned it.
He frowned. “How long has it been since you danced? Not counting the party before Ian and Tessa’s wedding, that is.”
“I stopped training and competing when I was fifteen,” she replied solemnly. “Which not coincidentally was the exact same time I chose to live with my aunt. I’d had enough of that whole world by then, couldn’t stand the thought of entering one more competition, or spending four hours or more at a time in a dance studio. But even though it’s been more than a dozen years since I quit, my mother has never really let me live my decision down.”
“Did you ever enjoy it? The competition, that is.”
Sasha nodded. “Of course. I mean, I can’t think of too many little girls who wouldn’t love the idea of putting on pretty dresses and makeup and having their hair done, and then going out on a stage to perform. I entered my first ballroom dance competition when I was six years old, and it was pretty much nonstop after that. Everything revolved around training and competing, even dictating the times I was able to see my father and his family in Brazil. By the time I turned twelve, I had already started to resent it, and was trying to figure a way out. My dad knew I was unhappy, and tried to persuade my mother that I needed a break, but even he wasn’t a match for her when she really set her mind to something.”
“I imagine she was pretty pissed off when you finally set your foot down,” commiserated Matthew.
She gave him a wry smile and speared a chunk of pineapple. “My dad was there when I broke the news to her, and afterwards he confessed that he would never have been able to find the nerve to do what I did. To say that she was angry would barely begin to describe the fallout. She refused to speak to me for months afterwards, and it took years before we could have an actual conversation. And while she’s mostly forgiven me, she has definitely not forgotten. Which is why she keeps pushing me to resume my training and join the show - “Aleksandra, you could dance circles around these stupid, lazy cows. The American girls have no passion, no talent. You would be the best dancer on the show.” I hear something like that almost every time we talk.”
He chuckled as she gave what he assumed was a perfect imitation of her mother’s heavily accented voice. “I didn’t know that your real name was Aleksandra.”
Sasha popped a grape in her mouth. “Uh, huh. Sasha is a nickname, though my mother prefers to use my full name. My dad always calls me Sasha, though, says that Aleksandra sounds like a grouchy old Russian lady. It’s just one of the many things the two of them disagree on.”
“Are you ever tempted?” asked Matthew. “I mean, to take your mother up on her offer and go back to dancing? She’s right, you know, that you’d be great on that show.”
She didn’t even attempt to suppress a shudder. “God, no. I mean, I do miss dancing. That was never the issue. It’s the competing, and the performing that I hate. Can you even imagine me with false eyelashes, a spray tan, and an itty bitty costume covered in sequins? That’s what I used to have to do when I competed, even at the age of eleven. My mother would insist that all my curls ruined the image, so I either had to spend over an hour flat ironing my hair or wear a wig.”
He rumpled her curls affectionately. “I love your hair just the way it is,” he assured her. “I think one day I counted six different shades of blonde and light brown. I like that everything about you is natural, Sasha - your hair, your body, you. So don’t ever feel the need to be something you aren’t, or change who you are to please someone else. Because you please me very, very well, and I would never ask you to change.”
She set the bowl of fruit down on the nightstand, then placed her hands on either side of his face before giving him a quick kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I know I’m nothing like most of the people you interact with on a regular basis - your employees and clients and friends - and sometimes I can’t help but think that being with me is just something of a novelty for you.”
“God, no,” he assured her fervently. “Being you with is the only thing that keeps me sane some days. And listening to your story - how you found the courage to stand up to your mother and chose to live your life your way - well, I can’t tell you how proud that makes me feel. Proud and more than a little envious at the same time.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Envious? Of me? Might I remind you that you’re the billionaire CEO while I teach yoga and do massage?”
“Money isn’t everything,” replied Matthew quietly. “And like the saying goes, it sure as hell doesn’t buy happiness. I’m envious because it’s very obvious that you love what you do, Sasha. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who’s as content and at peace with their life as you are. And I would give up almost everything I owned to know that same sort of serenity. If it was up to me, I’d quit my job, sell the company, buy a sailboat, and travel around the world for a couple of years.”
Sasha opened the wrapper of the protein bar he’d brought in for her and took a bite. “So what’s to keep you from doing exactly that?” she asked matter-of-factly. “Oh, I realize it wouldn’t be quite that easy, and that it wouldn’t happen overnight. But you should be able to do exactly what you want with your life, Matthew, provided that you do it responsibly. Like making sure your employees are taken care of, and that your relationship with your children remains stable. Otherwise, if what you’re doing doesn’t make you happy, then you should stop doing it.”
He tumbled her back onto the pillows, causing her to emit a little squeal of surprise. “I’ll tell you what does make me happy,” he told her ardently. “You. You make me happy, Sasha. Being with you this last month has made me happier than I’ve felt in a very long time.”
“Matthew, I…”
Whatever she might have been about to say next was cut off by the hungry, demanding pressure
of his lips on hers, his tongue taking possession of her mouth. He was fully aroused within seconds, as he usually was when she was close by, and the feel of her small, perfect breasts pressing against his bare chest only increased his need for her. Roughly, he palmed one firm mound, his fingers teasing the nipple until she was groaning beneath his kiss. He slid further down her body until his mouth was at the same level as her breasts, and he could run his tongue over her taut, dark red nipples. At the same time one of his hands delved between her thighs, where she was already wet and squirming impatiently for his touch.
“Do we - do we have enough time for this?” he murmured in concern, even as he thrust two fingers inside her tight pussy, his thumb whisking over her clit.
Sasha gasped, her pelvis arching up from the mattress as she simultaneously reached for his cock. “We’ll always have enough time for this,” she whispered, as she took him inside of her.
He had stopped using condoms a couple of weeks ago, after he’d learned she got Depo-Provera shots every three months, and after both of them had tested negative for any and all sorts of communicable disease. The first time he’d fucked her bare he had almost come on the spot, it had felt that incredible. Fortunately, with Sasha’s guidance these past few weeks, he had learned to control himself and prolong their lovemaking, and not worry about climaxing too soon. Having regular sex had also helped in that regard, and he knew he’d never been so physically satisfied in his life. Given, however, that the bulk of his sexual experiences had been with Lindsey - who had always been focused on her own pleasure and had rarely bothered tending to his needs - it wasn’t at all surprising that having someone as giving and unselfish as Sasha for his lover had changed all of that.
As he thrust deep inside her warm, welcoming body, he thought wildly that nothing had ever felt so good, that no other woman had ever made him feel so much like a man, and that he never, ever wanted to let her go.
Chapter Nine
Late November
For what was probably the third or fourth time already this evening, Sasha offered up silent thanks that she had taken so many workshops over the years on meditation, and had spent so many hours working on her own deep breathing techniques. Because for the better part of the past ninety minutes, she’d found herself utilizing nearly every method she knew of to control her nearly nonexistent temper, and to restrain herself from giving the teenaged girl sitting across the table from her a good hard smack.
Matthew had been so excited at the prospect of finally introducing Sasha to his children that she hadn’t had the heart to dissuade him. It wasn’t that she didn’t like kids, not that she’d had much experience with them over the years. She had dated a guy a couple of years back who had two small children, and the relationship had fizzled out pretty quickly when he realized that Sasha had no intention of settling down anytime soon. It hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to figure out that he had really been looking for a stepmother for his kids, especially since he had primary custody of them. Since then she had more or less kept her distance from guys with kids from previous relationships, not wanting to be thrust into the unwelcome role of surrogate mom at this stage of her life.
At least Matthew’s kids were older - sixteen and thirteen - and both of them seemed self-sufficient and mature. Though given the snooty way his daughter had been acting all evening, Sasha thought dourly that her behavior was more like that of a spoiled little girl than a teenager.
Hayley had been in a sullen, withdrawn mood from the moment Sasha had arrived to meet her, Matthew, and Casey for dinner at this trendy restaurant. The girl had barely acknowledged Sasha, and the replies she’d made thus far to any questions posed to her had been short and grudgingly given. She had spent the better part of the meal practically glued to her smartphone, texting back and forth with several friends, or checking her email. None of Matthew’s admonitions to put the phone down and join in the conversation had had any sort of effect, and considering the angry, irritated expression on his face, it seemed that he was giving up on things improving anytime soon.
Casey, on the other hand, was friendly and easy to engage, and seemed more than eager to talk about school, sports, and whatever else Sasha asked him about. He was a very likeable, entirely genuine kid, and seemed almost grateful for the attention she was paying him. Unlike his brat of an older sister, who had just rolled her eyes when Sasha had politely inquired if she had begun to think about what colleges she might want to attend.
It was pretty darned obvious that Hayley wasn’t happy about having her father’s new girlfriend along for dinner, a possibility that Sasha had cautioned Matthew about more than once. But he’d dismissed her concerns, stating firmly that his daughter wasn’t a little girl any longer, and that she needed to accept the fact that her parents weren’t getting back together.
Sasha, however, didn’t think that was the real motive behind Hayley’s unfriendly behavior this evening. The girl paid her father scant attention, and seemed completely bored at having to spend time with him. She had barely touched her food, even though she’d apparently insisted on going to this particular restaurant, and had ordered one of the most expensive items on the menu. There had been another eye roll from her, accompanied by a look of scorn, when Sasha had ordered the only vegetarian entrée on the menu, followed up by a look of complete shock when Matthew had also ordered the same dish.
And when the delicious Moroccan vegetable tangine that they ordered had arrived, Hayley had made a huge production number of turning up her nose in disgust and telling her father in disdain, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to eat that, Dad. It looks like someone puked up their guts. And it smells awful.”
Matthew had quietly rebuked Hayley for her comments, but the girl had just shrugged and resumed texting, more or less ignoring the very costly steak she had ordered.
Sasha glanced across the table discreetly at Hayley, who hadn’t glanced up from her phone or said a word for at least ten minutes. She tried to imagine her own mother tolerating such rude behavior for even a minute, and shook her head with a wry smile. Katya might be short-tempered, impatient, and outspoken, but she had raised Sasha with very strict standards of behavior, had taught her from a very young age how to act like a lady and always mind her manners. Katya wouldn’t have hesitated even for a second to rip the phone from Hayley’s hand and refuse to give it back until the girl showed some respect to her father and the others at the table. Sasha’s own hand itched to do just that, but she would never be as bold and confrontational as her mother, so she kept her mouth shut. Besides, she reasoned, Hayley was Matthew’s daughter, not hers, and it wasn’t any of her business how the girl behaved.
She was a very pretty girl, acknowledged Sasha, though she wore far too much makeup for a sixteen-year-old. The girl’s eyebrows had been professionally waxed and shaped, and her nails recently manicured. Hayley was wearing skintight designer jeans, a low-cut black cashmere sweater, and a fitted black leather jacket. Knee high black leather boots with a spiky heel completed the outfit that Sasha privately considered a tad too provocative for a girl still in high school. Hayley’s dark brown hair was long, shiny, and stick straight, and Sasha guessed it took frequent visits to a very expensive hair salon to keep it looking that way. The black leather handbag Hayley had plunked on the table bore a Prada label, and even though Sasha eschewed designer styles herself she was still familiar with the name of the high end brand, and just assumed that the bag had cost a considerable amount of money.
And Sasha hadn’t missed the scornful way Hayley had glanced at her own outfit this evening - a long skirt of taupe wool, a cream cotton peasant blouse, and the faux-suede tan ankle boots that she’d bought nearly a decade ago in Brazil. Combined with Sasha’s wild curls, lack of makeup, and a matching set of drop earrings and bangle bracelets made of amber and copper, she was the image of boho chic - a style that Hayley evidently was not impressed with.
If she had to venture a guess, Sasha would
assume that Hayley had been pampered and indulged for years - largely by her mother, since Matthew seemed far more down-to-earth - and got whatever she wanted - the designer clothes and purse; eating out at expensive, exclusive restaurants; salon treatments. For her recent sixteenth birthday, Matthew had bought Hayley a brand new car, along with the phone that never seemed to leave her hand, and Sasha assumed that hadn’t been all of her gift.
It didn’t bother her in the least that Matthew indulged his children. They were his kids, after all, and he was perfectly entitled to buy them whatever he desired. Sasha just wished - for Matthew’s sake - that his daughter might appear to be a little bit grateful for the very posh lifestyle she enjoyed. Instead, from what she’d been able to determine, Hayley just expected these things, had grown used to getting whatever she wanted, and didn’t feel the need to express her gratitude. Matthew deserved better than that from his daughter, and Sasha continued to bite her tongue to keep herself from saying exactly that out loud.
Fortunately, Casey was the polar opposite of his surly, snooty sister, and joked and conversed easily with his father. The boy resembled his father greatly, from the color of his hair and eyes, to the slight cleft of his chin. He was also extremely intelligent, evidenced by the in-depth questions he asked Matthew about computers and the newest software MBI was designing. It was obvious from the way he beamed with approval at everything he said that Casey was Matthew’s pride and joy, and Sasha’s heart ached a little to think of how badly father and son must miss each other. As opposed to Hayley, who more or less continued to ignore her father as the evening progressed.
Matthew made yet another attempt to engage his disinterested daughter in conversation. “Hayley, did I ever tell you that Sasha’s mother is one of the dancers on that show you and your mom like so much - uh, what’s it called? Ballroom something or other.”
Serenity (Inevitable Book 5) Page 14