He shook his head in disbelief. “You are using sex to ask me to do laundry again?”
She shook her head, grazing his dick with her cheek as she did so. “No, darlin’, I’ll have sex with you even if you don’t agree to be a prince and do my laundry instead of threatening your landlord.” She stuck out her tongue and ran it across the sensitive ridge of his large penis, taking its bulbous head in her mouth for just a second before saying, “But if you agree to wash just two loads of my clothes, I can guarantee the sex will be even hotter.”
He wasn’t a laughing man by nature, but he’d be damned if Eva didn’t make him smile. “In my country, the girlfriends not only do their own laundry, but also that of their boyfriends.”
“Mmm-hmm…” This time she took his dick in her hand and closed her mouth around it, giving it three languorous sucks before letting it go again. “You probably wish you had one of them Russian girlfriends right now, don’t you? I’m sure they always have clean underwear to wear under their miniskirts.”
“You are vixen. You should wash own clothes every week as I do. And not wait until last minute.”
She took him in her mouth, and this time she suckled him for long minutes until he forgot all about the gym and instead took her by the back of the head, holding it steady as he pumped himself into her mouth, while an urgent need built up inside his groin.
But all of a sudden, she stopped and forcibly withdrew her mouth from his penis. She then dodged his seeking hand when he tried to pull her back down to finish what she had started.
“I think I should demonstrate what might happen if you send me off to school with no panties today,” she said before dancing away to open a dresser drawer, from which she pulled out a miniskirt. She turned her back to him and hooked her thumbs into the sides of her bikini bottoms, pushing them down over her hourglass hips and deliciously round derriere, before stepping out of them and pulling on her miniskirt.
“Cuz maybe I’m just being silly. I might not have anything to worry about, right?” She knocked a pen off the dresser and gasped with a faux innocent look. “Oops! I dropped this pen. I better pick it up.”
She bent over at the waist, giving him a tantalizing peek of her glistening wet pussy. “You can’t see anything can you? Nothing that would attract any unwanted attention from a School of Social Work security guard, right?”
Before he could even try to reason himself out of her sexy trap, he was behind her, sinking his dick—still wet from her mouth—into her soaking pussy. “I will do your laundry, kotenok, but only if you promise to be waiting for me in this exact same position when I get home.”
She braced herself against the dresser as he pistoned into her. “Oh, baby, I will let you do whatever you want to me tonight. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, in such a way that Alexei couldn’t be sure if she was talking about the laundry he’d just agreed to do, or the sex they were currently having.
He pulled her skirt-covered hips into his, riding her and loving the way she let her chin drop to her chest in delicious abandonment, as if his sex was some kind of heroin-like drug that made her feel loose all over. The wet sounds of their bodies slapping together filled the apartment until she came with a loud cry and he released into her with a stream of Russian words.
She laughed as she came down. “I have no idea what that means, but I for sure agree.”
He pulled out of her but kept a hand cupped over her pussy, which was now leaking with his seed. “When we do this again tonight, one hand will be here…” He brushed his right thumb against her still-swollen clit and took a hold of her left breast in the other. “And one hand will be here on this breast. And I will not let you come until you are screaming my name. My full name, not pet one you insist on using.”
She laughed again and rubbed her ass against him. “In that case, I can’t wait until you get home.”
He nuzzled his face against the back of her neck, savoring the way she smelled, like sex and sandalwood soap, and her Russian boyfriend. “I love you very much. You know this, yes?”
She turned in his arms, pulling her miniskirt down before stringing her arms around his neck. “I know this. And I love you right back, baby.”
He kissed her, “Good. I will make you prove tonight.”
But when Alexei arrived home that night, he did not find Eva waiting for him as she had promised. In fact, the apartment was dark when he came in, filling him with worry. She had also not stopped by the school’s security desk, where he usually sat with one of his thick Economics textbooks, to visit with him. He also hadn’t seen her while making his rounds, which he was required to perform every hour on the hour.
Halfway through the day, he peeked into the window of her Non-Violent Conflict Resolution classroom, which was the seminar he thought she took on Friday afternoons, but no Eva. And when he called the apartment’s landline to tell her he was on his way home, she hadn’t answered.
As he walked home from campus, he vowed to haul Eva down to the nearest electronics store to get her a cell phone the next morning. Her father had shut hers off when she insisted on staying with Alexei. And whenever Alexei talked about adding her to his plan, she pointed out that they couldn’t afford it. Eva hadn’t taken out any student loans, because her father had been covering all of her expenses. And when he cut her off, it was too late to apply for any work-study jobs.
She had wanted to get a part-time job, but Alexei had talked her out of it. With her summer credits, she’d only one more semester to go versus the remaining full year of B-school he had left. Also, she had enough to deal with, having to get field-work hours in on top of a full class load. He’d just have to figure out a way to afford adding another person to his plan. Maybe he could take on a second work-study job.
He tried to keep his thoughts on her lack of a phone as opposed to letting them stray to other territories. Territories that included the kind of foul play that had gotten his mother killed when he was four and his father shot down when he was eighteen.
So when he arrived home and found their apartment empty, rather than panic, he chose instead to focus on finding her. As he flipped on the lights, he forced himself to think about the simple gold band, which had been sitting in his sock drawer for almost a month now. Its price tag was the reason he’d only had forty-two dollars left in his bank up until today. He’d wanted to take her to a nice dinner after he proposed, so he’d had to wait until he got paid. It troubled him that he had to wait just to be able to afford to take her out to a decent meal, and even more so that he wouldn’t be able to truly provide for her until he was finished with his program.
But he hoped Eva wouldn’t care about the current miserable state of his finances. He imagined her only condition to marrying him might be his promising to do her laundry at least once a month, a condition he would gladly meet if it meant he’d get to spend the rest of his life with her.
But now, standing in their empty apartment, a new, uneasy feeling came over him, and he realized why when he looked around. The two loads of laundry he had done for her that morning were no longer sitting on top of the table where he’d left them. Usually she had to be badgered into folding and putting away her clothes in a timely manner. But now the table was completely cleared off and the laundry basket was nowhere to be seen. If she’d been kidnapped, or even if he’d just beat her home, there’d still be laundry on the table. No, something about this wasn’t right.
Like a player in a bad romantic drama, he yanked open the top drawer on her side of the dresser and found it empty, then the next drawer, and the next. He opened the closet with trembling hands, not wanting to believe what was beginning to become obvious. But the closet was empty, too. Her dresses, hats, and other items were missing, the empty space giving no indication that anything had ever been there. And when he went into the bathroom, he found all of her toiletries gone. She’d even taken her toothbrush and dental floss.
He eventually found her note, hanging on the refrigerator door, written in the loopy handwriting he’d thought so endearing up until that moment.
I’m sorry, but I can’t live like this anymore. I want my old life back. My father was right. I can do better than you. Please take care of yourself. You’re a hard worker, and I know you can make it if you put your mind to it. Please concentrate on trying to better yourself, and don’t try to find me. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m sure this is for the best.
Years later, business pundits would ponder onscreen and off what had made Alexei Rusakov the absolutely ruthless businessman he became after graduating from business school. Many would point to the untimely death of his father or the temporary estrangement from his Russian crime family.
But Alexei would always know the hidden truth. A silly black girl from a small town in Texas had ripped his heart out one night when he was least expecting it. And after that, he’d found it rather easy to be heartless.