Kingmakers, Graduation

5. Sabrina

5

SAbrINA

T he dancer’s name is Kylie and she’s from Australia. She’s been working in clubs across Europe, in Ibiza at first, then Cannes, now Dubrovnik.

“I’ll work through the summer, then head home in the fall.” She downs the last of her drink. “Well, it won’t be fall in Melbourne. I guess I’ll have two summers in a row.”

I order us another round for the road, since Adrik will be the one driving.

“It’s on me,” I tell Kylie as she reaches for her purse.

“My god you’re gorgeous,” Kylie remarks. “You should be a model. I tried when I came to Spain, but I wasn’t tall enough.”

“You look pretty fucking perfect to me,” I tell her.

Kylie blushes, pleased and already a little tipsy. I don’t think I was the first person to buy her a drink tonight .

“That guy you were with?—”

“Adrik.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“It’s our first date.”

Kylie laughs. “You’re a wild one.”

“You have no idea.”

The music thuds around us. I’m enveloped in her sweet floral scent.

“What’s that perfume?”

“ ‘Very Irresistible.’ ”

“It certainly is.”

She giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. Her teeth are crooked, the incisors overlapping the ones in front. I think it’s adorable.

I lean forward.

“Why don’t you come home with me so I can see if you taste as good as you smell?”

Kylie blushes redder than ever. “Is your hotel close by?” she murmurs.

“Fuck if I know.”

Seizing her by the hand, I pull her to her feet. Her heels are even taller than mine, putting us at almost the same height. The blue dress clings to her body. All I can think is how badly I want to uncover those soft breasts again and press them against mine.

“Come on,” I say, pulling her toward the stairs .

Adrik is already waiting when we exit the club, pulled up to the curb in a vintage Alfa Romeo, black with cream interior.

I stare at the car, more startled than impressed.

The ‘65 Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider is one of my all-time favorite cars. My father used to have one.

I don’t believe for a second this is a coincidence. Adrik did his homework.

The man has gone all-out for our date. I brought an outfit in a backpack—he shipped two vehicles halfway around the world. I researched the Petrovs, Adrik did his research on me .

I’m beginning to realize that I’m in way over my head.

Adrik leans his elbow on the doorframe, window rolled down.

“Get in,” he orders.

Kylie jumps to attention like she’s been spanked, hurrying over to the car and sliding in the backseat.

I follow at a slower pace, my eyes running down the sleek lines of the car.

“I thought you’d like it,” Adrik says, rightfully smug.

He keeps dangling toy after toy in front of me. If this is the bait, then where’s the trap?

I could turn around and walk away right now. Maybe I should.

But Kylie is already in the back seat, looking up at me, that blue dress riding up on her thighs, those perfect tits stretching the limits of modern textiles .

Adrik fills the whole of the front seat, drumming his fingers impatiently on the wheel, his masculine scent drowning out Kylie’s perfume.

I want a dozen different things in this moment, and I want them desperately. My heart races, my chest tight, an anxious throbbing in my guts.

My own words echo in my head: I want it all.

Climbing into the backseat beside Kylie, I say, “Let’s go.”