[TUESDAY]
On Tuesday, Natasha arrived early for her rendezvous with Anton. She lay naked on the soft sheets, her body bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp as she waited for Anton to join her.
The anticipation in the air was thick until she heard a low, frustrated groan coming from behind the room’s dividing screen. She sat up slowly, concern replacing desire.
When Anton finally stepped into view, he was completely naked, but flaccid. He dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed near her and buried his head in his hands, shoulders tense.
“I can’t get it up,” he muttered, his voice angry and muffled. “I’m going to lose my fucking mind!”
“Is it Binky again?” Natasha asked gently. “Let me help you. I can get your mind off him.”
Anton lifted his head and turned toward her, eyes dark with frustration. “No - yes, I’m still having problems with Binky dodging me, but this time it’s Dee.”
“What happened with her?”
He let out a long, frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “She fucking let Tiny sign off on two containers with the wrong destination. Two of Anthony’s containers.”
“Oh, no…” Natasha whispered, her expression falling.
“Yeah.” Anton’s jaw clenched. “I got so pissed I just grabbed the closest thing and threw it at her. It was my letter opener. It…cut her pretty bad.”
Natasha’s hand flew briefly to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock. “Oh, Anton,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment.
“I know, I know,” he replied, rubbing his face. “I’m still pissed as fuck at her, but I really didn’t mean to hurt her like that. I’m thinking about giving her some time off after she handles this situation. She’s already been looking tired lately. Maybe I’ve been pushing her too hard.”
“You’ve always been harder on her than the others,” Natasha observed softly.
“She’s my firstborn,” Anton said, his tone defensive yet weary. “Six kids to my name - four of which I’m pretty sure are actually mine - and Dee’s the one I count on the most. She’s supposed to be able to handle things.”
“I’m sure she will,” Natasha replied, reaching out to brush her fingers lightly along his arm. “But if she doesn’t…give her a bit of grace. For me.”
Anton shook his head with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know why you always speak up for her when she hates you.”
Natasha’s lips curved into a seductive grin, her eyes gleaming with intent as she leaned closer. “Do you really want to keep talking about her?” she asked, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. She extended her hand, trailing her fingertips down his chest. “Come and lay with me. Let me take care of you.”
