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The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня
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He was right, and I let myself be picked up in his arms. The room was also dark. I didn't know where to turn on the light, and Andrew just hadn't seen fit to do so. Darkness, a bedroom, and a man – the combination made me a little uncomfortable, and I hastily tried to move away from him, leaning on my sore leg. I staggered; Andrew picked me up and pulled me against him. His breath traveled down my neck, and my legs weakened for another reason.

The lock on my dress moved, and a trail of light kisses traveled down my back. The dress fell to my feet, followed by my bra. Principles and moral attitudes also scattered to the corners of my consciousness and lurked so that I couldn't find them. The world shook, changing our position in space. The weight of a man's body added to the kisses. He pulled me under his thighs and pulled me to him, pressing me against his groin.

Consciousness made one last attempt to stop it. To order the barely familiar man to stop. But the first push put an end to extraneous thoughts. His hands, his lips seemed to have time everywhere, the movements becoming sharper, faster, more passionate. All that was left to do was claw at the sheet, scream, and then try to breathe.

Reality ceased to be clear, lost color, feeling, and contours, and even blacked out for a while.

While I was trying to catch my breath, get my thoughts in order, and not burn with shame, Andrew kissed my shoulder, got up, and walked out. Wrapping myself in the blanket, I jumped up. For some reason, I couldn't find any of my things, not even my dress. I couldn't run out of the apartment in a blanket!

"A shower will do us good," Andrew informed me.

I shuddered and tried to hold onto the blanket that was crawling away. Andrew was slowly but surely getting rid of it. It was too late to say anything about shame, and even more so to educate him about the fact that we didn't know each other very well.

"What shower? I have a bandage," I mumbled

From the context, I realized that Andrew was planning to shower together. I was right. Scooping me up in his arms, he carried me into the bathroom and sat me down on the pouf, then, unwrapping the bandage, imprinted a few kisses on my knees.

"Looks like this isn't going to be just a shower," I realized.

"What are you doing?

It was the stupidest question I could think of, but I asked it anyway. I wanted some way to show that I wasn't a willful puppet. But the result wasn't very good.

“What am I doing? Oh, what I'm doing today, and what I'll be doing tomorrow...."

That sounded promising. I was confused. He pulled me to him and kissed me. The thought, "What am I doing?!" flashed at the edge of my consciousness, but I quickly pushed it away. Myself. Could I ever lose my head for once in my life? Finally putting all doubts aside, I responded to the kiss. Andrew pulled me off the floor and stepped under the jets of water. I shrieked in surprise and instinctively wrapped my legs around his hips.

“Good girl," he murmured.

I snorted and kissed him myself, wrapping my arms around his neck. The water was warm, but it felt icy against his skin.

"We were going to take a shower, weren't we?" I asked.

I wriggled out of his arms and grabbed a washcloth and shower gel. I needed to cool down a little. Every time he touched my skin, it seemed to burn. Andrew took the washcloth, ran it over my back and chest, and thinking the washing was over, threw it on the floor. He picked me up and pushed my back against the wall.

"We're going to fall here," I whispered.

Andrew grinned and pushed forward. I exhaled and arched my back in surprise, clutching at his shoulders. The world split into before and after. Finally, lost, I bit his shoulder. Andrew growled, and his movements became stronger and sharper. I dug even harder into the skin on his back, leaving deep nail marks. Andrew exhaled and bit my earlobe.

We didn't fall to the floor after all. Andrew slowly sank to his knees, letting me go.

" Well, now we're washed! " I said.

Andrew laughed and pecked me on the temple. I moved sluggishly, my strength gone. I hope he's taking me to bed.

2 Chapter

It was a great escape. I had never felt more ashamed than I did that morning. I struggled to free myself from Andrew's embrace, gathered my clothes, and, dressing on the fly, jumped out of the apartment. Now I didn't even understand what came over me! Probably, my resentment toward my lover, alcohol, and the remnants of pride played their part. Nothing raises self-esteem as much as the opportunity to feel desirable!

Providence decided to take pity on me: I had change from the grocery store in my coat pocket, and I managed to catch a cab almost immediately. My leg didn't go away, only swelled more. Not all of my underwear had been collected, some of it had been left in enemy territory, and my stockings had disappeared even earlier, so I felt as if I'd jumped out into the street without clothes.

The driver was looking at me in the rearview mirror, and I thought he had figured it all out. For a teacher, publicity is the worst. For some reason, teachers are supposed to keep their reputations like a virgin in the Middle Ages.

It was good that I had put my keys, which I had taken from Alex while running away from the restaurant, in my coat pocket. I hadn't thought about losing mine. I flew to the third floor, made sure that Alex wasn't waiting for me in the entrance, and entered the apartment.

The first thing I did was go to the bathroom, wash my face, and scrutinize the scattering of hickies on my neck. I'd have to hide them with a scarf, I couldn't blame it on the curling iron. And, having changed into a cozy sport suit, I went to the kitchen to drink coffee. It would also be nice to go to the drugstore or even ask my neighbor to do it.

No sooner had I settled down at the table, putting my injured leg on a neighboring stool, than the doorbell rang. Sighing, I hurried down the hallway, feeling a sense of unease. And it was justified! In the stairwell stood Alex, disheveled. He held his jacket in his hands.

The unfortunate thing is that if you pay attention, you can see a shadow on the other side of the peephole. Of course, Alex noticed me and angrily kicked the door.

“Marina, open up, we need to talk.”

“We?!” I was theatrically surprised. “It seems to me that we have nothing to discuss.”

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