Chapter 5 A deep trade

Mishka's pov

I am in a hotel room this time around. Beluga in my hand. I am beginning to think this is a ritual. That I need to be drunk when I do this.

“Welcome to Whisper, where we make all your dreams and fantasies come true.” In my head, I say the words with her. “If you wish to speak to a male operator, press one. If you—”

Beep.

I do not wait for her to finish. I press four.

“Okay! Can you confirm the operator's name, please?”

The voice changer disguises my accent. “Vivian,” I grunt.

I take a swig of the Beluga. The vodka no longer burns when it hits the back of my throat.

“Hello?” her familiar voice answers. Not raspy or deep. Not a man.

“Hello Vivian.”

I can hear the smile in her voice when she realizes who is speaking.

“Mk! I missed you the last time you called.”

Yes. The last time. When she was unavailable. When I lied that I would give this up. But bad habits die hard.

“Mhm. It is okay. You can make it up to me now.”

A moan escapes her. She knows exactly what I mean. “Yes.”

“What are you wearing?” She moans again loudly. Like this is good for her. But I know the truth. I know she is only pretending because she gets paid to make people cum.

“Nothing,” her voice is soft and breathless. “I am naked, Mk.”

Lie. “Liar.” I hear her gasp. I know she is surprised. Normally, I do not care if she lied or not. So why do I care now?

“I am not lying, Mk. I wish you could see me now. How naked I am. And wet. I'm dripping, Mk.”

My dick is just catching up now. Normally I would have been hard by now. I stroke it. Once. Twice.

My voice drops low. The way that makes women do anything I say. “Touch yourself.”

There is shuffling on the other end. Then a low groan. Some squelching noises. Whether it is real or fake, I do not know. And I do not care.

My dick is fully hard now. Finally. I squeeze the head and precum pools at the slit. I graze my thumb over it and slide it down my length. Feels good. Makes me groan and sigh.

Vivian is moaning and whining. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Don't stop. Don't stop.”

My dick is already growing soft. Fuck. No. No. Now why? I fist my cock harder. Twist my wrist tighter. But it does not work. My head falls back and I stare at the ceiling. My hand is still working my fallen erection. Why? I think. Why embarrass me like an old man in front of a woman. Until—

I stop.

Not because I want to. My hand just stops by itself. Her voice is right. Her words are right. Everything is right, and it is nothing.

“Mk?” Her moaning cuts off. “Why did you stop?”

“Tell me to wait.” The words fly out before I know it.

“What?”

“Tell me not to come. Until you say.”

Silence. Shuffling. “You... want me to tell you what to do? Mk, you always tell me.”

“Just say.” Maybe if she says it, I will cum. Then I will not need to panic. I will not be gay.

“Okay. Okay.” She clears her throat. “You... cannot come until I say so?” It goes up at the end. Like a question. Like she is reading from a card.

Wrong. All wrong. There is no edge in it. No smile I can hear, no voice that knows something I do not.

Fuck.

But there is another thing. Two words. They are in my throat and I cannot push them out.

“And say...” I swallow. “Never mind.”

My cock is flaccid in my hand now, and now I wish I had not drunk so much. It is not her fault. She did exactly what I asked. Problem is that I ask her.

“Mk, did I do something wrong? I can try again, I—”

“Not worry, Vivian. Is nothing.”

“Did you finish?” she asks. The question is ridiculous I almost laugh.

“No, Vivian. I not cum.” I stand and move to the mini bar and place the empty bottle on the shelf.

“We can try another scene.”

I sigh. Sweet girl. But this is a me problem. “No. I think for tonight, I am done.”

“Oh.” I hear shuffling. Then the sound of clothes. Was that not a lie? Had she really been naked?

Fuck. It is ten times worse now. Because now I know I had a naked girl and still did not cum.

“So how's the season—”

I end the call before she can continue. I know what she wants to ask. About the season. Because she knows who I am.

I told her two years ago. It came out by accident. But she made a promise, to not tell anyone. Ever.

But why would she bring it up now? When I almost had a panic attack. I thought if I heard the words from another person then the spell would be broken. But it only made things worse.

Then I get an idea. A bad idea. A crazy idea. But it may work.

It is a simple test. I meet a man, any man, and see if my body wakes up. If it does not, then what happened that night was an accident. I was drunk, lonely, nothing more. I go back to Vivian and everything is normal.

And if it does...

I do not finish that thought. I pull out my phone and download Grindr.

In two weeks, I have deleted Grindr and installed it again five times. Every time I open the app, what I see makes me want to break my screen.

And when the notification sound rang out earlier, my neighbor looked at me like I was a crazy person.

“Good morning, Volkov,” Coach Mitchell greets me. He is the only one on the team that does. I want to ask him about Mack but the words do not come out.

“Morning, Coach,” I mumble and go to the bench to drop my duffel bag.

When I return, the other teammates are crowding someone I cannot see. The person is in black clothes and not training uniform.

“What is happening Coach?”

“Good. Now that you're here, I can introduce you to your newest teammate.”

Eh?

New teammate?

So Coach was serious about getting a substitute player.

The crowd clears and I see him. My first reaction is disbelief. There is just no way. Did Coach not see anybody else?

Of all the players he could find, why did it have to be Dima fucking Shevchenko?