"Dimitri, I honestly didn't even think I liked stroganoff before I had this! It was amazing!" Rose told me, as she inelegantly swiped her finger across her plate. Once it was coated in the small amount of sauce that she'd left behind with her silverware, she brought her finger up to her mouth.

I was speechless as I watched Rose lick and suck the sauce from her finger. I was already hard as a rock all through dinner and what she was doing was definitely not helping. And I was one hundred percent sure from the way that Roza was looking at me as she did it and the things she was doing with her lips and tongue, that the way she was licking and sucking that finger was purely to turn me on more. It was working.

"Dimitri?" Rose asked, sitting there with a wicked smile on her face.

"Huh?" I asked, unaware of anything but my aching shaft and her luscious mouth. And thoughts of her luscious mouth on my aching shaft.

"The stroganoff?"

"Oh," I replied, "I'm glad you liked it. Unlike the bread, that's one of the recipes my Mama is willing to share. I've been making it since she would let me handle cooking."

"Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to have me help," Rose offered, "I feel like I learned a few things tonight."

"I bet you could even make it on your own now," I chuckled, smiling at her.

"Not a chance, Comrade," she told me, "I'll just have to keep you around so that you can make it for me more often."

I feel like this woman had my emotions running the full gamut every time I was with her. One minute, I was aroused beyond comprehension, the next I was laughing, and now ... my amused grin turned serious as I replied, "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

I want to marry this woman. She's so incredible.

Rose stood up and walked around the table, sitting down in my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck. Her ass was right up against my hard manhood and it felt so good. Rose leaned in and brought her lips to mine, gently nipping and running her tongue along my bottom lip. As my tongue came in contact with hers, my arms circled her waist and pulled her close. Rose moaned low and throaty and her full, luscious breasts pressed up against my chest. I was breathing in the warmth of her breath and her tongue was tickling mine. My hand ran up her spine to run through her silky hair as the other gripped her waist more tightly, clutching her to me.

Just when I thought - and hoped - that the moment would never end, the timer in the kitchen beeped, drawing us both out of what we were doing.

I pulled away from her kiss and blinked a few times, saying, "It's time to bake the bread now."

Rose got up off from my lap, giving me just enough time to surreptitiously adjust my erection while she was turned the other way. Then, I got up and we walked to the kitchen, hand in hand.

Rose began preheating the oven while I put the bread in the first pan to bake, then I turned back to see her sitting on the kitchen counter with Ivan's bright pink paperback open in her hands. "I wondered what this was," said Rose, mischief lighting on her face. Ivan had tucked a sheet with 'instructions' on it inside the cover of the book and she was reading them now.

"My best friend lent that to me for tonight," I told her, "he can be a little ..."

I struggled for the right word when Rose interrupted, holding the page up, saying, "Crass?"

I laughed and nodded, "Yes, he can be a bit crass sometimes. I guess I'd prefer to think of him as 'direct'. He means well. And most of his ideas usually have merit. What do his instructions say?"

Rose handed the sheet to me.

Dimitri,

Go through the book and pick random questions by number. Each of you take turns asking the other a question. You can both answer each question picked, or you can each answer something different. The whole point of this is to really get to know one another, so you each have to commit to answer honestly and try to answer as many as possible. If either of you come across something you're uncomfortable answering or a question that's just boring or doesn't fit, pick a new number and try again.

If you come across something really personal that your girl is uncomfortable answering, assume the worst and get out while you still can. She's probably got some skeletons in her closet.

I know how much you care about this girl. This book has gotten me laid multiple times. Chicks eat this stuff up. Don't blow this.

-Ivan

Rose had already started looking through the book. "So, do we want to do this?" she asked.

"It's up to you. You don't have to. Do you want to?"

"Sure, let's give it a try. If we don't like it, we'll just quit and do something else. Here goes nothing," she replied.

I asked, "Who goes first?"

"Pick a number, Comrade."

"I don't know what to pick," I told her.

"What's your birthday?"

"November twenty-sixth," I said, "but the numbers don't go up that high to eleven twenty-sex. I was due on December second, though."

"Okay. One twenty-two it is, then," Rose flipped to the page and asked, "Will you ever be too old to fall head-over-heels in love? If so, when and why?"

I thought for a minute. "Yes and no. I believe that everyone gets their one true love. I'd like to think that once I know I've found the love of my life, I will love her for the rest of my life and be head-over-heels for her until the day I die."

I finished putting the bread in the second pan and washed my hands, asking, "Are you going to answer the same question, or should we pick a new one?"

Rose smiled and said, "Let's stick with both answering each question. I actually think my answer would be the same. I feel like I have a soul mate somewhere out there. I'm going to love him forever." Rose looked into my eyes as she added, "Then again, maybe I've already met him and I just don't know it yet." Before I had time to think more about what she said, she tossed me the book, saying, "My birthday is March twenty-first, but I don't think the numbers go up that high, either, so let's do two twenty-one. I didn't peak at the question."

"What is the most open discussion of sex you have had with your parents or siblings?" I asked. Dread filled me as I thought of the conversation with Viktoria from Thursday morning.

Rose smiled at me and said, "This book sure doesn't pull any punches, does it? When Lissa and I left for Portland, I'd never met my father. He has a lot of money and used his resources to have us found and brought back. When he returned me home, he had stayed the night and my mom was ... grateful ... in a very physical way. I had a very long talk with them that morning. I'd wanted the discussion to be mostly about boundaries and discretion, but they were surprisingly - disturbingly - open about it all. It was maybe the most awkward conversation I'd ever had with anyone. I felt more like a parent to them than vice versa. You?"

I groaned as I admitted, "This actually happened yesterday morning. I had a ... umm ... rather ... vigorous dream and my sister Viktoria caught me trying to get rid of the evidence."

"Vigorous?" Rose asked, her expression confused.

"It was ... umm ... productive?"

"Oh! Oh, my!" Rose's eyes were suddenly lit with comprehension, as if someone turned on a lightbulb in her head. "And what, exactly, were you dreaming about?"

Chills went up and down my spine, heat shooting straight to my aching shaft, as I admitted, "The beautiful woman who kissed me after dinner tonight."

"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

How could I not think she was beautiful? Lately, I'd lost all ability to temper my words with reason when it came to Roza. Staring into her exotic, dark eyes, I blurted out, "So beautiful, it hurts me sometimes."

Rose took her hand and fanned herself, then got down off of the counter and walked to the refrigerator. "Is it hot in here? I think the air conditioning isn't turned up high enough. How about another glass of wine?"

I'd already had three and would have to go home to Randall within the next couple of hours. For being an angry drunk, my father could be remarkably hypocritical about the idea of my drinking. "I better not," I told her, teasing, "I don't need to get drunk and have you take advantage of me, Roza."

"Well, in that case," she said as she leaned in to press a kiss to my lips, "Well maybe just one more glass for each of us, then. So I don't take advantage of you, Comrade." She finished with a wink, then turned and poured us each another glass of wine and pulled herself back up onto her seat on the counter.

I set my glass down and handed Rose the book and asked, "How do we pick what number next?"

"How about your lucky number?" she asked, "Do you have one?"

"I guess sixty-three," I replied. That was my jersey number when I played football.

Rose looked at the question and chuckled. "Oh-ho-ho, Comrade," she said, "You picked a good one. Roughly how many times a day do sexual thoughts come into your mind in an average day?"

Before I could stop my mouth, I asked Rose, "Before or after I met you?" Those three glasses of wine were definitely starting to affect me.

Rose smirked. "Let's hear both answers."

"Before, on average, maybe once every three to four hours. Since then, probably once or twice an hour. More when I'm with you, though."

Rose's eyes darkened as she looked at me, weighing my response. "Wow, Comrade, we have to get your mind out of the gutter! For me, probably two to three times a day before I met you. Maybe a bit more since then."

I moved close to where Rose sat on the counter, coming to stand between her knees. "How much more?" I asked her, bringing my hand up to cup the side of her face, feeling her soft skin and silky hair.

"When you're not with me, maybe once every two to three hours." I ran my thumb along Rose's bottom lip as she let out a little sigh. "When you are, it's hard to stop." I leaned in and kissed her again, letting my tongue caress hers.

As Rose began to moan again, I pulled away, knowing that this was no way to keep from touching her until after the third date, and picked up the book. "What's your lucky number, Roza?" I asked her.

"I guess, if anything, I'm more unlucky than lucky, so maybe thirteen," she offered. I looked at the question. "It says, 'In what ways do you and your partner compete with each other?' It doesn't really 'fit' for us."

"Yeah, not really," Rose agreed, "Let's try one-thirteen, then?"

I glanced at the question and shuddered. "Do you reach a more intense orgasm through intercourse, oral sex, masturbation, or having a partner touch you? I'm not sure I want to answer this question. It might be too personal." Not to mention I hadn't tried three out of four of those.

Rose smiled, "It is a really personal question, but I'll answer it. I guess the most personal part is the admission of which of those you've done, especially masturbation. But I guess that has to be my answer. I've never come by someone else's hand."

I sat there in shock for a moment at her words. "Never?"

"Never," she reiterated, putting her arms back around me as she added, "but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to try."

Fuck, this woman was so eager for me to take her! How was I going to keep my hands off of her for another week?

"How about we choose another question?" I asked, "Maybe we just flip a couple of pages and pick one?" I handed her the book.

"One-eighteen," she began, "When and where did you lose your virginity, and since then what has been the longest time you've ever gone without sex?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. "And now you'll start to see why I had such trouble with the last question," I told her, "I wasn't joking last week when I told you I was a virgin, Rose. I've never been with a woman before."

"Wow," she said, leaving the word just hanging in the air.

"Yeah," I said, "'Wow'."

"So, what's the furthest you've gone, then? And how come you haven't?"

"I've had a girl's shirt off before, but that's about it. I just haven't found the right person to want to go all the way before. I've had the opportunity to go further a couple of times, but it just didn't feel right."

"So you've never had your pants off with a girl before?"

"No, never. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to try," I told her, repeating back her same words, meaningfully eyeing her, hoping she'd pick up the dual meaning there, "And you're kind of avoiding your own answer to the question - aren't you?"

Rose laughed lightly, "Yeah, I sort of am. I was actually twenty, but I'd just graduated high school. My ex-boyfriend Jesse invited me over to a start-of-year party at his college dorm room and when I got there, it was just the two of us. It was all over kind of fast before I really realized it had happened. Jesse and I ... well, it wasn't the best relationship, but we went out for a couple of years after that. We've been broken up for almost three years. Since him, I haven't been with anyone else."

"So, how do we choose the next question?" I asked, trying to break the tension.

"What's the oven temp?" she asked.

I looked over at the digital display and said, "Two-nineteen."

"Sounds like a good question number," Rose said.

"Why don't you read this one?" I asked, "Mama's directions say I can toss the bread in anytime after the temperature reaches two hundred."

Rose turned to the new page and asked, "Have you ever loved someone you didn't respect? If so, did it make you respect yourself any less?"

"I don't think I've ever been in love before," I told her, silently appending 'before you' to that, "but I loved my father for a very long time and I don't respect him. He used to be pretty abusive to my mom and my sisters. It definitely made me feel like there was something wrong with me or that I might be a bad person to love him and want his love when I knew how much he was hurting people."

"I'm so sorry, Dimitri. I can't imagine what that must've been like," Rose said.

"They weren't married when my sisters and I were born. We lived in Russia then. My mother thought she loved him and tried to make it work when I was eight. She finally stood up for herself when I was twelve and left him. Randall knows better than to hurt any of us anymore. And I know better than to think I love him now."

"That's really brave of you to have gone through that," she told me, "So why do you keep visiting his house if you don't really like him?"

"It was part of my parents' divorce proceedings," I told her, "He agreed to pay for each of my sisters and I to go through private school and college as long as the four of us all came to visit him each weekend. Until each of us turned eighteen, it was court-mandated that we visit him, but afterwards, it just seemed to make sense to let him pay. It's not like he really spends time with me when I come over, anyways. What about you, Rose? Have you ever loved someone you didn't respect?"

"I thought I was in love with Jesse. That's why I stayed with him for two years. He was always telling me things that made me feel completely worthless. I didn't even know he was cheating on me the whole time, either. I drew the line when I caught him ramming my roommate Natalie up against the headboard in my bed, though. I'm glad to be away from him."

"I'm glad you're out, too, Rose. I don't like it when guys think that they can treat women like that. Selfishly, though, I'm glad you're away from him because that means you're free to see other people, too."

Rose grinned at me. "Thanks, Dimitri. I'm starting to be pretty glad I'm free to see other people, too."

"Which question now?" I asked.

"What time is it?" she replied, answering a question with a question.

"Eight thirty-five," I said, looking at the clock on the microwave.

"So, thirty-five, it is," she said, tossing me the book.

I smiled when I saw the question. "If you learned that a fifty-year-old woman was engaged to a man of twenty-one, what would your first reaction be? How would you feel differently if the ages were reversed?"

"I like this question, Comrade. I guess it'd be a little scandalous, but I think age is really all just relative, so I don't think it really matters. I guess I'd honestly just think, 'good for her'. There's actually a ten year age difference between my parents - and I don't know if Christian mentioned it, but Lissa and I met him when he was teaching our class. Lissa kept staying after and going to his office for little 'study sessions' until I started to get really suspicious. They kept it all very hush-hush until we weren't in his class anymore, but they're eight years apart. I think that you love who you love and the important thing is what you feel. Unless - of course - it's illegal or something. Not that I'd want my forty-five-year-old mom or my fifty-five-year-old dad dating someone my age, either, though. What about you, Comrade?"

I laughed and then joked, "Are you asking me if I want to date your mom? Because I'd much rather date you."

Rose grinned, "How would you feel about the thirty-year age difference?"

"It's a big gap," I said, "but I think that when you know you love someone, you just know."

"Yes, you do," Rose said, looking into my eyes. God help me, I love this woman!

She tossed me the book, saying, "Wanna go with thirty-six?"

I opened it up and asked, "Would you rather have a strikingly attractive partner who was disappointing in bed or a plain-looking one who was fantastic in bed?"

"That's a tough one. I guess I don't really think it matters if the person is good or if he is attractive, as long as we cared about each other. Looks or skills in bed are all really just a bonus if you've got that. If I had to choose one, though, I'd probably pick the one who is plain-looking and good in bed."

"You know that I might not be any good, since I've never done it before," I told her, honestly.

"Is that really what you think, Comrade?" she asked, "I hope that's not what's holding you back with me."

"It might be part of it," I told her, "But it's not the only thing."

"At least you're concerned with how you'll do," she said, "The things I might like in bed are all very teachable. Besides, if your kissing is any indication, you've already got the upper hand over my ex. So what about you? Amazing-looking and bad in bed, or plain-looking and amazing in bed?"

I picked up my forgotten glass of wine and downed it in one big swig, drinking in the liquid courage. "Well, I've never wanted anyone like I want you and you look amazing," I told her, "I don't think it's fair to expect that you're completely perfect."

Rose smiled, yanking the book out of my hands. "So, what else is holding you back with me?" she asked.

Christian's words echoed in my mind. She's not ready for that. "I just want to be sure it's right," I told her, "I know it's probably too soon to say something like this, but Ivan knew what he was talking about in his note when he said that I care about you, Roza. I've never met a woman like you before. I don't want to screw this up by having sex too soon. Especially since it's my first time."

"You're just too good to be true; aren't you, Dimitri?" She looked into my eyes. "What are you hiding, Mr. Belikov?"

"Evidently, not much," I told her, recalling how she had known about my erection earlier, "but I'm sure that everyone's entitled to a few secrets."

Rose grinned as she pulled me in for another kiss.

--=o0/&\0o=--

Author's Notes:

Well, this turned into a really long chapter, which was NOT my intention at all when I started writing it. I think this chapter is about twice as long as every other chapter in this story so far, but it was just difficult to find a good stopping point and I was really hoping to get through their entire date - which did NOT happen, either.

What'd you think of the questions? Are there any you'd like to answer yourself? Did any of them really strike you? Do you think I got their answers 'right' for the characters?

For reference,the book is "The Book of Questions: Love & Sex" by Gregory Stock, Ph.D. For those of you who have a partner who's willing to answer the questions, I would really recommend it. This book can really help to increase your emotional intimacy as a couple and spark some really frank conversations. I took some liberties with a few of the questions' wording, and omitted a few follow-up questions but the numbers and the general meaning of the questions are accurate.