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faegoddessog · 7 months ago

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Woman in Red Ch 12/17

Chapter 12: Jovan and Podgorica

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ only, just discussion of sex, oh and some like kissing and a lil' submissiveness, and maybe a lil' jealousy. (I had get all 'author's craft' and put some character development and set up in there, I know... so weird. But let me say.. Chapter 13 will put you in heat.)

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

Message me or leave in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Chapter 12: Jovan and Podgorica

They are walking the next day in the city of Podgorica. Aya had seemed rushed, though she tried to play it off as excitement.

“The driver is already waiting,” she had said, while he finished breakfast, “it’s an hour away, let's get going!”

He wasn’t sure why they were driving over an hour to the big city, but heck he was always up for seeing new places.

‘What Aya wants, Aya gets,’ he had chuckled to himself as he tied his shoes.

For the capital, it’s not that big of a city. It’s also not that big of a country, Austin reasons. Aya tells the driver to drop them off the south side of the Old Ribnica River Bridge.

Austin is wary as they drive through an urban residential area, past old white plaster and stone work houses close together. They pass old crumbling walls then down a narrow alley like street with a mish mash of graffiti clearly done by rebellious teenagers on one corner and a Mosque on the other. Finally the road ends at a dirt turn around on what looks like a vacant lot. There are mounds of stacked stone just there as though no one actually cares that they are ancient ruins. Four or five dumpsters tagged with spray paint are the only witnesses of their arrival. Bits of the city can be seen through the line of trees at the far edge. This looks like a place that you might be taken to in the boot of car and not return from. Austin turns to look at Aya with concern.

“Oh come on, live a little,” she says with a wink, getting out of the car. “I’ll text when and where,” she says to the driver.

She excitedly traipses down a narrow, nearly hidden trail, lined with weeds and bits of trash. She looks completely out of place in her tailored linen trousers and off the shoulder button down. Her wedge sandals are completely not made for this. He looks at the driver who shrugs as though he’s seen her do this a hundred times. Austin hurries after her, feeling dubious.

The trail opens up almost immediately onto a paved path that was hidden by the weeds. He immediately breathes a sigh of relief as they turn a corner around what looks to be an old ruined tower and he sees the wide manicured steps leading down to an old stone footbridge. It spans a tributary only a few feet from its confluence with the mainstem below. What looks like a courtyard with what once was a fountain is on this side of the bridge, the embankment opposite is a tangle of stone walls, foliage, layered rock and hollows. It feels like a set piece from The Labyrinth, apart from the traffic and city noises.

“You had me worried there for a minute,” he says, coming up behind her.

“Have I steered you wrong yet?” she says with a wink and a smile.

Hand in hand, they cross the bridge and wind their way up the hill. They pop out on a busy street. They walk a few blocks, passing the Montenegrin National Theatre, which makes Austin perk up.

“I think they haven’t started their season yet,” she says when he asks about going, “besides, last time I was there, I ended up getting caught being naughty in the coat closet. I’m not sure I’m welcome anymore,” she giggles as they passed.

They walk the tree lined streets. They pass a few restaurants and art galleries. The architecture is pretty simple and at times brutalist, echoing its past. There are a few shops to check out, but nothing fancy. Austin is wondering what it was about here that made Aya want to come so badly.

They round the corner and find a loose crowd of people around what looks like a construction site on an empty lot. There is a mix of people in business attire, general random people, men in construction clothes and press. Austin makes to cross the street, away from the cameras. Without a word, Aya takes him by the hand and threads her way around to the leading edge of the crowd. There is a podium and a microphone and a few clean, new shovels. It seems to be some sort of ground breaking ceremony. As if on cue, a man steps up and begins a short speech.

Not speaking Montenegrin or Serbian, Austin has no idea what is being said, but Aya seems to understand at least some. Standing next to her, he can’t help but stare at her thinking of how he couldn’t resist her if she drew him into a coat closet. He starts wondering if there are any errant closets near when he hears, “Hvala Aya Glascoc!”

She hands him her purse and winks, then walks the handful of steps to the podium before he knows what is happening. She shakes the man’s hand, speaking a few words to him. They turn, smiling, to the crowd as camera shutters snap. She steps back and someone hands her a hardhat and a shovel. As though she had done it a million times, she shoves the tip into the ground and with her sandaled foot, drives the blade in, leveraging the dirt up, the crowd claps. She kisses her hand and waves. There are a few more photos and she rejoins Austin, a couple people shaking her hand on the way. Austin is just stunned, standing there holding her bag. Well, at least he knew why she needed to come to the city today.

……………

“Ok,” he says, once they are sitting down. “Confession time.”

She and Austin had slipped away, hard hat, shovel and all. She had been evasive answering his questions, telling him she was hungry and needed to eat and that she knew the perfect little place.

“Oh” she says, chin on her fist and leaning in, “what do you have to confess, is it dirty?” her eyes sparkle with mischief.

“No,” he chuckles, “what just happened?”

“Oh, this is my favorite little place, I always come here when I’m in Podgorica so they know me,” she evades with a giggly smile. She knows what he means. She just is shy of the subject.

They had walked into the adorable little cafe tucked away behind a nearby park. It was all stonework and plants and a massive vaulted skylight inside. Aya had been greeted loudly with hugs, before they were seated.

“That’s not what-” he begins.

“Aya!!!” A man, younger and handsome, walks in big strides to the table with arms wide. She jumps up and he bends his muscular form around her and plants a hefty kiss on Aya’s lips. Her hand cups his cheek in familiarity as she returns the kiss in kind. It was the kiss of someone who knew her intimately and lasted a little too long, in Austin’s opinion.

Her eyes sparkle as she leans back, speaking in the lilting mix of what sounds like Italian and Russian to his actor's ear. The man’s hands lingers around her waist, holding her tightly to him. Austin smiles tightly as he is introduced as ‘my friend Jovan’ by Aya.

“Zdravo! Nice to meeting you. I welcome all friends to Aya,” the man says in a loud voice, his English only slightly questionable. He takes his hand from Aya’s waist to extend it out to Austin, still pressing his body to hers. He shakes the man’s hand politely. He finds that he isn’t fond of the casual intimacy between the two, even when they step apart.

Aya and the dark haired man continue talking for a few minutes in a mix of Montenegrin and English, her hand lingering on the man’s arm. Austin watches the exchange trying to keep his face neutral, but twirling the ring he wore on his finger in agitation. He wishes that the table was not in the way so he could step closer to Aya and let this overly intimate man know he was more than just ‘friends to Aya’.

Fuck, but is he? More than just a fuck buddy to her? The thought tightens his chest on the way to his gut, souring in his stomach. He takes a couple breaths, trying to manage what he is feeling.

‘Calm down, you have no right to be jealous,’ he reminds himself. But he admits, it’s exactly what he’s feeling.

Jovan walks from the table to the back of the restaurant saying “I take care of you! You will not pay!”

“You know I will Jovan!” she fires back.

Austin shoots her a questioning look, pointing his thumb after the man. He doesn’t yet trust himself to speak.

“That’s Jovan, it’s his restaurant,” Aya’s grin is ear to ear. “We fight every time over whether or not I will pay. He is the reason I know any Montenegrin at all. Oh and this is his wife, Jelena, she always lets me pay!” She gets up and hugs the young woman that comes around the corner.

The second Aya says ‘his wife’, the tightness in Austin’s chest lessens. Her eyes go wide when she is introduced to Austin, who stands up and shakes her hand with a big smile.

“Wait, you are the Elvis, da?” she says in thickly accented english.

“Yes Ma’am, that was me,” he slips into the accent unknowingly as he smiles shyly and nods.

Family is called over, selfies are taken, autographs signed and the declaration that ‘you are family now!” is made.

Jovan brings out the rakija and pours a tiny glass for everyone. They toast with shouts of Živjeli! Jovan grabs the back of Austin’s head and plants a kiss on his cheek. It’s jarring, but Austin’s Fan Mode is on so he keeps his cool. It’s helpful to know that Jovan treats everyone like he wants to sleep with them.

“He’s uh,” Austin blows out a breath when they settle down, wine in hand.

“Alot, I know,” she reaches over and brushes the back of his hand soothingly, “but at least he is joyful.”

“He taught you Montenegrin, eh?” Austin asks, flipping his hand over to let her fingers dally in his palm.

“Uh huh” she sips her wine, giving him a knowing look, drawing circles with her fingertips.

“Oh really?” Austin tries to play cool, but feels the jealousy creep back in. His hand closes on hers, not exactly possessive.

“Do you really want to know?” Aya asks, squeezing his hand.

Austin blinks, “I don’t ask questions that I don’t want to know the answers to.” His hand slackens against hers.

“Jovan was one of my more enthusiastic paramours here, until he fell in love with Jelena and got married," she says matter of factly. "He taught me to speak what little Montenegrin I know and I taught him how to make a woman orgasm six ways to Sunday,” she stares into his ocean eyes, tracing the veins up his wrist.

She had been at the wedding last year and had given them an enormous amount of money, enough to purchase the comfortable home they lived in. She was pretty sure that Jelena knew that the reason she enjoyed such a satisfying marriage bed was because of her.

Austin nods, takes a breath, shivering at her touch. He laughs, looking down at her hand, feeling the weirdest conflict he’d ever felt. It was one thing to talk about exes, and another to run into them, another still to get hugs and kisses and be called ‘part of the family’. Yet how is it that she can make talking about her ex-lovers such a fucking turn on. Aya was an enigma.

“I bet you did,” his voice is breathy as his fingers do their own dance on her wrist. “Thanks for being honest about it,” he says, trying to find equilibrium.

Jovan brings out the first course, winking knowingly at Austin.

“You lucky, Aya is magic,” he says under his breath to Austin, “She teach me so good, Jelena could no refuse,” He winks conspiratorially.

Austin just nods and smiles, possessiveness welling up again.

The food is so delicious. Austin watches the interplay between Aya and Jovan drop to being casual and he starts to calm.

“Ok Aya, let me try again,” Austin says as they finish the first course, “What was all that with the ground breaking?” he goes for the direct question instead of trying to be amusing.

“Ah yes,” she dabs her mouth with the napkin, “I was a donor for the new building, part of my philanthropy. They asked me to come to the ceremony, I didn’t want to make a big deal for you.”

“Aya was THE donor,” says Jelena behind Austin. “So modest.”

Jelena refills their wine.

“What is it going to be?” asks Austin.

“It will be a hospital for your mind, like depression things,” says Jelena.

“It’s not a hospital,” Aya clarifies,” it’s going to be more like a community center. It’ll have a space for meditation and yoga and art classes. A place to do what makes you happy, plus a little coffee bar.”

Jelana looks at her with pursed lips… “and.”

“And the main part is for a non-profit clinic for emotional health.” says Aya almost sheepishly.

“Oh,” says Austin, “that’s really cool, Aya. Y’know, you CAN tell me these things. You don't have to spring them on me. I want to know about your passions, so I can support them, ” he doesn’t care that Jelena is still listening in.

Jelena's eyebrow lifts at Aya as if to say, 'this one, keep this one.'

"Sorry Austin, I'm just so used to doing my own thing," she shrugs it off.

“Yes, she helps so much. We love her,” Jelena smiles warmly at Aya. Then she is pointing a finger at Austin, “Do not fuck her up… I will not like you anymore.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he says with a smile.

“Good,” she walks away to another table.

“You know, that’s like the third or fourth time I’ve been told that,” he says to Aya, “You really have loyal friends.”

“I love my people, what can I say?” she sips her wine as though she were the reigning queen.

He silently wonders why they all seem so very protective of her. It was clear that she was special in nearly every way. She was magnetic, this he knew all too well, so it only follows that those she touches, literally and figuratively, would love her. If he wanted to be more than just another bit of fluff to her, he was going to have to reconcile these exes still caring deeply about her in his mind. He knows it won’t be the last time something like this happens.

“Why mental health?” he asks, deciding to put focus somewhere else to let his thoughts settle.

“Well,” she says tentatively, “I think it's really important for a better society. I try to help the local clinics in every town I own a place in. They really didn’t have one here so…” she shrugs. What she doesn’t say is that Montenegro has a high rate of suicide and that is actually why she even considered buying a place here.

“Hmm. How, uh, how many more places do you have?” he asks.

“Ok, since you only ask questions you want to actually know the answers to, “ she smiles at him, then begins ticking off on her fingers. “New York City, Kuala Lumpur, London and here are investments or for business so I have apartments. I have private homes in the Caribbean and near Aspen, and the Malibu house of course.” She doesn't mention her apartment in Florence.

“How often do you get to each?” he is astounded that she has so many homes.

“At least once a year,” except Florence. She’s not ready to talk about Florence.

…………………………

“How about a tub with me?” Aya says stretching onto her toes to put her arms around his neck.

She had seen Austin with Jovan, how he went a little possessive then pensive. Jovan was full-on physical touch all the time. Would she admit that part of why she drug Austin to his cafe was to see how he would handle it, maybe. She could tell that he was in his head about it now and thought maybe he needed a little simple reassurance. Besides, if he was going to get his back up every time they met someone she’d fucked, it would get old really fast.

On the way home, Aya had snuggled into him, falling asleep on his shoulder. He watched the view, mentally dissecting his feelings. Currently, he was standing by the piano, looking out over the ocean view, trying to decide if he should tell her.

“Well, you gotta get dirty first,” Austin says with a smile, not yet, he decided.

“Do I?” She returns his smile with a sideways glance.

“Yes of course, otherwise the tub won’t work,” he smirks, running a line down her jaw with this thumb.

“Well, I suppose you could fuck me more, that would surely make me dirty,” she offers with a shrug, as though it’s just an idea.

“And how exactly do you want me to fuck you more, huh? Aya?” he pulls her against his body. “Do you want me to take you up against a wall, or bend you over something? Maybe outside on the terrace again? Do you want me to lay you down and fuck you? Do you want my cock in your mouth again?“ His voice is soft but dominant. He isn’t sure where exactly all this is coming from, he only knows he wants her.

‘So much for feeling simple’, she thinks as he offers her a smorgasbord menu of sex. The same words could have been said with spite, a challenge to her motivations. Indeed she has been accused of using sex to her advantage. But really her way is just wanting sex. Instead of acusitory, his hand is gently on her jaw, turning her face up to meet his. His eyes and his tone both tell a story of dominant desire.

It is sexy as hell.

“I want…I don’t,” her mind trapped by indecision, “Yes,” she finally breathes out, “any way you want me.” She lets go of any pretense that she will have any major say in what happens for the next few hours.

“Any way *I* want,” his eyes smolder at her, “Oh, Aya, that is a dangerous thing to offer me,” he echos her words from two weeks ago, Fuck has it only been two weeks? “Hunny, I have to admit,” his fingers shake just a little as he pushes a hair back from her face, “I don't feel like being gentle tonight.” Aggressive possibilities flash in his mind.

“I meant what I said,” she locks eyes with him, returning the smolder joule for joule. “Any. Way. You. Want.” The bite on her lip and the look in her eyes erase in a flash any trepidation he has.

“Well, we are definitely going to need that soak later. I think after what I want to do to you, we will both be sore and …messy,” the word ‘messy’ melts off his lips. “Newfoundland? Right?”

“Yes Sir,” she says. This is exactly what she wants, she realizes, to not be in control.

“Oh, I like that,” he rumbles, somehow more turned on by her submission. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, only that he wanted to claim her, to have her, rule her, even if just for the night.

“Do you want me to get out some playthings?” she looks up at him through her eyelashes.

“Yes,” he growls and pulls her in for a kiss full of promises.

She pulls away and disappears into the bedroom. He opens the piano, sits and starts playing a series of cascading arpeggios. It’s his go-to warm up when he wants to play, plus it sounds impressive and satisfying. He is the picture of a patient man with nothing to do but tickle the ivories, inside he is all nerves though. They’ve not talked about any sort of sub/dom stuff yet. Honestly he figured if they did, he’d be the one kneeling at her feet, not the other way around. Not that he’s not played like this, he has ideas. It’s just that he doesn’t know what she’s ok with or what ‘playthings’ she’s going to bring. Fuck, as long as she is taking, it could be an entire orgy army she is assembling in there though a secret tunnel.

Aya spends a few minutes digging deep into the back of her closet to find what she is looking for. Her hands shake in excitement as she pulls the box out. She has one similar to this in every house she owns. She can’t remember if she’s used everything in this one or not. She hears him playing her piano and smiles. She has no idea what he’ll be up for as she glances inside. She kicks herself for not bringing it up sooner. But hey, no time like the present. As she turns to leave, she sees something strappy and black peeking out from behind a boho dress. Perfect!

When Aya comes back from the bedroom after freshening up, she is carrying an ornately carved lidded box and wearing a bra and panty set that look to be more like elaborate crisscrosses of black elastic than actual lingerie. It frames her snake tattoo nearly perfectly as well as her naked nipples. Her hair flows down her back, but is held away from her face with a clip.

His eyebrow raises at her appearance and he stops mid arpeggio, the sound from the sustain pedal ringing in the body of the instrument. He decides she was worth the wait, his hard cock agrees. She comes over and presents him with the open box. With one glance, he knows what he wants to do with her.

“Oh my, so many possibilities in one little box,” his look to her is pure devilish lust, “Pet.”

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #sassy unashamed woman

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