Undercover with a SEAL. Cindy Dees

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Название Undercover with a SEAL
Автор произведения Cindy Dees
Жанр Исторические любовные романы
Серия Code: Warrior SEALs
Издательство Исторические любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474031394



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      “Maybe a real man hasn’t offered to do the job right,” Ashe replied drily in the same language.

      It was all she could do not to stick her tongue out at him. To date, Vitaly thought she understood only a few words of the simplest Russian, and she needed to keep it that way. She’d been able to eavesdrop on countless conversations between him and his associates because of it.

      “You think you’re man enough?” Vitaly hooted. “I’ll give you a bottle of this vodka on the house if you convince her to do it. Make a lap dancer of her if you can. I’ll earn a fortune on her in the lap dance lounge if I can get her back there. Get a load of those legs. And just feel this ass...”

      Ashe glanced up at her for just a moment, his eyes mirroring regret for just an instant. But it was enough for her to know he was not enjoying this any more than she was. “Come over here,” he drawled in English. “Vitaly says you have a great ass. I want to check it out.”

      Was he kidding? Apparently not, for he stared at her expectantly. Silently livid at her boss, she stepped away from his invasive grip and moved to Ashe’s side, standing so close that her knees rubbed his thigh. “Go ahead, buddy. It’s not like you’ll ever get more than a handful of this action.”

      Vitaly hooted with laughter. He sounded more drunk than not, but she never could tell with him. He held vodka like nobody’s business.

      Ashe’s palm cupped the back of her knee, sliding up the back of her thigh with maddening slowness. With light pressure, he pushed her leg until she took a step to the side, turning so her back was to the room. What? He didn’t want the other patrons to see him checking out her posterior regions? If the man weren’t feeling her up, she might actually think his action was chivalrous. But as it was, his hand headed inexorably toward her rear end.

      His fingertips traced the seam of her stockings up under her miniskirt, up to the swell of her backside, paused, and then continued higher until her entire cheek was cupped in his big, warm hand. Her glute muscles clenched involuntarily.

      His hand kneaded her gently and he murmured cajolingly, “Relax, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

      No, but he was embarrassing her to death. It was one thing to have random drunk strangers grab her as she passed by them. But he was no stranger, and this was no random grope. It was a full-scale invasion. His fingers dipped into the tight crevasse between her cheeks, in the same place Vitaly’s had, but where her boss’s grasp had been rough and impersonal, Ashe’s fingers were beguiling. Intent on winning her acceptance. They stroked and probed gently, asking and waiting for her to relax and give him access to her most secret places. Something hot and liquid erupted low in her belly, startling the hell out of her and momentarily distracting her long enough that she did relax her tush.

      Ashe’s hand dipped deep between her legs immediately, and she tensed up once more. But the damage was done. His hand cupped her lady parts with shocking intimacy, and any move she made would rub said parts against said hand. She froze, staring down at him in shock. It was one thing to go along with Vitaly’s misogyny for the sake of gaining the guy’s trust. It was another thing entirely to embarrass her in public. Although, truth be told, the worst of her embarrassment stemmed from the fact that she was a little turned on by Ashe’s hand cupping her like she already belonged to him.

      “Trust me, Vitaly,” he declared in Russian. “She’s no ice queen. She’s all woman. And hot for me.”

      She didn’t stop to think about it. She went with her reflex reaction and slapped Ashe’s cheek with all her might.

      Vitaly surged halfway to his feet, swearing and apologizing as words tumbled out of his mouth in a garbled jumble. But it was Ashe’s reaction that shocked her. He stared up at her in stunned disbelief for a heartbeat and then threw his head back and laughed. Heartily.

      “Sit, sit, Vitaly,” he chortled in Russian. “I like my women a little wild. It’s more fun that way to tame them.”

      Her gaze narrowed. As if he would ever tame her. Hah!

      Vitaly sank back into his chair, but he was looked genuinely angry and glared at her with a grim promise of serious retribution when Ashe left this place. So much for looking out for her best interests. Heck, for all she knew, her boss might drag her upstairs by the hair and let the clients do their worst to her. Her insides turned to jelly and her entire being quailed at the thought of what could happen to her up there. They could shoot her up with heroin until she was hooked, lock her into a room in the brothel...

      Who would come looking for her? There was no one to rescue her from the hellhole Vitaly could throw her into. She would be lost. And now that Max was gone, not a living soul would care.

      “...don’t let women slap me without punishment,” Ashe was saying in Russian. He leaned back in his chair, tossed back a shot of the expensive vodka and grinned at Vitaly. “How do you propose I do that, my friend?”

      Vitaly scowled. “I’d beat her until she couldn’t sit for a week.”

      Ashe tilted his head to one side and studied her while she defiantly glared back at him. “Nah. She’s got fair skin. She would bruise like mad. Someone would call the cops on you.”

      Vitaly jerked his chin at her. “What would you do to punish her?”

      A slow smile unfolded on Ashe’s face. “You want her to work in the lap dance lounge, yes?”

      Aghast, she stared at him. He was not actually going to throw her to the wolves like this, was he? Ashe was supposed to be one of the good guys! Worse, she wasn’t supposed to know Russian, so she couldn’t respond in any way to this little exchange between the men.

      “Yes, of course,” Vitally answered a little too eagerly. Apparently he wasn’t so drunk that he’d missed where Ashe was going with his line of reasoning, either. Dammit.

      Ashe asked in English, “How about I teach her how to do a decent lap dance?”

      It was Vitaly’s turn to throw back his head and laugh. “Done.”

      “No way—” she began.

      Vitaly surged to his feet and grabbed a fistful of her hair at the back of her neck, yanking her head violently and forcing her to endure his fetid breath in her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ashe tense. “You make my friend happy, or I will take you upstairs and put you to work up there. Understood?”

      She tried to nod, but even the smallest movement of her head caused her hair to pull painfully against his fist. He leaned in closer to growl, “Do what this man says or I’ll make you pay.”

      Terror roared through her. It was her worst nightmare. She was going to get sucked into the abyss and never escape Vitaly’s clutches. And it was all Ashe’s fault, damn him. Why, oh, why did he have to show up here and mess up everything?

      Ashe surged out of his chair, his big fist suddenly encompassing Vitaly’s at her neck. “Let the lady go.” His voice was low and cold and dripped with violence.

      Vitaly shoved her at Ashe. “Be a good girl and show the nice man how very sorry you are.”

      Ashe caught her as she half fell against him. He set her gently back on her feet and loomed close beside her, never releasing her arm just above the elbow. “Come along, naughty little girl.” His words might be what Vitaly wanted to hear, but his tone was soothing.

      Without further ado, he led her over to the lap dance lounge’s entrance. The bouncer opened it, grinning, and Ashe ushered her into what surely was a special corner of hell.

      What little lighting there was in the lounge came from red bulbs shrouded in colored scarves that hung from the ceiling and fat black candles dripping in sconces around the walls. Necklaces of bones, snakeskins, animal skulls and braids of herbs decorated the kidney-colored walls. The place reeked of incense and pot and sweat, and maybe a hint of blood. A rooster even clucked quietly in a small cage on a table off to one side of the room. More drippy candles, dried chicken feet