by Renee Rose
Famous last words.
Oh God, no. She couldn’t think that. Jake would show up with the money any minute now. And hopefully he would never do business with these men again.
Somehow she made it through her set, but with the Russian and his Italian heavies staring her down, she’d lost her mojo completely. Not that anyone on the dance floor noticed.
The DJ who gave her an hour’s break between sets came into the booth and she pulled off the headphones and put her records back into her plastic crate, taking it with her, since she didn’t trust other DJs not to steal them. She went straight from the booth through the door that led behind the bar, annoying all the bartenders as she lifted her crate high to get past them. Though she didn’t look, she sensed the Russian trailing her along the other side of the bar. She kept moving, into the storeroom, where she shoved her records into a locking cupboard and grabbed her purse. From there, she went out the far door and around the corner to the women’s restroom, just as the Russian pushed through the crowd to catch up with her. Inside, she leaned against the wall and attempted to slow her heart rate.
She checked her phone. No response from Jake.
Damn him.
She needed to get out of the club.
A scantily-dressed, leggy brunette stood at the mirror, primping. Lucy fished a twenty dollar bill out of her purse. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you kiss the sexy Russian standing outside this door.”
The woman grinned, snatching up the money before Lucy had even finished talking. “What’s he look like?”
“Blond. Built like a fighter. Tattoos everywhere.” Yuri’s black ink extended up his neck, down his forearms, and across his knuckles.
Her smile grew wider. “Okay.” With a flounce, she whirled on her high heels and clicked out.
Lucy followed close behind, slipping past as the brunette wrapped her arms around Yuri’s neck and tried to slip him the tongue.
Lucy ducked down, crawling under cocktail tables toward the emergency exit in the back, praying he didn’t see her.
Over the music, she thought she heard the sound of a smack and squeal, and hoped the Russian hadn’t hurt the woman.
The club was packed and the music pumping. No one even noticed her crawling under their tables. Or, if they did, no one reacted quickly enough to say anything. She emerged at the end of the line of high-tops, just feet from the back door. The alarm would go off if she went out of it, but the bouncer was there and he could disable it.
She made a mad dash for him, but a strong arm caught her around the waist and dragged her back against six feet of solid muscle. Fear coiled with something else—dark interest in the man who’d captured her.
It’s like the captivation she had with villains and anti-heroes. She was the type who always rooted for them to get their day.
The bouncer started toward them, but then recognized Yuri and paled. He shot her a “what should I do?” look.
Not wanting to get him killed, she averted her eyes.
Yuri wrapped one hand around her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but used it to pull her head back against his chest, the threat of asphyxiation obvious and clear. “Little DJ,” he spoke directly in her ear, his thick accent so much sexier that way, “I would love to let you sneak out the back door, except for two things.”
She cursed the trembling in her limbs, which she was certain he felt. To make it worse, his hand at her waist started to roam, slipping inside her tank top and skimming across her belly. It sent ripples of heat and tremors cascading down her inner thighs. “Wh-what things?” she managed to breathe.
His warm palm coasted over her skin, up to one breast, which he squeezed through her bra. Back down to the waistband of her jean skirt, where he insinuated his fingers. “One. Nobody gives me the slip, so the boys would know I let you go.” His lips pressed against her ear so it seemed like he spoke right into her very cells. His fingers wriggled deeper into her skirt, making her clit come alive with the nearness. “And two, I can’t let another one of Don Diego’s thugs pick you up instead of me. Then I couldn’t protect you.”
She wrestled with her breath, trying to even it out, slow it down before she hyperventilated. “P-protect me?”
He couldn’t wedge his fingers any further into her skirt so he settled for grasping the top of her panties and pulling up, tugging them into the seam of her sex, the fabric threading over her pulsing nub. “Yes. Come with me now. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you. You have my word.”
A shiver ran through her, but it wasn’t of fear. There was a solemnity to the oath he uttered that made goosebumps stand out on her arms. She’d long suspected the Russian had a thing for her and this seemed to confirm it.
He gave one last tug of her panties and eased his hold on her, turning her around to face him. “Come.” He took her hand and led her toward the back door, nodding at the bouncer before he shoved the door open.
The bouncer flicked off the alarm. “Good night, guys.”
Really, dude? Not that she wanted him to get killed trying to stop them, but good night, guys when she was being led out by Yuri the Fury? Well, she supposed the way Yuri was holding her hand made it look like they’d hooked up and were on their way to screw like horn dogs, rather than… well, she didn’t know where they were going, but she sure as hell hoped it didn’t involve a pair of pliers and her fingernails being ripped off.
I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.
Beautiful, dark Russian.
He’d once seen a guy squeeze her breast in the club. It had been some drunk stranger, acting like an asshole. She’d batted the guy’s hand away, about to tell him to keep his nasty paws to himself, when suddenly the guy levitated, a set of tattooed knuckles wrapped around his throat.
“Apologize,” the Russian, who had appeared out of nowhere, had snarled in his thick accent.
The guy hung in the air, kicking and choking, too stupid or drunk to even understand what had happened. He turned blue in the face as the Russian shook him. “I said, apologize.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the guy had choked and Yuri had dropped him, glowering and cracking his knuckles as the guy literally bolted like a rabbit straight out of the club.
She’d turned to Yuri and met his dangerous, ice blue gaze. She’d cocked a hip. “That wasn’t necessary.” There were six bouncers she could have called for help—if she thought she’d needed it, which she hadn’t.
His resting face always appeared angry, but now it screwed up with fury. “Yes it was,” he growled. “You did not like him touching you.”
She’d swallowed, fighting against the swoon those words produced. She didn’t need a Russian mobster with serious anger management issues taking an interest in her protection, no matter how sexy she found him. “What do you care, anyway?”
For the first time, that intense gaze of his faltered. He looked away, fists still clenching. “I don’t know.” He spoke through tight lips, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Her belly had fluttered, a wash of warm tingles sweeping over her. Did Yuri the Fury have a reluctant crush on her? She’d thought it so highly unlikely it was laughable. No one had a crush on her. Guys wanted to fuck her, sure. Only because she looked fun and available. But no one cared about getting to know her. No one sat at their table drinking iced vodka staring at her for hours on end while she played.
Except Yuri.
So, as he led her through the parking lot like they were on a date, one part of her fear fluttered in a direction that almost resembled excitement.
Until she saw the other two goons stalking toward them from separate directions, all converging on a shiny black Mercedes.
Christ, she was being kidnapped by the mafia! She attempted to wrench her hand free from Yuri’s, turning to bolt back toward the club, but in just a half-second, he had her up off her feet, one strong arm around her waist.
“Don’t fight me,” he ground out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah, ri
ght.” She struggled for all she was worth. She parted her lips to scream, but he anticipated her move and clapped one hand over her mouth, carrying her quickly the rest of the way to the Mercedes.
One of the guys opened the back door and Yuri forced her through, keeping a tight hold of her wrist as he climbed in beside her. A guy sandwiched her from the other side. “We’re in.”
The car lunged forward with a screech, tearing out of the parking lot and making Lucy shriek. Her breath came in audible pants, almost cries.
“Where are you taking me?” She cursed her voice for sounding so high.
“We’re holding you until your brother delivers the money he owes,” Yuri said. “Be good and no harm will come to you. I promise.”
Be good.
Now there were conditions attached to her safety. So much for his vow. She should’ve known not to trust a tattooed Russian mobster. Who does that, anyway?
Holy mother of God, what was going to happen to her? To Jake? This was right out of a movie, and she knew how every movie ended—with people either dead, or in the hospital. An angry tear worked its way out of the inside corner of one eye. She clamped her teeth together, willing the rest of them back.
But the Russian saw.
Alarm flashed across his face, followed by anger. His hands curled into fists on his lap and he looked away from her, out the window. “Stop. Crying,” he grated through clenched teeth.
His tone was angry, but what would he be angry about? Shouldn’t asshole mobsters be happy when they’ve scared a girl to tears?
“Fuck you,” she shot back.
He gave her a quick sidelong glance, then looked back out the window. “That’s good,” he muttered, more to himself than her.
About Renee Rose
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE loves a dominant, dirty-talking alpha hero! She's sold over a half million copies of steamy romance with varying levels of kink. Her books have been featured in USA Today's Happily Ever After and Popsugar. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won Spunky and Sassy's Favorite Sci-Fi and Anthology author, The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews' Best Sci-fi, Paranormal, Historical, Erotic, Ageplay and favorite couple and author. She's hit the USA Today list five times with various anthologies.
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Other Titles by Renee Rose
Vegas Underground Mafia Romance
King of Diamonds
Mafia Daddy
Jack of Spades
Ace of Hearts
Joker’s Wild
His Queen of Clubs
Dead Man’s Hand
Wild Card
More Mafia Romance
The Russian
The Don’s Daughter
Mob Mistress
The Bossman
Contemporary
Daddy Rules Series
Fire Daddy
Hollywood Daddy
Stepbrother Daddy
Master Me Series
Her Royal Master
Her Russian Master
Her Marine Master
Yes, Doctor
Double Doms Series
Theirs to Punish
Theirs to Protect
Holiday Feel-Good
Scoring with Santa
Saved
Other Contemporary
Black Light: Valentine Roulette
Black Light: Roulette Redux
Black Light: Celebrity Roulette
Black Light: Roulette War
Punishing Portia (written as Darling Adams)
The Professor’s Girl
Safe in his Arms
Paranormal
Wolf Ridge High Series
Alpha Bully
Alpha Knight
Bad Boy Alphas Series
Alpha’s Temptation
Alpha’s Danger
Alpha’s Prize
Alpha’s Challenge
Alpha’s Obsession
Alpha’s War
Alpha’s Mission
Alpha’s Sun
Shifter Fight Club
Alpha’s Desire
Alpha’s Bane
Alpha’s Secret
Alpha’s Prey
Midnight Doms
Alpha’s Blood
Alpha Doms Series
The Alpha’s Hunger
The Alpha’s Promise
The Alpha’s Punishment
Other Paranormal
The Winter Storm: An Ever After Chronicle
Sci-Fi
Zandian Masters Series
His Human Slave
His Human Prisoner
Training His Human
His Human Rebel
His Human Vessel
His Mate and Master
Zandian Pet
Their Zandian Mate
His Human Possession
Zandian Brides
Night of the Zandians
Bought by the Zandians
Mastered by the Zandians
Zandian Lights
Kept by the Zandian
Claimed by the Zandian
Other Sci-Fi
The Hand of Vengeance
Her Alien Masters
Regency
The Darlington Incident
Humbled
The Reddington Scandal
The Westerfield Affair
Pleasing the Colonel
Western
His Little Lapis
The Devil of Whiskey Row
The Outlaw’s Bride
Medieval
Mercenary
Medieval Discipline
Lords and Ladies
The Knight’s Prisoner
Betrothed
Held for Ransom
The Knight’s Seduction
The Conquered Brides (5 book box set)
Renaissance
Renaissance Discipline