by L. L. Ash
Seven long-stemmed roses went up to her nose and she grinned up at me with an incredibly sincere smile.
“They are so beautiful! I love them.”
“Good,” I gave her a smile back while also clasping my hands behind my back so they wouldn’t reach out for her.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to woo me, Max.”
Because I was.
“Would that be a problem, Mila?” I asked her, and she just gave me this smokey look that told me I was on the right track with her seduction.
I had to make a move before the night was over, I just wasn’t sure which move to make. At the very least, I’d be able to kiss those pouty red lips.
Instead of taking her hand once we were out of the building, I slid my arm around her waist, fingers touching against the skin on her back where her dress dipped into a deep V. I felt her tremble the moment my flesh touched hers, and I didn’t blame her. It was like touching a bare live wire, and it made every hair on my body stand up just the same.
The cab ride was uncomfortable again, but this time with sexual tension. I just wanted to reach my hand out and touch her, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off me, even though she tried. Tonight was going to be the night I made my first move. I could just feel it in the icy air.
Mila’s hand was already in mine when we pulled up to the theatre, same as last time.
“I’m so excited to see this,” Mila gushed with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to play Gilda.”
Now was my chance.
“Play Gilda?” I asked. “In an opera?”
Finally, the moment arrived where she could open up to me about the thing she was most passionate about.
This is my in.
“Oh, right. I am an opera singer.”
I slackened my jaw as if I was surprised.
“Opera?” I asked her, hoping my level of ‘intrigue’ wasn’t overblown.
Evidently it wasn’t, because she just grinned and nodded.
“We just finished with a production but now I...” Her voice caught and sadness took over her expression for just a second before she could force a smile back onto her red painted lips. “Well, I’m excited to see this one.”
Fuck...do I press? Or just let it go and bring it up strategically later?
“Have you seen Rigoletto before?” she asked brightly after a moment and I sighed, scrubbing my hand over my jaw.
Guess I bring it up later.
“Uh, no. Actually, I haven’t.”
“Then I’ll get a first,” she said with a satisfied smirk as we went to find our seats.
I hadn’t anticipated what it would feel like sitting beside her through the opera. She was leaning forward the whole time, her hand pressed to her chest as her eyes stayed glued to the performers. It was nice and all, but, despite what I'd told her, opera had never been a pastime of mine. Come to think of it, I didn’t really have a pastime. Maybe I should get one. The only thing I felt as passionately about as Mila felt about opera was finding my target and getting out clean.
When the lights went up at the end, I glanced at my watch.
The night was still young, and luckily I’d done some research on where to take her to increase the romance.
“Where are some exciting places to go at this time?” Mila asked, suddenly leaning forward in her seat, conversing with the cab driver.
“There’s a few clubs open still.” He frowned.
“Take us to your favorite,” she said, leaning back into the seat and into the crook of my arm.
She felt good there.
Change of plans, but I could make due with whatever was thrown at me. Even if it was another Hookah bar, I could turn the conversation however I wanted.
The driver pulled up to another sidewalk, dumping us out in the middle of a half residential and half commercial street, businesses lit up on the bottoms of the buildings while people slept above.
“Did he say where he was taking us?” Mila asked, looking around us.
There ahead of us and to the left was a red neon sign that said ‘Cabaret Bar’.
“I think that’s what he had in mind,” I told her, pointing.
She followed my finger and her eyes lit up.
“Are you ready for another adventure, Maxim?”
“Ready,” I agreed, slipping my hand in hers as we headed for the steps down into the bar.
Except...it wasn’t just a bar.
“It’s a strip club,” I told her as someone in front of us entered the bar, the door swinging open and then closed behind them.
It only gave me a tiny peek, but I knew a strip club when I saw one. I’d been to enough of them on recon.
“A strip club?” she asked, almost confused.
Did she not know what ‘strip’ meant in front of the world ‘club’?
A bouncer in front was dealing with the people before us for a moment, and then they entered, giving Mila that sneak peek that I’d seen. She squeezed my hand tighter, then looked up at me with sparkling eyes.
“Let’s go in,” she breathed, sounding all hot and bothered already and there weren’t even any tits on display yet.
Okaaaay…
Never one to hesitate, I pulled out my wallet and paid the cover charge as I reconsidered my plan of seduction. Maybe it was a good thing. Mila would get crazy turned on, no doubt, and I could expedite the whole seduction thing. Sure of my next action, I led her into the building where the only other women around were ones that were mostly undressed.
Mila’s eyes were wide and appraising, taking in every single thing around her as I found us a place at the bar.
She held on tight to my hand until she was seated, the bartender leaning over to ask what we wanted to drink.
“Vodka,” Mila said. “With lemon.”
I nodded over top her head to ask for the same and he went off to get the drinks.
“Are you sure this is where you want to be?” I asked her, just to make sure she was comfortable.
Mila nodded eagerly then patted the seat next hers.
“Don’t you like it?” she asked, quirking one eyebrow.
Well shit. How was I supposed to answer that without offending her?
Luckily I didn’t have to. The song changed and up stepped a dancer onto the bar.
Even though there was nothing but skin on display in front of me, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the expressions that played across her face. It was fascinating, and sexy in a way I couldn’t quite describe. Almost like a childish, innocent buzz that she was running on.
The woman on stage was beautiful. A quick glance told me that, but she couldn’t keep my attention, perky breasts and all. No, instead my eyes were glued to Mila.
She turned to me just as the woman took off her bra and wiggled on the stage.
“You’re missing it,” I told her, my attention never leaving her.
And she noticed.
It was fun watching her squirm in her seat, thighs rubbing together as she tried to deal with her arousal. Her attention turned back to the dancing woman, skirt dropped by that point as she ground against the bar in nothing but a thong.
Mila turned to me a couple more times as the woman danced, but her mouth dropped open when the dancer’s thong slid off. With everything exposed to the musky, smoky bar, I watched her turn away in shock.
The other men at the bar hollered and cheered as she spread her legs, dancing and grinding as they tipped and tipped with Rubles.
“Where’s your adventurous spirit?” I asked her, still not taking my eyes off her.
She stared at me, then turned back to the woman, her whole demeanor changed. Mila toughened up instantly with steely resolve.
The dancing woman crawled across the stage toward Mila, and I saw the opportunity present itself.
Digging some bills out of my wallet, I pressed a few into Mila's hand, which made her smile devilishly at me.
The woman took the bills one by one from Mila’s hands,
wiggling in front of her as she did, then she went on to other customers.
My feisty and innocent date looked invigorated.
“Do you—” The words caught on her tongue as she cut them off, gulping instead as she turned away.
“Do I what?” I asked, moving closer to her.
“Oh, I was just going to ask about a private dance, but I’m sure they’re expensive. I shouldn’t have spoken.”
Fingering some more bills out of my pocket, I handed them over and pressed them into her palm.
“Find the one you want.”
Mila’s eyes got wide as she nodded, then stood.
“Will you come with me?”
I didn't even have to say anything. I just nodded and stood as well, my single shot long since dropped down my throat.
We wandered around the room for a few minutes before Mila saw the woman who had danced on the bar.
“Will you dance for me?” she asked the woman.
The dancer looked from Mila to me, and then down at the cash.
“Da,” she said with a smile. “Come.”
The double entendre was lost on my date.
We went into a small private room where the woman motioned us in as she waved her fingers for the money. Mila handed it over and stared at the single chair in the room.
“You sit,” she told me, but no.
Just no.
“This is your dance,” I told her, but suddenly she didn’t look so cocksure as she had been just minutes earlier.
“Somebody sit,” the dancer said with a little smile.
I needed her turned on for my plan to work, not unsure and anxious, so I sat in the chair. But I pulled Mila with me, sitting her in my lap as the dancer stripped to her underwear again.
“What are you doing?” Mila asked with a gasp as I settled her over my thighs.
Hooking her knees over my thighs, her legs parted through the deep slits of her dress, leaving only a curtain of the sheer blue fabric between me and my goal for the evening. I leaned into the back of the chair and she followed, hers against my chest as the dancer began, moving in little waves and gyrations before she started grinding between our spread legs.
Mila’s chest was heaving, her eyes intent on the woman’s hips, glancing up to her breasts periodically.
Taking her hand, I cupped mine around hers and lifted it, stroking her fingertips against the woman’s hips as she swayed, then up to her waist as the sequin bra the dancer was wearing fell to the ground.
Mila’s breath caught as her fingers brushed over the woman’s bare breast, barely ghosting over the supple curve of it before she drew our hands down again and away. But that was when she started grinding into me.
I held back my grunt the moment she shifted her hips over my crotch, making the whole experience just a little more painful for me as the two women paid attention to each other.
Not that I wasn’t used to suffering. Pain of every sort came with my job, and I’d been trained to endure it without letting it show. So instead of focusing on my raging hard dick, I focused on Mila, drawing my fingers over her waist and down the tops of her thighs just as she started panting.
Yeah, the whole strip joint thing was a good idea. If we didn’t fuck after this, there was no chance in this world that I could seduce the woman.
Our time ran out and the woman put her clothes on and left the room, which left us with a little privacy. Mila pulled her skirt down which had ridden up from the dance, and straightened her dress as I stood up behind her, my erection pushing at the straining zipper of my pants.
She noticed that, too.
“Max… I—”
Nope. I wasn’t going to let her finish that. I couldn’t let her draw away after something like that. Pushing my panic down, I leaned forward and kissed her. And she melted into it instantly.
God, she tasted like vanilla and lemon. Nobody had a right to taste that fucking good.
My tongue traced hers and I felt her against my chest, her hands lifting to press against my chest as she kissed me back.
Now. It was my moment.
“Come back with me,” I whispered into her mouth. “Come to my room.”
She gulped but nodded again, taking another kiss before pulling away and dragging me out of the room.
The whole club fell behind us like some kind of strange, twisted dream as we hurried out, caught a cab, then headed back to the hotel.
My phone vibrated in my pocket as we got out of the cab, the drive no longer than three or four minutes. Mila held my hand and pulled me into the elevator where she continued to kiss me.
There was a short moment when I realized, just in the back of my mind, that the lines were blurring. I was supposed to seduce her. She was my target. My job. And yet, all I wanted in that moment wasn’t to accomplish the mission. No, it was to get my hands on her body and see what she tasted like.
We silently made our way to my room as my phone buzzed again, and I slid in the key as quick as I could before opening the door a couple inches and reaching in to slap my laptop closed. Couldn’t have her seeing my security camera footage or all the info I had pulled up about her and her family on my computer.
Mila practically shoved me into the room, which surprised me a little seeing as how genteel she was, before she started unzipping the back of her dress.
Right. Sex. I could do sex.
Head back in the game, I moved around to her back and helped her unzip the top of her dress before gripping the long chiffon fabric that had been haloing her all evening into my fists, yanking it up like I’d wanted to so many times since I first saw her in it.
She gasped again, helping as much as she could with fumbling hands until the top part of her dress was off.
But then...something didn’t feel right.
She kissed me again, and I responded in kind, letting lust sink into me so I could get my fucking thoughts out of my mechanical, calculating head.
Her ass sank into the mattress when her knees hit the side of the bed and I followed, knee propped on the edge as she fell onto her back on the floral bedding.
Suddenly she was panting and pushing at my chest the moment my fingers curled into the waistband of her little skirt.
“No, wait,” she gasped, covering her chest with her arms as she sat up, practically launching me back off the bed.
I backed off.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, blinking in shock. “I’m a...virgin.”
Uhh….
Nobody had fucking told me I was seducing a virgin.
“I shouldn’t be...I can’t have sex.”
Calculating… There had to be an answer.
And there was.
“Ok,” I said, pushing down my incredible urge to have her and swallowing it deep down under my unbreakable exterior.
Again, she looked surprised.
“I have to stay a virgin.”
If only she knew how conspicuous that sounded.
Yeah, I knew why she would have to stay a virgin. Her worth would be much less if she didn’t stay ‘unblemished’ to those asshole mobsters. But I could still make her come. I had to get her glued to me somehow, and it would be a good start.
“Trust me?” I asked, my fingers curling into her skirt band again.
She panted, eyes wide as she nodded hesitantly.
No penetration. At all. Got it. I could do this. It’d been years, but I was sure I could still handle it…
Fuck... there was no training in the Special Forces for this…
Chapter Seven
Mila
I should have stopped him. I shouldn’t have gone to his room to begin with, but I craved him… Everything inside my body craved the man who was hovering above me, shimmying my skirt off.
White silk panties appeared from under the clothes and I watched him gulp, then slowly turn his eyes back up to me.
We stayed there, just like that for what felt like forever as his hands framed my thighs, his hips sitting between them
as I laid on my back on top of his sheets.
“Mila...” he breathed, his black eyes glimmering as he watched me.
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There was something in those eyes that told me so much, and yet, left me so clueless about what was lurking in the depths. I wanted to trust him. I could, somewhat. I could trust him with my body, but I didn’t think that I could trust a man like him with my soul.
Pressing my hand to the side of his face, I felt the sharp grit on his cheek. Like a true man, his shaved face was already growing the shadow that I’d found so becoming on him. My fingers claimed his chin and I pulled him to me until his beautiful lips were on mine again, smoking flames of desire through every limb, centralizing on my long neglected core.
I’d been too afraid of touching myself down there because of the importance that was drilled into me as a child, and I knew that if I lost the one thing that nature gave me that Tată’s world valued, I would lose a lot more than just my virginity. My worth to any future suiter was wrapped in such a stupid and meaningless thing, but it didn’t matter. I was about to marry Kir Popov because of it. I was safe because of it. No man would touch a woman like me while she remained unspoiled. No, that was a fast way to get a bullet in the head. Women around me suffered through rape and hellish attentions while I remained unblemished. Untouched. Pleasure was a simple thing to give up for that kind of safety.
He pulled me from those thoughts with the simple brush of his tongue against mine. Gentle and searching, he met me with soft touches and a soft press of his lips on mine. And oh, it burned so good. Heat and fire and flames licked between my thighs at the apex I’d protected for so long. Still protected. It intensified with every grind and every nip of his teeth to my lips as we writhed against each other on the bed. I didn’t think it could be so good. I didn’t think a man’s hands could feel so right on my skin, and he wasn’t even inside me.
The soft wave of his hips became more emboldened as I kissed him back, meeting each stilted breath and harmless nip.
Suddenly his lips were gone, drawing down my neck as he murmured into my skin.
“I want to taste you,” he breathed.