She was still standing there when Deke—he assumed it was Deke since she’d called the other guy Brian—came strolling down the hallway. He held out his hand. Alexei took it.
“Deke Mitchell. Graduated BUD/S in 1975. Served twenty-two years.”
“Thanks for your service.”
“Thanks for yours, Alexei.”
“Call me Alex.”
Deke nodded. “You taking care of this girl?”
“Yes.”
“She hire you?”
“It’s complicated. But I’m not going to let anyone hurt her.”
Deke nodded. He was a SEAL. He got it. “That’s my goal too. I watch out for these girls, and I don’t let anyone abuse them. I can still kick ass pretty good for an old guy.”
Alexei didn’t doubt that was true. Being a SEAL meant something no matter when you graduated BUD/S. “I’m looking for the guy who harassed her the other night. He might have something to do with the disappearance of her sister.”
Deke’s gaze swung to Bailey. “Your sister go missing? You didn’t mention that.”
“I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Of course I’m interested. You said she left the baby with you for a few days—that’s not true?”
“No. She left the baby. Period.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought.” Bailey held out her hand and Alexei handed her the gym bag. “I have to get ready, if you two don’t mind. You can continue the reunion without me.”
She disappeared inside the dressing room, shutting the door behind her. Deke lifted an eyebrow. “You tapping that?”
Alexei liked the old guy, but the question irritated him. Probably because he wasn’t but he wanted to. “Not sure that’s any of your business, Deke.”
Deke snorted. “Nope, sure isn’t. But I’m old. I can dream.”
“Well, dream about somebody else. She’s got enough on her plate.”
“All right, sailor. I got a club to run. Make sure you don’t shoot anybody on my premises, got it?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Atta boy.”
A blinking light on the ceiling caught Alexei’s eye as Deke turned away. “You got cameras in this joint?”
Deke turned back, nodding. “Of course.”
“Think I could get a look at that guy from the other night?”
Deke studied him for a second. “I’ll get my guy to review the footage. See what we can find. If we got a good shot, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
Deke nodded. “See you around, kid.”
Alexei took out his phone and called Blade. He trusted that Deke would tell him if he had anything, but there was no sense waiting for the old man if Alexei’s team could hack the system and get the information sooner.
If they were lucky, they’d have an ID on the guy before the night was over. Assuming he didn’t show up first…
Chapter 11
“Holy mother of God, Honey—where did you find that guy?”
Bailey turned from the mirror to look at Cherry, who’d just walked into the dressing room. She had her red hair piled on her head and she wore a maxi dress and sandals. She was pretty, petite, and Bailey felt an uncharacteristic twinge of jealousy at the thought she’d been outside this room talking to Alexei. Because how else would Cherry know that Alexei was here with her?
“Giant. They stock them on aisle six,” she deadpanned, naming the popular grocery chain in the area.
“Har-dee-har.” Cherry slung her bag onto the bench and reached up to untwist her hair. “I could use one of those. Maybe even that one when you get tired of him. There’s just something… delicious about him.”
Delicious? Yeah, that was the word. Definitely the word. Tall, dark, handsome—and Cherry had no idea the man was tender with babies. Holy ovary explosion, that would be nirvana to the girl. She already had three kids with three different guys. What was another one—or maybe two, considering Alexei’s magic sperm?
“He’s a friend. And he’s helping me out.”
“I hope he’s helping you find your G-spot. Because whoa, he looks like he’d be fun to take for a spin.”
The other girls worked on makeup and hair, not paying much attention to the two of them. Though they’d definitely notice Alexei when they left the room.
And he’d notice them. That fact wasn’t lost on Bailey. Especially when she considered that he had to go into the club and watch for the man who’d threatened her. He’d be out there for all the shows. Maybe he’d see something he liked. Something he wanted to take home.
Bailey frowned. She couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t her business and it didn’t matter. Besides, even if he did see someone he wanted to take home, he wouldn’t right now. She and Ana were there. But what if he did?
No. He wouldn’t.
“I’m not taking him for a spin, Cherry. He might be the father of my sister’s kid, so no, not going there.”
“Wow, really? Lucky sister.”
Bailey started to tell her no, not so lucky since Kayla was missing and Alex hadn’t even known Ana existed until a few days ago. But that wasn’t Cherry’s business, and Bailey didn’t owe anyone an explanation.
“I said might. Might not too.”
“Well if he’s not, you need to get him naked and ride that cock until you can’t walk. That’s what I’d do.”
“You’d ride any stiff cock pointed in your general direction,” one of the other girls said as she painted on her lipstick.
Cherry laughed. “When it’s attached to something fine to look at, you bet I would. I like cock—but not so much I’ll fuck any guy with a stiff one. I got standards, girlfriend.”
“Yeah,” another girl muttered behind Bailey’s back. “If he’s breathing, that’s good enough for Cherry.”
Bailey stifled a laugh. Cherry glared, though she hadn’t heard what was said. “Mind your own business, Delilah,” she told the other woman.
“I am minding it,” Delilah said as she sat down and started to brush glitter powder over her shoulders and face.
Bailey adjusted her leather miniskirt and tapped the whip against her thigh. Her heart thumped just a little bit harder tonight, and she didn’t know if it was because of the guy or because of Alexei. Probably both. If the guy was here, he didn’t scare her because she had Alexei. But what Alexei might possibly do worried her more than a little bit.
She took her phone out of her bag and checked for messages. There was nothing from Kayla. She sent another text anyway, because she was worried, and then scrolled through email. Nothing there either.
On a whim, she sent a text to Alexei. Behaving yourself out there?
His reply was swift. Always.
Any sign of the creep?
Lots of creeps out here. But none that fit the description you gave.
Bailey snorted. Alexei was funny even when he wasn’t trying to be. You in the audience or waiting outside the dressing room?
Outside the dressing room. Not letting you head for the stage without me.
All righty. Be out soon.
In fact, there was no reason to wait. She could go and stand offstage and watch Tracey bump and grind through her routine. Bailey often watched the other girls, looking for techniques.
“Break a leg, Honey,” Cherry said as she headed for the door. “And then jump that man’s bones.”
Bailey laughed. “Thanks. And we’ll see.”
Not that she had any plans to jump Alexei, but a girl could certainly dream about it.
She opened the door and stepped into the hall. Alexei leaned against the wall, one foot propped on the bench, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when she appeared—and if she hadn’t been watching him, she’d have never believed the way his green eyes darkened or the way his entire body seemed to go utterly still.
She grinned at him, more than a little self-conscious about the skintight leather and the very little she
wore beneath it.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he said. “That ought to be illegal.”
“What?” She tapped the whip against her thigh-high boot. “Tight clothing and whips? Tsk-tsk, Alexei. I had no idea you were a prude.”
“Prude? Hardly. But that outfit— Christ, it’s giving me ideas I’d rather not have right now.”
“Never been to a strip club, big boy?”
He smirked. “Of course I have. I’ve just never seen you in a strip club before.”
Oh yeah, her heart was thumping now. Almost in time to the music coming from the club. “Then prepare for a great show, Kamarov. I’m gonna knock your socks off.”
His gaze skimmed down her body. Up again. His eyes, when they met hers, were smoking hot. “You already do, baby doll.”
“Flirting, Alexei?”
“Flirting? This is a full-court press come-on, Bailey.”
She told herself not to do it, but she closed the distance between them anyway. Pressed her leather-clad body against his torso. Practically moaned at the heat and hardness of him.
What are you doing, Bailey? Red alert!
She put her hands on his chest, slid them up to his shoulders, the whip still in one palm. She put the whip behind his neck, grasped both ends, and dragged his head down to hers. His mouth was a whisper away when she stopped. They stared at each other for a long moment. She closed her eyes, tilted her head, felt him relax the tiniest bit as he anticipated the kiss. She waited another second until she thought he would have closed his eyes.
That was the moment she let go of the whip with one hand and pushed him away as she ducked aside. His eyes popped open as he stepped back.
He looked shocked for a second. And then he laughed. “Glad you aren’t a Special Operator.”
“A what?”
“Another name for SEALs and other military Special Forces. Means that I’m glad this isn’t combat and you aren’t the enemy. I think I’d be dead right now if you were.” His voice dropped to a low growl. “Though what a way to go.”
A thrill shot through her.
“Hey, you ready to go, Honey?” It was Jenny, the stage manager, peering down the hall at the two of them.
“I’m ready.” She glanced at Alexei. “Any instructions?”
He shook his head slowly, his gaze burning into hers. “None that I’m willing to share right now. Just go out there and do your thing. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Chapter 12
The girl was smoking. Not that Alexei didn’t already find her attractive, but when she’d walked out of that dressing room in head-to-toe leather, her cleavage on magnificent display, thigh-high boots taking his eye up to the barely there miniskirt, he’d wanted to toss her over his shoulder and abduct her before anyone else got a good look at her.
When she’d pressed her body to his, his breath had stopped for the space of a heartbeat. And yeah, he’d expected the kiss. She’d prepped him for it, focused his attention on nothing but her, her mouth moving closer, her cherry-red lips a whisper away. And then she’d punked him. Moved out of his grasp before the kiss ever came.
She’d left him standing there with a throbbing cock and a powerful urge to snatch her back and complete what she’d started. Not that he would have done it, but he’d wanted to.
Alexei watched her ass sway as she strode away from him. It took him a solid minute to collect himself and head for the door that would take him into the club. He found a good spot near the front, at the edge of the stage, and settled in to wait. He didn’t sit. Instead, he stood and let his gaze rove over the crowd. It wasn’t a huge crowd, but it also wasn’t a weekend. Still, there were a good number of men sitting at tables and drinking beer, or harder stuff, hooting and hollering at the woman on stage as she pranced up and down and then stooped to let them put dollar bills in her G-string.
One of the guys tried to cop a feel, and the woman playfully smacked him. A bouncer came forward and pushed the guy back as the woman rose and continued her strut as she collected all the money waiting for her. The bouncer bent close to the guy who’d tried to feel her up. Alexei could tell by the body language what was going on—and it seemed to be working because the customer looked more than a little intimidated.
Alexei forced himself to study the other men in the club. None fit the description of the guy Bailey had told him about, and none looked like the guy he remembered seeing at Buddy’s a few months ago.
“Gentlemen, another round of applause for the lovely Tracey Del Mar!” The emcee leaned forward into the mic as Tracey departed the stage. “Are you ready for Honey Payne, our beautiful dominatrix?”
Honey Payne?
The cheering intensified. The lights went down. The heavy pumping beat of a song Alexei didn’t recognize boomed into the darkness. And then a spotlight shone down on the figure that appeared on the stage.
Her head was turned to the side, her lavender locks curtaining her face, her bejeweled hat sparkling. She had a fist up to her chin. Her other hand held the whip that hung at her side. The music reached a crescendo—and Bailey sprang into action.
She strode down the center stage like a model on a catwalk, all graceful limbs and exaggerated movements. And then she stopped and began to gyrate her hips, grabbing the pole and twisting around it, her hair flying, the whip’s jeweled handle blazing like it had been set on fire.
Holy fuck. Alexei was mesmerized. He had to force himself to look at the crowd, to see if anyone was paying more attention to Bailey than they should or if the man he was watching for had arrived. But Bailey was his focus whenever he turned to the stage again. She was beautiful, her dance seductive and hotter than fuck. She used the whip as a prop, sliding it between her breasts, between her legs. Humping the damned thing. Making his balls ache harder than they’d ever ached before.
When she began to peel off her jacket, his breath stopped. She worked the damn thing, slowly revealing gleaming skin until she finally let the garment fall completely away before tossing it behind her. He swallowed hard, thanking God for the sparkly bra she wore beneath it. If she’d bared her tits, he didn’t know how he’d have tolerated these hooting assholes ogling her.
And they did hoot. They whistled and catcalled and said suggestive things, though not enough to get them kicked off the premises.
“Come down here and suck it, baby!” a man yelled.
“Sit on my face!” another screamed.
Alexei dragged in measured breaths. He knew how to be calm, how to slow his heart rate. He did it as a sniper all the time. He was as cool as motherfucking ice out there in the field.
He was cool now. Or he was trying to be. Because inside? Holy hell, right now, he was boiling like a fucking volcano. His dick was hot and hard and his anger was high. But he’d get through it, because that’s what he did.
The dance went on for much longer than he wanted. Torturing him. Teasing him far more than his imagination had done the past couple of nights.
Bailey strutted and gyrated. The miniskirt went flying with one tug of the Velcro, revealing a glittering G-string that left nothing to the imagination when she turned and shook her ass. She had a tattoo on one cheek, but he couldn’t tell what it was because she whirled again.
By the time she unhooked her bra and teased the audience with glimpses of flesh, Alexei was so fucking pissed he didn’t know how he was going to contain it much longer. What he didn’t quite get was why. Bailey wasn’t his girlfriend, or even someone he’d known for years. He had no claim on her.
But watching her graceful body gyrate, knowing how hard she worked and why she did it, spending time with her over the past two days—well, he wanted her. Badly. Even though he knew he shouldn’t. Even though it would be a disaster because Bailey had commitment written all over her face and Alexei didn’t do commitment. Didn’t want it.
The bra went sailing behind her, landing on the stage, and Alexei had to physically restrain himself from going up there and covering her body as the screaming i
n the audience reached a fever pitch.
And why wouldn’t it? Her tits were gorgeous. Full, firm, with pink nipples that stood up straight and proud. They tilted up slightly. He wanted to fill his hands with them, and then he wanted to suck and nibble those tight peaks until she couldn’t take anymore before finally slipping his cock inside her and taking them both to nirvana.
Hell, every man in this room wanted the same thing. He could see it in their faces. Hear it in their whistles.
Bailey strutted up and down the stage, the same as the girl before her had done. She stooped to let men put money in her G-string while Alexei gritted his teeth. She cupped a few cheeks, smacked a few arms and asses with her crop, reached into a few belts when directed. Alexei growled. What the fuck was Deke Mitchell thinking to allow that?
The grabby guy from earlier put money in her G-string, but his hands stayed to himself. It probably helped that Bailey had the whip, which she used to great effect whenever one of the guys seemed a little too pushy. Still, Alexei watched them all like a hawk, ready to pounce if one of them so much as put a frown on her face. He skimmed his gaze over the room again, noted nothing new before going back to Bailey.
But then it happened. Bailey had stood and turned toward another group when one of the guys—not the grabby one from earlier, but one of his friends—wrapped a hand around her ankle, sliding his other hand up her calf and heading for her inner thigh. Bailey swatted at him, but he ducked away from the blow. She said something to him, her expression angry.
Alexei didn’t remember crossing the room. But he was suddenly there, grabbing the guy’s arm, wrenching him backward and twisting until something popped. The dude dropped, screeching. One of his buddies aimed a punch at Alexei’s head.
It didn’t go well. Alexei caught the fist and redirected it, then took down the next two men who threw themselves at him. Another man launched himself, and Alexei felled him with a blow to the head. He heard shouting, but he didn’t heed it. Two other men swarmed in, but before he put them on the ground he realized they were the club bouncers and he stepped back, letting them take over. They mopped up what he’d started, grabbing the men by their shirts or arms and shoving them toward the door.
HOT SEAL Redemption Page 9