Under Daddy's Protection

by Serafine Laveaux

  Nikki felt his tongue dip inside, lapping up the sweet juices before taking an eager trip up one silken fold and back down the other before repeating the journey. What he was doing to her was agony, sweet agony like she’d never experienced, and before she could protest, her vision went hazy and she was coming once more. A firm hand clamped hard over her mouth, stopping her frenzied howl before it broke free, but nothing was stopping the tsunami ripping through her. Vaguely she realized her upper body had jerked completely off the bench and once again her head was hanging upside down but it didn’t matter. There were shooting stars behind her eyelids and a thousand butterflies in her tummy, and Gage would never let her fall anyway, keeping her pinned into place with his tongue in her pussy and her legs wrapped around his neck.

  For a moment she thought the waves were ebbing and then he resumed his demanding torture, writing a love letter on her clit with his tongue as his hands pulled her back up on the bench. “Nooooo, no more,” she whimpered, or at least she thought she did. The only sounds she heard were the soft sucking coming from between her quaking thighs and the blood roaring in her ears. Her muscles were spent now, unable to do more than twitch and shake uncontrollably as a softer, smoother climax rippled through her, floating her away on a cloud of pleasure as she surrendered her last ounce of energy.

  When her eyes opened again she saw a blurry Gage standing over the sink washing his face. “Daddy,” she whispered weakly, unable to do more than sprawl on the narrow bench, one leg hanging off the side while the other draped over the top of the backrest.

  Gage came and sat down between her legs. Reaching back, he retrieved the wet washcloth and opened bottle of shower gel from the sink, then proceeded to bathe her exhausted pussy. No one had ever pampered her so well, first giving her three orgasms in a row and then gently washing her clean. Nikki abandoned herself to his care. “You did good, Kitten,” she heard him say from far away, too lost in his tender touch to be aware of much else.

  After he finished washing her privates he carefully patted her dry, then put her panties and pajamas on. He’d had to pick her up and position her like a rag doll to get them on. She remembered that much, although walking back to their seats was a complete blur. Completely spent and ready to sleep at last, she let Gage help her into bed and tuck her in, taking her pink poodle stuffie from him as he kissed her on the forehead. Within seconds she was sound asleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Yefim Vashchenko wasn’t a patient man. When he wanted something done, he wanted it done yesterday. He thought he had hired the best, but by some unimaginable twist of fate the first person they sent failed. Failed! It hurt his head to imagine. He was positive one of his dancers could have pulled off such an easy job. Nikki should have been dead three days ago. Instead she had vanished without a trace. He wanted to believe that meant the first mercenary had succeeded, and simply had an accident before he could call it in, but he didn’t get to where he was in life by putting faith in blind hope.

  His fat cousin, Ruslin, had already been by twice to ask if it had been handled. Having to tell him it had not had stuck in his throat like one of his wife’s dry as dirt piroshkies. Ruslin had been an annoying thorn in his side since they were kids. Lacking in ambition and completely content to ride on the successes of others, he owed everything he had to Yefim, which made his scolding that much more irritating. If Ruslin weren’t family, he would toss him to the alligators in some Florida swamp, but you didn’t do that to your own blood. Yefim didn’t have much of that left these days, although the older he got the more he was convinced family was overrated.

  “Cyla!” he shouted. He didn’t have to wait long. The well-endowed, purple-haired dancer wasted no time scurrying into his office. As far as dancers went she was one of his favorites. Hard working, kept her mouth shut, and stayed off the drugs. He called her his little mouse, always working to get the cheese and bothering no one. She was also stunningly beautiful but he was surrounded by good-looking broads all day long and was no longer affected by them. What he liked best about Cyla was that she knew her place in the world. She did as she was told and never questioned him. Unlike that fat fuck, Ruslin.

  “Where the fuck is my bartender?” he demanded. All of the dancers liked Nikki, but he’d noticed that she and Cyla seemed particularly close. Maybe they had some lesbo thing going on, who knew these days? “Is not like her to fuck off work even one night yet she misses three without a word.”

  Cyla shook her head. “I haven’t seen her,” she said. The worry on her face was easy to see and he took some comfort in it. “I’ve called and called but she never answers.”

  Yefim rubbed his temples, hoping to ward off the migraine that lurked just behind them. If Cyla hadn’t heard from her then there was still hope. Perhaps his luck wasn’t pure shit after all. “Has she been posting selfies from the beach while I am forced to find someone to cover her shifts?”

  Again Cyla shook her head. “She hasn’t posted anything since Friday night.”

  Perhaps she is dead, he mused. “If you hear anything you will let me know. Immediately! She has some explaining to do. Walking out on me like that!” He hoped he sounded suitably indignant. “Go now,” he snapped, waving her off with a hand.

  He turned his chair around and stared at the wall, hoping answers would come to him. The not knowing was killing him. The only thing keeping him from swallowing an entire roll of Tums was the fact that he hadn’t heard from the club’s owner either. Mikhail Petrov was a man of action. If Nikki had told him what she’d overheard four nights ago, Yefim would be rotting in a swamp by now. The Bear didn’t tolerate other hands dipping into his pockets.

  An idea came to him at last. He would go to Nikki’s home and take a look around. Maybe he could learn something there, and if anyone saw him he could just say he was concerned about a valued employee who hadn’t shown up to work in a few days.

  She lived in an upscale condominium by Brickell Bay, not million dollar real estate but certainly not the average housing for a strip club employee. Seeing it made Yefim uneasy once again. He’d been telling himself Nikki’s disappearance was most likely due to her being dead, but now he wasn’t so sure. Clearly she had the means to skip town, and the cash to do so without leaving a digital trail in her wake. Maybe she was very much alive, and just settling into somewhere safe before throwing him under the bus for his backdoor business deals.

  He moved through the building unnoticed. He’d learned as a kid that as long as you looked like you were going somewhere with purpose, people would ignore you. It had served him well over the years. When he reached her door he fished a small kit from his jacket that looked like a cell phone case. Inside were his lock picks. He hadn’t used them in decades, not since he was a teenager in Saint Petersburg. Working her door lock now took him back to those carefree days when he had nothing to lose and the world at his fingertips. A smile flitted across his face as he recalled that time. How he used to dream of moving up in the ranks, of one day being a boss with beautiful women and endless money. He suspected his seventeen-year-old self would be disgusted to see how he turned out. Now I am old and tired, he thought, with nothing but ashes of dreams in my hands, and an angry wife who cannot cook. He was about to decide even his skills had run away from him when the lock finally yielded.

  The scent of vanilla greeted him as he slipped inside. Although the lights were off there was plenty of natural sunlight streaming in the sliding patio doors off of the main living area, and he could see the home was spotlessly clean. The dishes were put away, the blanket on the couch neatly folded, no clothes in the dryer. He went down the hall and peered into the single bedroom to find the bed made and a number of stuffed animals propped up against the multitude of pillows that took up the front half. Yefim never understood what it was with women and pillows on the bed. His wife was always on him for throwing them on the floor when he went to sleep each night, but where else was he supposed to put them? As far as he was concerned, one for eac
h person was enough, but he knew better than to pick that particular battle.

  It struck him that Nikki’s room looked more suitable for a preteen girl instead of a grown woman, but then he’d always thought she was a little on the immature side. Always wearing kitten ears, always giggling and silly. The thought made him sad. Why did she have to snoop outside my office that night of all nights? It wasn’t the first time he’d asked himself that, and all because of a broken soda gun. “Done is done, can’t be undone,” he muttered to the stuffed animals on her bed.

  It wasn’t until he returned to the living room that he recognized a second aroma underneath the vanilla, and for the first time in days he smiled. Bleach. Relief flooded his senses. He knew exactly what bleach meant. A professional cleaner had been there, not to tidy up or dust but to clean a mess that required bleach and lots of it. He’d had to call upon a cleaner a few times himself, and he remembered that smell all too well. The vanilla is a nice touch, he mused as he took a closer look at the room to see if he could detect any signs of what may have happened. He could find nothing but it didn’t matter. It was obvious now that the contract had been carried out, but for some reason the hitter was never able to collect. Even the Switchboard didn’t know, and this brought yet another smile to his face.

  He fished his phone out and pulled up a contact. The call was answered on the first ring and Yefim sighed as the automated system kicked in. He hated dealing with these things. Press one for this language, press two for that language, press three to have this repeated. If he were still in Russia there would be none of this. You would either understand Russian or fuck off. “Accounts,” he said, hoping it would redirect, but the recording droned on. At last it offered up the extension he wanted. “Purchases,” he sighed.

  “One moment while I direct your call.” Yefim thought even the recording sounded bored with itself.

  “Thank you for calling Switchboard Consulting, how may I help you?”

  At last he’d reached a real person. “I need to cancel an order.”

  “I can certainly assist you with that. May I have your account ID, please?”

  Yefim gave it and waited.

  “I see you’ve had some issues with this purchase. I’m so sorry about this. How may I help you?”

  It struck Yefim that all call centers sounded the same. He could have just as easily been talking to Geek Squad. “I need to cancel it.”

  “I can certainly do that but first perhaps I could interest you...”

  Yefim cut her off before she could go further. “Cancel it now, please. I no longer require the service.” He waited for confirmation and then hung up.

  He took one last long look around Nikki’s home, then closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling the comforting scent of vanilla and bleach. He regretted that it had to happen but it was done and he didn’t even have to pay for it. At last his luck seemed to be going in the right direction.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tokyo was everything she’d imagined multiplied by a thousand: a swirling sea of people, bicycles, and brilliantly lit signs advertising everything from perfume to electronics. Gage had arranged for a private car from the hotel to pick them up at the airport and as it whisked them through the city she bounced from one window to the next, pausing only long enough to point at something new and exciting. From a million miles away she heard him talking to her but she couldn’t pay enough attention to understand anything he said. There was just too many things to look at!

  Nikki had always dreamed of traveling to exotic new places but dreaming was as far as she’d ever gotten with those plans. She’d gone to boarding school in Connecticut and then college in California, but her time there had been spent primarily in school. Since returning to Miami, her only travel outside of south Florida had been to Las Vegas. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford to go on trips but the idea of doing it alone terrified her.

  Of all the places she’d daydreamed of visiting, Japan was top of the list. She’d ordered so many clothes from Japanese retailers online. Lolita fashion was her absolute favorite and Tokyo was the go-to place for it. She was only sorry she didn’t have any of her pretty dresses with her now. Gage had packed her bag for her when he first rescued her but he’d only packed a few items. Not that she wasn’t grateful for it. She’d been too distraught to even think of gathering up anything. He’d let her order some clothing for the trip so she wasn’t stuck in the ratty gym clothes he’d grabbed, but it wasn’t anything like what she’d left behind.

  Then again, she wasn’t sure she was ready for Gage to see her dressed up like a Victorian doll or flitting about in her pretty navy and white sailor dress. Of course he’d seen her wear them and more at work but that was different. He’d also seen her cuddle her stuffies and suck her thumb, which was terribly embarrassing, but she had to admit he accepted it without comment. Her old boyfriends would have made fun of her, but Gage seemed willing to play along. At night he would bring her a stuffie and tuck it into bed with her. He’d even offered coloring suggestions on the plane when she was coloring the magazine the flight attendant had given her. Nikki felt shyly grateful for that, but at the same time it worried her. Perhaps he’d seen the little side of her so much that he didn’t see her as anything else.

  What happened on the last leg of the flight to Tokyo seemed surreal now. She’d been so tired and there were parts of the trip she couldn’t remember. What if everything that happened in the shower suite had been a dream? And even if it did happen, did it mean anything? She’d been wired for days and he’d gotten quite grouchy about her refusal to sleep. Maybe the only reason he did such wonderful things to her was to get her to shut up and take a nap. After all, why would a man like him want a girl who called him Daddy and played with stuffies and watched French cartoons she couldn’t even understand. Gage had traveled the world and seen things she could only dream of. He probably thought she was a silly brat who needed to grow up. Nikki imagined he was accustomed to women straight out of a James Bond movie. Sexy, sophisticated, well-traveled, and not afraid to go after what they wanted. How could she compete with that?

  Reluctantly she admitted she was being foolish to even imagine the two of them could ever be together. He’d already said things to indicate guys like him didn’t have relationships. After all he was a mercenary, which was just a fancy way of saying he was a killer for hire. It was hard to remember that when he was bringing her an orange juice or scolding her to brush her teeth for the third time, but it was a truth that was not going to go away. Even if he was interested in her, how would that ever work? Could she overlook, even accept, what he did for a living? And if she could, what did that say about her?

  For now that was something she didn’t want to dwell on. She was supposed to be at work now, pouring drinks for men with dollar bills in their hands and naked women in their minds. Instead she was in Tokyo with a dangerously sexy man riding in a luxurious car toward a hotel she was sure would blow her mind. A twist of fate she still didn’t understand had turned her life upside down, in some very deadly ways as well as some amazingly wonderful ones. Nikki didn’t know what lay ahead for her, but for now she was reveling in the unplanned excitement she found herself in, and the hope that something special might lie between them.

  * * *

  The exclusive hotel Gage had booked them at occupied the top eleven floors of a thirty-seven-story tower, allowing their luxurious suite to have the most fabulous views of the city. Normally he would have booked a less extravagant room for jobs, but it wasn’t every day he traveled with a companion. Nikki’s squeals of excitement as they entered the rooms made him smile despite his exhaustion. He hoped she would still love it after being cooped up in it for a few days. Best of all no one would ever think to look for her there. He didn’t expect any issues to arise now that they were half a world away from Miami but in his business you learned there was no such thing as being too careful.

  The spacious suite would also allow him some privacy to study up on th
e job he’d accepted. He’d had a chance to browse through the files on the plane but there was still a lot of research and planning to do. On the surface the job looked cut and dry. Switchboard jobs almost always involved eliminating one criminal at the behest of another, whether for business reasons or personal ones it rarely mattered. On the surface this one looked to be personal but he wouldn’t know until he hired a researcher to do some digging. Ordinary he would have done that before accepting the job, but the need to move Nikki out of town quickly had forced him to leap first and look later.

  For now the job could wait a little longer. He was more concerned about the dark circles under Nikki’s exhausted eyes than anything else. Thankfully she’d slept a solid seven hours on the last leg of the flight, but it was a drop in the bucket compared to how much she needed to catch up on. The only thing keeping her on her feet at this point was nervous, excited energy, but it couldn’t last forever. When it finally ran out, Gage feared she would collapse where she stood. Although it was only midafternoon in Tokyo he intended to get her put to bed as soon as possible.

  He found her with her face pressed up against a window in the sitting room, chattering away about Tokyo cityscape outside. “You can look at it tomorrow,” he said gently as he pulled one hand away from the window and firmly led her to the adjoining room where he’d already placed her bag. “You need sleep now.”

  “I’m too excited to sleep!” she giggled, although the yawn that followed said otherwise. “I want to see it all! I heard they have vending machines for like, everything! Oh and I want to see the Harajuku neighborhood! And the clubs! Oh and eat really good ramen, like Brittany Murphy did in that movie she did. She was so pretty. Do they really have car garages that are like Ferris wheels? I want to see that! One of the world’s biggest Ferris wheels is here too!”