by Debra Webb
He brushed his mouth across hers, his palms sliding over the thin fabric wrapped around her hips. He wanted her out of the clothes, away from everything related to this case. He wanted her. With him. No secrets, no roles, no looming threats. “You gave a stunning performance tonight,” he murmured against her lips.
“So you do like me with dark hair.”
“I don’t.” He shook his head, forced himself to scan the dance floor. “I need a drink.” Anything strong enough to dull his desire was out of the question, because it would give the Russians an edge. He ordered a beer and she asked for the same. With the longneck bottles in hand, they made slow progress to the opposite side of the dance floor.
Derrick had given him the code for the suite upstairs and he wanted to retreat to that quiet safety. First they had to make sure plenty of people saw her here, living it up. She was bait again, but this time for the police.
They danced through each song, using the crowd as a shield to move through the club while Russians skulked around the exits. It was standard predator procedure. Too bad the prey wasn’t leaving.
“Can you give me a hint?” she asked, her gaze sliding toward the men from Polzin’s operation. “A time frame?”
He bent his head to her ear. “We’ll move when the police arrive. I’ve got this.”
She graced him with a wide, genuine smile. “I trust you.”
His blood turned hot in his veins. He recognized the sweet stab of lust when she peered up at him through her long eyelashes, but he wanted something else from her. Something he wasn’t sure she wanted to give to him or any other man.
It took longer than he’d hoped for the distraction and commotion as police arrived flashing badges but not guns. “Now we move.” He drifted into the shadows with her and then through a staff access door.
“This way,” he said, nudging her into a stairwell. “Up one more flight. Derrick has a suite armed with cameras.” And much more. “He’s letting us hide here tonight.”
“Won’t the police search the place for me?”
“Claudia is already working on drawing them away with another Lauren Marie sighting.”
“But Polzin’s men won’t give up on us,” she said pausing at the landing. “Not after we helped Vanya and the women escape.”
“They won’t get to us here.”
“You’re sure?”
“I promise.” He brushed his knuckles across her perfect cheek.
She studied him a long moment, then nodded. “Lead the way,” she said, lacing her fingers with his once more.
He hoped she meant that as he entered the code and drew her into the suite. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman the way he wanted her. She stirred a dark need inside him. He wanted to worship every sensual curve of her body, master the things that brought her pleasure, and unveil every nuance of the woman behind the persona. He’d never experienced the pounding demand he felt with her. More troubling, he felt sure he would never experience it with anyone else.
He stopped inside the door and pushed his hands through her hair. Tugging gently, her chin came up, exposing the pale column of her throat. Pressing his lips to that soft, warm skin, he felt the quickening of her pulse. “I need you.” It was an understatement, but he wasn’t in any condition to deliver a monologue.
She pushed her hands under his suit jacket, her fingers tugging at his shirt. “It’s mutual. Do we dare? There are cops and bad guys just downstairs—all looking for us.”
“Oh we dare, baby.”
He kissed her, hard, giving her a hint of what he sought. She opened for him, drew his tongue into her mouth, and arched her body against him.
He broke the kiss long enough to catch his breath and flip on a light. “Fully stocked,” he said. “Derrick said to help ourselves.”
She licked her lips, her gaze locked on his mouth. “You’re my only craving.”
Thank God for common ground. “Same goes.” His hands clutching her rounded hips, his mouth fused with hers, he backed her into the room until she bumped into the back of the sectional. Nothing would stop them this time. It took every ounce of strength to slow down. He was all too ready for her, too eager to act on the fantasy he’d built around her. If he only had tonight, he wanted it to count. “Turn around.”
Her eyelids fluttered open and her pale eyes smoldered with heat. He waited, wondering if his struggle for self-control showed on his face. Finally she turned, giving him her back. “Lift your hair.” He smiled as she gathered the long tresses into her hands, revealing a wealth of creamy, silky skin. “Hold still.”
She complied and he pressed his lips to her nape as he slowly lowered the zipper on her dress. He tasted every fresh inch of skin on the way down and back up again, relishing the little tremors he created.
“So responsive,” he murmured as his palms cruised over her body. He reached around and weighed her breasts in his hands. She arched into his touch as he brought her nipples to hard peaks. Flexing his hips he rocked his erection against her bottom, leaving no doubt what her reactions were doing to him.
“I want to touch you,” she said.
“In time.” He caught her wrists and lowered her arms, until her hands rested in the hollow just above her hips. Keeping out of her reach, he turned her and claimed her mouth again.
Sliding the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders, he stripped away the fabric, exploring her with his hands and mouth until only her heels and lacy panties remained.
He traced the scalloped edge of lace with his tongue, teasing a nervous laugh out of her. He wanted her at his mercy, no disguises, no role-play. Tonight he wanted all of her, the real woman, the brave woman behind the successful entertainer. He wanted more than that, but he didn’t have the words.
With his hands and mouth, he explored every rise and hollow of her body. Drawing away that last bit of lace, he teased her with his tongue and fingers, giving her everything he couldn’t articulate. He let the sensations build, learning what made her pant and sigh, then he pushed her until her knees quaked and she surrendered completely to a shuddering climax, his name on her lips and her hands spearing through his hair.
His body caressed hers as he stood and she trembled. He caught her in his arms and settled her across his lap on the sectional. The heat of her scorched him through his trousers, made his body ache to thrust. She pressed soft kisses to his neck, his ear, then turned his head so she could claim his mouth. He nearly pounced on her, all too eager to drive himself into her hot, wet body.
“You’re overdressed,” she whispered, nipping his jaw with her teeth as her fingertips worked at his shirtfront.
“Do you want to fix that?”
“Oh, yes.” She sat up, her nude body surrounding him in open invitation as her legs straddled his. “Can I have my way with you?”
“Always.” The answer was out there and he didn’t even want to snatch it back. He knew, beyond any doubt, he’d always be hers. But this wasn’t the time to discuss it.
“Mmm.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m a lucky woman.”
He wasn’t about to argue as she dispensed with his jacket and shirt, her hands running over his skin and setting him on fire. She stood and pulled him to his feet. When she dropped to her knees in front of him, he lost his breath. He lifted one foot at a time for her to remove his shoes and socks. Her delicate fingers unfastened his belt and trousers and slowly worked them down his legs. He stepped out of them, his body shuddering as she touched him through the silk boxer briefs. He closed his eyes and prayed he would survive as she gripped his waistband and tugged his briefs off. She pressed her lips to his hip, her cheek brushing his erection.
No more. He pulled her up, but she wasn’t ready to relinquish control just yet. She pushed him back onto the sofa. With her hands on his shoulders, she lowered her hips over his erection in one smooth motion. Slick with passion, her body clutched and released his length as she moved. He filled his hands and mouth with her brea
sts as her head fell back and her eyes closed on a little moan of pleasure.
His desire spiked as he watched her react to his touch, inside and out. His body jerked and he gripped her hips, holding her tight against him as the climax crashed over them both like a wave.
Here’s the real Lauren, he thought as she collapsed against him with a satisfied sigh. He didn’t deserve her, he knew it, but he intended to do everything in his power to keep her in his life.
Chapter Twelve
Lauren wasn’t sure where her body stopped and Mike’s began. His heartbeat, pounding under her hand, felt more real than her own. She needed to move, but couldn’t quite make it happen.
He’d thoroughly exposed her, body and soul, and she wanted to start all over again. She pressed her lips to the hot skin of his shoulder and tried to catch her breath. Pleasure seemed like too tame a word for what they’d shared. For the woman who kept herself under control in all things, surrendering to him left her feeling cherished and precious rather than just a useful toy or convenience.
He’d asked for the real Lauren and she’d given him all of her, allowing him to see something she didn’t realize she’d had welling inside. She eased back, the air chilling her skin as their bodies parted, but he stilled her with his hand splayed across her lower back.
“Not without a kiss,” he said.
Lauren happily obliged, letting her mind fade to a blank canvas as she sank into the tastes and sensations that were uniquely him. Reluctantly shifting away from him, she slipped into his dress shirt as she stood up. Catching the possessive look in his eyes, she smiled to herself as she wandered off to find the bathroom. That look should’ve scared her. It didn’t.
She’d seen possessiveness lead people down dark trails of obsession and worse. But when Mike gave her that look, she felt secure in a way she’d never experienced or expected. She’d suspected from that first day that letting him close could be addictive. Tonight’s events from the rescue to the escape to the magnificent, hot sex proved her theory beyond all doubt. It was strange to realize she wouldn’t regret a single minute of her time with him.
They’d taken risks and they’d been in serious danger, but survived. Together. She’d been more than a little scared for Vanya and those women and herself, but she realized her confidence in Mike hadn’t wavered.
When she emerged from the bathroom, he’d straightened up and pulled on his slacks, and was staring intently at his phone. “What now?” she asked, savoring the view of his muscled torso. She’d had her hands all over that body. A delicious tremor slid through her. She hoped he would be game for an encore.
“Now.” Standing, he walked over and took her hand, raising it to his lips. “We rest. Tomorrow we’ll take what we have to the feds.” He led her toward the bed. “Derrick says this place is ours for as long as we need it.”
His connections had been a surprise, as he kept so much of himself locked away. Private. At first, she’d assumed it was merely professional distance, but now she knew better. He was afraid his friends, like his father, believed the worst about him. She knew how that felt, understood what it was like when the public persona didn’t match the truth, but couldn’t be corrected without making things worse. “You have a good friend.”
“Yeah.” He pulled back the bedding. “Ladies first.”
He expected her to sleep? That felt far more intimate than sex, but she slid between the cool sheets, happy just to be near him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The mattress dipped a little as he stretched out beside her. “It can wait.”
She studied the shadows in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. Whatever he’d learned, he knew she wouldn’t like it. “I’d rather hear it now.”
“Vanya is dead.”
“What?” Lauren sat up. The euphoria of success evaporated in an instant as shock and anger rolled through her. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. “That’s impossible. We got them out. They went to the authorities.”
Mike sat up and gathered her into his arms. “Polzin guessed right. He knew her better than we thought he did. Claudia told me Vanya gave her statement, but was killed in transit to an FBI safe house.”
Lauren curled into Mike’s strength. A statement wouldn’t be as effective as a witness in a courtroom. “This has to stop.” She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “We have to find a way to stop him.”
“The others are safe. That will be enough to put him behind bars.”
Lauren disagreed. “His men will take the fall for the kidnappings and the crimes at the school. You know as well as I do that tonight won’t put a dent in his operation. He’ll just keep supplying those awful buyers.”
“I have names and faces on video, Lauren. We’ll turn everything in tomorrow morning.”
“This has gone too far,” she insisted.
“Shh.” He stretched out and drew her down with him. “Rest now.” His hand stroked through her hair, soothing her. “I promise Polzin will pay.”
“But Vanya...” Lauren’s voice trailed off on a wave of grief. While Vanya wasn’t a friend, there’d been some camaraderie. They had shared a mutual goal and determination to break the horrid part of Polzin’s organization Desmond had helped to create here.
When they’d first identified Polzin, Mike had warned her about the dangers and cost of failure. She’d believed him, and yet she’d also believed he was close enough to invincible that it would all work out perfectly. She’d been more than willing to step up and stop this madness, but she’d never intended for anyone to be hurt.
She shook her head. “I can’t sleep. Not now.”
“Just close your eyes. Let it all go. For an hour.” His hand worked some magic on her skin, in her hair, lulling her into a twilight doze where the sting of failure wasn’t as sharp. “Just an hour,” he whispered.
Mike kept soothing her until her breath evened out and her body relaxed. She’d been through an ordeal, followed by one shock after another as they’d peeled back the layers Trinity had used to insulate himself from Polzin and the law.
While Lauren slept, Mike reviewed every detail, looking for his mistake. Saving the redhead from the party had potentially put Polzin on alert and while they’d escaped, he knew Polzin wasn’t done. Not with Lauren and not with his lucrative human trafficking plans. The feds had a good start with Vanya’s statement supporting the claims of those women, Trinity and Polzin’s ownership of the finishing school and the club. But Lauren was right. Polzin could still slip free.
She snuggled closer to him and his body responded, but not with lust or passion. No, like a reflex he automatically curled around her, giving her shelter despite their safe surroundings. What was wrong with him? He told himself to get up, to go sleep on the couch until they needed to leave, but he couldn’t do it. Hadn’t his dad always said he invested too quickly in people?
It had been true enough with Lauren.
Thinking of his old man typically irritated him. Not this time. Quick or not, investing in Lauren as a client and a woman felt right. There was no use fighting it, so he let the feeling wash over him. He didn’t have to know right here and now what they would do about their connection, about this need for her building inside him. Those answers could wait until the biggest dangers in her life were paparazzi, happy fans, and competition for choice roles.
Saturday, December 13
Mike managed a couple hours sleep, rising as the sun shimmered on the edge of the eastern horizon. He didn’t need a window or a clock, his body knew when to get moving.
Sliding away from Lauren’s tempting body, he showered and borrowed a shirt from his friend since Lauren still wore his. It wouldn’t take any time for a club limo to get them to the safe house where they could change into something less provocative for the interview with the feds.
He returned to the bedroom to wake her up, but she was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him. “Good morning.”
She shrugged. “Any coffee?”
> “In a bar?” He grinned. “Always.”
“Good.” She pushed her hands through her hair. “I’ve been thinking about Polzin and Desmond.”
He would’ve been surprised if she hadn’t. “And?”
“We’ve followed everything but the money.”
“You said all his money was tied up in the agency and his other companies.”
“I’m wrong. I must be if Claudia couldn’t find it,” she said, gathering her hair into a loose ponytail. “I woke up thinking about Vanya, about why she was at the office with Desmond that night.”
Mike waited, but she didn’t elaborate. “Hold that thought.” He went out to the kitchenette and started a pot of coffee for her, then grabbed a cola from the refrigerator for himself.
Lauren joined him, wearing the dress from last night. “Even you said she agreed too quickly to help us.” Lauren watched the fresh coffee fill the carafe.
“But she didn’t betray us,” he replied. “She got the women out. She saved them.”
“And paid the ultimate price.” Lauren dropped her head into her hands, but when she looked up again her eyes were clear. “Desmond did terrible things, but what if he and Vanya were together because they wanted to escape Polzin?”
“In your police statement you said Trinity claimed he’d stopped sending product because of legal scrutiny.”
She sighed. “Desmond always said whatever suited his purposes in the moment. Implying a federal investigation sounds much better than admitting you’re trying to help the boss’s mistress escape. We can confirm my theory easy enough when we meet with the FBI.”
“True.” He’d been with the buyers long enough for a firsthand look at Polzin’s ruthless streak. The women they’d rescued were samples, meant to be tokens to ease the impatience for the real shipment. Polzin had ordered Vanya’s death, but he’d be looking for Mike and Lauren now. Mike knew that, and while he trusted Lauren’s disguises and Claudia’s skills at erasing a trail, they wouldn’t be safe until Polzin was behind bars or dead.