Not good.
“Jane!” she yelped, throwing the door to the agency open so hard it nearly hit the wall. She was about to tell Jane she had to pee on the stick pronto and then process the results after that pronto because her husband was most likely on his way down there when she caught sight of her sister pulling a liquor bottle out of a desk drawer and unscrewing the cap.
Jane was about to tilt the bottle toward her mouth when Lucy rushed toward her, snatched the bottle in one hand and swatted her sister with the grocery bag. “Bad Jane! No drinking while pregnant!”
“Ouch!” Jane snarled, letting Lucy take the bottle and grabbing her now-bruised arm. “What the fuck was that?”
“Can of soup I think,” Lucy replied and then started scolding. “You can’t drink while you’re pregnant, Janie! What are you thinking? Everyone knows that! You can’t tell me you’ve never heard of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.”
“I’m not pregnant,” Jane grumbled.
Lucy dumped her bag onto the desk and handed Jane the test. She pointed at the washroom and said in an imperious voice, “Go.”
Jane pushed herself out of her chair with a huff and made her way toward the open door as though headed for the guillotine. Lucy slapped her ass, “Step on it, sister, I think the Boss is on his way and we need to be informed before the big man shows up.”
Jane whipped around, a hand hovering over her mouth and shocked horror suffusing her pale features. “Fuck no!”
“Yes,” Lucy confirmed. “Alexandr saw me buy the test, knew it wasn’t for me and most likely put two and two together. You know these meddlesome Russians, Vlad’s probably going to barge in here any second. So, stop swearing in front of my gestating niece or nephew and go take the test.”
“Fuck, no,” Jane mumbled again, ignoring Lucy’s demand that she stop swearing. “He’s already unbearably overprotective!” She threw her hands up in the air. “If I’m pregnant he’s going to come down like a ton of bricks, especially when he finds out I went after a bond jumper by myself. He’ll insist I quit work. Worse, he’ll lock me in the mansion. No, he’ll lock me in the bedroom, maybe even chain me to the bed so I can’t climb out the window.”
Lucy put a hand in the middle of Jane’s chest and gave her a light shove toward the washroom. “Just take the test. Then we’ll know if you have to worry. You helped me get out of the mansion, I’ll help you break out of the bedroom if it comes down to that.”
“Okay,” Jane sniffled and slammed the door shut.
Two minutes later she shouted through the door. “I’m too nervous to pee!”
Lucy settled herself on the floor outside the washroom door and leaned back against it resting her head on the wood. “Think of waterfalls, like Niagara or something,” she called back.
“I’ve never been to Niagara Falls,” Jane yelled.
“Which side have you never been to?” Lucy asked, resting her arms on her upraised knees and glancing through the office toward the front door expecting the big, bad mob boss to come striding in at any moment and demand she present his wife. “The US or Canadian side?”
“What?” Jane shouted grumpily. “What the fuck difference does it make? I’ve never been up North at all, you freak.”
Lucy snickered.
Another couple of minutes passed and then the door was jerked open so hard that Lucy went flying backwards and landed flat on her back. Jane crouched over top of her waving the pink and white stick. “I’m pregnant.”
Lucy’s eyes met Jane’s. What she saw made her heart sing with happiness. Jane was incredibly, unbelievably ecstatically happy. She’d just been afraid to hope for those few minutes before Lucy had brought her the test.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered again, her eyes tearing up.
“You’re going to be a mom,” Lucy grinned.
“You’re going to be an auntie,” Jane yelled down at her.
Lucy reached up and yanked Jane down into her arms so hard her older sister smashed into her chest with an audible ‘oomph’. This time she didn’t fight Lucy’s embrace though. The sisters hugged each other and laughed together until Jane finally rolled away. They lay side by side, crammed next to each other in the washroom door. Lucy reached down and gripped Jane’s hand. Jane held her hand like it was a lifeline, tears trickling down her cheeks. She turned her face to her younger sister.
“Lucy, I’m pregnant,” she said again, awe shining in her voice. “I didn’t think it was ever going to be possible for us. And I convinced myself I was okay with it because of who he is and because I’m a tough-as-nails badass bitch.”
“I know, Janie,” Lucy said simply, tears strangling her voice.
“I’m so fucking happy right now, Luce.”
Lucy reached over and brushed her sister’s short bangs to the side. “I’m so happy for you.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but the front door swung open and Vladimir’s bellowing voice shattered their moment.
“Jane Elizabeth Sitnikov!” he yelled, murder and mayhem evident in his deep, accented voice. “Where the fuck is my wife?”
Chapter Seven
“Nowhere to run to baby!” Lucy sang at the top of her lungs, whirling between a row of washing machines doing a quick two-step shuffle then a slide as she neared the end of the row. “Nowhere to hide!”
She shimmied past the dryers and a folding table then launched herself down another row, dancing with gusto, glad she’d chosen the black platform heels for washing day instead of stilettos. She probably would have been more self-conscious except Alexandr stood in front of the door of the laundromat, like a super scary statue, ensuring her privacy. She’d assured him over and over that she didn’t mind sharing the dozens of machines with other people, but he still scared off anyone who thought to share laundry day with her. And since there was nothing Lucy could do about his over-protective attitude except do her washing as quickly as possible, she took advantage of the privacy and space by turning the laundromat into her own personal dance stage every Sunday morning from 9-11am.
As her song wrapped up, Lucy took a bow, switched her washing loads into dryers and scrolled through her Apple music playlists until she found her next performance, Kings of Leon, Sex on Fire.
She jumped around, playing air guitar and dancing until the chorus came on and then she belted it out, “Yoooouuuu…. your sex is on fire!”
She shimmied down the aisle, swinging her hips, practicing some moves for her next club night with Amber. She banged her hands on the washing machines in time with the drum beat. “Yooouuu… your sex is on fire! Consumed… with what’s to transpire!” She twirled, her short skirt flaring out, her hair swinging wildly.
She was so caught up in her dance routine that she didn’t see Mack step in front of her until it was too late to stop herself from slamming full on into the big man hard enough to rock him back on his heels. His hands came up to grip her shoulders, stopping her from flying backwards and sprawling on the floor. Her mouth fell open and her eyes flew to his face. He scowled down at her, his perpetual look of anger firmly in place. She’d stopped taking it personally weeks ago.
Lucy beamed up at him, flashing him a whole lot of teeth as Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Big Love’ started blasting in her ears. His frown started to melt, and his lips twitched until he was completely unable to hold his sour expression in the face of her happiness at seeing him. He said something, but she couldn’t hear him. She told him as much, but the startled look on his face told her she’d shouted it at him. She couldn’t even hear her own voice, her music was so loud. She knew she should probably do the polite thing and shut it off. But the moment was too perfect… the music, the man, the sun filtering through the grubby front window. She wanted it to last forever.
He was still gripping her shoulders, his long fingers giving just the perfect amount of bite to set her heart and libido going. Summoning up all the daring she could, and just going with the moment, she went up on her toes and brushed his chin with her lips. His ey
es narrowed, piercing her with blue daggers. Not anger, but something almost more intense. She reached up, ran her fingers into his short blond hair and tugged his head down. She placed her lips against his and smiled as she kissed him. Not a kiss full of passion or need as he’d once kissed her, but a happy kiss, because seeing him there in the laundromat made her heart melt.
He stiffened under her hands, his body tensing, the air between and around them seeming to ignite with invisible sparks. Lucy fluttered her eyelids shut and brushed her lips back and forth against him, enjoying the sensation of skin on skin, even if it was minimal contact. The feel of his hard, but also soft lips beneath hers, the touch of her fingers against his silky, springy hair sent a flood of heat right through her body pooling in her belly and lower.
Lucy knew she was being unbelievably bold. That she was playing with fire by touching the bounty hunter like this. That she was probably going to get singed by the flames. But she didn’t care. She saw what she wanted, right there in front of her, and she was going to reach out and touch it.
And then he touched back.
Like a trap, he snapped. Her eyes flew open as his hands dropped from her shoulders and he wrapped one arm around her waist, the other around her back. He pulled her tight against his body, lifting her into him and deepening the kiss, taking control. She abandoned herself to him with a moan, the track switching over to ‘Unchained Melody’ by The Valentines. She sighed and opened her mouth under him, deciding the moment couldn’t be more perfect.
She clutched his broad shoulders, loving the feel of every part of his hard body touching hers. She did her best to melt into him as he pressed her full length against him, one large hand splayed across the top of her back and the other, gripping her ass, urging her closer. His lips sipped, caressed, teased and took. He took his time with her, but she could feel the barely leashed restraint.
He speared his tongue into her mouth, forcing it into the heated depths. She opened for him with an eager gasp, bringing her hands up to his cheeks to hold his head exactly the way she wanted so she could taste him back. He had the warmest, sexiest lips. And his mouth! She shoved his tongue back with her own, taking what she so desperately wanted, controlling him in return, sweeping his teeth and the inside of his mouth. He chuckled against her mouth as she explored him with an unpolished eagerness, standing on her booted tiptoes.
Finally, he tugged her back, forcing her lips away from his, but he continued to hold her tight, his hands spanning her waist. She allowed it, flinging her arms back and stretching as though she were about to take flight.
“Wow!” she shouted over her music and grinned.
She felt rather than heard the vibrations of his laughter through his chest. He lifted her right off her feet until she was right over his head. She squealed loud enough to hear it over her earphones and reached down to grip his shoulders, laughing wildly while he swung her around. She reveled in his easy strength.
Oh oh.
She caught a glimpse of Alexandr, who must have come inside when she’d screeched. Mack followed her line of sight and frowned. She watched his magnificently chiseled lips move as he snapped something at her bodyguard while allowing Lucy to slide slowly down the front of his body. Her skirt started to go up, but Mack held one broad hand possessively over her ass and kept her tilted away from Alexandr so he wouldn’t see. She reached up and shoved her earphones back until they rested around her neck. She could now hear the conversation between the two brutal men.
“Not leaving her alone with you anymore, Hudson,” Alexandr snarled, his accent thicker than usual. “Take your fucking hands off her.”
“Get out, now,” Mack growled each word with such deadly intensity that the hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck stood up.
“Let her go,” Alexandr snapped back.
“Not in this life time.”
“Okay boys,” Lucy intervened in a breathless voice, then said over her shoulder toward her bodyguard because Mack wasn’t loosening his grip enough to let her even turn around to talk to the other man. “I’m fine, Alexandr. Mack and I are… we’re sort of… sort of…”
“We’re fucking together,” Mack snarled. “Go tell your boss, if you need to, but stay the fuck out of our business and do your job. Keep her safe, keep your hands off.”
Alexandr glared for a moment then turned on his heel, stormed out of the shop and lifted his phone to his ear, no doubt doing exactly what Mack had suggested and calling his boss. Holy cow. She was probably in trouble now. She was pretty sure she was allowed to date while in the big city. Vladimir hadn’t exactly gone over the rules, but she was a smart girl. She was pretty sure there was a short list. She was also pretty sure the angry bounty hunter wasn’t on that list.
“Whoa,” she breathed. “What was that?” She turned a raised eyebrow on the man gripping her like he had no intention of ever letting her go.
He leaned his forehead against hers and held her tight against him. “I don’t want him getting too close.”
She laughed a little and ran her hands up and down his arms. “He’s my bodyguard, Mack, as in, he guards my body. He has to get within the vicinity of this body in order to do his job. And he is effective at that job.” She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes too effective.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? Has he touched you?” Mack growled, pushing her back to pin her against a dryer. She felt the warmth of the working machine against her butt.
“I just mean he takes his job seriously,” she said quickly. “He reports on me to Vlad all the time. I can barely go to the washroom without it getting back to the Boss, you know? So, this?” She pointed between the two of them. “Is definitely getting back to Vlad. Hope you’re ready for some serious Russian fallout, my friend.”
“Fuck the Russians, baby,” he growled, nipping at her ear. “I know what I want, and I’ve decided I want you.”
“Okay,” she whispered back.
“Come with me to dinner.”
“Yes,” she agreed without hesitation.
He stepped back, grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward the door.
“Wait, my clothes!” She dug her feet in and tried to stop him from pulling her out the door.
He glanced back but continued to drag her. “Your bodyguard can pack them up and take them home.”
“I don’t want him pawing through my underwear!” she protested.
He stopped walking so abruptly she smacked into his extremely solid, extremely broad back. “Fuck no!” he snarled. “Fucker does not get to touch your panties if he wants to keep his fingers.” He dropped her hand, turned on his heel and reached for a laundry basket.
Lucy giggled and reached for another basket. She decided to keep to herself all the times Alexandr had helped her with laundry and the time she’d had him hold her potential purchases while she was going through racks at Victoria’s Secret. Then there was Kendra’s bachelorette party when she’d been unable to fully navigate herself to the vehicle alone and he’d had to sling her over his shoulder and she’d been wearing a short skirt that night. She was pretty certain that Alexandr had touched her panties on more than one occasion.
Lucy didn’t think now was the time for Mack to find out about her underwear flashing tendencies. He had a solid half foot and probably fifty pounds on Alexandr. Plus, a whole lot more bad attitude and he was armed to the teeth. She’d felt his holster while they’d been making out.
Chapter Eight
“When you said you were taking me out for dinner, I was expecting something…”
“Fancier?” Mack suggested gruffly as he switched off the ignition to his truck and turned to look at Lucy.
She looked at the small bungalow in the somewhat ramshackle, rundown neighborhood. “No, Mack. Something more in line with a restaurant. I’m not disappointed if that’s what you’re thinking. Where are we?” she asked curiously.
“My dad’s place,” he grunted. “We do Sunday dinner here whenever I’m availab
le.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Me, my sister, her husband if he’s around, their kids and my dad.”
“Oh my gosh,” Lucy exclaimed excitedly. “And you brought me?”
“Yeah,” he said in a voice that sounded as though he was starting to regret it. “Don’t shit a brick over it, okay?”
She shot him a disgusted look and reached for the door. “I would never shit a brick. Come on, let’s go! I can’t wait!”
“She’s fuckin’ excited,” he snarled under his breath, climbing out of the vehicle and slamming his door viciously. He reached for her arm and she skittered excitedly around the front. “This is a bad fucking idea.”
“Why?” she demanded, tipping her face up to his. “Because I’m a lovely person and they’re all going to love me? Or because you have grumpy face issues?”
His eyes narrowed, and his hand tightened on her arm as they walked. “I shouldn’t let you get away with talking shit. Where did you get such a big mouth from? Your parents not spank you enough as a kid?”
She laughed and jerked her arm from his grip. Skipping ahead she turned on her heel to face him and walked backwards. She shrugged, lifting her arms. “This is the way I am, big guy. You know you love it.”
He caught her against him and crushed her lips beneath his for a few seconds, breathing her in for a moment. “Stop saying the love word, you brat. You’re doing it on purpose.”
She widened her eyes and stared up at him guilelessly, standing on her tiptoes, her lips inches from his. “Does it make you uncomfortable when I talk about love, Mack?”
“Yes,” he growled down at her.
“But you want me, right?” she asked him innocently. “Real bad. Don’t you?”
His eyes narrowed again, and he frowned fiercely at her, apparently caught between amusement at her playful banter and annoyance at the direction she was forcing the conversation. He swatted her ass, hard, drawing a startled yelp from her. “No woman is going to force a commitment from me again. Hear me?” He gripped her rounded ass over her skirt. “Not even one I want as bad as you. If I want you, I’ll fucking take you. When and where I want.”
In His Sights Page 5