Guard (The Underground Book 3)

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Guard (The Underground Book 3) Page 8

by Becca Jameson


  She sucked in a breath, her body shaking. “Yes.” The one word was weak.

  Oh yeah, he affected her.

  It took Herculean strength to leave that woman standing in a towel and enter the steamy bathroom. He left the door ajar in case she needed him and so he could hear if anyone actually came to the door. He’d done the same thing every day since he’d essentially moved in with her. Today was no different.

  Except it was. Very different. Because this time he was going to immediately take himself in hand and put his cock out of its misery in her shower. He didn’t give a fuck if she walked into the room and watched. In fact, he intended to pretend exactly that. Visions of her standing outside the small enclosure while he thrust his dick through his fingers made him even harder.

  He shed his boxers and flipped on the shower at the same time he stepped inside. It couldn’t have cooled down yet.

  And he was right. Warm water heated quickly, pounding on his back as he set one hand against the tile and wrapped his other around his length. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from moaning out loud. It wouldn’t take long, but he didn’t want to scream out when he came.

  With his eyes closed, he tipped his face back and let the water fall on the back of his head. He pumped fast and hard, clenching his dick with just the right pressure—the way he always got off when he was in a hurry.

  And it didn’t take long. In less than a minute he slid his hand to the base, gripped himself, and thrust his hips forward while jets of come squirted out to run down the drain.

  He even managed to stifle the long sigh that escaped his lips. When he thought he could stand straight and control his arms, he righted himself and reached for the bar of soap. His arms shook.

  Jesus. Even when she wasn’t in the room, she packed a punch to the gut.

  »»•««

  Anton lifted his gaze when his newly hired epidemiologist stepped into his office. “Jorge, tell me something good.” He’d hired this man from Colombia and paid a fortune to get him into the US. This time his medical professional worked solely for him.

  Jorge smiled. “I can do that.” His English was perfect. The only indication he wasn’t born and raised in the US was his accent. Yenin’s accent was far more pronounced. “We have another survivor.”

  Anton clapped his hands in front of his mouth and thanked heaven. “Which one?”

  “Number Seventeen. Male. Forty years old. He was probably recently displaced and homeless, judging by his good health.”

  “Hmm. Interesting. Perhaps we’ve been going about this all wrong. Is it possible the high death rate is caused by poor health? The first person to survive the initial injection was that social worker, Haley Sullivan. She was also in good health.”

  “Number Thirteen, right?”

  “Yes. The one who escaped. Though escaped is a loose term since she’s now in the hands of Mikhail Dudko.”

  “He’s one of your fighters?”

  “Was. All six of them are now defectors.”

  “Do you think they’re onto you? Do they know what you’re doing here? How much would Number Thirteen have been able to tell them?”

  “Very little. I’m sure they have their own team of doctors trying to figure out the mystery, but they never will. They can scratch their heads for years, but my formula is solid, tight, and undetectable.” Anton at least had that going for him.

  Jorge smiled. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Is Number Seventeen stable enough to move into the next phase?”

  “Yes. I believe so.”

  “Excellent. Let’s proceed then.”

  “How far into the second phase did you get with Number Thirteen?”

  “We didn’t.” Anton tapped his pencil on the desk in frustration. He had an idea. “Any way you could put something together for me that might allow us to put phase two into action with Haley Sullivan without her knowledge?”

  Jorge tucked his lips into his mouth and stared at the corner of the room for a moment before he slowly nodded. “Could be possible. I think so. You have access to her?”

  “It can be arranged.”

  A slow smile spread across Jorge’s face. “Let me see what I can do. I’ll have something for you by the end of the day.”

  “Appreciate it. And keep this to yourself as usual.” Few of Anton’s staff knew exactly what he was up to.

  Even Jorge didn’t have all the information yet. Anton was still making sure the man could be trusted.

  “It’s possible excellent health is a factor. I’ll look into it.” Jorge turned to leave but paused in the doorway. “This could be a huge breakthrough.”

  “Let’s hope so.” It was growing increasingly difficult to easily snatch people off the streets. Police were everywhere, and word had spread among the homeless to watch their backs and travel in groups. Only the most alienated were viable options.

  And if what Jorge suggested was true, the most alienated homeless people were the least likely to be healthy enough to survive the initial trial.

  It was time to move on to phase two. Haley Sullivan had been snatched out from his clutches before he could inject her with the second round of shots.

  He needed her back. It was becoming a matter of life and death. He was also down two men since Boris and Erik had been too stupid to stay alive. If he ever had the chance to thank someone for shooting those two in the head and taking them off his hands, he would. Less messy on his end.

  Four of his guys were due to arrive from Vegas in a few days. Hopefully they would be able to find a time to grab Haley Sullivan. That bitch was forever surrounded by the Russian fighters. Finding the opportunity to grab her was going to be tough.

  Too bad he couldn’t just hire someone to knock off Mikhail. It would be so much easier to grab Haley if he got her protector out of the way. But he didn’t need the added attention the act would draw to himself. The FBI was already breathing down his neck far too close to home. If he offed one of the fighters, they would likely pick up their pace.

  Besides, he wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t need those guys again at some point. Even though he’d studied them for years and done extensive testing, there was still no guarantee the drug they’d received as babies in Russia would last a lifetime. If it lost its effectiveness, he wanted to know. And the only way to be sure was to keep those guys close and available.

  Anton needed more time. The clock was ticking. He didn’t need to turn his already rushed situation into something even hastier. The drug he was developing wasn’t perfected yet, and until it was, he was stuck.

  He picked up his desk phone and dialed his father’s right-hand man in New York.

  Viktor answered on the second ring. “Anton, how’s it going?”

  “Making headway on this end. I’ve had another promising result.”

  “Good. I’m sure Grigory will be pleased to hear it.”

  “How is he?” Anton rubbed his temple as he asked about his father.

  “About the same. The ALS is relatively stable, but until he shakes the pneumonia, he’s not out of the woods.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll let you go. Hopefully I’ll have even better news in a few days.”

  “That would make the old man smile. Talk to you later.” Viktor ended the call, leaving Anton holding the phone in his hand.

  His mind wandered to better days. He and his father had been working on this drug for over twenty years. It would be a shame for Grigory to die before seeing the completion.

  Millions or perhaps billions of dollars were up for grabs. Anton closed his eyes on a slow smile. He would be set for life. He just needed to get Number Seventeen into the next stage of testing, bring Number Thirteen back into the lab, and he would be so close to marketing the drug.

  So close to being able to use the drug to help his father.

  So close to injecting himself with the drug.

  So close…

  Chapter Seven

  Haley fidgeted in her seat as they dro
ve to Mikhail’s apartment. She’d been with him several times to the gym and to the clinic, but this was her first trip to the apartment where she would see his belongings and get a better idea of who he was and what made him tick.

  She had no idea why she was such a ball of nerves.

  Liar.

  Her pussy still protested the way it had been cut off without getting the relief she craved for the second time in just a few short hours. A woman could only take so much. And if she was honest, it had happened more than a few times in the last several days.

  And jeans were not the best choice she’d ever made. The seam was tight against her lower lips, separating them and driving her to distraction.

  Damn this man who drove along cool as a cucumber as if nothing remotely different filled the air between them. He probably jerked off in the shower, leaving her high and dry while she made coffee with shaky fingers.

  It wasn’t as if she could have dropped the towel, climbed onto the bed, and put her vibrator to use while he showered. Mikhail was too quick. And she would have fallen under the spell of masturbation and never noticed when he finished.

  She shuddered, picturing him standing in her room watching her get off, legs spread wide, heels pressing into the mattress, one hand rubbing the vibrator against her clit while the other thrust into her pussy.

  Sure. These thoughts were so helpful at getting her heart to stop beating so hard and her nipples to stop pressing against the lace of her bra as if it were sandpaper. And her clit… The tight ball of need was in the same state of denial against the lace of her matching thong. Why had she chosen the matching sexy set of lingerie in the first place? It was so unlike her.

  She could tell herself it was because it made her feel good, but that would be a lie. The reality was she hoped it would be seen at some point before the day ended.

  Mikhail pulled into the parking garage attached to his apartment building, found a spot, and shut off the engine. “You nervous?” He looked at her quizzically.

  “A little.”

  “About what? You’ve met most of my friends already.” He opened his door to get out.

  She shrugged. “Feels different this time,” she muttered as she slipped out of the Jeep.

  He rounded the car from behind, his gaze darting all over the gloomy gray garage.

  “Do you think someone would have followed us here?” She looked around also, fear replacing her anxiety. It wasn’t that she had a problem meeting Sergei and Nikolav. It was her relationship with Mikhail that had her unnerved. How much did his friends know, and would they be able to tell she and Mikhail had moved into new territory?

  The answer was probably yes, considering Mikhail wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hauled her into his side as they walked. “They don’t need to follow us. Everyone knows we live in this building by now. They’ve been following us for months.”

  She shuddered as he reached for the elevator button.

  When he turned toward her, she flattened into his side, her hand reaching for a belt loop at the back of his jeans. What she encountered instead made her yelp and jump out of his grasp. “Is that a gun?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Of course.”

  “You carry a gun?” She repeated the obvious.

  “Yes.” He reached for her hand and drew her closer again, using his other hand to tip her head back with a nudge under her chin. “I’ve had a permit to carry for many years. It’s for protection.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I mean I didn’t always have it on me, but now I do.”

  “So we’re in that much danger…” Her mouth went dry. Were there really people that interested in her lurking in the corners of the dimly lit garage?

  “I’m not going to sugarcoat it.” The elevator opened up, and he angled her to step inside. When the door closed, he continued. “I have no idea what Yenin did to you, but what if he wasn’t finished?”

  She shuddered. Mikhail was right.

  When the doors opened again, they stepped into a hallway, and Mikhail led her toward the left, stopping finally to pull keys out of his pocket.

  Seconds later, the door was open, and he ushered her inside in front of him. The room was filled with people, especially huge men. She recognized Leo and Ivan easily. The two men she hadn’t met stood and crossed the room to meet her.

  “Sergei,” the first one said, arm extended. “You must be Haley.” He had strawberry-blond hair and deep blue eyes, but he was one of the lucky ones who also got darker skin.

  She shook his hand, nodding.

  The second man, in contrast, had jet black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. He nudged Sergei out of the way and smiled at her. “Nikolav. Nice to meet you.”

  Jesus, these guys were large. Did they grow them in a special farm in Russia for fighters? She grinned inwardly. Wouldn’t that be a sight?

  She was relieved Mikhail didn’t continue to handle her so intimately now that they were in the apartment. She wasn’t ready to deal with whatever they were to each other publically.

  Hell, she didn’t even know yet what they were to each other. Two people experiencing lust under an intense situation?

  She wasn’t about to discount that possibility.

  The tiny blonde woman who approached Haley next had to be Alena. She resembled her brother in hair and eye color. They shared several features—the same nose and eye shape. “You must be Haley,” she said as she leaned in and hugged Haley close.

  When she stepped back, Haley smiled. She liked her instantly. “I am. You must be Alena.”

  “That’s me.”

  Katie was pulling chairs in from the attached kitchen. She spun them around to face the enormous, black leather sectional sofa.

  Grabbing a chair was an excellent idea. It would keep Mikhail from pawing her. She made her way across the room, leaving him standing in his spot, and lifted another black, wooden chair from the kitchen table. When she plopped down in it, she met his gaze across the room.

  He narrowed his eyes, not overlooking her slight.

  She tucked her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting and turned toward Leo who stood in front of the entertainment center facing the couch. In her peripheral vision, she saw Mikhail take a seat on one side of the sectional. The other three guys plopped down too.

  Leo remained standing. “It’s been a while since we were all in the same room, yeah?” He glanced around at the men.

  “Too bad Dmitry can’t be here.” Mikhail chuckled.

  Leo’s gaze darted toward Mikhail, but then moved to Katie. It was obvious to Haley, and anyone with half a brain, that he adored her and didn’t like her out of his sight for a moment.

  Haley glanced at Mikhail. His stare was on her, just as possessive. Fierce. Was he angry? She hoped not. She didn’t want to argue with him. She simply wasn’t ready to make some sort of public statement that they were a couple.

  She didn’t even know if that was true yet. Two intense kisses that knocked her off her feet didn’t make a relationship. Mikhail hadn’t promised anything of the sort anyway.

  “Oh,” Leo snapped his fingers and reached behind him to grab a stack of papers, “before I forget…” He handed them to Mikhail at one end of the couch and nodded toward the other guys. “Pass those around.”

  Mikhail snickered when he got his. “Since when do we need a typed schedule of events? Did Abram make this? Does he think we don’t know when we’re each fighting next?”

  Haley sat closest to Sergei and could see it was a calendar for the month with practices during the week and fights on the weekends.

  Leo rolled his eyes. “It’s just a decoy.” He pointed at Mikhail. “When you leave here, accidentally drop yours in the parking garage near your usual spot.”

  “Got it.” Mikhail chuckled again, folded the paper haphazardly in half and then again, and stuffed it in his back pocket.

  “A decoy for what?” Sergei asked.

  “For the reason we’re really gathered
. Since you and Nikolav just got here, the rest of us need to bring you up to speed on a few things.”

  “Like what?” Nikolav asked.

  Leo held up a hand to keep Nikolav from speaking again. “Hear me out. You and Sergei have only been in Chicago a short time, so I’m going to bring you into the fold and catch you up on what’s happening in the Windy City.”

  Sergei set his schedule on the coffee table and leaned back. “You’re freaking me out. We came here to fight because it’s clear Abram is a much better manager than Yenin, and we need to make enough money to live off of.” He glanced at Ivan and Leo and then Mikhail. “Right?”

  “Absolutely.” Mikhail nodded. “And you won’t be disappointed. Abram knows this business better than anyone in town. I’ve made more money fighting in the past year than in the previous several combined. Don’t worry about that.”

  Leo cleared his throat and took over. “That’s not what I’m here to discuss. In a nutshell, I’ve been an informant for the FBI for two years.”

  “You’re shitting me? Like undercover?” Sergei jumped off the couch.

  Leo shook his head. “Not that glamorous. No. They picked me up one night in Vegas and didn’t give me much choice. I’ve been passing them information about Yenin since then.”

  “So this is about Anton?” Nikolav rolled his eyes. “Of course. I should have known something was up. The man’s been acting weirder by the day.”

  Leo continued, “It’s no secret he’s up to something and has been for a long time.”

  Sergei snickered. “Of course he’s up to something. He’s the Russian Mafia. What do you expect?”

  Leo smiled. “Well, it’s much bigger than what you see. He’s got a lab in Vegas cooking up God only knows what and one here in Chicago doing presumably the same thing. I’m sure he has several others on this side of the country too.”

  “And we’ve always known that too,” Sergei added.

  “Well, the reality is it ain’t just meth.” Leo added.

  “What the fuck is it?” Nikolav asked.

  “Don’t know. But the FBI is working to get to the bottom of it. I’m sure he’s cooking meth on the side as a cover up. He has to be making money doing something. But that’s not what the FBI is interested in.”

 

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