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I can tell she’d be a challenge. The defiance in those cat-like, caramel-brown eyes wouldn’t easily be tamed, but damn it’d be fun to try. I’d love to wrap that long dark hair around my fist and see how deep her rebellion runs.
However, just as I force myself to look away, their voices grow louder and more heated.
“I said, no!” she shouts.
Those words call to the darkest part of my soul, and my gaze snaps toward her just in time to see the man’s palm smack her ass. I stand, ready to show this bastard some manners when the waitress slams the liquor bottle she’s holding onto the table, then grabs his hand, twisting it so hard, even I shudder.
“Seth,” she hisses, “do I come to your house and roll around naked in your blow?”
I arch an eyebrow. Well, this just got interesting.
He smirks up at her. “No.”
Leaning a palm on the table, she pins him with an icy smile. “Then you’ll afford the owners of this place the same respect. If you want to touch the merchandise, then show me the cash. Otherwise, keep your hands to yourself. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He laughs hysterically, giving her four repetitive salutes.
She rolls her eyes, flipping him off as she walks away. “Iisus Khristos. Idi na hui.”
The idiot groans, his dilated eyes following her swaying ass. “That sounds so hot.”
“She told you to go fuck yourself, mudak,” I mutter.
The rhythmic click of her heels stops, and she swivels her chin over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
CHAPTER THREE
ZASHA
I glare at the expressionless man sitting at the table by himself. It’s not uncommon for someone to know Russian around here, considering who owns the club, but I’ve never seen his face before.
And it’s definitely one I’d remember.
Something about this man doesn’t sit right with me.
Gripping the bottle and other provisions, I saunter over to his table and slide into the chair across from him. “I asked you a question.”
“I do not wish to have company.”
“That’s too bad.” I set the liquor bottle down, followed by two shot glasses. “And also not the answer I asked for.”
If he thinks he can intimidate me with a glare and a growl, he can fuck right off.
Clasping his hands together, he leans forward, his voice deep and flat. “Perhaps I was unclear. I wish to be left alone and to not have my privacy invaded.”
Ignoring his brush off, I pour the clear liquid into the glasses. “Well, that ship sailed about thirty seconds ago when you invaded mine. Besides, maybe company is what you need to loosen up.” I tilt my chin at his hard expression. “Because frankly, I don’t know what’s clenched tighter, your hands or your ass.”
The muscles in his neck strain. “Do you not have other tables to serve?”
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I study him. I don’t trust Russians. Mainly, because I am one. Plus, the ones who frequent Seven are regular patrons or business associates. I know them by face, if not by name. But this guy is new, and in my world, new can be deadly.
My father would have my ass if he knew I was roaming the main floor of the club alone.
Lowering my lashes, I risk a shrewd glance across the table. Nobody’s here to stop me or question my authority.
Screw it.
“Not at the moment,” I offer with a slow smile. “Now do I get my answer?”
