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“Sit down and relax,” Maddox says easily. He’s stretched out on the bed, hands laced behind his head, ready to go. A game show plays on the television and a thick book lays beside him. “You know they’re gonna take forever.”
Yeah, I do. I grab the chair at the small table by the window, drag it over and sit down. Just as I’m about to ask Maddox what he’s reading, the door clicks open and Sailor walks in first. But my attention moves past her and when Lake steps into view, my mouth drops open.
For a moment, I can only blink, unable to look away from the vision. Snapping my mouth shut, I force myself to get a grip and hope I don’t look like a cartoon character with its eyes popping out of its sockets. But, Christ Almighty, the preschool teacher has turned into some sultry, tempting and very naughty version of Princess Leia.
And I’m talking about Golden Bikini Leia.
I’m pretty sure my brain briefly malfunctions as my gaze travels immediately to her open fur coat which does nothing to cover the shimmering bra top that barely conceals a pair of very full, luscious breasts that are currently overflowing from the cups. My mouth waters and my dick goes rock hard. Her stomach is flat and her waist nips in just before that tempting flare of hips. Skintight leggings tucked into thigh-high black boots showcase her lower half and a long brown wig, smokey eye makeup and dangling rhinestone earrings complete the club girl look.
Words escape me, but I snap back to reality when I hear Sailor snicker. I don’t know whether to kill her or give her a raise for this little stunt. I clear my throat and slowly stand up, my gaze sliding back up to lock onto Lake’s brown-sugar eyes. I’d love to drag her down to my room, toss her onto my bed and do wicked things to her, but we have a mission to accomplish.
“Everything okay, Dash?” Sailor asks.
My jaw clenches and I can’t miss the amusement in her voice. “Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.”
Walking down to the elevator is both an unbelievable delight and sheer torture. I hang back slightly, walking beside Maddox, so I can savor every step Lake takes. My eyes are glued to her ass which is on full display in those fitted leggings and with every sway of her hips, it gets harder for me to walk straight.
Damn, I’m ready to blow. Sailor keeps whispering into Lake’s ear and they start giggling about something. My curiosity is at an all-time high and I’m wondering what they’re talking about when Maddox nudges me with his elbow. He gives me a smirk and in a low voice says, “The Force is strong with this one.”
“Shut it, Maddox,” I growl as we all step into the elevator. The close confines just make it worse because the girls continue their giggling and my hard-on is ready to tear through my pants. I position my clasped hands in front of my zipper to hide the raging evidence.
Yeah, I could kill my meddling employees.
Downstairs, we get into the SUV that Maddox and Sailor rented. Maddox drives and Sailor sits in the passenger seat while Lake and I sit in the back. She seems a little nervous and that’s completely natural before your first op, so I try to ease her worry, grateful for something to focus on other than her pert ass.
“Hey,” I say in a low voice. “All good?”
She nods. “I’m not too, ah, scantily dressed, am I?” she whispers back.
Of course, my gaze drops to her tantalizing breasts and I force myself to look away. “It’s a Euro dance club. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”
A part of me wants to compliment her and tell her that she looks absolutely amazing, but that would be completely unprofessional. So I try to look at anything else other than her delectable rack for the next 15 minutes.
It might be the fucking hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do.
By the time we arrive atDiscoteca del Fuoco,I’ve got my hard-on under control and I’m ready to play the part of Gregory Mancini, a slick arms dealer interested in getting his hands on the Tantium Force. Once Ryan created a profile for me, he tossed out some breadcrumbs to deepen my cover. If Caruso tries to look me up on the Dark Web, he’ll find an accomplished smuggler who sells military-grade weapons to the highest bidders.
As a smuggler, I’d also like to brag that I can complete the kessel run in less than 12 parsecs. But I should probably keep that bit of geeky trivia to myself.
I slip my comms unit into my ear as Sailor and Maddox do the same. Lake doesn’t need one because she’s not leaving my side. If I could cuff her to me, I would, but that seems a little too much for a first date. My protective instincts are on high right now and after getting out of the car, I walk around to her and reach for her hand.
Lake’s russet brows shoot up, surprised by the move, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Don’t forget, we’re a couple.” I lean down, my lips grazing her ear and add, “And in that outfit, you can count on me letting everyone else in the room know that you’re mine.”
She releases a shaky breath and I lace my fingers through hers, guiding her toward the front door. While Sailor and Maddox veer right, I pull Lake forward, skipping the massive line of club goers waiting to get inside, and walk straight up to the colossal hulk of a bouncer guarding the door.
“Gregory Mancini for Giancarlo Caruso,” I say, playing the part of the cool, confident arms dealer.
He nods and motions for us to follow him inside. As we step over the threshold, my senses are assaulted by flashing lights, loud music pumping out of endless speakers and the pungent smell of marijuana. People writhe on the dance floor to the throbbing beats the DJ is spinning from the stage. The club is a stimulating, barely-controlled environment that pulses with sex and lust. It’s sensory overload, but I easily tune it out. The majority of my career was spent tuning out gunfire, so this is easy.
The Hulk escorts us past the dance floor, a bar and then by the thumping stage at the exact moment a timed fireball erupts from a black cauldron creating a spectacular pyrotechnic display. A spark shoots off the stage and I cringe internally, surprised this place hasn’t caught fire and burned to the ground yet. As the bouncer leads us up a back staircase, I search for a fire extinguisher but don’t see one.
When we reach the top and start down a short hallway, Sailor and Maddox check in through my earpiece, alerting me to their positions in the club. I’m not sure how they got in so fast, but they must’ve snuck in somewhere to avoid waiting in that endless line outside. I’m not surprised in the least.
After opening a door, the Hulk nods for us to step inside and I see a man standing in front of a tinted window, gazing down over his club. As he turns around, I know without a doubt that Giancarlo Caruso loves sitting up here in his domain, watching the people below, and probably eyeing all of the young women, eventually deciding who gets the pleasure of his company up here.
My jaw clenches. I hate scum like Caruso. They spend their entire lives being treated like a king and surround themselves with decadence, pretending to be a real business owner. But, in reality, he’s making his millions on the black market by selling stolen weapons and cutting-edge tech gear to the highest bidder. And he doesn’t care at all if his buyer is a terrorist.
