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We go down a hall, and then in through a steel door.
The space is small, intimate with a lot of gold, black, and red. There’s a bar on one wall, a curved sofa and chair, a low-slung table and a stage. On it are a pair of the kinkiest ruby heels I’ve ever seen next to a gold tube, all under a spotlight.
“Nikolai, this looks like a strip club.”
He nods. “It is. I own it.”
“A strip club?”
“This is one of the private event rooms.”
I glare, but he closes the door and grins that sleazy smile of his.
“I own a lot of businesses, as do you. Now, get up on that fucking stage, put on the fucking shoes and lipstick, and give me a show.” With that, he turns, strips off his jacket, and pours himself a drink at the bar.
We might be alone, but it feels like there’s a thousand eyes on me. This is another game—another push to find my limits.
I take off the overcoat and look down at my outfit.
Fine. If he wants a show, I’m giving him one.
The kind he’ll never forget.
Chapter9
Nikolai
Ifucking need this. When it comes to Rose, I always need it. Whatever she’s selling, I’m buying. She’s salvation and damnation at the same time. I told her before that she’s safety onandoff, but I’m beginning to think she’s a new kind of weapon.
When I finish the whiskey, I pour another. In the mirror behind the bar, she’s moving about on the stage. She sends a glare my way that should annoy the fuck out of me, but it just amuses me instead.
That’s the thing with her, what makes her so utterly deadly. She doesn’t just turn the expected on just on its head. No, she decimates it.
Right now, the hotel room is being swept clean; Rush is set to not just be cleared, but free and on his way home, and I got the go-ahead on a tricky step.
Adelaide’s going to free him anyway, but I don’t want the risk of her delaying. Even with his impending freedom, that unfamiliar fucking knot of unease and worry twists my gut before I burn it away with another swallow of whiskey. His freedom needs to be orchestrated, all the elements just right.
If it is, I’ll have Rush in Italy and out of reach before the FBI even knows what happened.
As soon as this other plan I put in motion happens.
But none of that’s happening right now.
Instead, we’re here, in this gentleman’s club that I’ve owned forever. Rose is…Rose is fucking Rose: sweet, deadly perfection encased in innocence and a sensuality that can bring me to my knees.
I need this distraction.
I need her, and fuck, does she look gorgeous.
Dark hair, red lips, red heels, long legs in the sheerest black and… She’s business dirty. She’s hot sex.
The small skirt might be the first to go, but I’d love her to keep the tie and button down, one of mine, on.
Just for a bit.
She pulls on the pole, and I reach over the bar, pull out the remote control and the stack of money, and then watch as she stands there. I hit play, and the music, a new take on bump and grind with a dirty jazz edge, fills the room. The lights dim, making the stage—and Rose—front and center.
Yeah, I’m already fucking hard.
