Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
God, taunting her was so much fun.
She stood there shaking as she weighed her options, and I couldn't wait to see what she was going to do next.
"Give me money," she blurted out.
Out of all the things that she could have possibly said, those words hadn't even crossed my mind. Maybe that was what I was so enthralled by with my little kitten. She kept me guessing. It was refreshing.
Everyone else was so predictable. So boring.
"What?"
"I just need enough to leave town. You'll never see me again. I won't be an inconvenience at all. It will be like we never met." The words tumbled out of her lips and slammed into me like bricks.
Never see her again?
Like we had never met?
The idea tightened my chest, my heart beating a little faster.
My teeth ground down, and my fists tightened over the arms of the chair.
That was not a fucking option.
Alina was a loose end. Loose ends didn't survive in the Russian mafia.
I knew this. Killing her was the best option. Her suggestion, the second best…though it was missing an element of mutual destruction.
Still, after what she saw, paying her off wasn't enough.
There was too much at stake, too much damage she could do if she talked to the wrong person.
I could analyze it all day, but I knew that wasn't the real reason I wasn't going to let her go.
I leaned back, spreading my arms along the top of the low chair and kicking my legs out, making myself comfortable. "No."
Her face crumpled. "Please."
"I do so love it when you beg. Maybe I'll consider it. If you dance for me."
She blinked at me, stunned for a moment. "What?"
"You heard me," I said.
The corners of my lips pulling into a sly smile, I gestured to the small, raised stage surrounded by mirrors. "You want me to consider paying you and letting you go. I want a dance. Maybe you'll convince me the world would be a dimmer place without your beauty to illuminate it."
Her eyes widened again, the tops of her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted. Teasing her was just too much fun.
Alina shook her head violently, her brown curls bouncing around her face, the sweet scent of her shampoo filling the room. "No, I'm not one of the—"
As she argued, I picked up the remote for the sound system off to the side and made my selection. The first twangs of a familiar song drifted from the speakers behind her.
Bruce Springsteen's I'm On Fire.
I gave her a cocky smirk.
She was stuck.
There was no escaping this.
The sooner she realized it, the easier her life was going to be.
I had caught her.
She was mine. That meant she was going to do as I demanded.
"Dance."
Alina hesitated for a moment. Then her eyes flicked down to the gun that was resting on my thigh, my hand still gripped around the base, my finger laying along the slide.
Fear flickered across her features. Her hands trembled at her sides, but she lifted her chin and swallowed before stepping onto the platform.
The only sound in the room was the music coming from the speakers, and the low thump from the music outside the curtain. Otherwise it was quiet.
I didn't want it too loud. I wanted to see if I could hear her heart race from across the tiny room.
The bass line thumped softly, hypnotic and compelling as she tentatively lifted her arms, unsure of the movements or what to do. Then her hips swayed. It was barely noticeable at first, my jacket hiding most of her movements, but she followed the rhythm of the music.
As the music pulsed through the room, something changed. Her eyes closed briefly, surrendering to the rhythm despite herself. My gaze locked on the gentle sway of her hips, the way her throat worked as she swallowed nervously. Despite her fear—or perhaps because of it—my cock strained against my pants, demanding attention I refused to give it. Not yet.
Watching her dance was exquisite torture. Each small movement revealed another glimpse of the curves I intended to claim. The slight arch of her back, the way she bit her lower lip in concentration—all of it stirred something primal in me. The way she moved wasn't practiced like the whores in this place. It was innocent, vulnerable...and infinitely more arousing.
Her moves were clumsy, unpracticed. I got the distinct impression that she was just copying moves she had seen the other girls do.
There was something about that fact that pleased me. I didn't want to know that other men had seen her dance for them. I should be the only one ever seeing her like this.
My body ached with the need to touch her, to pull her down onto my lap and hold that heat against me. But I restrained myself. This game was too delicious to rush.