She didnt stop to think about it. She went with her reflex reaction and slapped Ashes cheek with all her might.
Vitaly surged halfway to his feet, swearing and apologizing as words tumbled out of his mouth in a garbled jumble. But it was Ashes reaction that shocked her. He stared up at her in stunned disbelief for a heartbeat and then threw his head back and laughed. Heartily.
Sit, sit, Vitaly, he chortled in Russian. I like my women a little wild. Its more fun that way to tame them.
Her gaze narrowed. As if he would ever tame her. Hah!
Vitaly sank back into his chair, but he was looked genuinely angry and glared at her with a grim promise of serious retribution when Ashe left this place. So much for looking out for her best interests. Heck, for all she knew, her boss might drag her upstairs by the hair and let the clients do their worst to her. Her insides turned to jelly and her entire being quailed at the thought of what could happen to her up there. They could shoot her up with heroin until she was hooked, lock her into a room in the brothel...
Who would come looking for her? There was no one to rescue her from the hellhole Vitaly could throw her into. She would be lost. And now that Max was gone, not a living soul would care.
...dont let women slap me without punishment, Ashe was saying in Russian. He leaned back in his chair, tossed back a shot of the expensive vodka and grinned at Vitaly. How do you propose I do that, my friend?
Vitaly scowled. Id beat her until she couldnt sit for a week.
Ashe tilted his head to one side and studied her while she defiantly glared back at him. Nah. Shes got fair skin. She would bruise like mad. Someone would call the cops on you.
Vitaly jerked his chin at her. What would you do to punish her?
A slow smile unfolded on Ashes face. You want her to work in the lap dance lounge, yes?
Aghast, she stared at him. He was not actually going to throw her to the wolves like this, was he? Ashe was supposed to be one of the good guys! Worse, she wasnt supposed to know Russian, so she couldnt respond in any way to this little exchange between the men.
Yes, of course, Vitally answered a little too eagerly. Apparently he wasnt so drunk that hed missed where Ashe was going with his line of reasoning, either. Dammit.
Ashe asked in English, How about I teach her how to do a decent lap dance?
It was Vitalys turn to throw back his head and laugh. Done.
No way she began.
Vitaly surged to his feet and grabbed a fistful of her hair at the back of her neck, yanking her head violently and forcing her to endure his fetid breath in her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ashe tense. You make my friend happy, or I will take you upstairs and put you to work up there. Understood?
She tried to nod, but even the smallest movement of her head caused her hair to pull painfully against his fist. He leaned in closer to growl, Do what this man says or Ill make you pay.
Terror roared through her. It was her worst nightmare. She was going to get sucked into the abyss and never escape Vitalys clutches. And it was all Ashes fault, damn him. Why, oh, why did he have to show up here and mess up everything?
Ashe surged out of his chair, his big fist suddenly encompassing Vitalys at her neck. Let the lady go. His voice was low and cold and dripped with violence.
Vitaly shoved her at Ashe. Be a good girl and show the nice man how very sorry you are.
Ashe caught her as she half fell against him. He set her gently back on her feet and loomed close beside her, never releasing her arm just above the elbow. Come along, naughty little girl. His words might be what Vitaly wanted to hear, but his tone was soothing.
Without further ado, he led her over to the lap dance lounges entrance. The bouncer opened it, grinning, and Ashe ushered her into what surely was a special corner of hell.
What little lighting there was in the lounge came from red bulbs shrouded in colored scarves that hung from the ceiling and fat black candles dripping in sconces around the walls. Necklaces of bones, snakeskins, animal skulls and braids of herbs decorated the kidney-colored walls. The place reeked of incense and pot and sweat, and maybe a hint of blood. A rooster even clucked quietly in a small cage on a table off to one side of the room. More drippy candles, dried chicken feet and knives lay on the table beside the live chicken. Small curtained alcoves lined the room, and a row of chairs filled its center.
Ashe led her to an alcove with the curtain pulled back and ushered her inside. He yanked the cloth shut behind them. A low armless chair stood against the wall, and he smirked at her before turning her arm loose and plunking down on it.
She whispered furiously, You dont seriously expect me to do this, do you?
He murmured back sotto voce, I seriously expect that there are cameras in here, and that your boss will be watching. Im not exactly thrilled about the position youve put me in, either. You really shouldnt have slapped me. At least not in front of a misogynistic chauvinist like your boss.
What did you expect me to do? she said with a hiss. Let him manhandle me like that and treat me like a piece of meat he can give to whomever he wants?
I expected you to trust me. Id have seen to it the bastard gets whats coming to him and Id have gotten you out of there without this little detour.
She swore under her breath. He was, of course, right. It was her own impulsive nature and stupid temper that had put her in this pickle.
Ill fake it if you will, he muttered.
Right. Fake it. But fake what? As if she had any idea how to do a lap dance. The subject had not been covered in any of her art history classes in college. Scowling, she scooted forward until her knees bumped against his shins.
He smiled. Go for it, baby.
Youre going to hell for this, she grumbled.
His grin widened, and he leaned back in the chair a little. Ahh, but what a way to go. I dare you. Give me your best shot.
Oh, a dare, was it? That changed things. Glaring fiercely at him, she threw her leg across his hips and plopped down on his lap. He tensed beneath her as her lady parts passed across the zipper of his jeans.
Crud. Now what? She was undoubtedly supposed to engage in some sort of bump-and-grind routine next. After all, it was called a lap dance. But that left a whole lot to the imagination by way of technical details.
Experimentally she tilted her hips forward and then back. Oh, my. That felt rather nice. She tried it again. Her nervous tension eased a little, and this time it felt even better.
That all you got? Ashe murmured in obvious amusement.
Concentrating intensely, she tried circling her hips to the left. Ooh, that was interesting. And better, unwilling heat flared in Ashes eyes. Quite a bit of heat, in fact. If she wasnt mistaken, the region behind his zipper was getting harder. More enthusiastically, she circled back to the right.
This may not be the right moment to mention it, but most lap dancers do it facing away from the guy. It costs extra to get a full frontal. I expect the girls dont want to get their chests grabbed, nor do they want to be tongued or kissed.
She sprang to her feet, outraged. You let me writhe all over your lap the wrong way?
I didnt say it was wrong. Just more suggestive than usual.
You are such. A. Jerk.
His voice dropped so low she could barely hear it over the Jamaican music blaring from hidden speakers overhead. No, baby. Its called protecting your cover. Vitalys going to be watching us when we leave here. And Id better have a hard-on and youd better be embarrassed all to hell when we walk out of here if you want either of us to make it out of this club alive.
Of course he was right. Darn it. How in the heck do you know so much about this stuff, anyway? she demanded, chagrined.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. Im not exactly a teenaged virgin. Of course, I dont generally have to pay for what I want from women, either.
She glared at him a moment more, then whirled around and backed onto his lap. Her toes barely reached the floor, and she overbalanced slightly. His hands came up to clasp her hips. He didnt do anything crude like pull her down onto his male parts, but he did steady her until she regained her balance.
Ashe shifted beneath her. Abruptly, warm breath caressed her neck. He must have taken pity on her because he murmured, Most girls squat over the guy and keep their weight on their feet, which is why this chair is so low and has no arms. That way, the girl can pull away if the guy gets fresh with her. Then the girls twerk a little.
I dont know how to twerk, she wailed under her breath.
It basically involves relaxing your rear end and shaking it up and down. Dont worry about it. The view Im getting is fine just the way it is.
Thank God she had a skirt on. And stockings. And panties. This was embarrassing enough without her having her rear end hanging out of a skimpy thong.
My thighs are burning.
Then sit down on me, silly. He gave a little tug, and her tired legs gave out. She plopped down unceremoniously on his lap. She lurched, but he held her in place with that easy, overwhelming strength of his.
I cannot believe youre making me do this. Her mouth was saying one thing, but her body was starting to say something else entirely. It wasnt all bad having her hips nestled in his lap. His zipper bulged against parts of her shed never...rubbed...against anyone before. The intimacy of it was staggering.
Shed had sex, of course. She was twenty-five, after all. But never like this. Shed never been the type blatantly to take control of the sex, or to be...naughty...about it. Okay, so she was a prude. There. Shed said it. Or at least thought it very loudly.
Ashe relaxed beneath her, seemingly completely at ease with having a woman squirming around on his lap. But she felt vulnerable. Terribly exposed. Even though her miniskirt flared around both of their hips, hiding most of what was going on underneath it.
Move your hips like this, he instructed, guiding her hips through a slow figure eight. You can rock like before or do those circles you were doing, too.
This is hard, she complained.
A low chuckle rumbled behind her. I believe hard is the point.
She looked over her shoulder to roll her eyes at him.
He grinned. Just sayin.
Behave.
He shrugged. Its not like either of us has any choice here. If I dont have a grin on my face or a pronounced limp, Vitalys going to try to hurt you. And since Im not about to let him do that, all hell will break loose.
So youre not enjoying this? She didnt know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Well, now, I didnt say that, he drawled. I think if you put a little enthusiasm into it, maybe pretended I was your boyfriend, you might have a future in the profession.
Imagine him as her boyfriend, huh? That wasnt much of a stretch. The memory of his magnificent naked chest in her apartment last night popped into her head. Nope. Not a stretch at all. Let alone the steamy dreams of him that had disrupted her sleep.
She realized with a start that she was moving more sensuously against him, enjoying the feel of him growing restless beneath her. Tense. Hungry.
He was faking it, of course, which was really sweet of him. Warming up to the ruse a little more, she let her mind wander into a pleasant fantasy of the two of them together.
They would be in a beautiful old room with antique furniture, hardwood floors and white gauze curtains. The big four-poster bed would have fat pillows and white linen sheets. A fan would turn lazily overhead, stirring the sultry air. They would make love slowly. Easily. With aching tenderness that gradually turned into raging, sweaty passion...
Okay, then, Ashe ground out. That should be enough to shut up your boss.
She stilled abruptly. Ohmigosh. Her hips had been undulating all over the place. Shed been riding him like a total hussy.
Im sorry she started.
Hush, he muttered, cutting her off. Vitaly will be delighted. A pause, and then he added wryly, Too delighted. Bastards gonna want to put you to work back here after that performance. He swore quietly as he lifted her off his lap.
She turned to face him, surprised that he hadnt stood up already. But a quick, unwilling glance at his lap revealed the source of his delay. His zipper strained to contain the raging erection behind it. Hed been genuinely turned on by her lap dance? I didnt suck, then? she blurted.
A short bark of laughter slipped out of him. You did not suck.
He gritted his teeth and visibly reached for self-control. Sympathetically she suggested, Think about your grandmother. Church. An ice-cold shower.
Another laugh, this time a little pained. Ive got this, thanks. Just give me a second.
She turned her back to give him a little privacy to get his body under control. It was more like a minute, but he eventually rose to his feet behind her. He leaned close, his big body radiating heat against her spine. Dont argue with me when I talk to Vitaly. I have a plan.
Now what on earth did that mean?