Stretching my body out along the back of hers, I swept her long mane over her shoulder and bit her lobe before whispering in her ear, “I don’t ask women to fuck me. I tell them to, and they just do it because they can’t fucking resist me. Like you won’t be able to, tonight.”
She wiggled beneath me with a muffled protest, but I kept my body over hers in a sturdy but passionate way to create the illusion to others who might be watching that we were making out. “What’s your name, pretty Indian?”
When she stubbornly didn’t answer, I pulled on her twisted arm and she yelped, but the club music was loud enough to drown it out.
“I asked you a fucking question.”
“Nadia,” she squealed into the seat. “My name’s Nadia.”
“Are you a spy for the boss?”
“No,” she said right off the bat.
I pulled her arm tighter. “Tell me the fucking truth.Are youa spy for the boss?”
She whimpered. “No.”
“Then why are you the only one allowed upstairs?”
Her answer was slow in coming this time. “I…have sex with him.”—Too late to be true—”We have an arrangement, and whenever he comes here, it’s only for me to fulfill his sexual needs.”
This was possibly the worst lie I’ve ever heard. But she was loyal to her boss, and I could tell no matter what I did, she would in no way spit out the truth about spying for him. Despite not attracting me physically, her loyalty flattered me. If I hadn’t already shot my chance by twisting her arm, I could’ve tried coaxing her to replace Sydney. Spy or no.
I released her arm, and she let out a loud exhalation, sagging beneath me. But I wasn’t done with her. I wanted her tonight.
Snaking my hand around to her pelvis, I urged her up until she was on her knees. Placing my palm flat on her stomach, I pressed her back against me and kissed across her shoulder blade.
When she didn’t protest or fight me off, but instead emitted a soft moan, I drifted my hand down her stomach and teased my fingertips along the edges of her lingerie bottom. Still, she didn’t fight me off, her breathing kicking up.
Recognizing a green light when I saw one, I dipped inside her lingerie bottom and was surprised to find her soaking wet.
Smiling at the discovery, I brought my mouth to her ear again. “So you’re a spy for the boss,andyou secretly want me.”
She denied neither.
Slowly, gently, coaxingly, I licked up the side of her neck. I needed her to forgive me for hurting her, so I could steal her from under Chad, make her my new bitch. Piss him off. “You want me to take you in the back, don’t you, Nadia? You want to feel my mouth on you, kissing you, licking you, petting you?” As she opened her mouth to answer, I added, “Thetruth.”
The breath she drew in was frail and shaky as she answered, “Yes…but…”
“But what, Nadia?”
“The boss,” she breathed out in a heavy exhalation as I rubbed my fingers over her clit, and back. Over, and back.
“He sent me…He sent me for you…”
My fingers stopped working. Chad was here? “What?”
Trying to regain her composure, Nadia delivered the message less breathy this time: “He wants you to meet him in the Chill Room. He’s already there waiting for you.”
My heart pounded, hard, loud, and I felt the sudden urge to run. Fast. Because the pounding of my heart wasn’t from fear or fright. But from something else entirely. Something I couldn’t quite name yet. Something I didn’t understand. “W-why?”
“I don’t know.”
Shoving her down again, I flipped her over on her back and straddled her. She wasn’t scared this time, however. She was turned on, dazed. “You’re his spy. And I know the boss is a dangerous man. So tell me the truth. Am I in danger?”
Nadia’s eyes glazed over, her face nothing but a picture of sex and hunger as she watched my lips, hers parting.
“You want me to kiss you, Nadia?”
