“I have sex,” he answered.
I blinked confused while warmth rushed to the pit of my stomach and spread through me like wildfire. I inhaled slowly. Released it. My skin came to life. It buzzed with a dark sin and elusive timbre.
A shiver ghosted through me, and I marveled at the odd reaction. I had never experienced a reaction like this to another human being.
“Do you?” His gaze flicked with something heavy and emotionless. His voice was professional and disinterested, a cold tenor of it freezing me to the bones, but the meaning behind them set me ablaze.
Jesus Christ! The man would fuck up my body temperature.
And I was supposed to go to a sex club with him. Yeah, I didn't think so. My ass would freeze being too close to him. And if he touched me, I’d turn into an ice statue. Or maybe he’d burn me alive because the blue flames that lurked in his eyes burned hotter than any normal fire.
“There has to be another way,” I tried another approach. “Maybe we can go undercover as some of the staff.”
I held my breath for his answer, but it never came. I sighed. This man was difficult; I knew it without a doubt. And the reaction I had around him was the most disturbing of all.
“Listen, going undercover with you will never work. I have a partner,” I told him. Was I stretching it a bit? Yes, but he didn’t know that. “Usually, my partner and I are on the same wavelength. It will be believable with him.”
Yuck, just thinking about Jackson touching me made me uncomfortable. Besides, he was married, so that would be a problem. Yet, somehow he felt like a safer option than this guy.
“Your partner has been reassigned.” My eyebrows shot up. How did he know that? I only found out an hour ago.
Our gazes locked. A shiver ghosted through me and an audible gulp sounded in the room. It was mine.
Sex club and Alexei Nikolaev in the same sentence was a bad idea. Never mind attending the actual sex club. This man had bad news written all over him. I mean, just look at the ink. Who in the fucking hell tattooed their face? Certainly nobody I knew.
Hell, men I dated didn’t ink any part of their skin. They were clean cut.
Yet, none of them ever impacted me like Alexei. His stance oozed power and confidence. He knew he’d get his way and I resented it. He was overwhelmingly big. Too tall. Too bulky. Too something that just didn’t work for me.
My eyes traveled over his wide shoulders. He wore a black t-shirt again. It fit him like a second skin. This time instead of back cargo pants, he wore black jeans. Reluctantly, I had to admit he looked good in jeans. They molded to his toned body. His muscled arms covered in ink would probably overpower most men on this Earth, never mind little old me. I worked out, jogged almost daily. Yet, I knew without a doubt, there was no chance of overpowering this guy. Even with a weapon on me, I couldn’t beat him. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead.
And I’m supposed to go to a freaking sex club with him. No way. No how. I’d end up dead, never to be heard from again. A statistic. My brother didn’t save me so I’d end up on another chopping block.
“So what do you expect to happen at this sex club?” I breathed. My imagination was in overdrive. I’d never been, though I heard plenty about them.
“We’ll pretend to be a couple and get invited to another event that will get us closer to our target.”
Okay, it was a better explanation than I expected. “And we’ll just-” I swallowed hard, unable to utter the words. “Just question people.”
“No, we’ll pretend to be a couple and participate.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Participate?” I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper. “In sexual activities.” When he didn’t answer, I added, “I don’t know about you, but I am definitely not having sex with strangers.”
A shadow passed his face but it was so fleeting; I wasn’t sure if maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.
“It’s a couple’s sex club,” he said, icily like that explained it all. “Couples have sex in it, not strangers.”
I gulped. Maybe gasped too, while my heart went into some kind of overdrive. “Have sex with you?”
Why is my voice so goddamn shaky?
“If it comes to that.” Alexei might as well be discussing weather.
“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” I muttered, pushing both my hands through my hair.
What if I never came back? The Nikolaev men were criminals. On the FBI radar but always skimming around it. And now they found a way to get the FBI to work with them. No, not with them. For them.
There was no code or trust among criminals. They’d dispose of me when they were done with me.