Fight or Flight (Fire & Vice Book 2) Read online

  She did indeed look ready to commit murder now. And still his penis was stiff as fuck, begging him to make nice with her. The way she stood, the way she pursed her lips. Even annoyed he wanted to kiss her and force her little body to take more orgasms from him.

  “Okay, look Anya, let’s just talk,” he said, in what he hoped was a conciliatory tone instead of the tone of a man who knew he was about to suffer blue balls, but still wanted, pathetically, to be near the object of his lust.

  She looked pointedly down at his cock and raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, okay, I’ll put some clothes on. Then we can talk.” He turned to reach for the boxer briefs, jeans and T-shirt he’d placed on the bench before his shower.

  The moment his back was turned he felt a rush of cold air across his bare ass as she flung the locker room door open and bolted. He should have known. The woman was a box full of contradictions mixed with a bratty mouth and a sexy as fuck body.

  Ash growled and sent his fist into a nearby locker, bending the metal. He was going to find out exactly who mystery woman was. Find out where she lived and everything about her. Hopefully once he did that, he would be calm enough to play the wooing game until she admitted she wanted him as bad as he wanted her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  What had she been thinking? Anya shoved the door to her favourite midnight coffee haunt open with a huff.

  Honestly, teasing a cage fighter and then taking off, leaving him with a dick that could pound wood. She hadn’t meant to make out with the guy. He was just so arrogant and masculine, with a body built like a tank and a deep voice that probably made panties drop everywhere he went. Who could blame a girl for getting a little carried away?

  Anya dropped into a chair, crossed her legs and tried not to squirm. Just the thought of Ash running naked through that change room after her had her body amping back up again, ready for more of those delicious orgasms. She had never felt anything near this level of attraction before and she wasn’t certain she liked it.

  “Thanks babe,” she said absently, when her friend Claudia placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of her.

  Claudia raised her eyebrow, sensing something was off with her usually chatty, sarcastic friend. Claudia’s ability to read people was how she made such a successful waitress in a bizarrely eclectic coffee shop catering to nighthawks, artists and gamers. The owner of the coffee shop had offered her partnership more than once, because she was so well loved by the patrons, but she always laughingly demurred. Anya never asked Claudia why she was content simply waiting tables, but she sensed a mystery surrounding her beautiful friend.

  Claudia searched Anya’s face and opened her mouth to comment when the shattering of plates interrupted what could have been a very awkward conversation. The two women were friendly, but they hadn’t made it to the ‘let’s share our sex lives over several bottles of wine’ stage yet.

  “Fuck,” Claudia grumbled, hands going to hips. “I blame Catan. That damn game gets more stuff busted in this place than a breakup fight.”

  Anya snickered as her friend bore down on the culprits. Claudia Cantore looked like a Greek Aphrodite statue with her tall, goddess-like frame and long blond hair. But when she was pissed off, no one was safe. Claudia could make a sailor’s ears bleed with her explosive temper.

  Preferring to daydream about tall, ripped and handsome, Anya let her mind drift while she absentmindedly blew on her hot chocolate. She wondered if Ash was thinking of her, and if his thoughts were amorous or murderous. She really had been there to vet him. Having heard Ash might be available for rent, her brother had sent her keen eye to the warehouse, along with several of his men. Thank god those guys hadn’t seen her slip into the change room. Or go running back out like a scalded cat. Blue balls would have been the least of Ash’s problems if her bother had gotten wind of that.

  “Anastasia Sitnikov?”

  Anya’s back went up immediately. She was always extremely careful to come to Knight’s Out café without the presence of her shadows. She had gotten very good at slipping away from them. So good, in fact, that her brother no longer bothered to have her guarded unless she was going someplace dangerous, like the cage fights.

  There was no reason for anyone around here to know who she was. Brows lowered dangerously, Anya swiveled in her chair to confront the idiot that was about to get tongue blasted. Or kicked in the junk. Or maybe both.

  Her frown turned to surprise. A very clean-cut, totally out of place, gorgeous in a no-nonsense-sort-of-way woman was standing behind her. She wore a pair of jeans, tan leather knee boots and a dark sweater. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and she wore no makeup.

  Anya sighed and began scowling again.

  A cop.

  “I have nothing to say,” Anya announced, swivelling back around.

  The woman walked around her table and dropped into the vacant seat, levelling a stern look at Anya. “But you are Anastasia Sitnikov, correct?”

  Anya rolled her eyes. “Christ, stop calling me that in public. Just Anya is fine.”

  The woman jerked her head in a nod. “Okay then, Anya. I’m Detective Jane McKinley,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Anya sighed and took the proffered hand, barely giving the tips of Jane’s fingers a squeeze before dropping her own hand back to the table.

  “I’m here to talk to you about your brother.”

  Anya snorted. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Sarcasm isn’t necessary Anya, I just have a few questions.”

  Anya laughed out loud. “Of course you do and yes it is. Without sarcasm I would probably be peeing myself right now.”

  Jane tried to look gentle. Anya could tell it wasn’t an emotion she was used to. Damn, she was starting to like the, what she suspected was, tough-as-nails cop.

  “You don’t have to worry Anya,” she said soothingly. “Anything you say to me will be kept completely confidential. No one is going to hurt you.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried for myself Janie.” Anya smiled sadly, enjoying the other woman’s flinch at the nickname. “I’m worried about what happens to you when my big brother discovers you searched me out and questioned me. He doesn’t take too kindly to any kind of threat to his sister. And while you don’t exactly pose a threat, he’s the shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy.”

  Jane sat up so straight her wooden chair scraped. She opened her mouth to speak, but Anya cut her off.

  “And no, I’m not threatening you, nor is my brother by extension. I’m giving you advice from one woman to another.” Anya took a long sip of her hot chocolate and said nonchalantly, “He secretly digs the professional ball-busting type. So if I were you, I’d fly under the radar where Vlad is concerned. Way under, if you know what I mean. Like, drop whatever it is you think you got on him, because you won’t make anything stick. Oh, and never, ever mention this little incident to anyone. Not even your cop buddies, because you just know some of those little piggies have got to be in his pocket. This town likes to talk and it could easily get back to him. He would love to get his hands on someone like you, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

  A slightly panicked look flashed across Jane’s face before she plastered her cop look back on.

  Well shit.

  “You’ve already talked to him, haven’t you?” Anya asked more seriously.

  Jane nodded, her eyes dropping from Anya’s for the first time. No direct stare from a cop? Oh, something happened between Jane McKinley and Vladimir Sitnikov. She would bet money on that. Very interesting.

  For the time being she had her own problems to ponder. Like how to recover from making a total ass of herself with Ash, and then get him on board with fighting for the Russians. Vlad wouldn’t be happy if he found out she’d lost their bid on the best up-and-coming fighter in the city. Especially if he found out how she’d scared Ash off.

  “Nice chatting with you,” Anya said brightly grabbing her camo purse an
d standing up. “Take my advice and either lay off my brother or move to another city.” Anya paused, considering. “Maybe another country, just to be safe! Do svidaniya Jane.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Anya cast a wicked look over the top of her hand, blew on her dice, and tossed them onto the table. She waited breathlessly. Everyone else watched to see how the dice would land, but her eyes were sweeping the casino for any sight of the spiky blond giant she’d come for.

  “Pair of fours,” said the dealer.

  Anya grinned and accepted congratulations from the tipsy cowboy who had glued himself to her side early in the evening. She had been steadily winning at the craps table, but not so much at her goal for the evening. Ash hadn’t made an appearance yet. She was beginning to wonder if he’d seen her and decided to ignore her, or if his boss had sent him on another errand. Khalid had many interests in the city. Ash could have been at any of those other establishments, acting as the boss man’s enforcer.

  Anya felt a hand slide under her very short skirt and squeeze her nearly bare ass. She sighed and, without turning, said as calmly as she could, “You’re going to want to remove that hand, buddy. Because if I have to remove it, you’ll be going to the hospital to get it reattached.”

  “Blarrgggggghhhhh…,” was the only response to her threat.

  Anya turned, surprise etching her features when she saw the man kneeling on the carpet, face twisted in pain. Ash towered over him, crushing the guy’s fingers in a lethal grip. Ash glared down at Anya, barely paying the whimpering cowboy any notice.

  “Oh… hey,” she said to the angry blond giant, then rolled her eyes at herself. Really clever, Anya.

  But geez, did the guy have to look so angry? It’s a free country. A girl could walk into a casino without causing a scene if she felt like it. He was pretty super hot when his eyebrows were glowering like that.

  “What are you doing here?” he gritted.

  And there went her hopes that he might be happy to see her.

  Huffing a little, Anya tossed her blue tipped hair over one shoulder and turned back to the table.

  “Winning,” she said pointedly.

  Before she could toss the dice, he had her upper arm and was pulling her back from the table. He nodded at the dealer. Anya stumbled against the guy kneeling at their feet, knocking his cowboy hat to the floor.

  “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled to the man whose face was twisted in pain. To Ash she said, “You can let the guy go now, Hulk. I think he’s learned a lesson.”

  Ash stared icily at the guy. She was pretty sure, if it were socially acceptable, he would have broken the guy’s fingers right there at the table. Anya would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bit tingly over his caveman attitude. She wanted to ask if it was her in particular, or just women in general that made him go all protective, but she figured this wasn’t the time.

  Ash let the guy go and growled, “Out.” The guy immediately jumped to his feet and booked it out of the casino as fast as he could. Anya felt sorry for the man. He really had been cute, in a puppyish way. Not her type, but she would have let him flirt. Once he had removed his hand from her ass that is.

  “Why are you here causing trouble in my place of work?” Ash asked, dragging her through the casino.

  “You’re kind of an ass, you know that?” she replied.

  “Excuse me if I’m not feeling particularly charitable, Anya,” he snorted. “Last time I saw you, I had to take a half hour cold shower to get over the experience.”

  Anya went all dreamy remembering what he looked like naked and dripping.

  “Fuck,” he said, “don’t look at me like that woman, we’re in public.”

  “Maybe we should go somewhere more private then?” she suggested, wondering what the hell happened to her normal ball-busting self and where this saucy minx had come from.

  Ash needed no prodding. Still holding her arm, he steered her toward an elevator bank. Anya was nearly panting by the time they got there. In the elevator he punched the button to the fifth floor and whipped out his cell phone to send a text. When he finished he turned and looked down at her with smouldering eyes.

  “This time you don’t get to run.”

  She clicked her tongue at him, never more aware of their height difference. She had worn her customary combat boots, but wished she’d worn heels. Normally she hated feeling tiny, but for now she enjoyed the view too much to really complain.

  “Oh big man, you do flatter yourself,” she smiled snidely. “I simply want to talk business.”

  He looked her up and down and grinned. “You sure don’t look dressed for a business meeting, Miss…?”

  She ignored his fishing expedition and snapped, “Sexist! I can wear whatever the hell I want. Doesn’t mean I’m looking to be attacked by a giant loser.”

  His grin turned slightly feral. “You got a mouth on you, woman.”

  “Oh, and I suppose you’d like to tame me? Oh oh! Or maybe put my mouth to better use?” she snapped back. “Yeah, never heard that before.”

  He growled and reached for her. She slapped his hand. “Seriously, Ash, business first. Then maybe we can talk about us.”

  He frowned, but maintained his distance, for now. They arrived on the fifth floor where he guided her off the elevator in front of him. She followed him down the hall and waited while he opened the door and escorted her into a room that was clearly a hotel room, but also noticeably used as a residence. Did he live there? Or was he at work so much that he needed a room in the hotel when he couldn’t go home?

  “Get on with it,” he said, sitting down on the couch with legs spread wide and arms stretched out across the back. “What business can you possibly have with me?”

  Anya swallowed. When he looked like that, all sprawled out like a big lazy tiger, she wanted to jump on him and lick him all over. Starting at the collar of the dress shirt, worn under a suit jacket, where the tendons of his thick neck strained, down his gorgeously ripped chest and ending by slowly unzipping his jeans and licking…

  Speaking of cold showers.

  Anya sort of resented the knowing smirk Ash was giving her. If he wasn’t careful, she’d take a kneeling leap at the part of his anatomy she was considering bathing with her tongue. Dude just didn’t know how to stay on her good side. She decided to play with him a little, just to get him as revved up as she had become.

  Pulling out a stool from the kitchen bar, she perched on it, her booted feet hooked in the rung. Licking her purple tinted lips, she crossed her legs and sat at an angle that gave Ash a clear view of where the skirt rode up her thigh. She enjoyed the instantaneous stiffening of his body and the way his eyes flew to her legs and stayed.

  “I heard you might be looking for a new sponsor,” she said.

  “Uh huh.” His voice clearly stated that he didn’t give a flying fuck about fighting at the moment.

  She squirmed, feeling the skirt slide up even more, and leaned back against the bar. “Focus, boy,” she said huskily, “this really is a business proposition.”

  He shrugged. “So you keep saying.”

  She sighed. He really could be such an asshole. “Are you, or are you not for sale?” she snapped.

  “Only to the right bidder,” he replied.

  She nodded. “And who exactly would the right bidder be?”

  He snorted. “Definitely not a little girl that likes to play games with the big boys.”

  Anya’s temper soared. She had to remind herself to remain seated and do a little business before making him pay for every snide remark he made about her. “Can you please be serious for a moment?”

  He stood and stalked over to her, his big body moving surprisingly fast for having so much muscle. Anya made the mistake of uncrossing her legs and trying to hop off the stool to keep from being trapped. She had only enough time to uncross her legs before he was right in front of her, crowding her back on the stool and forcing her legs to part in order to accommodate his hips. He
placed his hands on the counter on either side of her.

  “Okay,” he said. “Lets get serious.”

  Oh. Fuck.

  She could feel the heat of his big body engulfing her. She thought she was going to burst into flames. The roughness of his jean-clad hips pressed against the softness of her inner thighs. She sucked in air through her nose and nearly grew dizzy from the delicious scent of him. He smelled warm and inviting, like sandalwood with a hint of his underlying natural fragrance. It was a damn good thing he had her so completely trapped, because she might have melted into a puddle on the floor if he wasn’t holding her up.

  She tilted her head back and tried to stop her body from moving the few inches it would take to mould her crotch against him.

  “Why’d you run from me baby?” he asked in his deep, sexy voice. He hunched his shoulders, dropped his head down to her shoulder and grazed her skin with his lips.

  Anya’s breath caught in her throat at the light contact. A shiver ran down her spine. Her voice wasn’t nearly as strong as she hoped it might be when she finally spoke. “Negotiate with me.”

  His lips trailed across the arch of neck and up to her jaw, then back down. He lightly teased the speeding pulse point with his tongue. “Fine,” he agreed. “Tell me why you took off after the fight, then I negotiate.”

  Breathless gasps escaped her as he backed up just enough to drop his lips onto the top of her cleavage. She should be shoving him back, demanding he take his hands off her and talk serious business. Instead she wanted to wrap herself around him so tightly he’d be branded into her skin.

  “I was pissed, that’s why I left.”

  “Yeah,” he snorted. “I know you were pissed. Why?”

  She wanted to get a little space, suddenly feeling vulnerable, but instead he tightened his arms against her as though sensing she might flee again. “I’m just not used… to being touched like that.”

  He froze. “You’re a virgin! Fuck me.”

  “No, idiot,” she snickered. “I’m not a virgin. I mean I’ve never…”