A Pole and a Gun

9 - Imperfections

♧ TRIXIE

While Dimitri is trying to close the trunk of the car with the dude inside, I try to wrap my head around everything that has happened. Which is quite difficult as I hear him grunt one last time to close the damn thing. Considering the size of the guy he took out with only the use of his hands, it is a feat.

He rounds the car and swings my gym bag onto the back seats. Opening a briefcase, he pulls out a perfectly ironed gray shirt and shrugs off his suit jacket.

Heat creeps up my cheeks when I find my eyes latch onto him unapologetically. Dimitri is undoing the buttons of his stained shirt one by one, revealing his tanned chest while he grumbles and swears under his breath.

I let my gaze wander briefly over the tattooed sleeves on both of his arms. The black and red designs etched on his skin make my fingers itch to trail over them. To know how his mind ticks through the art of his body.

With the shortage lately in Vitamin 'D', I'm having a hard time keeping my head on straight as I take in his bulging muscles, the defined six pack of his abdomen and the happy trail of hair that leads south.

"Fuck me." I exhale.

I slam my hand to my lips, because Dimitri is now fully aware that I am drinking him like a tall glass of water. A smirk plays on his lips, gazing straight into my eyes.

I clench my legs together to control the pulsing need in my core and the air between us both crackles with tension.

I must be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome or something, because it is not right how I react to this male. I'm getting annoyingly hot positive feelings toward my captor.

With the fresh shirt half buttoned up, he lowers himself into the driver's seat. The whole time he has his eyes on me, enjoying watching me squirm in the leather seat.

His warm hand grabs my thigh, and he pulls himself closer to me. His warm breath fans my ear, leaving goosebumps to his touch.

"Does the little stripper want something?"

I gulp audibly; he notices the squeak that leaves my mouth in an attempt to answer his question.

His eyes rake over me. "Well?"

I inwardly shake my head. Now is not the time to get hot and bothered.

"I need a cold shower." I mutter under my breath, noticing my dry mouth and the thirst that invades me.

Dimitri looks disappointed, peeling himself away from me. His hands grip the steering wheel like he is trying to distract himself from what he really wanted me to say. He focuses back on the road after taking one last longing gaze at me.

My chest is heavily thumping with the sexual tension between us. I know it is just lust and the need to get laid messing with me. Learning from my past, I'm no longer following my heart. That bitch gives bad directions.

My vajayjay didn't get the message.

I take a moment to pull myself together and fight the warm feeling that has settled in my core at the sight of Dimitri's perfect torso. I glance over at him, his sunglasses back in place like everything that went down today didn't happen.

At a stoplight, he rolls up his sleeves and I'm back to square one. The sight of his muscular forearms that could take out someone that quickly has me turning into a puddle. I need to say something to distract myself.

"Who was that woman?" I ask, earning a brow lift from Dimitri, like I shouldn't be asking him anything about his business. "You dragged me all the way out here and made me your accomplice. The least you can do is keep me in the loop."

Dimitri heaves a sigh but indulges me. "Ivana Sokitov. My cousin Sergei's mistress."

Did I hear that right?

"Suck-it-off?" I blurt, unable to catch the words flying from my mouth again.

"Only you could come up with such a thing," Dimitri laughs, and the sound is warm and alluring. He taps twice on the steering wheel with the hand he had on my thigh earlier and my mind goes back into the gutter.

"Sorry, I have no filter." I heave a sigh and look out of the window, anywhere but at Dimitri.

"I've noticed," he agrees with a mirth in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he continues, "Sergei is the man you witnessed killing two people in the nightclub where you worked."

"He said he was framing those Italian mobsters for what he did?" I pipe up, thinking back to the night where Dimitri kidnapped me.

"Basically," his grip on the steering wheel tightens and I know that while he is sharing this with me, it makes him mad. "He stole from our family and then put it in someone else's hands."

"That could lead to a confrontation with the Italian mafia," I muse, whispering.

"Part of that container was intended for my men," he seethes through his teeth. "He planned it while my father was out of town, so it feels personal."

"So you want to figure out how he did it and who helped him?" I answer, reaching out with my hand to calm him down, but retreating mid-air.

"As you know, you are part of that," his eyes rake over me before averting back at the road. "I need all the pieces of the puzzle. Present it to both cartel leaders - to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

"And get back at Sergei for what he did," I babble Dimitri's unspoken words.

Dimitri's eyes widen at my blunt words, but I see the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. Trouble and mayhem are written all over his face, and I know the heir to the Russian Vegas Cartel will not stop until his cousin gets what he deserves.

And I am impossibly turned on right now.