A Pole and a Gun

14 - The reason

♤ DIMITRI

The morning after Nox's debriefing, I find myself sitting among my men in a meeting I called for in my office. It's cramped with burly males in suits and firearms, but we make it work.

When Trixie and I had gone to check out Ivana Sokitov, Nox and back-up went to check our crucial lead. They found the off-the-grid hangar from where Sergei conducts his secret operations. This location isn't known to the family and required further observation.

Nox stayed out the entire night doing surveillance and adding hidden cameras for Dominic's team. He did a terrific job without being caught.

With the new information from Babushka, we are facing a complete case of intel gathering and interrogations until we find the entire scheme Sergei Luwkuntz is hiding behind and making him a rich motherfucker on the backs of others.

I wonder if Nikolai Tolderov has something to do with it. Trixie put the idea in my head and I want to have him followed by a detail until I'm sure I can clear him.

I had put much needed space between Trixie and me. After her fall in the bathroom yesterday, it was hard to walk away - literally. I couldn't let myself get involved with her. At least, during this time, while I'm busy with the investigation. She is a key piece to the puzzle and getting her heart broken with my usual antics won't benefit me.

Because I am that kind of guy. I don't date women; I fuck them and chuck them.

She was a tempting little minx who kept me up all night thinking of her luscious curves under the flimsy towel between us. I reach for my lips with my hand and I feel the ghost of hers on mine when I think back to how her perfect body melded against mine.

I snap back to the conversation at hand and welcome all my men in my office, thanking them for the work put in the last days since the container theft. A couple of them have pulled an all-nighter with Nox, but they know how this business is and get royally paid for their time and loyalty.

"We've got to work on a surveillance team to gather information on Sergei's location," I order. "I need wires to get proof on tape."

"Dominic left us the IT supplies necessary in one of the SUVs in the garage." Kristof Analovitz, one of my two trusted live-in guards, adds to the conversation. "I tried to get information out of the thug in your trunk, Boss, but he isn't singing yet." He cracks his knuckles with a sadistic grin.

While we are going back and forth with tracing a plan and the guys are eager to get into action, the door to my office suddenly opens.

"Oh, sorry," Trixie's eyes are wide as she takes in the room. Dark, brooding men stare back at the showstopper of a woman as she barges into the middle of my meeting.

"What do you need, Trixie?" I sigh, exasperated, getting up from my seat and rounding my desk.

Trixie is still staring, dumbfounded at everyone in the room. I see the shift in my men as they look amused at the change in my demeanor.

"Can you give me a hand in the kitchen?" she says, wringing her fingers in front of her, clearly realizing that she made another mistake by not knocking.

I grumble and lift my hand to wave at my men. "Excuse us for a moment." I grind my molars together, knowing that we were finally getting somewhere before Trixie walked in.

I feel all eyes on my back and Trixie's fine ass as they watch her leave through the door and me close behind. I share a look with Nox, who is trying not to laugh at my predicament, but my stare conveys enough to shut him up.

Sauntering behind Trixie as she makes her way to the kitchen, my eyes are glued on the sway of her hips. I may be pissed off right now for the interruption, but I can't complain about the short dress she is wearing, draped over her curves like a second skin.

I feel Jr. twitching in my slacks and I take a deep breath to steady myself as her perfume hits me. It's subtle and flowery, contradicting everything that Trixie is; a damn firecracker.

I'm asking myself why she wants me in the kitchen. Somehow I'm hoping she brought me here under false pretenses, remembering our last moment here. The mental image makes me hard.

That is until she thrusts a jar of pickles in my hand.

"You really just pulled me out of an important meeting to help you with a fucking jar?" I yell, staring at her with rage in my eyes, and notice my previous boner gone as my anger takes over.

"I couldn't open it," she sputters and gazes at me pleadingly, chewing on her lower lip in embarrassment. "Nox and Kristof were with you and I thought of making sandwiches."

She steps aside and reveals the plates on the counter. Trixie has nicely arranged the deli cuts on the slices of bread and I feel something shift within me.

I open the jar with a small pop and hand it to her. "Mayonnaise," I say, nodding towards the sandwiches.

She beams at me, flashing me a bright smile, and I know I'm done for. I steel my face and walk back to my office. I know I should've said something more to her, but I can't.

I hear my men sniggering the moment I round the corner. They probably overheard me yelling and part of the conversation. Fucking great.

Bubba, a burly dark cocoa male the size of Nox, looks at me the moment I step into the room. "I could eat, Boss," he states.

Damn motherfuckers heard everything. All holding their breaths to contain their laughter at the absurd situation with the kidnapped stripper making sandwiches for the mob that keeps her captive. I roll my eyes and make my way past Nox.

"Whipped eejit," Nox mutters with a grin on his face.

Sonofabitch.