Page 87 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

I swallow, feel the vodka warm my throat, and try to answer seriously. “N-nope.” The word comes out with a tiny stutter at the end.

“Are you?”

Tasha tries to look serious as she gives a shake of her head, eyes wide. “N…no.”

We both crack up, heads thrown back, drawing a couple of amused glances from nearby people. My sides hurt from laughing so hard.

Then two guys materialize at our elbows, close enough that I can smell cheap cologne and beer breath.

One has a receding hairline that’s losing the fight fast; the other is completely bald, shiny head reflecting the strobe lights like a disco ball.

Receding Hairline’s eyes drop straight to my chest and stay there, tongue darting out to wet his lips in the grossest leer I’ve ever seen.

“How you ladies doing?” Bald Guy asks, voice oily. “Can we buy you a drink?”

Tasha turns slowly, sizes them up like they’re expired milk, and deadpans, “Dumb and Dumber. Beat it.”

Bald Guy snorts. “You two aren’t worth it anyway.”

Tasha smiles sweetly. “Yeah, neither are you. I’d saw off my left arm before I let either of you near me.”

Receding Hairline ignores her completely. His gaze is still glued to my breasts. “Come on, sweetheart,” he says to me, stepping closer. “Don’t let your friend be a cock-blocker.”

I feel my skin crawl. “You heard her. Beat it.”

He doesn’t. Instead he takes another step, too close now, and reaches out. His hand taps my breast.

I gasp, fury exploding hot in my chest. But before I can swing or Tasha can lunge, the guy is yanked backward hard. Two men in dark jackets materialize from the crowd like they were always there, one gripping Receding Hairline’s collar, the other twisting his arm behind his back.

A fist connects with the guy’s jaw, and he crumples. Bald Guy bolts, shoving through bodies like a panicked rat.

I recognize the men instantly. Leonid’s guys. Dmitri and Sergei. Since I started spending time at his house, I've come to know more of his men.

Dmitri is already steering me and Tasha away from the growing chaos, people shouting. “This way,” he says.

We’re hustled toward the side exit, through a narrow hallway that smells like spilled beer and bleach, then out into the cool night air. A black SUV idles at the curb, rear door open.

“How did you get here so fast?” I ask Dmitri, heart still slamming against my ribs.

He doesn’t answer. Just guides me toward the car. “You okay?”

Tasha’s right behind me, breathing hard but grinning. “What does it matter? They saved us from those creepy assholes.”

Sergei appears from the side door, wiping a smear of blood off his knuckles with a handkerchief. “Ms. Harper, I’ll take your friend home in the other car. Dmitri will take you home in this,” he explains to me.

Tasha turns to me, pulls me into a quick, fierce hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too,” I manage, still dazed.

She slides into the second SUV. The door closes. They pull away.

And then Leonid steps out of the shadows by the main entrance, black pea coat open over a dark shirt, expression thunderous. The streetlights carve sharp lines across his face.

Tasha leans out the window of her departing car. “Hi, Leonid!”

He lifts a hand in acknowledgment. “Tasha.”

She blows me a kiss, then they’re gone.