Clinch (The Underground Book 2) (6 page)

So what if the FBI was more interested in a drug investigation than the lives of six MMA fighters? Leo was astute. His concern focused on keeping his friends out of danger, and if his contact could provide him with enough information to keep them all alive one day at a time, he was all in.

Why the hell did Yenin still want them back under his fold after five months? That seemed crazy. And who the fuck gave a shit about his stupid drug labs? So what if the man was cooking meth, or even something stronger? He probably had a lab in half a dozen US cities. Yenin was filthy rich. He didn’t get that way managing fights and investing his winnings.

It unnerved Leo that so many higher ups were chasing the Vegas leader of the Russian Mafia around for years. How many men did the FBI have working this job full time?

Hell, how many informants did they have who provided intricate details like Leo?

It would seem logical that Yenin had transferred some of his manpower to his Chicago lab, but so far no one had found a single shred of evidence to suggest he was selling drugs.

Either Anton Yenin was far smarter than any of them gave him credit for, or the FBI was onto something far more devious than methamphetamines.

Leo’s contact cleared his throat. “I know we haven’t required much from you in several months, but we need to get back on this trail. If you hear a peep, let me know immediately. If Yenin contacts you, or any of the guys, call me. And no matter what, keep this completely under wraps. It’s crucial that not one other living soul know we’ve spoken.”

It went without saying. He’d been in this loop for two years. He knew the drill. And he was happy to help. Anything to catch that asshole and get him off the streets before he seriously hurt someone.

Leo knew Yenin would have eventually killed Lauren or killed to get her. How far would he go to protect his mysterious drug lab?

Fuck.

Narking for the FBI was an easy enough side gig that provided a financial cushion he could stash away, but he didn’t like thinking Katie might be in danger. And he could kick himself for growing complacent.

Katie opened the door to the clinic Friday night at seven sharp. The only problem was she wasn’t dressed. “I’m so sorry. I ran late. Are we in a hurry? Can I change really quick?”

Leo stepped inside, locking the door behind him. He looked sexier than ever. He wore dark jeans and his standard tight T-shirt, but this time it was blue. She almost chuckled.

Standing next to him in her lime green scrubs made her feel incredibly underdressed, even though there was nothing different or special about Leo’s clothing. His hair was slicked back from a recent shower, and he smelled amazing—a combination of his soap, the scent of the gym that always lingered on his skin, and all Leo. Man. Nothing like the wealthy businessmen her mother set her up with.

He didn’t wear any cologne or aftershave, and it was refreshing. She always hated the way so many men masked themselves under expensive scents that made her eyes water and her nose run.

“Of course,” he said. “No hurry. We have plenty of time. The first fight won’t start until nine. And Mikhail isn’t up until later. I thought we’d go out to dinner first.” He wrapped his hand around her forearm and lifted it. “You don’t eat enough. You work too hard. Do you ever stop for lunch?”

She scrunched up her face. “Not always. But I eat. Don’t be ridiculous.” She shook herself free and turned toward the door at the far end of the waiting room.

She could feel Leo’s body heat right behind her as she made her way down the short hall to the left and then opened the door to her stairs. She needed more than a change of clothing. She needed a shower.

“Can I shower? I’ll be quick. Promise.” She dropped her phone on the counter as they entered the kitchen area, already racing toward the bathroom.

“Take your time. I’ll look at the thermostat.”

The second she shut the door behind her, leaving her alone in the small bathroom, she exhaled. Lord. Lately every time she was around him, she was a hot mess. He made her libido shoot through the roof. Maybe she should make a pass at him and force his hand. If she could get him to at least kiss her, perhaps she could prove he wasn’t quite as perfect as her mind had begun to paint.

Maybe he couldn’t kiss worth a darn.

But then again, what if he could?

She moaned as she flipped on the water and shrugged out of her clothes. She really did look a mess most of the time she was with him. The other night when he came over, she intentionally put on next to nothing and traipsed in front of him to see how he would react. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was affected.

He grew incredibly surly with each passing moment, his face flushing several times. And she caught him staring at her chest repeatedly.

She smiled as she ducked under the spray and grabbed the shampoo. She wasn’t the sort of vain woman who took forever getting ready to go out, but considering how horny she was and how long it had been since she’d had sex, she decided to reach for her razor next and shave her legs and groom herself perfectly.

Just in case.

In case of what? In case she decided to risk the best friendship she’d had in forever by throwing herself at Leo in hopes of a good fuck?

She had no doubt the man could fuck. Hell, if his cock was as large as it appeared through his jeans, he wouldn’t even need talent.

Hurrying, she turned off the water, grabbed her towel, and rubbed her body down. With her hair still dripping, she wrapped the towel around her middle and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Katie, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your thermostat either, woman. It’s just set too high.”

Of course it was. She’d turned it up on purpose while he went downstairs to get the pizza the other night and then again today. “Oops.”

Leo turned to face her as she went by him. If she wasn’t mistaken, he flushed a deep shade of red and swallowed hard.

Good.

If she had to be aroused all the time she was around him, he could be too. It was only fair.

“What should I wear?” she asked from where she stared into her closet.

He didn’t pop his head into her room like she’d hoped. Instead he spoke from the living room. “Not that dress from last time. I’d have to handcuff you to my belt loop to keep from losing you.”

She froze, her hand in the air, reaching for a hanger. Handcuff?

Her fingers shook. Why did the mental image send a rush of wetness between her legs?

“Go for something that won’t make me have to hit anyone, okay? Otherwise we’ll end up right back here with you putting stitches in the other guy’s face.”

She smiled. “Cocky much?”

“I don’t have to be. Just stating the facts. If some man puts a hand on you, he won’t be able to see through either eye for a week.”

She should be appalled. If Marshall had ever insinuated he might start a fight with someone, she’d have questioned his sanity and run for the hills.

But not Leo. The thought of Leo defending her honor made her clit throb. She didn’t know how she was going to get dressed with her hands shaking like they were.

And he spoke so nonchalantly, as if simply pointing out the facts.

She touched a pair of jeans, and then decided against them and grabbed a jean skirt instead. It was tight and short. If she was reading him correctly, he would freak out. Yep. That would be her sign he was indeed interested in her beyond friendship.

Excellent plan. She set the skirt on her bed and grabbed a dark purple tank top next.

Feeling bold, she opened her drawer and pulled out a matching thong and bra set in the same deep purple.

Perfect.

Five minutes later, she rounded the corner to return to the bathroom and dry her hair.

“No.”

She fought the grin that wouldn’t be thwarted as she leaned under the vanity to grab her makeup bag.

When she righted herself, she almost jumped out of her skin. In the mirror she found Leo standing right behind her, his hands on both sides of the doorframe, his chest leaning forward so far he almost touched her back. “Hell, no.”

“What?” she asked innocently, flipping on the dryer to drown out his protests.

He stood there glaring at her until her hair was completely dry, and when she turned it off, he picked up where he left off, although his tone was less harsh, as though he’d used the minutes to rein in his temper. “How about jeans and a sweater?”

She scowled. “Why would I do that?” She glanced down at herself, knowing full well what he meant and playing it dumb. “This is fine. Everything’s covered. I just need a bit of mascara and some lip gloss, and I’ll be ready.”

It was tough accomplishing those last tasks and taming her long curls into submission down her back with Leo standing so close to her, not moving.

A statue.

When she finished, she turned around and held out her arms. “See. Perfect.” It was so hard to keep from grinning.

“Not even close. Babe, that’s less than you wore the first time you went to a fight.”

She glanced down. “No, it’s not. This is darker. Subdued. I won’t stand out. Besides, I have a blouse that matches it. It will cover my shoulders.”

He slouched on a long groan as he released one side of the doorframe to let her by. “Let me see this blouse.”

She ducked under his arm and squeezed past him, wanting to squeal with delight. Why she had turned this entire thing into a game, she had no idea, but she was in it to win it.

Leo surprised her by following her into her bedroom this time. She slid the matching purple blouse from a hanger and slipped it onto her arms. It was so sheer, it hardly counted as clothing, and the effort to keep from smiling was killing her.

She didn’t look at him until after she had slid on a pair of black heels. And then she stood. “See? Perfect. Let’s go.”

Leo stepped forward, blocked her exit, and took both her shoulders in his hands.

When she tipped her head back to meet his gaze, she loved what she found. The man was fuming. Excellent. She would bet her trust fund he was horny and not the least bit angry.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell, babe,” he whispered. “You have no clue the sex appeal you project, do you?”

“Me?” She tried to look innocent. In truth, no one had ever looked at her with fire in their eyes the way Leo did. It felt amazing. Her thong was soaked already from the dance she’d been performing. “I’m perfectly decent, Leo. What are you, my big brother all the sudden?”

Ooh, that hit him in the gut. He flinched. “I’m definitely not related to you, no. But I don’t relish the idea of kicking some guy’s ass at the fight when I’m not the one in the ring.”

She set her hands flat on his chest. It was the first time she’d touched him so blatantly. He was rock hard. Deliciously fit. She wished he weren’t wearing the T-shirt so she could spread her palms directly on his skin. Hell, she wanted to put her cheek against him.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Men aren’t nearly as into me as you seem to think. I’m short, pale, and too skinny.”

He lifted a brow. “Did someone tell you that?”

Never. She’d made it up. In actuality, she had more self-confidence than most women. She knew men turned their heads to look at her. The blonde hair alone caused a stir.

She shrugged, and then she ducked under his arm and wiggled free of his touch. If she didn’t break contact, she might self-combust. “Let’s go.”

Leo groaned long and loud behind her. “Katie Schwan. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I hope not. Who would protect me at the fight?” She batted her eyes in exaggeration while she opened her purse to grab her driver’s license and a credit card. She stuffed both items in her back pocket. “Will you keep my keys?” She held them out.

Leo inched forward, scowling. He reached for her hand and grabbed much more than the key to the clinic. He hauled her toward him, almost knocking her off her feet in the heels. When her chest was inches from his, he finally spoke, his enormous, strong hand still gripping her entire fist. “You don’t leave my side. Not for one minute. Not even to use the bathroom. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” She forced a fake serious expression.

When he released her, she headed down the stairs, wobbling a bit on her heels. She didn’t wear them often, but that wasn’t the issue. In this case, Leo Gulin had her so off kilter, it was a wonder she didn’t faint. Plus, none of her blood was reaching her legs. It was all rushing to her sex to drive her mad with the need to be fucked.

She’d never considered any of her sexual experiences fucking, but that was exactly what she was in the mood for with the seething beast at her back.

Leo couldn’t believe he’d let this tiny slip of a woman steamroll him. He gripped the steering wheel tighter than usual all the way to the restaurant, and then again when they got back into his car to head for the venue.

His knuckles hurt. And he was growing light-headed from holding his breath for long stretches. The scent of her strawberry shampoo and whatever body soap she used filled the tight confines of his sports car, driving him insane. The car was too small for this torture. He’d purchased the red 1984 Trans Am several years ago and fixed it up. It wasn’t in good condition when he acquired it, but it was brag worthy by the time he moved it from Vegas to Chicago six months ago.

“Dinner was amazing,” Katie said, setting her head back against the headrest.

“You liked it, then?” He shot her a glance. He knew she’d enjoyed every bite. Everyone in the restaurant knew. She’d moaned around several mouthfuls. If he wasn’t mistaken, she did so on purpose to drive him crazier than he already was.

“Of course. I love German food. The käsespätzle was delicious.” She turned her face toward him. “And I love that you don’t mind me trying things off your plate. My spätzle was great, but so was your stew.”

He shrugged. Why would he mind? The woman could eat her food off his bare chest for all he cared.

“Some people hate sharing.”

Instinctively he reached for her hand and squeezed it against her bare leg, instantly regretting the action. He was going to crash into a pole if he didn’t pay better attention. He let go of her just as fast. “I don’t mind at all. It’s amusing watching you enjoy a meal, even if it was mostly noodles.” He shot her a wink to soften the blow of his weird hand clasp and release.