She loved it.
It was half past ten Saturday when a familiar face appeared at the bar. It took her a moment to notice him, since he was bent forward, one elbow propped on the bar top and his chin resting in an upturned hand. He smiled lazily when her eyes finally landed on him.
Elena struggled to match the casualness of his smile with her own, not wanting to seem too eager or happy to see him. She lifted a finger, signaling for him to give her a minute as she finished up with something she was doing. Evgeni angled his head and winked.
She was quick to turn away. Elena had an excuse, of course; there were drinks to serve. She finished prepping the two cocktails she was working on, hustled them down to the other end of the bar, and made her way back to where Evgeni stood.
“Hey!” she said.
“Hey yourself.”
“What is it tonight?” she asked, blowing the fringe of fine hair that had worked loose from her ponytail out of her eyes with a huff. “Bottle?”
“Partial, if you have.”
She nodded, turning to bend down and check the fridge behind her. There was one open bottle left with about three inches of liquid in the bottom. “Is like, a fourth of a bottle okay?”
Elena glanced behind her just in time to catch Evgeni’s gaze shifting from her ass to her face in a slow glide. Her eyes widened, eyebrows lifting.
He smirked, dimple appearing in his cheek as he tilted his head to see past her into the fridge. “Da, is plenty.”
She pursed her lips, determined not to blush. She hated how flustered he made her. Like a freshman crushing on the bad boy of the senior class, it all seemed a little too juvenile for her liking. She wasn’t a child, and she certainly wasn’t a virgin. She didn’t have crushes. She was a grown woman, for God’s sake.
As if to prove her point, she took her time in pulling the bottle from the fridge. Elena let her belly drop, arched her back more sharply, and lifted her ass higher for just a moment before she straightened and kicked the fridge closed.
She turned on her heel and made eye contact with Evgeni as she set the bottle on the counter in front of him. “Shot or tumbler?”
Evgeni drew in a loud breath, exhaling a rumbling noise that reminded her of a growl—long and low. It made the hair on the back of Elena’s neck stand up, a little shiver running down her spine.
“Tumbler, unless you want join?”
She forced herself to frown, shrugging as she reached beneath the counter and pulled out a glass. “Can’t, I’m working.”
“That is shame for me.”
Evgeni tossed a couple of bills down on the counter—a tip, not payment for the drink, since he never seemed to pay—and winked again before he picked up his glass and bottle and backed away from the bar. He let his eyes flicker down her body in a slow perusal as he melted into the crowd, still wearing the same smirk as when she’d caught him staring at her ass.
Elena stared after him, dumbfounded by the spark of heat his look inspired low in her belly. He’d done so little to elicit the response—it was embarrassing. Despite her attempts to seem unfazed, her cheeks were burning.
“Damn it.”
From down the bar, a whistle stole her focus. A man was waving at her, trying to get her attention. Thankful for the distraction, Elena plastered on a smile and trotted his way.
“Coming, my friend!” she shouted in Russian.
*
Alone tonight with no one to distract him, Evgeni spent the better part of his time watching Elena work.
She buzzed back and forth like a happy little bee, keeping up with more than her share of the work. Kirill kept disappearing, leaving her alone to man the bar. Shit that he was, Evgeni thought it likely the man was out back smoking or taking breaks at her expense. If he kept it up, Evgeni would have to have a word with him.
Not that she’d complain. He didn’t picture her the sort.
Back and forth, back and forth, she zipped across the bar. He tracked her when she wove through the patrons and tables with tray in hand, appreciating the view when she bent to place it on the appropriate table. She was a quick little thing. Agile.
When she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, he didn’t bother to look away. He liked how her back straightened and she bit her lip, or pretended she hadn’t noticed. It didn’t matter; the way she moved changed when she knew he was looking. Her hips had a little extra sway, and she presented her perky tits a little more proudly.
She liked it when he watched her. She wanted him to watch her.
If only she knew how dangerous this game was—how close she was to getting fucked within an inch of her life against the wall of the bathroom, or storage closet, or wherever the fuck he could catch her alone. The very idea had his dick so hard he was vaguely concerned he might split the seam of his pants. Good thing he didn’t have a reason to stand up.
When she passed his table with another tray, she came a little closer than necessary—just close enough for him to get a whiff of her perfume as it swirled through the air in her wake—a dark, musky vanilla, not sickeningly sweet like the cake-scented crap most women wore. Evgeni licked his lips.
Senses on alert, tuned in to her closeness, he practically felt her coming on the return trek. She surprised him when she stopped at his side, dropping a hand lightly on his shoulder.
“Are you doing okay? Do you need anything?”
He tilted his head back, removing the cigarette from his lips and blowing smoke out the opposite side of his mouth as he stared up at her. She thought she was brave, putting her hand on him—showing him she wasn’t scared. It was a shame she started fidgeting the second he met her gaze.
“No, solnyshko. I have everything I need,” he murmured, dropping his tone to one both intimate and deep. “For now.”
Her fingers lifted abruptly, hand hovering above his shoulder as if he’d burned her with his words. Her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared. Whether she consciously was aware of it, she certainly felt the difference in his tone.
“W-Well, okay!” she stuttered, forcing herself to smile as she took a step back. “Great! Let me know if that changes.”
“Da, da,” he muttered as she scurried away, chuckling at her haste.
She’d only made it halfway back to the bar when a man stepped into her path, leering down at her. Evgeni was too far away to hear what the man was saying, but it quickly became obvious that it wasn’t anything she wanted to hear. Elena tried to sidestep him, but he stepped into her path, prompting her to bring her tray up between them protectively.
Evgeni was already getting to his feet when the man dared to put his hands on her ass, trapping her as he squeezed both cheeks and laughed. Elena squirmed, shoving the tray against the man’s chest as she looked from side to side, as if judging whether anyone could see. She hadn’t yelled. She didn’t want to make a scene.
Too bad Evgeni was about to make one.
The drunk was too busy manhandling her to see him coming, too distracted to get out of the way when Evgeni circled an arm around the front of him in a chokehold. The man made a strangled noise as Evgeni dragged him backwards, pulling him several feet away from Elena before he threw him down and straddled his prone body. He crouched low, grabbing a fistful of the man’s shirt and lifting his torso from the ground.
People were shouting. A few even screamed. Evgeni didn’t care. His fist collided with the man’s face with a sickening crunch, knocking the idiot unconscious on the first blow. He reared back to hit him again, rage bubbling up hot and fast—only to have someone shackle his arm.