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Timur shrugged again. “We’re already thinking he’s a dirty cop and head of Lazar’s hit team. I’m not sure of anything yet, Fyodor, but I’ll find out. I’ll step up the interrogation of the prisoner, but the more time he has to think about how cut off he is from the rest of the world, the more information I’ll extract quicker.” He didn’t like to think what he would have to do if the man wasn’t going to give him information easily.

Fyodor sighed again. “I hate this life for you. When we were kids, I thought maybe I could get you out.”

“This is my choice, it always has been,” Timur said. “What else could I do?”

Soft laughter slid from beneath the door of the bedroom. He put his hand on the heavy wood and absorbed those notes. They were real, the genuine thing. Laughter tugged at his heartstrings. Gave him a joy he hadn’t known he could feel. To hear both women, Evangeline and Ashe, laughing together made his world right. Made everything he had to do worth it.

He pushed open the door and stepped back to allow his brother through first. Evangeline was on the bed, back against several pillows, her legs stretched out in front of her. Ashe had pulled a chair to the side of the bed and was sitting with her legs in the air, nearly upside down, bunching the material of her dress around her hips to pretend a semblance of modesty.

“I shouldn’t ask, but what are you doing?” Whatever explanation his woman had wasn’t going to erase the sight of her, head hanging off the side, hair a wild mess, feet waving in the air.

Both women turned their heads toward the door and then burst out laughing again. Ashe righted herself, dragging the hem of the dress she wore to her ankles. “Hi. I didn’t expect you so soon.”

Her cheeks were bright red. Timur went straight to her, tipped back her chin to study her face and then bent his head and brushed her mouth gently with his. “I can see that. Was there a particular reason you were upside down?”

She snuck a quick peek at Evangeline and then both women were laughing again. “If I told you, you’d think we were a little crazy.”

“I know you’re both a little crazy,” he pointed out. He couldn’t help smiling. Just looking at her made him happy, but when she was like this, flushed, smiling, mischievous, her eyes bright and especially when she was sharing some private joke with Evangeline, his world was right. Perfectly right.

“There was this woman we both worked with,” Ashe said. “At the little café.”

“She thought she was a perfect little sexpot,” Evangeline added. “She was certain every man who came into the café wanted her.”

“They kinda did,” Ashe said.

Evangeline nodded. “That’s true. Because she wore these little skirts. Tiny skirts.”

“Teeny- tiny,” Ashe reiterated. “Micro-mini. If I tried to wear something like that …” She trailed off.

Evangeline laughed. “We had a miniskirt day, in honor of her. Her name was Sophie, and she squealed a lot when men were around. So that meant she squealed all the time. She flipped her hair …”

Both women provided a demonstration, flipping their hair this way and that. Both erupted into giggles.

“She liked to bend over a lot,” Ashe added. “As in all the time. She dropped things just so she could bend over.”

She stood up and faced away from Timur. She bent over, straight-legged, hiked up her skirt, giving him a good view of her bare bottom and her sweet little pussy. His cock jerked hard when she smiled at him from between her legs. “Like this. And she didn’t wear panties.”

“She said it was a complete waste of money and time,” Evangeline explained. “Money, because men tore panties off, and time because it was one more article of clothing to get off when she was in a hurry. She didn’t have a lot of time during her breaks or lunch and she took men into the backroom often.”

“It sounds as if she led a colorful life.”

Fyodor skirted around the end of the bed and came up on the other side so he could perch next to his wife. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I see you were in here resting.”

“I was entertaining her,” Ashe said. “With colorful tales of our past.”

Timur sank into the chair she had vacated when she came to her feet. He tugged at her until she sank down onto his lap. He liked her there. She wasn’t yet comfortable with being on his lap, his cock pressed tight to her bottom, but she was getting there. In fact, she wiggled. The friction sent a jolt, much like a lightning bolt running through him.


Tags: Christine Feehan Leopard People Paranormal