“I’m telling you, Mika, if he smacks my…” Romana’s voice trailed off, while she shook her head back and forth. Stacking her clenched fists as if she was holding a baseball bat, she twisted them. “…one more time…I’m going to snap his neck.”
Arriving at the house, the two women were ushered to an upstairs bedroom where Popovich was waiting. They had seen him once before. He had been dressed in his military uniform and did not look that bad; however, standing before them, wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a dirty muscle shirt, he looked every bit as disgusting as Marta had described. Before they excused themselves, under the pretense of having to freshen up, Popovich had spanked Romana on the butt, twice. The second time had been so hard she took a couple steps forward and went to her tiptoes before walking into the second floor bathroom.
Mika finished writing on the bathroom window with a tube of lipstick, adjusted the window curtains and tossed the lipstick into her purse. Standing behind Romana, Mika pinched the zipper of Romana’s dress and ran it down as far as it would go. Romana pushed the straps over her shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. Both women wore only a bra, panties and high-heeled shoes.
“Keep it together, Romana.” Mika hoped her demeanor would calm her teammate. “We need to stay sharp and focused, especially since Natasha and Hardy are going to be entering the house virtually blind.” She jerked a thumb toward the window. “That’s only going to do so much.” Using specially designed lipstick that glowed in the dark, she had written, in code, that they had visual confirmation of Popovich, their location and an approximate number of men inside the house.
Romana saw her reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, remind me to give him hell when this is over. I looked like a hooker before. Now, I look…”
Mika put her hands on her partner’s shoulders. “We only need to avoid him for fifteen minutes.” She smiled at Romana’s image. “Just pretend like you’re playing ‘hard to get.’ Remember that man back at the Academy, the one who thought he was a Greek god when it came to women?”
Romana smirked. He was a real jackass.
“Yeah, just like that.” Mika wiped the smile from her face. “No matter what happens in there, we wait for the assaulters, got it?”
Romana nodded.
“All right, then—it’s show time.”
They walked into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door, Popovich jumped up and rushed them, his hands all over their bodies, giving equal attention to each woman. He tried to kiss Mika, who retreated, while slowly and playfully wagging her finger.
“Net tselovalis' – No kissing.” She sauntered toward the bed, making sure she had his full attention.
Popovich twisted his head back and forth, unable to decide which woman he wanted first. He abandoned Romana.
Before Mika knew what had happened, Popovich had slipped his hand under the back of her panties, his hand coming out way above the top of the waistband. She felt her body floating before the two of them came down on the bed, Popovich landing on top of her. The mattress sagged three times. With each bounce, the slob’s sweaty body pressed against her chest and stomach. Smelling body odor, she fought to suppress her gag reflex. She recalled her pep talk to Romana. Keep it together, Mik’s.