Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 727: Claire’s Friend- Yelena

She held my gaze for a long moment, the conflict playing out behind her eyes. Finally, she exhaled sharply, her shoulders sagging just a fraction. "Fine," she said, her voice gruff. "But if I see an opening, I’m taking it. No hesitation."

I nodded, accepting her terms. "Fair enough," I said, grabbing my coat and slipping it on. "But we stick together. No splitting up, no disappearing acts. Deal?"

Claire’s eyes flicked to the door, then back to me. "Deal," she said, though there was a hint of reluctance in her voice. "But if things go south, I’m not waiting around for you to catch up."

I smirked, despite the gravity of the situation. "Wouldn’t dream of it, Agent Starling," I said, gesturing toward the door. "After you."

Claire grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder with a practiced ease. "Stay close," she said, unlocking the door and stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. "And for God’s sake, try not to look so much like a billionaire. We’re supposed to be hiding."

I followed her out, pulling the hood of my coat up to shadow my face. "No promises," I muttered, falling into step beside her. "But I’ll do my best."

Claire shot me that sideways glance again, her lips twitching like she was fighting back a smirk. "That’s what I’m afraid of," she muttered, already scanning the parking lot with the sharp eyes of a predator. Her gaze locked onto a nondescript silver sedan—nothing flashy, nothing memorable, the kind of car that would blend into traffic like a ghost. Perfect.

She didn’t hesitate. With a fluid motion, she stepped closer to me, her body pressing against mine in a way that was very deliberate. "Nickolai’s men are looking for two people on the run," she murmured, her voice dropping into a sickly-sweet tone that didn’t match her at all.

"But they won’t be looking for a couple." Her hands slid around my arm, her fingers digging in just enough to sell the act, and—oh—her body was definitely pressed against mine in a way that left no room for misunderstanding.

"Honey," she cooed, batting her eyelashes in a way that was so over-the-top it had to be a joke, "let’s go."

I exhaled through my nose, playing along despite the fact that this was not how I’d expected my morning to go. "Yeah," I said, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. "Lead the way, darling."

Claire’s smirk deepened for half a second before she turned us toward the sedan. She didn’t head straight for it—no, she sauntered, her hips swaying just enough to sell the act, her grip on my arm tight enough to make it look like we were lovers out for a morning stroll.

When we reached the car, she leaned against it, her free hand sliding into her pocket.

"Watch the corners," she murmured, her voice barely audible. Then, in one smooth motion, she pulled out a slim, black tool—some kind of lockpick gun—and pressed it against the driver’s side door. A quiet click, and the door unlocked.

I raised an eyebrow. "Impressive."

Claire shot me a look, her fingers already working on the ignition. "You sound surprised."

"I am," I admitted, watching as she hot-wired the car in under ten seconds. "I didn’t take you for a car thief."

"It’s borrowing," she corrected, the engine roaring to life. "And it’s part of the training. You’d be surprised what they teach you when you’re in the FBI."

I buckled my seatbelt as she peeled out of the parking lot, my voice dry. "Remind me never to park my car near you."

Claire laughed—a real, genuine sound that cut through the tension. "Too late."

The drive was a maze of detours, Claire taking us through back alleys, circling blocks, and even doubling back once just to make sure we weren’t being followed.

After nearly two hours of evasive maneuvers, she finally pulled into the shadow of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The place looked like it had been forgotten by time—rusted metal, broken windows, the kind of spot that screamed hideout to anyone who knew where to look.

She killed the engine, and before I could even unbuckle, the warehouse door groaned open. A woman stepped out, her sharp features and dark hair marking her as Russian before she even spoke. She broke into a run, throwing her arms around Claire the second she was close enough.

"I thought you were dead," the woman—Yelena—said, her voice thick with relief.

Claire hugged her back just as fiercely, though her tone was all dry humor. "I’m not that easy to kill, bitch."

Yelena pulled back, her gaze flicking to me with a smirk that was all mischief. "Claire," she purred, "I didn’t expect you to be in such a... heat. Couldn’t help but bring a man along even when you’re on the run?" Her eyes raked over me, assessing, amused. "Or is this a new tactic? Distract the enemy with your charm?"

Claire groaned, shoving Yelena lightly. "This is Jack," she said, her voice flat. "He’s a friend. A civilian."

Yelena’s smirk only deepened, her gaze lingering on me with open curiosity. "A civilian, huh?" She stepped closer, her voice dropping into a teasing purr. "And here I thought Claire only worked with professionals." Her fingers tapped her chin, her eyes gleaming. "Tell me, Jack—how does a civilian end up mixed up in this?"

I crossed my arms, matching her smirk. "Lucky, I guess."

Yelena barked out a laugh, looping her arm through Claire’s as she led us inside. "Oh, I like him," she declared, shooting me a wink. "He’s got spirit."

Claire rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t fall out. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet, you missed me," Yelena shot back, her grin unrepentant. She turned to me, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "She always misses me."

Claire shoved her again, though there was no real heat in it. "We don’t have time for this."

Yelena sobered slightly, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Fine, fine. Business first." She gestured toward the warehouse’s interior, where a small, makeshift living space had been set up—cots, a table littered with maps and weapons, a generator humming in the corner. "You two look like hell. Sit. Eat. Then we talk."

Claire didn’t argue, though she shot Yelena one last warning look before turning to me. "You. Stay close."

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn’t dream of wandering off."

Yelena’s laugh echoed through the warehouse as she tossed me a bottle of water. "Smart man." She leaned in, her voice a teasing whisper. "But if you do wander off... let me know. I’ll show you the real fun parts of this city."

Claire made a sound that was half-growl, half-exasperated sigh. "Ignoring her is the best strategy," she muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

I grinned. "Noted."

Yelena winked. "Liar."