by Taylor Lee
“Leave the lights off… for the moment. Come here. Stand in front of me.” He added in a patently false voice, “Please.”
Nicki swallowed her excitement. Determined to be as blasé as he was, she purred, “Hmm, you prefer not to see me? Does that allow you to pretend that I am whoever you wish me to be? Perhaps some unsuspecting woman who walked in the room and you can order her to do anything you desire—and she’ll obey?”
His low chuckle sent shards of anticipation flaring through her weary body.
“Yes, to part one of your question. I can and will do whatever I wish to the woman standing before me. And yes, you will obey. As to the second part, that you could be simply any woman? You are sorely mistaken. There is only one you, Nicki. And you are the only woman I love and will ever love.”
Nicki forced herself to smile, to appear cool, willing her trembling legs to stop shaking. She shrugged and tossed her head.
“You love me, but you don’t want to see me? You prefer to keep me in the dark? Again, that begs the question. Either you don’t like my body or you want me to be whatever and whoever you want at the moment.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much? And that occasionally you say and do foolish things? Such as imply that I don’t like your body? That I don’t crave it like an addict craves heroin? Or a blind man longs to see the light?”
Rafe shifted in his chair. Even in the dark, his intensity was tangible. Nicki took an involuntary step backward.
His voice dropped further, a quiet sound with an intimation of menace.
“Go stand by the window, Nicki. Open the drapes.”
Nicki frowned. Now he wanted to have her in front of the windows, visible to anyone who looked their way?
As if he could read her mind, he laughed softly.
“No Darling, I’m not putting you on display. You are mine, only mine. But I want to savor you. See you take off one piece of your outrageous clothing at a time—while the moonlight heightens your every curve, amplifies your breathtaking beauty. You needn’t be concerned about privacy. We are on the top floor of a fifty-story building. Only the stars and I will see you naked.”
Nicki strolled toward the floor-to-ceiling windows affecting as much nonchalance as she could conjure. Damn, how did he mange to do this to her? Reduce her to a bundle of emotions, a giddy girl longing for his touch. She punched the automatic opening device on the draperies and blinked at the sudden light flooding the dark room. The sensation was momentary. In seconds her eyes adjusted and the room settled into an exotic blend of silvery moonlight and sumptuous shadows. Nicki sucked in a gasp of air as tingles of excitement cascaded over her. Leave it to her sensualist lover to know precisely how to set the scene, to enhance his—and, her—pleasure.
“Unzip your dress, Nikita.”
Nicki quivered at his use of her full name. Only her father and Rafe knew her Russian name. To protect her from his old and new enemies, Yuri Petrokov had sent his infant daughter to America with the Valley girl name Nicki Powers instead of the incendiary Nikita Petrokov. Like Rafe, Nicki liked the hint of danger her given name evoked. But it was a danger she and her father trusted only to Rafe.
Reaching back, Nicki slid the zipper slowly down the length of her dress to where it ended at her curvy bottom. She eased the clingy fabric over her hips inch by inch then gave it a little push, sliding the miniscule concoction to the floor. Gratified by Rafe’s audible intake of air, she lifted her chin and perched her hands on her hips, confident he would approve of her risqué underwear. How could he not approve? He’d given her the silky black pushup bra that put her lush breasts on display. The matching panties hung low on her hips, barely covering her ass. She’d added the lace-topped thigh-high silk stockings because she knew the effect they had on her sexually charged lover. Groaning, she realized that she dressed for him even when he wasn’t there.
His voice, tinged with desire, brought her back to the present.
“Now, Darling, the bra. But take it off slowly. Let me relish the revelation of your dazzling breasts. And, Nicki? When you take off the bra, offer your breasts to me like the treasures that they are.”
Nicki swallowed hard fighting against the sensations his erotic command invoked. She knew how much he liked the unveiling of her body. How he savored it, craved it. His fevered gaze underscored the heady power she had. But his response drove her to a high peak of desire, made her want to throw off her clothes and beg him to take her. As much as she wanted to tease him, torture him, make him pay for what he did to her agitated body, she was nonetheless helpless to disobey.
She unhooked the front clasp and lifted her breasts to him. The lavish globes overflowed her hands. Although his face was masked by the shadows, the glow from his cigarette revealed the hunger in his eyes. Her breasts felt heavy, tingly. Her nipples hardened and tightened under his gaze. She gnawed on her bottom lip determined not to let him see how much his open appraisal aroused her, how it fanned the smoldering flames in her belly.
Not able to hold back her soft moan, she whispered, “Please, Rafe. I… I need you.”
Rafe ground out his cigarette and rose to his feet. How could he explain to her what the sight of her did to him? How he’d waited for over an hour for her to arrive. How he’d anticipated her entrance. But nothing he imagined could come close to the real Nicki. In the moonlight her bright red hair blazed. The rosy flush on her cheeks deepened under his scrutiny. Dark brows and thick lashes highlighted the unusual tilt to her eyes. But it was the color that was most arresting. In the darkened room her eyes shone like bright yellow stars. A stark narrow band of black circled the gleaming topaz. Rafe had never seen a she-wolf in the wild. He was confident if he did, she would look like Nicki.
As much as his body cried out to hold her, Rafe forced himself to step back. He had to see the rest of her. He growled remembering Senator Michaels’ lewd reference to her pubic hair. If only the asshole knew. Nicki was a natural redhead, but there was no confirming evidence between her legs. No, Rafe’s audacious lover had removed all the hair and replaced it with the most erotic adornment he’d ever seen.
Motioning to her panties, he murmured, “Take them off. Leave on the stockings and those outrageous shoes.”
Nicki gasped at his peremptory command. Her face flamed but she made an obvious effort to compose herself. Lifting her chin at a saucy angle, she turned her back to him. Winking at him over her shoulder, she bent over and wiggled her glorious bottom. Rafe choked, watching his personal sex kitten pull her panties down, baring the finest ass he’d ever seen. He tried to swallow, but it was an impossible task. She stepped out of her panties dragging them off over one high-heeled shoe then the other. Turning to face him, with a careless flip of her fingers, she tossed him the lacy scrap. Rafe closed his eyes and buried his nose in the fragrant silk. After a moment, he forced himself to look at her bare crotch.
The sight of her brazen embellishment never failed to send his dick into orbit. Before they’d met, Nicki had tattooed an astonishing multicolored snake on her mound. The impudent serpent’s daring tongue hovered audaciously close to her clitoris.
At the thought of the Senator and his cronies ogling her, rage thundered through his veins. It was a wonder his pounding heart didn’t crash through his chest. It didn’t help knowing that the Senator would die a violent death if he approached her again.
Rafe focused on the beautiful woman in front of him. Reminding himself how he wanted to hold her, taste her, drink in her erotic smell, he throttled his fury at the man who had insulted her. This was not the time for anger. He would deal with the Senator later. Now was the time to show Nicki how much he loved her.
The first time they met, her unusual fragrance, a mix of spice and sweet, called to him at a primal level. Now overladen with the musky odor of her arousal, Rafe gave in to its siren call. Unable to resist the draw of her heady fragrance, he moved toward her. Pulling her into his arms, an involuntary moan escaped his lips. Her lush body ov
erwhelmed him. Weaving his hands in her fiery curls, he tipped her head back, baring her throat to his lips. He nipped at the tender flesh, delighting in her soft whimpers. Tightening his grip on her hair he lifted her chin and began to kiss her. He was gentle at first, relishing her tiny gasps as he licked across the seam of her mouth forcing it open with his tongue. Once inside, the heat that had been building since she walked in the room flared. He drove deeper, harder into her mouth. Her whispery moans changed to groans. She grabbed at his hair tugging at the short strands, digging her fingernails into his scalp. Her urgency ignited his. His prick was iron hard, screaming for attention, impossible to ignore.
“Please, Rafe, please take me. Take me now. I’m crazy for you. I need you now.”
“Oh yeah, baby. I’ll take you.”
With a low animal growl, Rafe hauled her up against his body and wrapped her legs around his waist. Capturing her hands in one of his, he pressed her against the window, her hands above her head.
Hit with countless sensations, Nicki cried out. The slick cold of the window on her bare backside shocked her. Rafe’s arousal was hard against her belly. The rasp of his beard shadow scraped the tender skin on her throat. But nothing was more compelling than his husky commands, the naughty words he whispered in her ear, telling her what he was going to do to her, how she made him feel, and how he was going to fuck her harder, deeper than he ever had.
He groaned. “But first, baby, I gotta taste you.”
Nicki shrieked when he lifted her in his strong arms high against the window, draping her legs over his shoulders. The outrageous act and his lips against her bare crotch drove her over the edge. With a shuddering wail, she gave into the fiery sensations flooding her. But he didn’t stop. Before she could come down from her first orgasm, his talented tongue and teeth drove her to another and then a third.
As wave after shuddering wave flooded her, he urged her on, insisting that she could come again. When she was sure she would faint from the devastating pleasure, he slid her to the floor, his powerful body looming over her.
“Uh uh, baby. Keep your legs up. Here, over my shoulders. I need to come deep inside of you.”
He grabbed a cushion from the sofa and shoved it under her ass raising her hips even higher. Bending her legs tight against her chest, he positioned his hard cock at her entrance.
“Now, Nicki? Are you ready for me? Can I come inside of you? Can you take it, baby? Can you take me? All of me?”
“Oh God, Rafe! God yes. Come into me. Now!”
He thrust into her then pulled back at her cry.
Frantic, she shook her head from side to side and dug her fingernails into his shoulders.
“No! No, Rafe. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I need you!”
A harsh growl ripped from his lips. Slowly at first, he began to thrust into her. Soon his hunger was so great he could no longer hold back. The flood of her climax heightened by her keening wail was the final straw. No longer in control, he drove into her, fierce, deep until he could go no further. With a shout he gave into his powerful need, his roar filling the room. His release was so potent, so overwhelming, he felt his eyes roll back in his head.
~~~
They lay together panting, gasping for air. After many long moments Rafe found enough breath to speak.
“I love you, Nicki. You know that, don’t you, Darling?”
She murmured an incoherent affirmative, burying her face against his shoulder.
Rafe didn’t try to mask his passion. Eschewing his customary coolness, his aplomb, his voice shook.
“Baby, you need to know. I’ll kill any man who touches you, hurts you. I’m crazy thinking about that fucker Michaels, coming on to you. Thinking he has a right to accost you. I swear to God, I’ll kill him before this gig is over.”
Nicki rose up on one elbow and frowned at him.
“Is that why you came here tonight? To check up on me? You didn’t think I could take care of myself?”
Pressing his finger against her lips to cut off her incipient anger, Rafe’s soft voice was sheathed in steel.
“No, Nicki, don’t misunderstand. I know how strong you are, how talented. Except for Caleb and Grayson, you are the most accomplished member of the team. And hell, honey, there isn’t a goddamn one of us who can throw a knife the way you can. That skill alone makes you formidable.”
He stroked her cheek, and gazed deep in her eyes refusing to let her look away. He needed her to understand.
“I don’t care if Michaels is the fucking President of the United States of America. What happened today is unforgivable.”
Her frown deepened, then a soft smile lit her eyes.
“So, the big bad Alpha dog came bounding in? To avenge the insult to his mate?”
Rafe pinched her cheek and chuckled at her shriek.
“Yeah, that’s why I came.”
Stroking her cheek, he laughed. “And… to fuck the hell out of you.”
Nicki snorted then snuggled up against him.
“Well, you can check off that box, big guy.”
Rafe rolled her onto her back then took her hand and wrapped it around his burgeoning staff.
“If I’m not mistaken, there’s a few more boxes that need to be checked. What do you say, Darling? Times a’wasting. We only have five hours until morning.”
Her laugh ended in a muffled squeal as he settled in on top of her, silencing her protest the best and most effective way he could.
Chapter 3
Rafe came to Washington as little as possible. The reek of cash for access offended him—as did the supercilious, sycophantic exchanges among arrogant men who actually despised one another. Since most of his clients came from either D.C. or New York, he often had to hold his nose and venture to the home base of America’s ‘ruling’ class. But in order to hire him, Rafe insisted prospective clients meet him on his turf. To retain his services, he forced them to traipse to his elaborate retreat center in the Pocono Mountains. When he needed to travel, Rafe shanghaied one of his seven private jets, two of which were luxuriously outfitted for his frequent international forays.
In his years as an upstart Delta Force operative Rafe earned the label “hard to handle” from his superiors. Which was an accomplishment, considering his associates. Rafe’s superiors weren’t far off the mark. From the time he was a kid in the violent slums in Paris, Rafe never met a rule he didn’t break or an authority figure he didn’t despise. His current company, International Security Associates, operated so far off the grid, it didn’t formally exist. He never refused a project no matter how unsavory. The only requirement was that his potential clients were able to pay his outrageous fees. His clients were power brokers from every sector. To a man they would deny with their dying breath that they needed help. But when they did, they turned to the urbane Frenchman with the charming manners and quiet rage in his eyes.
Rafe hired tough men, primarily dissatisfied former special operatives who were as dismissive of authority as Rafe was. Make that men and one woman. He took on Nicki Powers as a favor to Yuri Petrokov, his mentor and the man who’d saved his life. Rafe knew from the moment he met the stunning redhead that she was trouble. He couldn’t fault her fighting skills. She could out-shoot three quarters of the ISA associates and had black belts in four different forms of martial arts. And damn, she was Dark Phoenix with a knife. What he didn’t know when he met the audacious vixen was that he would fall in love with her and spend the next year trying to convince her to marry him. Something pre-Nicki—he’d sworn he’d never do.
~~~
Rafe strode into Percy’s, the high-end Georgetown restaurant, where the political elite did much of their official business. After a short conversation with the maître d’, he headed toward the table where Senator Michaels and his aide, Philip Reeves, were schmoozing one of the Senator’s major contributors.
Walking up to the table next to Michaels’, Rafe nodded to the couple who were eating their breakfast and pointe
d to the empty chair at their table.
“Excuse me. Will you be needing this chair?”
When they indicated that they would not, Rafe picked it up and placed it next to a startled Senator Michaels.
Phil Reeves frowned and rose to his feet.
“What the fuck?”
Ignoring the pudgy bespeckled aide, Rafe sat down in the chair and focused on the Senator.
Senator Michaels glared at him then quickly recovered, pasting the political equivalent of a smile on his face. “Do I know you?”
Rafe shrugged. “You do now.”
An attentive waiter appeared instantly at his elbow.
“Coffee, Mr. Boudin?”
“Yes, thank you, Thomas.”
“The usual, Sir?”
Rafe responded, “Yes, but don’t skimp on the—”
The small man’s lined face crinkled in a smile.
“I know, Sir. Don’t skimp on the milk—and no cream. May I bring you a Brioche? Manuel just baked a fresh batch. “
Rafe smiled at the diminutive man that he’d known for years and shook his head.
“Not this morning, Thomas.”
He saw Reeves and the Senator exchange a glance. Both men looked decidedly uneasy. Rafe turned to the third man at the table who was making a point of staring at a non-existent speck on the linen tablecloth.
“Good morning, Francis. How is the liquor business? And the garment industry? I understand that you and Tony plan to open a sweat shop in the Marianas.” Glancing at the Senator, he added, “Are you likely to get that tax waiver that you need to do business offshore?”
The longtime lobbyist who was rumored to have ties to organized crime met his gaze for a quick moment then flushed and mumbled an unintelligible response.
At that point, Reeves drew himself up like the good aide that he was and spoke in a low tone glancing nervously around the room.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Boudin. Your reputation precedes you. Senator Michaels is a stalwart supporter of the military. We both thank you for your service. How can we help you?”