“Lovely to meet you, Dominique,” he said, his eyes devouring me hungrily. “Unfortunately, I cannot stay, but still I wanted to say hello. I hope we will meet again sometime.”
Before I could respond, he turned and walked out of the lounge. I considered following him, but instinctively knew that would look suspicious. My pulse raced as I realized I’d just blown my big chance, and even worse, might have ruined the entire operation due to my inability to think and act more quickly.
I sighed, disappointedly sinking into my chair. After a few minutes, I gathered my things and headed for the door.
* * *
“So he just said hello, then left?”
Musgrave poured me a scotch back in my hotel room. I had called Vitek with the bad news as soon as I was away from the hotel, and he instructed me to go back to my room and that we would meet again the next morning.
I took a swig and said, “Yeah, introduced himself then left. Said he hoped we’d see each other again.”
“So there’s hope,” Musgrave offered. “Did it seem like there was any chemistry?”
I frowned. “How the hell should I know? We only spoke for a few seconds.” I was disappointed in myself for not acting quicker, not figuring out some way to interact with him.
Musgrave clapped me on my back and said, “We’ll get him tomorrow, then. This isn’t over.”
I had to wonder, though.
The following morning Kathy, Musgrave and I met with Vitek again, and he listened to my description of what had occurred at the Hotel 41’s executive lounge. After giving it careful thought, he decided I should try again that evening.
“Maybe he had pressing business,” Vitek said. “But it seems like he noticed you. Let’s make one more attempt tonight. If you fail to plant the bugs tonight, though, we’ll have to give up and try to find another way.”
I knew that “another way” wouldn’t include me. Vitek asked the other two to wait outside, then gave me what he probably thought was a pep talk.
“Agent Mercer,” he began, “I don’t need to tell you that this operation is critical to our chances of gaining intel on Lazarenko and the people he interacts with. It’s vital that you find a way to get to his room and plant those bugs, one way or another. Tonight you’re likely going to have to take a more proactive role and not wait for him to make the first move.”
I nodded and promised to do my best. Normally I would have been intimidated making the first move with a man as ridiculously sexy as Lazarenko, but Kathy had succeeded once in making me look smoking hot and I had confidence that she would do it again.
Kathy called the tailor to order another outfit for me, then took me to get my makeup redone and my hair touched up. I had brought the dress, lingerie and accessories from the previous night’s attempt so she could return them.
I again waited nervously in my room until Kathy showed up. The lingerie was the same style of La Perla, but this time in burgundy with a bra. I could see my nipples peeking through the top of the lace demi cup. It felt luxurious against my body and I made a mental note to buy that set, assuming I could afford it. The dress was similar to the previous night’s dress, this time in dark red with only one slit. After slipping on the heels and a silver necklace with a single gray pearl, I appraised myself in the mirror.
I didn’t need Musgrave’s approval this time. I looked amazing, even better than the previous night. Something deep inside told me I could seduce Lazarenko, at least enough to get him back to his room.
I could do this.
* * *
Sasha Lazarenko walked into the Hotel 41 executive lounge just before nine-thirty, before I’d even finished my first “cocktail” of Coke and soda water. He wore black jeans and a dark button-down shirt again, this time with a nice suit jacket on top. I looked up as he entered, then quickly looked away. A second later he was standing in front of me.
“Dominique, right?”
That luscious voice and the handsome face I saw when I turned to him made me forget for a second that it was a dangerous international criminal addressing me.
“Yes,” I smiled.
“May I join you?” he asked, not waiting for an answering before sliding onto the brown leather seat across the table from me. “Are you here alone?”
“Tonight, yes,” I replied, focusing on my accent. “Last night I was waiting on a friend.”
“But you came back, alone this time. Looking for me, I hope.” Lazarenko was indeed arrogant, but charmingly so.
The waiter arrived and Lazarenko order a Stoli Elit, a vodka I’d never heard of but made a note to research for future reference. “What are you drinking?” he asked.
“Rum and Coke,” I told the waiter.
“Pyrat on the rocks, no Coke,” Lazarenko instructed him. “You will love this,” he told me. “It’s the best.”
“You are from France?” he asked as we waited for our drinks.
“Yes, from Lyons,” I replied.
“Je suis très heureux que vous reveniez me voir ce soir.”
It came so quickly that it threw me, but I got the gist of it: Lazarenko was glad I had returned to see him.
“Peut-être que je suis ici pour voir un autre homme,” I fired back with a sly smile, telling him that maybe I was waiting for someone else.
He smiled, then said, “Let’s speak English. I fear my French has become stale.”
I was relieved I wouldn’t have to concentrate so hard; my French wasn’t yet where it needed to be, though I was getting close.
Lazarenko was right — the Pyrat rum was delicious, and smooth enough to sip straight. I could tell it was strong, though, so I went slowly. We made small talk for nearly an hour, and I could feel a chemistry building between us. I easily answered most of his questions with the backstory details the Agency had provided me. When I asked what he did for living, he said he traded rare minerals.
“Like diamonds?” I said with a twinkle in my eye.
“Something like that,” he replied. “Only much more difficult to find.”
The flirting continued and I was comfortable that I had him where I wanted him. I didn’t want to appear too eager to invite myself back to his room, however, knowing it would be much more subtle if I could instead move him to extend that same invitation.
As I neared the bottom of my second drink, I knew I would have to make a play to get Lazarenko back to his room soon. A slight buzz wasn’t a bad thing, but one more drink would slow down my thinking and leave me too vulnerable. Lazarenko — who insisted I call him Sasha — said something he obviously thought was funny, and I leaned toward him as I laughed, giving him a better view of my cleavage. When I came back up, I caught him looking. He curled a finger to beckon me closer, as if to tell me a secret. Instead, when I leaned toward him a second time, he slipped that finger into the neckline of my dress, brushing it against my breast as he pulled the material away from my body slightly so he could glance inside.
It was an audacious move, and one that would have gotten a slap from me in any other setting. In this case, though, it was exactly what I needed. I quickly pulled backwards and looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed, but the few people there were otherwise occupied.
“You are a very bad boy, Sasha,” I scolded him, trying my best to look simultaneously excited. Truth be told, that part was easy. Despite his bold advance, Lazarenko was so handsome and such a great flirt that I’d been turned on for some time. But what could I do to get him to ask me back his room?
Lazarenko solved my problem with a simple request: “Dominique, come with me. I would like to remove that lovely dress.”
Again, that absurd cockiness, as if he knew I wouldn’t refuse such a crass demand.
“Is that an invitation?” I asked, hesitating slightly to make my eventual acceptance seem more believable.
“Sasha Lazarenko does not invite,” he said softly. Looking at me with eyes that told me resistance was pointless, he added, “He insists.”
/> I was surprised to feel a buzz of excitement in my chest as we had a brief staredown.
Finally I broke the silence. “It would be fun to try to resist you, Sasha,” I said, standing up. “But to be honest, this dress is a little tight.”
Lazarenko offered me his hand and we walked out of the lounge together toward the lift. He was tall, at least a foot taller than my own five-foot-four. He held my hand tenderly while we waited, smiling at me in anticipation as I tried not to look too easy. I felt that way, though, the same slutty feeling I had when I picked up men in dive bars. It was a feeling I’d made peace with years ago, and had even come to embrace it because it meant I was getting what I wanted. The lift arrived and we stepped inside. Typical of older European elevators, it was small and cramped inside. As the doors closed, I could smell Lazarenko’s cologne. I glanced at his shoes and could tell they were expensive. I had to admit, this man had exquisite taste.
Suddenly the car jolted and I looked back up to see Lazarenko’s hand at the control panel. He had pushed the emergency stop button. There was no alarm, but we were no longer moving. His arm wrapped around my shoulder and he pulled me toward him, tilting my chin up with his other hand as he pressed his lips to mine.
My stomach flipped upside down as his tongue parted my lips. Lazarenko was an amazing kisser and between that, the expensive rum in me and the fact that I hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months, I felt myself become very excited. I melted into the kiss, giving back as much as I was receiving. He clinched me tighter, pressing his body to mine, and I moaned softly when I felt an erection against me.
Lazarenko broke the kiss, staring into my eyes as he released me. As I gazed back at him, his hands moved and I looked down to see him reach into his zipper to bring out an already hard cock. Lazarenko calmly smiled, placing his hands on my shoulders and gently but firmly pushing me down. I was appalled by yet another brazen move on his part. Thinking quickly, I wrapped my hand around his erection, feeling its warm hardness against my palm as I stroked it.
“Sasha, let’s wait until we’re in your room,” I breathed lustfully, trying not to spoil his mood.
Lazarenko just shook his head no and continued to press down on my shoulders. “We start here,” he said, “then we continue in my room.”
Armed with a guarantee that we would go to his room, I made a snap decision to go along with his elevator foreplay idea, slowly descending to my knees in front of him. I looked at Lazarenko’s erection for a moment, relieved to find it so aesthetically pleasing. I knew that what I was about to do was my job, but it made it easier that he had such a beautiful piece of equipment. My tongue teased him a bit, then I opened my mouth and took him in.
I felt Lazarenko’s hands on my head, playing with my hair. In no time at all, he was so damned hard that I began looking forward to having him inside me. I had to remind myself that I was there to plant the bugs in his room with as little interaction as I could get away with. He held my hair to the side and watched shamelessly as I serviced him. His other hand slipped down my shoulder across my collarbone, then into the top of my dress so he could gently caress my breast.
I felt I’d done what Lazarenko had asked of me and tried to stand up, but he put his hand back on my shoulder to keep me on my knees. “More, please. You are very good,” he said with that inviting accent. I hesitated, then took him back in my mouth again. This man sure knew what he wanted and expected to get it.
I heard the bell signaling that the lift was being called to another floor. I began to remove my mouth, but Lazarenko held my head in place. “Just a little more,” he said. I continued and an instant later was surprised when, with no warning whatsoever, he erupted. With his hand still holding my head firmly in place, I had no choice but to swallow and keep performing until he finally released me. As I stood and glared at him, he pushed the emergency stop button again, then quickly zipped his pants as the car lurched upward. A second later it stopped and the doors opened.
As we stepped out past an older couple, the woman smiled at us, then said, “What a lovely couple you two make.”
When the elevator closed, he smiled smugly and said, “So now we are a couple, Dominique. I like you already.”
I didn’t know how to respond, seeing as how he’d given me no choice regarding the blowjob, and the jerk hadn’t bothered to warn me that he was going to come. I chose not to say anything, but let him take my hand again as he led me down the hall. This is strictly work, I reminded myself, his taste still fresh on my tongue.
Lazarenko’s suite was small, but beautifully appointed. There was a sitting room with a couch and chairs around a coffee table, a separate bedroom, and a marble-tiled bath. The mostly black-and-white decor somehow worked with the cream-colored walls, giving everything an elegant sheen. He tossed his jacket on the couch, then asked if I wanted a drink. Although I told him no, he came back from the bedroom a moment later with two glasses.
“To a new friendship,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.
Not likely, I thought. The elevator blowjob had served to remind me of my mission, which was to plant the bugs with a minimum of interaction, then get out of there without arousing suspicion. I pretended to take a drink. Lazarenko said, “Excuse me one moment, please. Make yourself at home,” then headed for the bathroom.
As soon as the door shut, I opened my purse and flipped open my compact. I triggered the hidden compartment behind the mirror and fished out one of the bugs, removing the backing and palming the sticker. I walked quickly to the TV, looked at the bathroom door, then placed the sticker on the rear of the TV.
I felt a thrill of accomplishment as I retrieved the other bug and headed for the bedroom. I hadn’t even reached the bedroom TV when I heard the bathroom door open and Lazarenko called my name. The sticker was still in my palm when he entered the room a second later.
“There you are,” he said. “What are you doing in here?”
I turned to face him, trying to appear outwardly calm while my mind reeled. Reaching up with my free hand, I pulled my dress and bra down on one side, exposing a naked breast to Lazarenko.
“Come here, Sasha,” I said lustfully.
He was on me quickly, pulling down the other side of my dress to expose me further. I threw my arms around his neck, clapping the sticker onto the back of his shirt collar as his hands began to play with my tits. Knowing I had to get the shirt off of him, I swiftly undid the buttons, peeling it back over his shoulders and tossing it on the dresser next to the TV. Thankfully, the sticker was not visible.
That little crisis averted, I was now faced with one of a different type: I was well on my way to having full-on sex with Sasha Lazarenko.
Eight
My only hope — that Lazarenko wouldn’t have had time to fully recover from the orgasm he’d had moments earlier and would be unable to get it up again so soon — was dashed when I unzipped his pants and lowered them to see he was already halfway there. He stepped out of his pants before he slid my dress up over my head. When he knelt to slip off my heels, I put my hands on his shoulders and felt his muscles ripple. Lazarenko had a broad chest and no visible tattoos, and when he stood up and stepped backwards I saw an absolutely flat stomach and washboard abs. This was the body of a mechanical engineer? Damn, he was one handsome man.
At the moment, he was looking my body up and down as he unclasped my bra and let it fall. I felt self-conscious standing there clad only in panties and wondered if Lazarenko found my curvy body too big for his liking. Within seconds he had dispelled that notion, nudging me backward onto his bed, then guiding my panties down over my hips and tossing them to the side. His own naked body provided ample evidence Lazarenko did indeed like what he saw.
“What a shape you have,” he said as his eyes roamed over my naked form. Despite his being an arrogant jerk and the fact that I was on a potentially dangerous mission, it felt amazing to have such a hot man compliment my body. All of that work I’d been doing with my trainer was
paying off.
Lazarenko climbed up on the bed, spreading my legs wide as he knelt between them and continued to stare while he slickened his thumb with saliva and used it to gently stroke my exposed flesh. Despite the danger, despite my not knowing this man at all, despite everything, I was tremendously excited. Dr. Morello’s words about keeping my sex life separate from my work rang in my head as I reached for Lazarenko’s erection. I remembered a former lover’s description of him in his file as “sexually exhausting and prone to non-standard requests” and wondered where this might lead.
He leaned over my body as he reached for the nightstand next to the bed and pulled a condom from the drawer. I sucked in a breath when I felt his hardness pressing against my belly. Raising back up to his knees, he grinned at me as he unrolled the latex over his sizable erection. Then he ever-so-slowly pushed into me, never taking his eyes off of mine. It seemed to take forever before he was completely inside of me and I heard myself involuntarily moan with pleasure.
Lazarenko lowered his body to mine, supporting himself with his arms while his chest hovered just above me. It felt so decadently sexy — such an elegant room, the luscious bedding, and this incredibly hot man taking his time ravishing me. I had to keep reminding myself why I was there. I turned away from him, burying my face in the pillow as he slowly picked up his pace. One hand found my cheek and turned me back toward him. As he hovered above me, he gestured to his eyes with two fingers, giving me silent but unmistakable instructions not to break eye contact with him.
I did as told, staring into his hazel eyes, green and brown hues looking intensely back at me. His pace continued to increase. Balancing himself with one arm, he slid a hand between our lower bellies and I felt his thumb stroking me again. A strange noise gurgled up from my throat, then a heavy moan. Holy shit, this man was a talented lover. I felt the vague stirrings of an orgasm and told myself it was okay to enjoy the physicality of my work, as long as I completed my mission before leaving his room. Once I made that mental leap, I gave in to the rhythm of his thumb and the insane hardness of him inside of me.
Sleeping With the Enemy Page 6