Russian Connection

by Lakes, Lynde

  She closed her hand over his shaft, massaging him, discovering him. His grateful moans heightened her excitement. But it wasn’t just the passion raging between them and the soothing waters flowing over them that eased her past heartaches and small injuries, it was love. “I’m staying,” he had whispered to her and she reveled in the memory and the flames now licking between them. Then all thoughts disappeared and she only felt the blood surging through her veins as she sought her crazed release.

  ****

  After they dried each other gently and lovingly with thick oversized towels, Nikki felt so loved. Then spent, yet invigotated, she and Dayd crawled nude into satiny sheets. She cuddled in Dayd’s arms. She lifted her head, offering and needing more of his kisses.

  Facing death had left her with an unsationable need to once again verify life and the love flowing between them. Dayd stroked her hair and she looked up at him. His face was a sculpture of strong angles and planes. Loving him with a love like she’d never before known, she entwined her arms around his neck and drew him closer. After a horrendous day where they’d almost lost their lives, she felt safe at last.

  He smiled down at her, the love in his eyes glinting brightly. He kissed her lightly. Then, with the tip of his tongue he traced her lower lip with maddening slowness, sending blazing sensations racing through her. He let out a passion-ridden groan and captured her lips in a full mouth taking. She tasted the sweet wine they’d shared earlier. He trailed expert fingers across her inflamed skin, touching her breasts, her thighs and then ever-so-gently he fondled her apex. His heat wrapped around her, rekindling and intensifying the hunger she felt for him every time he drew her into his arms.

  Crazed seconds passed. His body tensed. Hers was already throbbing like a Russian tuning fork. She reached for his penis and stroked him. They were both so ready….

  He kissed her hard and hot. His fire liquefied her limbs until she could only cling to him. Their nude bodies connected again and again as insatiable desire propeled them forward. Its strength and an indefinable something beyond and more powerful than basic need carried her along toward a wildness like none she’d ever known. She was caught in the sexual insanity, thrilling to the yearning that made her undulate faster and faster toward the penacle and blessed release. His hands caressed her back, catapulting her into a world of warm, delicious madness. When the multple orgasm rippled again and again over her, her joyeous scream echoed around the room. “Thank you, Dayd, thank you, thank you….”

  Epilogue

  From the kitchen of their new Reche Canyon ranch house, Nikki listened for the roar of Dayd’s car, eager to learn the final results of Godunov’s long, drawn out trial. Over the past twelve months most of the story had already come out. Sustov Vladimir was part of Godunov’s operation. He’d used the nudist colony and his bar to launder money. The Arrowhead Springs Hotel had no part in their operation. The owners and staff believed Godunov was the Russian clergyman he claimed to be.

  Nikki hoped the Mafia leader would be locked away forever, unable to hurt anyone the way he’d hurt Glenda. Her friend had healed, thank God, in time for her wedding next month to her favorite emergency medical technician, the Denzel Washington look-alike. Nikki felt a surge of joy. How lucky she and Glenda were to be alive and find their soul mates.

  Before leaving the room, Nikki peered into the big wicker basket at Mitzi, her milk-swollen Siamese who was busy nursing her three pink-tongued kittens. Nikki rubbed her own rounded tummy. “We’ve got something in common, girl. In about three months I’ll be a mama too.” She smiled down at Mitzi for a moment. “But right now I need to change and get my feet up.”

  Heading for the bedroom, she passed the den and Dayd’s computer. She smiled. He’d used enough leather and wood to soften the hard edges of a room filled with high-tech equipment. His powerful presence hung in the room, owning it, like he owned her heart. So far, he hadn’t missed his work in the CIA. He’d been too busy running their ranch and writing an experience-based Russian thriller.

  The bedroom was stuffy from being closed up all day. Nikki thrust open the slider. The soft Reche Canyon breeze fluttered the bedroom curtain against the frame. Winter had come and gone, and mockingbirds announced spring, the time of new beginnings.

  She quickly slipped out of her work clothes into her terry cloth robe. She loved her new position as chief controller, but coming home was the best part of the day.

  Was that Dayd’s car? A shiver of anticipation rippled up her spine. She stepped to the lanai and peered over the balcony. Her Camry sat alone in the driveway. The only sound was the whinny of Redboy, one of their two bays, grazing in the distant corral.

  Nikki sighed and went back inside. She propped up a pillow, sank to the bed and put her feet up, needing to relax a few minutes before starting dinner. She grabbed up a pencil and the first half of Dayd’s thriller and nestled into the pillow. He trusted and encouraged her critique. She hadn’t been reading long when she heard the familiar rhythm of boot-steps and she glanced up.

  Dayd stood in the doorway, holding Mitzi, stroking her lovingly. Nikki hadn’t heard the garage door open. Dayd grinned and gently put the Siamese down. “It’s over,” he said. “With Margo’s testimony, and the sets of records Sinclair found when they raided Vladimir’s place, Godunov and his gang are history.”

  “Thank God.” Nikki reached out her arms, impatient to feel Dayd’s strong, comforting warmth around her. He leaned over and lightly brushed her lips. His kiss sent a quiver through her. She clung to him, reveling in his familiar scent.

  Grinning like the bad boy of the year, he gently untangled himself from her arms, and, ignoring the instant fire ignited between them, continued his story. “Peter Ziyakbusky admitted killing Kitty Iverson.”

  Dayd was teasing her, making her wait, damn his sexy hide. Well, two could play that game, she thought forcing herself to concentrate on the case.

  She wasn’t surprised to hear that Ziyakbusky had murdered Luke’s mistress. After all, the man had killed Luke and Curt without batting an eye. “What’s Margo going to do now that the trial is over and Godunov is out of the picture?”

  “Witness Protection. Boris is helping her get a fresh start. New name, new life. He really cares for the kid. With his help, she’ll do okay.”

  Nikki pushed a tendril of hair from her face. “A romance in the making?”

  “The Bear says no. But his denial wasn’t very convincing.”

  “Well, maybe all he needs is a little persuading,” Nikki said in her lowest, throatiest voice. “That usually works with you, now doesn’t it, Mr. Author Man?” She patted the bed and lifted a brow.

  “Every time,” he said and began stripping, tossing his clothes about, revealing that firm, fit body she knew so well. When he slipped into bed with her, she snuggled into his warm, tender embrace. He parted her robe and rested his head on her bare belly, stroking the rounded abdomen, listening for his son’s heartbeat. “Hello, Davie-boy. Miss me?”

  “We both did,” she said, as tears rushed to her eyes. It didn’t matter that they’d only been apart since morning. Whenever he spoke so tenderly to their son, her heart melted.

  Dayd lifted his head and closed his mouth over hers. His tongue explored deeper. She lost herself in the moist warmth of his searching lips.

  He moved lower, and explored the valley between her breasts. She gasped as he found her nipple, drew it into his mouth, and sucked it into a bud of pulsating sensation.

  He paused. The adoration in his lopsided grin warmed her and in a voice deepened with emotion he asked, “Think you’ll tire of this after forty or fifty years?”

  “Never,” she said, trembling with an overwhelming love. “You?”

  “Nyet,” he said, stroking the inside of her thigh. He pressed close, sending a pulsing signal of his arousal.

  She laughed, and her voice trembled with anticipation. “Then nothing more needs to be said, repoh,” she said aptly calling him her hero.

&n
bsp; The End

  www.lyndelakes.com

  Other Books by Lynde Lakes:

  Murder in the Clear Zone

  Pointing Leaf

  Primitive Flame

  Star Fallen Lover

  Silent Cymbals

  Evernight Publishing

  http://www.evernightpublishing.com