To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series)

by Aubrey, Cecilia; Almeida, Chris

  “How did you manage to get through security?” His eyes didn’t leave her figure, watching her like a predator watched his prey.

  “John was downstairs. The guard I met the first day I called on you for a visit. He remembered me.”

  “Ah…another caught under your spell.”

  “Hey, anything to get up into the tower. I needed to rescue my prince.”

  The brightness of his smile faded at her comment. “You shouldn’t be here. The whole reason why I’m here is to focus on work. Definitely not happening when you’re around.” His mouth quirked with humor. “You are way too eager, Miss.”

  “I am. What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?”

  “I might.” His words were playful, but the meaning was not as his tone took on a dark, dangerous, raspy quality.

  “Promises, promises.”

  Stephan considered the glint of mischief in her eyes. Their relationship had progressed over time and they were embarking into a new phase of discovery. One in which they could expose their most intimate fantasies. Jessica had hinted at some. He, in turn, had kept a tight lid on his, treating her like a fragile, porcelain doll. She wasn’t taking that treatment lightly and pushed his buttons all the time, almost as if knowing that if she stuck to it, he would eventually cave to his deepest desires.

  His reaction was immediate. He stood and walked around the desk to where she remained motionless, waiting. Threading his fingers in her short blonde hair with one hand, he cupped the back of her neck and covered her mouth with his. There was nothing tender in the kiss as he plunged his tongue in her mouth, taking the kiss deep, hard.

  His fear and anger at a future without her blended into that biting kiss and took away the restraint of the last couple of weeks. His hand tightened in her hair and on her neck as he allowed her to experience all of him, his desire to take and keep what he had conquered.

  He broke the kiss and turned her, swiftly pressing her to the edge of his polished mahogany desk. Her hands fell on the surface and she glanced over her shoulder. “Stephan?”

  His arm swept the papers, pen, and phone aside. “Bend over.” There was a biting edge to his command. It wasn’t a request. It was an order.

  “But—”

  “Do as I say, Jessica.” He followed his command with a press of his hands between her shoulders, forcing her closer to the desk.

  Jessica’s heart raced out of control and a liquid heat flashed through her. She anchored her hands on the smooth polished surface, but his firm push made her hands slip and pressed her chest down against the desk. The cool wood felt refreshing against her heated cheek. Her breath hitched, knowing her skirt had inched up her thighs as she bent over.

  She held her breath in anticipation, unsure where the little play was going. Jessica jumped when his fingers skated up the back of her thigh and slipped under her skirt, trailing lazy circles across her butt cheek. The brush of his fingers soothed her and she breathed out a soft sigh, sinking further against the desk.

  She raised her head and tried to catch his eye. “Steph—hey!” she cried out as her tender skin throbbed from a sharp slap. She tried to straighten and turn from the desk, but Stephan pinned her thighs against it and pressed his weight on her. A hard slap burned across her other cheek and she gasped.

  His warm moist breath caressed her ear and his voice shimmered with barely checked passion. “I said I might have to punish you,” he whispered, running his tongue along the shell of her ear and nipping it before lifting off of her. Jessica’s throat tightened with excitement and her breath came in shallow gulps of air. Heat surged in her veins and straight down to her throbbing clit.

  Her breath caught as a warm wetness spilled between her thighs, soaking her panties. Jessica thought she had died and found heaven. The few lovers she had experienced were young, gentle, and sweet. Although she appreciated the gentler side of a man, she had always craved more—a man who would take it a little further. She had fantasized about that. Many times. Jessica had never voiced her wishes then or now. Yet Stephan seemed to be attuned to her thoughts and gave her what she desired—something primal, darker.

  Her heart almost stopped when his firm hands brushed her waist and the curve of her ass. She jumped at the touch of his palms as they glided up the outside of her thighs, hooked her panties with his fingers, and yanked them down to her ankles.

  “Step up.” Jessica complied and Stephan freed her from the tiny swatch of cotton.

  “Spread your legs.” Jessica hesitated. “Now!” he rasped.

  Shifting her stance, Jessica followed his demand. Cool air wafted up her bare legs, sending a shiver crawling up her spine. She was very aware of where his warm, firm, persuasive fingers touched her skin as he pressed one palm on the small of her back and the other smoothed over her skin, inching closer to the heat at the juncture of her thighs.

  The soft feel of Jessica’s supple skin under his fingers was tantalizing. Leaning over, he kissed the back of her neck as his fingers slipped inside her already wet sex.

  “So wet. You seem to like being punished, Jessica,” he moaned in her ear, rocking his fingers in and out of her slick, tight channel.

  “Only by you,” Jessica panted breathlessly against the surface of the desk.

  Her words and the outline of his hand on her now rosy heart-shaped ass broke the dam Stephan had built around his control. Undoing his belt and zipper with one hand, he freed his cock. He positioned himself at her folds, and with one fast, deep thrust, buried himself in her heat.

  They both moaned as his cock stretched and filled her, her welcoming flesh enveloping him whole. “You feel good, so good,” he breathed out in a rough whisper.

  Jessica’s stomach clenched. “Stephan!” she cried out, grinding back against him as he thrust again, harder, slamming her against the desk. She loved the feel of his muscular frame pressing against her back. A shiver of need ripped through her. She reached back for him, digging her nails in the hard skin of his hip and held tight as he pumped into her.

  “Stephan, I want to feel you deeper!” she breathed as they strained toward each other, his hips colliding with her ass.

  With a groan, Stephan gripped her hips and jerked her against him in rhythm to his thrusts. Jessica sobbed and leveraged her hands against the edge of the desk, pressing back against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and fisted her hair with his other hand, pulling her against his chest. “God, you’re so hot,” he whispered against her ear as he rocked tighter against her.

  Jessica reached her hand up to cup his neck and arched her body from him, taking him deeper. With a growl of lust, he pushed her down on the desk and pinned her with his weight. Stephan increased his tempo and changed the depth of each plunge.

  Faster and harder, his hips pumped until they almost pushed the desk out of its place. His fingers dug deep into the smooth flesh of her buttocks. Her long drawn-out moan was an electrical current that travelled straight to his cock. His heart felt like it would burst from his chest. Wanting the moment to last a little longer, he changed pace, moving his hips in a circular motion, and he couldn’t resist—he delivered another sharp slap followed by a gentle caress to her reddened curves. Her body reacted to it by pulsing and squeezing him tight and she cried out, “Stephan…please…I need—!”

  Stephan couldn’t resist her pleas. Increasing his tempo and moving one hand underneath her, he pressed his thumb against her nub, circling and massaging it as he took her from behind. She moaned in pleasure, her voice a thick sensual drawl. He felt his cock harden even more. “It feels so good inside. You’re so fucking tight. I can feel you squeezing me!”

  Jessica’s heart raced and her breathing came in short gasps. Her body began to tremble as the first threads of an orgasm danced under her sensitized skin. She gripped the edge of the desk and pushed her ass up hard against him. She pressed her forehead into the desk, enjoying the rough feel of his fingers circling and rubbing her swollen sensitive flesh. “Stephan!”
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  Jessica quaked and seized around his shaft tightly as the burning heat of an orgasm hit her. With a shuddering breath, she released the desk and covered his hand with hers, guiding his touch against her clit. Her spine arched and she ground against him as a silent scream ripped from her in a burst of air. When she could finally breathe, she gasped out, “Now Stephan! Please, I need to feel you lose control!”

  Gripping her chin and turning her head toward him, Stephan took her mouth in a deep, searing kiss, sucking on her tongue as he continued to piston his hips into hers. He could feel her inner muscles squeezing him tightly, rhythmically drawing him closer and closer to his release.

  Jessica broke the kiss. “Oh, God!” She slammed her ass back against him giving her room to reach between them. She cupped his balls, squeezing and rolling them between her fingers.

  Her touch threw him over the edge. His release shot through him, hot and scorching. “Jessica! God!”

  Jessica shuddered with a second orgasm, her contractions caressing his shaft, milking him as he pushed into her with every pulse, every spurt. Spent, they collapsed onto the desk. A fine sheen of sweat covered their brows as his body caged hers. He held her tight as their breaths sawed hard in and out of their chests.

  When Stephan’s brain finally jumpstarted into gear, it felt as if a pit had lodged itself in his stomach. Had she really enjoyed their moment, or, when her own sense came upon her, would she run for the hills? Suddenly he was uncertain and unsure how to open a conversation. The smell of her luscious skin still enticed him and he shifted to move off her. Before he could pull out, Jessica tugged his hand to her mouth and placed a soft kiss in the center of his palm. Relief flooded him and the ache in his stomach eased. A gentle chuckle rippled past his lips while he trailed long lingering kisses on the back of her neck to the spot just between her shoulder blades.

  Jessica squeezed his hand. “What’s so funny?”

  Stephan pulled out from her and helped her from the desk and into his waiting arms, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, tasting, licking, and nipping every inch of her mouth. Jessica’s heart collided with her ribs at the intensity of the kiss and her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. Coming up for air, Stephan rested his forehead against hers.

  “That, little missy, should have taught you a lesson. I can see I misjudged you once again. You are a little surprise.”

  Jessica flashed a wicked grin and brushed her fingers across his jaw. “Have I told you how naughty I was earlier, alone in your room?”

  His eyes glittered with interest. “Let’s go home. You need to show me what you did so I can exact the proper punishment.”

  Her grin widened and her eyes sparkled. “Promises, Promises.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Off the Hook

  NEITHER THE SOUNDS OF TRAFFIC from the street below nor the hum of voices from the other apartment units could soothe or dampen Cassandra’s worry. She sat at her desk and stared blindly at the dark screen of her laptop, holding her usual cup of coffee, after Trevor had left for his first day at the job. The warmth cupped in her hands was not enough to chase the chill that had burrowed into her chest.

  Her mind burned with the memory of the events from the day before, reviewing and picking apart the conversation she had been privy to, the same way a scientist studies a nasty strain of bacteria. Even though she was confident Trevor could bluff his way with flying colors, her gut still clenched at the element of danger still uncharted when dealing with combustible individuals like those in that room.

  As she had listened in, she had paid careful attention to voice intonations and other details that would give her a better idea of who they were dealing with. The majority of her focus had centered on her new target: Boris. She had listened to the entire meeting and had captured her observations—the unspoken anger that threaded through Mikhailov’s voice, Boris’s caution, Trevor’s cockiness, and the eeriness that oozed from Sergei when his clipped tone pierced the connection. Her sense was that the mafia boss and his henchman were pure evil, without an ounce of guilt or remorse. Her greatest disappointment had been her inability to ascertain more of Boris’s intent.

  The searches she’d conducted while the meeting had taken place had also come up empty, and George and Jessica hadn’t yet contacted her with any additional findings. Cassandra had to admit that Boris intrigued her. There was very little to be found on him. She had been able to track down copies of both military and police force records; his honorable discharge from the military validated her father’s praises. She uncovered information showing that, a number of years later, he had retired from the police force and started his own security business similar to Robert’s. It was a couple of years after opening the agency that Boris’ name became linked to Mikhailov’s.

  What Cassandra had not found was the event that had brought the two together in the first place. It had to have been something major to instill the sense of trust Mikhailov had demonstrated during the meeting—trusting in Boris’ referral of Trevor and allowing him to watch the bank transaction take place.

  Boris’ comments around what he needed from them in return had been the biggest surprise. “Great favor,” she scoffed. His use of the mafia boss’s words you belong to me as his own threat to Trevor had left her blood frozen in her veins. Cassandra knew in her gut it would be something tricky, but she never imagined it would have Trevor toeing the line with danger so intimately.

  The unhappy turn of events weighed heavily on Cassandra’s shoulders and she wanted to get a handle on what they could be up against. “You never know when these things will bite you in the ass,” she muttered as she initiated a search on Pavel Zarev, the new player Mikhailov had so strategically placed on their game board. Data available on Pavel and his organization was fairly easy to access, and the file she’d created grew by the minute.

  Trevor would be interested in seeing more on the mafia boss he had inadvertently shafted. Zarev’s organization was an even bigger monster, more diversified than Mikhailov’s. He had deep ties with major banks, oil companies, and other considerably sized entities, as well as a member of his gang in the local government.

  “Talk about having your finger in every pie. Pavel could start his own bakery,” she mumbled.

  Cassandra’s pulse jumped when a flashing light appeared on the application bar. She opened the chat window and found a message from George.

  Cassie, I think I’m onto something. Still digging. Hang tight.

  Her shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. She had been hoping for more. Something that would get her closer to figuring out what Boris was up to. Hanging tight was all she seemed to be doing lately, and she chafed at the bit.

  Will be waiting, she responded, hammering the keys.

  Cassandra had no time or inclination to wallow in frustration. While she waited, she went into action. Calling up the video feeds from their own surveillance cameras, she searched for any frontal views of Boris. She planned to analyze the footage, find any possible hook on him, but to no avail. There were no useable shots.

  Trevor’s voice boomed over the speaker and Cassandra’s eyes darted to the video feed on her screen. He had reached the mansion

  *****

  The invigorating chilly morning wind greeted Trevor as he walked out of the apartment building. He lifted the collar of his wool coat and braved the rain on the short walk to Mikhailov’s mansion. Standing by the iron gates, he pressed the button above the speaker and waited until a voice demanded in Russian, “What do you want?”

  Trevor answered in kind, pretending to stumble over the words any newly arrived immigrant would know, “Hello? I was told to be here today. Mark Ivanov.”

  The speaker went silent. A few minutes later, the gates opened and he sauntered up the drive to the front door. He spoke, just loud enough for Cassandra to hear, “So far so good, a ghrá. Hopefully, this will be a walk in the park.”

  The door opened on cue with his approach. Deminov st
ood inside and nodded at Trevor, speaking in heavily accented but clear English, “Inside.” The order was given in a cold, severe tone.

  Deminov slammed the door shut behind him. Standing in the foyer, he noticed another man immediately behind the henchman.

  The second man extended his hand in greeting. “Hello, my name is Dmitriy Vlasov. Vladimir asked me to show you the computer room and explain the rules.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dmitriy. I’m Mark.” He grasped his hand in a firm shake. For a split second, Trevor felt welcomed to the place, an illusion destroyed when Deminov shoved him from behind and gave him a full pat down. Trevor stood motionless, arms outstretched, in wide stance as Deminov checked every single inch of him for weapons. He felt molested to a certain degree. Trevor froze when Deminov patted his back pocket and yanked out his ticket bundle.

  “What is this?”

  “Sightseeing tickets?” Trevor grinned, his humorous tone hiding the inner agitation at having the E&E tickets taken from him.

  Deminov scoffed and shoved the bundle back. Once he was satisfied Trevor wasn’t packing or carrying any other devices, he nodded at Dmitriy and slipped off down the hallway. Dmitriy directed Trevor with an extended hand in the opposite direction. He continued his dissertation in fluent English, not the least bit affected by Deminov’s rough handling of Trevor. “No cell phones are allowed, no pouches, or anything you can use to take components out of the room. Things are tight here after a developer was caught stealing hard drives.”

  Trevor nodded. “That sounds reasonable.” Addressing Dmitriy lightly, Trevor tried to assess his role and level of dedication to the organization. “You speak English perfectly. Have you just recently arrived in Russia?”

  Dmitriy glanced at Trevor, his face beaming at the compliment. “I was born in England to a Russian mother and English father. I speak both languages fluently.” Dmitriy artfully avoided answering the second question.