To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series)

by Aubrey, Cecilia; Almeida, Chris

  Nathan flinched as images of Cassandra and Bauer whirled in his mind. But for the first time, he admitted to himself that his fight for her was over. Fidgeting on the couch, Nathan tossed and turned as he listened for any disturbances. All was quiet, including the back of the house where the bedrooms were located.

  Exhaling deeply, he set his gun at hand’s reach and folded his arms across his chest, hoping to grab some shuteye before they had to be up and on the road. The long hours at work, the panicked drive, and the jetlag finally beat him into oblivion.

  *****

  Sliding into awareness, Cassandra held her breath, hoping the wonderful dream she’d had was real. Shaking the last threads of sleep, she let her senses roam free. The warmth at her side enveloped her in a soothing cocoon. Breathing in deeply, a mixture of scents—clean and spicy—filled her nostrils and pierced her heart with images of Trevor’s arrival.

  In the low illumination provided by the bathroom light, she could see Trevor was still in the same position he had been in when they had drifted off earlier. Resting her head on her hand, Cassandra gently traced the outline of the bandage with her fingers. He would be stuck with a sling for several more weeks.

  She watched the steady rise and fall of her hand on his chest. A need to feel more of him, all of him, slammed into her, sucking the air from her lungs, sending a flow of dampness between her thighs. She rose to her elbow and her pulse beat a tad faster as she took in the length of his lean, muscular body. The line of his neck tempted her lips and the ridges of his abs called to her fingers. Of their own accord, they glided across the muscles of his flat stomach. A smile curved her lips as his cock twitched and hardened under her touch, as if cognizant of her deepest desires.

  Cassandra rose and eased her leg across his body, straddling him and bracing herself on her knees. She looked down on a still deeply asleep Trevor, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted, little puffs of air escaping past his lips. The events of the past hours, the injury, had taken a heavy toll on him. He remained undisturbed by her movements as she positioned his erection. She held her breath and in a single motion, slowly lowered her body onto his.

  Trevor jerked awake and was instantly alert as Cassandra’s warmth engulfed him, her muscles tightening around him. His breath hissed when she withdrew and impaled herself on his throbbing cock again, his moan mingled with hers as she ground her clit against his groin.

  The feel of her skin against his, her juices coating the juncture of their bodies, was better than the erotic dream he had been immersed in moments before. In his dream, her fingers were wrapped around his cock, the movement of her hand sliding up and down along his length, driving him mad. A dream so vivid, it had caused his cock to grow hard and a heavy ache in his balls. Reality was so much richer.

  Trevor’s heart seized in his chest when his eyes locked with hers and he saw the swirl of emotion in them. “Cassie—” his voice broke with huskiness as he brushed his hand in a soft caress from her thigh to her curvy hip.

  She arched her body against his and moaned softly, “I needed you, Trevor.”

  The emotions reflected in her eyes matched those constricting around his chest. He needed her more. “A bhean,” he whispered. A soft smile curved Cassandra’s lips at his words as she pressed against him. Her movements were slow, controlled, seeking both his and her pleasure without causing him more pain. His cock, clutched deep inside her, twitched and pulsed in response. Undulating her body, Cassandra kept a slow, sensual pace, lifting with her knees and slowly easing down again and again on him.

  His good hand gripped at her hip and his heels dug into the mattress each time she withdrew and lowered her body. Trevor thought he had died and gone to heaven when her taut nipples grazed his chest as she leaned over him until her lips hovered above his.

  “Shite, Cassie! I’ve missed you. This!” he whispered harshly, raising his head, closing the gap between them, and sealing his mouth to hers. Supporting her weight on her hands, she teased, scraped his lips with her teeth. Her beautiful thick hair fell around him in a rippling curtain as she nipped at his lips and licked along their seam before plunging her tongue deep inside.

  Trevor fisted her hair as he angled his head, taking control and intensifying the kiss, mimicking the action of their bodies with his tongue, sliding and dancing with hers. She continued to move her hips, alternating between shallow and deep penetrations. A groan rumbled deep in his chest with each skin-to-skin, groin-to-groin contact, with each circling of her hips and grinding motion. He mimicked her movement and pushed his hips off the bed, thrusting deeper into her. A moan escaped her mouth and rolled into his. Breaking from the kiss, her hair cascaded down her back as she arched her graceful body and rested her hands on his thighs, exposing her round breasts to him.

  The raw love etched on her face was too much to withstand. He swallowed the pain and, supporting himself on his good arm, covered her breast with his mouth, laving, sucking, licking her engorged nipple, then repeated the same on the other as she cupped them in offering to him.

  “Jeezus, Trevor! I’ve missed you, too! This…us!” Her breath hitched and her walls squeezed him tightly.

  He knew the signs. She was close—so very close to the edge. Easing back to the bed, he clenched his teeth when his balls tightened and he prayed he could hold on. “God, Cassie girl!” he whispered.

  Trevor brushed her clit with his thumb, triggering a flood of moisture from her. A shiver of anticipation shook her when his thumb caressed her a second time, and then again and again, playing her like a tightly strung guitar. Quicker and quicker, in a circular motion, he rubbed her throbbing clit and she rocked hard against him, her thighs tightening as the first wave of an orgasm swept over her.

  Cassandra’s nails dug deep into Trevor’s thighs with the first release. Her entire body shuddered and stiffened. “Trevor!” she cried out as wave after wave continued to tumble over her. Trevor was relentless, each flick of his thumb sending little jolts of electricity through her. With a sob she took hold of his thumb and squeezed it as she rode him to the edge, pulsing around him, gripping him deep within.

  Trevor’s body began to tremble and he groaned in a ragged breath, “A ghrá!”

  “Trevor, now!” she cried out again, feeling a second wave reaching for her. “With me!” she rasped, reaching back to roll his balls between her fingers.

  Pleasure burned through him like hot lava, firing his senses, licking the edges of his perception, and making him numb to anything but the woman above him. He buried the worries about what was to happen in the near future and let go, giving himself to her. “I’m coming!” he yelled, exploding in a powerful release, pumping in spurts deep inside her as the strong contractions of her own release rippled and clamped around his shaft. Their moans mingled in the silence of the room, creating a sensual song to their lovemaking.

  With one last sweet, slow exhale of breath, Cassandra collapsed on top of him. Chests heaving, they lay spent, until, slowly, the frantic breathing eased and their galloping hearts synched into a normal rhythm.

  All of Trevor’s thoughts centered on Cassandra’s limp body and the loving care she had taken, how she made him feel. Brushing her hair from her face, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He knew words weren’t needed, but he still wanted her to hear them. His fingers tenderly traced the line of her cheekbone and curved under her chin, lifting her face to him. Snaring her gaze, he whispered, “I love you, Cassandra Cristina Brennan. I have since the day you crowded my desk.” She smiled sweetly and covered his hand with hers, pressing his palm to her cheek.

  Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. “Oh, my god. Am I hurting you? Damn, you must feel like a beached whale landed on you!” She tried to move, but Trevor quickly wrapped his arm around her, pinning her against him, and burst out laughing.

  “Shite, Cassie! Don’t make me laugh! That hurts like hell!”

  “I told you!” Her voice held a degree of concern and she tri
ed to move away again.

  He tightened his hold. “Nope. I meant laughing hurt. Not having you ravish me. That was all good love…better than good.”

  “Note to self: making love after being shot in the shoulder doesn’t hurt, but laughing does.” She opened in a wide smile and relaxed against him. “It’s a good thing that only laughing hurts, because you won’t be doing much of that where you’re going.”

  “And where might that be?” Trevor raised an eyebrow.

  Cassandra grinned. “While you were out sightseeing we received the confirmation from boot camp.”

  “Ah, no. No way in hell. I just earned a get-out-of-jail-free card on that one after what I’ve been through. Think dogs, walls, and Sergei. Oh, my.”

  A soft chuckle rumbled against his chest. “I’ll have to think about it,” she muttered sleepily.

  “You better,” he sighed contently.

  *****

  Nathan’s eyes popped open at the same time his hand snapped for his gun. He rolled to his back, gripping it in both hands. Jerked awake by a noise he couldn’t quite pinpoint, his senses were on high alert as he sat up. Rising from the couch, he moved carefully around the house, trying to identify what had disturbed his sleep, checking for anything out of the ordinary.

  On his way down the hall, he paused at Cassandra’s room. It only took him a matter of seconds to register what had woken him—her soft voice and the Irishman’s heavier one moaning and murmuring to each other.

  Nathan’s heart stuttered to a stop and the blood rushed from his head. Fuck! Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, he backed away from the door, seeking escape. His eyes locked on the kitchen back door and, without hesitation, he walked swiftly down the hall. Reaching the door, Nathan quickly disabled the security system and stormed out into the night.

  Pacing within the shadows of the tree line, Nathan rubbed his face with his hands and ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. The reality of what he witnessed between the two earlier should have prepared him for what he had just overheard. But it hadn’t. No fucking way I’m going back in there. “Freakin’ rabbits,” he grumbled.

  Chapter Fifty

  Valkyrie

  IT HADN’T TAKEN NIKOL LONG to find out who had helped Dmitriy and Ivanov. The market had been packed with vendors who had witnessed their escape and who knew the couple with whom they had left. A little persuasion—Nikol-style—worked wonders, especially when they had been exposed to what she could do in the form of the body sprawled on the ground. Armed with the location of the farm where the couple lived, she had planned to jump into Sergei’s car and head out in pursuit, but the police, already on high alert due to the earlier conflict, had responded faster than expected and had pounced on her.

  She had been dragged to the closest police station and, once they had verified her credentials, Nikol had been turned over to her own department. Back in the hands of Colonel General Olegovich and the usual inquisition squad, she had sat unconcerned through the same bullshit bureaucracy she experienced each time she entered the building. Long hours spent defending her position and covering her ass. Long hours spent justifying her actions against a long list of transgressions, including the killing of Sergei in the market—a clear-cut case of self-defense.

  Nikol’s reports had been flawless but for one thing: she had omitted the real reason they had been at the market—the very personal reason why she had accepted the mission in the first place. Nikol had also omitted that once she left the station, she would be chasing after information that could help her and her family find closure. She would eliminate the cause of so much pain, a pain that had haunted them, had burned in her chest and mind for many years. As soon as they had given her the green light to leave, she had jumped in her car and headed toward her goal.

  By the time Nikol cut the lights and rolled to a stop outside the old dilapidated farmhouse, it was close to three in the morning. She drew her HK, keeping it at her side as she approached and knocked on the door.

  The front light sputtered, flooding the porch in a muted glow. A surprised and sleepy old man opened the door. “Can I help you?”

  “I am looking for two men and a woman. I think you can help me.”

  The man inched the door closed and looked out over her shoulder. “There is only me and my wife.”

  Nikol glanced at the outside of the house. It had seen better days. Ragged floral curtains covered the front windows and time had inflicted clear damage on the property. She gazed into the eyes of the old man and stuck out her hand. “My name is Nikol Petrovna.” She caught the flash of recognition that briefly lit his eyes. “I see you have heard of me.”

  The old man crossed his arms defensively. “I do not know of these people you ask for.”

  Nikol nodded in the direction of the old Lada. “That is your car, no? Your name is Yakov. Your wife, Zoya. Yes?” The man hesitated, but nodded affirmatively. “You were seen leaving the market with the people I am looking for stowed in your car.”

  Fear crept into his eyes. “They are not here—and even if they were, why would I tell you?” He glanced at the gun in her hand, swallowed deeply, and took a step away from her. “You will kill them, kill us all.”

  Nikol holstered her gun and dropped her hands to her side, palms open. “Yakov, if I had wanted them dead, they would have died earlier today at the market. I just want to talk to them. They have information that could help me.”

  Yakov stared hard at her as if trying to get in her head. Finally, he gave a curt nod and pulled the door open. “Come in.”

  Nikol breathed a sigh of relief and followed him. The inside of the house showed almost as much wear as the outside. The faded, chipped paint of the walls, the un-matched chairs arranged by the fire, the hand-stitched pillows sitting on their seats were a statement of the couple’s impoverished state. The room was homey and clean. No dust collected on the little statues of farm animals or traditional Russian dolls peppering the surfaces.

  An older woman approached them, wringing her hands nervously. Yakov draped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “Zoya. This is Nikol. Nikol Petrovna.” Zoya’s eyes widened and she glanced sharply at her husband. “She is here to talk with our guests.”

  “But Yakov—” Panic screamed in her words.

  Dmitry came into view with the woman she recognized from the mansion, her hand tightly clasped in his. “It is fine, Zoya.”

  “Dmitriy.” Nikol nodded in greeting.

  “Petrovna.” He nodded back, a questioning look in his eyes. “Sergei?” The woman with Dmitriy gasped and edged closer to him.

  “Dead.” Nikol’s voice was firm, without inflection. She looked over his shoulder. “Where is Ivanov?”

  “He’s not here.” Dmitry stood with his legs apart, as if bracing for her to make a move.

  “I know you were your uncle’s IT guy. The servers were wiped clean during the chaos. Do you have a copy of the data?”

  Dmitriy frowned. A confused expression shadowed his face as if he was struggling to understand the reason for her questions. His voice wavered. “There are no copies. Ivanov destroyed everything.”

  “Ivanov? Did he make a copy of anything?”

  “I do not know. When I got back to the room he had already initiated the process.”

  “Got back? You left him alone?” Ivanov had proved he was more than just a developer, not to be underestimated. Nikol couldn’t help but wonder if he was in league with Kostas. If he was, why hadn’t Kostas come to his aid when everything went to hell?

  A red flush spread across Dmitriy’s cheeks. “Yes.” Understanding suddenly crept into his eyes.

  “I need to find him. Do you know where he is?”

  “Why should I tell you?” Defiance colored his voice.

  “The data is a critical piece of evidence. It will help seal the fate of some very bad people.”

  His eyes widened. “Evidence? So you are….”

  “Gang Squad. St. Petersburg
Central Internal Affairs Directorate.” She watched his eyes grow even wider. “So as you can see, I do not wish to hurt him. I proved that, have I not? I helped you both before. Saved you from Sergei.”

  Indecision warred in Dmitriy’s eyes as he turned to look down into the woman’s at his side. She shook her head and he flashed her a brief smile. Turning back to Nikol, he sighed. “He mentioned Vyborg. That is all we know.”

  Yakov spoke up. “I dropped him off in town. He planned to catch the train.”

  An overwhelming rush of excitement filled Nikol. “Thank you.” She turned on her heel and headed out the door. Success was a sweet taste on her tongue. Soon she would have everything for which she had worked so hard.

  *****

  Nathan watched dawn’s fingers creep across the black-blue starry night and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t been able to find a comfortable position or catch any shuteye outside. Sitting under the thick cover of the trees on the north side of the property, the echo of Cassandra’s voice mingled with that of the Blarney Stone resounded repeatedly in his head. What bothered him most was that the damn Irishman was growing on him. Observing Bauer’s tender eyes and the respect he held for Cassandra shamed Nathan. How he had ever mistaken her calm demeanor for helplessness was beyond him.

  Who am I kidding? Nathan had created an image of her in his mind, one molded to his expectations—a woman to be protected, and dependent on him for that protection. Nathan shook his head. Definitely not the Cassandra he had found in the house that night.

  Giving up on finding a soft spot on the hard ground, he stood and stretched the cramped muscles of his shoulders. He leaned back against the rough bark of a tree trunk, debating on whether to bite the bullet and head back inside in search of a more comfortable accommodation, hopefully a padded one. The sound of crunching tires along the road reached his ears and Nathan tilted his head. What the hell?