Stripped (44 page)

A possessive growl rumbled in the back of his throat. She didn’t know how her shorts ended up on the rock beside them, but in the
next heartbeat they were, and Brandon was lifting her body, aligning her wet opening with the wide head of his cock. He lowered her slowly, easing inside her narrow channel, stretching her bit-by-bit and sending shocks of pleasure surging through her veins.

“Brandon.
God
.” She clutched his shoulders, feeling very much like she’d just plummeted off the canyon rim.

He moved inside her, pulling back, slowly filling her up again. “Come for me, beautiful,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat. “Let me feel you hold on to me.”

It wouldn’t take much at this rate. A few more slow strokes like that and she’d—
Oh!
Brandon pressed his thumb against her clitoris, his lazy stroke as powerful as the deep thrust that hit the mouth of her womb. She tried to move against the fantastic pressure, but his other hand held her hips in place, subjecting her to the blissful agony of his masterful possession. A whimper bubbled in the back of her throat.

“Oh, please…” Her vagina clenched, and against her inner walls she felt his cock twitch.

“Like that,” he rasped. “Just like that.” Again, he tapped her clitoris, again he pushed high into her slick sheath, the pressure on her hips pushing her down as he lifted up.

Another wave of pleasure hit her hard, and Natalya clung to his shoulders, scarcely able to breathe. She managed a few jerky gasps, found the ability to somehow swallow. But when she lifted her lowered lashes, his smoldering gaze seared past the last of her crumbled defenses. In those tawny depths emotion reigned. Feeling so foreign to her she couldn’t be certain she translated correctly. But her heart recognized the language—the same words she’d nearly spilled gleamed in his turbulent stare.

Just like that she soared, his name tearing from her lips as ecstasy crashed through her body. Brandon groaned long and low, and clutched her hips with both hands as his body spasmed into hers. Deep inside, she felt the pulse of his cock, the heat of his ejaculation spilling against her needy flesh.

He held her still, his breath hard and heavy against her shoulder. Natalya trembled in his arms, the feeling running through her so powerfully frightening. She didn’t know what to say, what to do… and she damn sure didn’t want to move.

Brandon solved the dilemma with a feather-soft kiss to her cheek and whispered, “I’d like to see the Northern Lights with you.”

“With me?” To her shame disbelief clung to her dry throat.

“Yes. With you.” He captured her lower lip with his teeth and teased her mouth open once more. But his kiss ended too soon. “I meant it when I said you did powerful things to me.”

Afraid he’d say more than her heart could withstand, Natalya pressed her fingertips to his parted lips. “There’s things you don’t know, Brandon.”

He turned his head, easing himself out of her. “I’m not stupid. I know that. Trust me, this scares the shit out of me. But I’m not going to be ruled by fear.” He took his hand in hers and added more quietly, “Not anymore.”

That damnable emotion welled once more, and Natalya felt the salty prick of tears. She dipped her chin to hide her welling eyes.

Unwilling to let her hide, Brandon framed her face between his hands and turned her gaze to his. “I’m falling for you, Natalya. If you don’t want me, you need to tell me now, so I can walk away.”

Her throat clogged, forbidding her reply. She swallowed once. Twice. Felt the hot splash trickle down her cheeks. Ashamed, she tried to twist her head. He denied her the ability by dusting his mouth over her damp skin and kissing away the tears.

“I know you’ve got a secret you don’t want me to know yet. I’m okay with that. For now.”

“Brandon—” The twisting of her heart was too much. Did she want him? God, yes, she wanted him. If she could find a way to save Kate, protect Sergei, and drag Brandon to a corner of the world where Dmitri could never find him, and know that Brandon would be
happy
, she’d do it in a heartbeat. But she couldn’t. She was leaving tomorrow night.

Feeling her heart
breaking already, she twisted away from his soul-searching gaze and pulled on her shorts. A passing car jerked his attention to the road. She looked after him, observing the snail-like pace of the approaching vehicle. It slowed more as it cruised past the Accord they’d parked on the highway’s shoulder.

B

He sat taller, and his heart rate accelerated. Taking his eyes off the vehicle long enough to glance at Natalya’s hip, he ensured she’d brought her purse. She already had it in her lap.

The buzz of warning shifted into a high-pitched alarm as the sedan pulled a U-turn, then backed into the opposite shoulder. Bright light splashed across the rock he and Natalya shared. The sedan sat no more than fifty yards away.

“Give me your gun.” He opened his palm, but made no other move.

“What?”

More firmly, he repeated, “Give me your gun.”

“Like hell. I’m not giving you my gun.”

“Damn it, Natalya,” he said as he glanced at her stubborn expression.

A car door opened. Slammed shut. The echo drummed through the barren landscape.

He let out a controlled breath, his jaw tight. His order came out in a venomous hiss. “I’m a fucking cop, give me the goddamn gun!”

Across the highway, a shadow passed before the headlights. It stopped on the passenger side, lifted bulky arms.

Brandon reacted on reflex. He grabbed the back of Natalya’s hair and dragged her to the ground. As her cheek made contact with the
rock’s rough surface, two crisp, rapid-fire shots cracked through the air. They pinged off a rock to his left.

“Son of a bitch!” Brandon outstretched a hand and dragged Natalya’s purse beneath his nose. “Remind me next time I blow my cover to make sure I have my badge so I can prove it. Where the hell’s your gun?”

He scowled at Natalya in the same instant she confidently rose to one knee. Right arm stretched toward the vehicle, he caught the brief glow of the Sig’s night sights. Shit! She made a perfect, motionless target. He grabbed for her ankle, intending to knock her back to the ground, but as his fingertips grazed her skin, she returned fire with two identical trigger pulls.

Brandon jerked his hand away and snapped his head up, a string of curses on the tip of his tongue.

Across the highway, a tire popped. A tinny
ping
announced the second bullet sped home a breath away from the first. The shadow dove over the sedan’s hood. Brief light glimmered as the interior dome flashed on. Then, on three good tires, the sedan pealed off the shoulder, flat tire thumping. It vanished into the desert landscape, leaving them, and Vegas behind.

Brandon glanced at Natalya, suspicion creeping in to replace his stunned surprise. “Lucky shot?”

Natalya’s stone-cold expression told him luck didn’t have anything to do with her dead-on shot.

Her purse still clutched in one tight fist, he snapped his opposite hand around her wrist and struck off for the car. “I’ve just stopped being okay with not knowing your secrets.”

S

Brandon ground the word between his teeth, resisting the urge to snort at the ludicrous claim. No self-defense student learned how to hit a target at fifty yards like Natalya had. It just didn’t happen. Not unless she’d practiced every day, for hours at a time. Highly unlikely—even
he
didn’t have that many hours at the range under his belt, and he was a consistently accurate marksman.

Yet she clung to the explanation no matter how many times he asked during their drive back to his house.

She hadn’t reacted to his confession either, which made him more uneasy. Either she knew, she suspected, or she hadn’t heard him, which he didn’t buy in the least.

He groaned inwardly. What if she was some Internal Affairs piss ant sent to hawk over him? That would certainly explain her blank file. IA would expect him to run a background check, and they’d cover anything that might give him a glimmer of the truth.

What had he done to piss off Joe?

Searching the banks of his memory for something worthy of an IA investigation, he pulled into his driveway and slammed the Accord into park. He pinned her with a squint. “Are you IA?”

Natalya laughed. “Hardly.”

Truth.
Okay. So if she wasn’t from Internal Affairs then what?

Mayer’s voice echoed in his head.
I think you better distance yourself.

As the engine
tick-ticked
against the cooling night air, Brandon
stared at his unopened garage door. What if he’d been wrong and she was somehow associated with these murders?
No.
He banished the thought as quickly as it came. Just because she could aim well didn’t make her a murderer. Or even an accomplice.

He sighed. “Natalya, damn it, talk to me. Who’s Nikolai? I know you’re afraid of him. How does he relate to that gun?”

Natalya wrapped her hands around the bulky pistol hidden in her purse. “He’s nobody. Would you just drop the subject?”

“No, damn it, I won’t!” His temper spiked. “I just blew my cover. Twelve years of narcotics work might very well be shot down the drain. All I want is a straight answer from you. Who the hell is Nikolai, and why did his name turn you ghost white?”

She looked out the window, her expression far away. So softly he had to strain to hear her, she answered, “Your cover’s safe. I knew you were a cop.”

“You what?” he asked slowly.

Her chest heaved as she took a deep breath. “Can we go inside?”

“Fine. Whatever.” He shoved open the door and climbed outside. Too frustrated to wait for her, he started up the porch steps and unlocked the door in the dark. Her heels clacked on the pavestones behind him.

Inside, Brandon flipped on the light and stalked into the kitchen. He spun on her when she entered and set her purse on the island. “How the hell did you know?”

She made a production of withdrawing her gun and taking it apart. He waited, his pulse notching up another degree with every drawn-out second, while she pulled a paper towel off the dispenser and wiped down the slide. “You’re right, Nikolai is from my past, and I’m very afraid of what he’s capable of doing.”

The air left his lungs in a rush. She’d rather tell him about her past than explain how she knew he was a detective? Something didn’t feel right. The sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t going to like what she would say next crawled down his spine.

Her hands moved automatically over the metal parts, meticulously cleaning what two rounds couldn’t have possibly dirtied. “Protecting myself is a necessity. I made it a habit to train with this gun. When you aren’t sure if each morning you wake up might be your last, it becomes habit.”

At the brittle edge to her voice, his heart shifted sideways. A portion of his anger ebbed into sympathy. She was hiding from Nikolai, and it was all Brandon could do to not go to her and offer comfort. But he sensed, if he interrupted her now, he’d never hear the full explanation.

He stayed at the opposite end of the bar, his hands curled into the countertop, gritting his teeth against the desire to rip this Nikolai into pieces.

“I… spent a lot of time with him in Russia. He’s affiliated with the St. Petersburg casino, silent partner if you will. He was in the club last night. Jill danced for him. Which means he saw me dancing as well.”

Ah.
The lightbulb clicked on. All the threats led her to the logical conclusion, this Nikolai was after her. She’d misconstrued the truth—then again, he hadn’t
given
her the truth to help her over the fear. Something he needed to amend right now.

“Natalya.” He rounded the corner of the island and captured one busy hand. “First things first—give me his last name, and whatever he’s done to you, we’ll make sure he pays the price.” Bringing her hand to his mouth, he dusted a kiss over her knuckles and held her gaze. “I won’t let him hurt you. It wasn’t him who shot at us either. I’ll stake my life on it.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Brandon?”

The female voice in his front hall made him jump. He instinctively moved in front of the island to hide Natalya’s gun.

Sue poked her head around the entryway. “I’m sorry to bother you. I saw you come in earlier than normal—I didn’t realize you had company.” A fierce blush colored her face crimson as she ducked her head.

“It’s okay. Sue, this is Natalya. Natalya, my neighbor, Sue.” Still possessively holding on to Natalya’s hand, he gestured at the both of them in turn.

“Nice to meet you, Natalya.” Sue’s blush deepened. “I’m really sorry. I can wait till morning.”

“No, what did you need?”

Stepping fully into the room, Sue wrung her hands together. “It’s Opie. I haven’t seen him since I let him out three hours ago. The girls are upset. He got off his chain, and you know he usually wanders back home once he trees the cat down the street.”

A dog. Not just any dog, but the bane of his dog-loving existence was ruining the most revealing conversation he’d ever had with Natalya. Tomorrow he was taking the whole damn day off and building that fence.

“Did you check the cat’s yard?”

“Yeah. I can’t find him. He won’t answer. I’m afraid he wandered over to the main road and got hit.” She wrung her hands harder, and her voice caught. “I don’t want to find him that way. I don’t think I could handle it.”

The question reflected in her hopeful expression.
Would you look, please?

Brandon slowly let out a long breath. He couldn’t tell Sue no, even if Opie’s timing sucked. They were too good of friends for him to force her into stumbling onto her dog, splattered across the road. She’d fall apart. And if she left her house, she’d have to take her girls with her—they were too young to stay in unattended. Under no circumstances, would he risk exposing one of those precious little girls to seeing their beloved pet in a bloody mess.