Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3) (30 page)

“Yes,” she reached up and pulled him to her lips, “yes…I love you.”

“And I you.” He kissed her, then teethed her lower lip. When she finally released his head after a lengthy, loving kiss, he settled her against him. “Comfortable?”

Elana closed her eyes and exhaled. “Yes.”

“Good.” He kissed her throat and nipped the juncture of her shoulder and neck. “Do you have any more sexual wishes,
zaychik moy
?

“Uh huh,” she nodded and clutched at the covers.

“Tell me.” Vanko grunted, a sound of satisfaction and male arousal. He rubbed his cock, now semi-erect over her ass. “Don’t be shy. You can tell me anything.”

“Um, me on top.”

“I’d like that.” Vanko smoothed his hand over her stomach and rested it above her sensitive clit, still swollen and aching from her orgasm. “I could touch your breasts and clit so easily. What else,
goluba moy
?”

Elana swallowed hard as he rubbed a finger around her clit, never quite touching it. She moaned, “Oh God.” She took a breath and let it out. “Y-y-you taking me against a wall…” She gasped as he swept a finger into her wet opening.

“Continue,” he urged her gently as he thrust the finger in and out, stretching the muscles around her sex. “How will I take you against this wall?”

“Um, you’ll pick me up…and my legs will be around your waist…oh, God, Vanko do that again.” She held the heel of his hand on her clit as he pressed and circled on the tender bundle of nerves. “And, um, you’ll use the wall to help hold me up and you’ll take me until we both climax.”

“Like that idea also,
dushka
.” Vanko kissed her jaw line then teethed it. “What else?”

Elana bit her lip, groaning in her throat at the renewed climb to orgasm, and truth be told, at the mental images of the one fantasy that always had her climaxing with one touch of her vibrator. She couldn’t tell him the other fantasy she’d read in a book.

Go for it. It’s not that kinky.

“Um, tying me to the bed and…”

Vanko turned her face to his, his eyes were dark with desire, and whispered hotly against her mouth, “I would take you up again and again and make you beg…” He kissed her, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth in tandem with the finger he moved in and out of her pussy until she moaned low in her throat. He broke away and continued, “…and when I let you come, I would then make you come again and again until I was ready to thrust my cock inside and take my pleasure.”

“Yes.” She arched into the hand on her mound, silently demanding more.

“I think my little rabbit is very sexy and adventurous. I love it.” He licked and teethed the throbbing pulse in her neck. “Do you want to come again,
dushka
?”

“Oh God, yes.”

Vanko rubbed his cock over her bottom. “Feel how hard you make me.” He nibbled her neck and then lightly bit her shoulder.

“Vanko!” Elana moaned his name. “Please…”

“Come for me,
angel moy
.” He added another finger to the one in her sex and massaged her clit with the thumb of the same hand. And then the sensation swelled, peaked, and exploded.

“Vanko!” This time Elana screamed his name as she attempted to arch into his hand as another orgasm swept over her body. But Vanko held her tightly, not letting her move—protecting her even as he pleasured her.

Then he ground out her name, “Elana,” and climaxed. This time, his cum coated her lower back and the upper curves of her bottom.

The outer world had faded away once more. For several seconds, all Elana could feel was the ebbing of her pleasure and Vanko’s strong body shuddering against her.

“God, Elana!” He kissed her hair and massaged her lower abdomen in soothing circular strokes. “Are you okay?”

“Um, just fine. Great. Wonderful.” More than wonderful. No man had ever given her an orgasm before, and now she’d had two in less than an hour. She snuggled against him and laughed when he swore under his breath. “What’s wrong,
masik
?”

“Now, we definitely need to get up. The bed is very, very wet from our lovemaking. I don’t want you getting chilled. That is unacceptable.” He tossed off the covers, got out of bed, and picked her up without jarring her wound at all. “Shower time.”

“Yes.” She placed her arms around his neck and pressed nipping kisses along his jaw. “Thank you for making love to me.” And it had been making love. “And I look forward to exploring all the sexual desires you pulled out of me…hopefully sooner rather than later.”

“We’ll see.” Vanko kissed the tip of her nose. “You get better, then we’ll work our way through all the sex acts mentioned…and create some more.”

“Do you have any sexual fantasies,
masik
?”

Vanko chuckled, a wicked sound that caused her sex to spasm. “Ah,
goluba moy
, I have so many wicked things I wish to do to you,” he kissed the edge of her mouth, then whispered, “but it is much more fun to show than to tell.”

Elana smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. She planned on getting better damn fast.

Monday, December 5th, 12:30 P.M., Wheeling, West Virginia

“Sam?” Stevens stood at the door.

Crocker could see Jones in the great room, watching the news on a huge flat screen television. Their gear was packed, and they were ready to bug out.

“What is it, Bert?” Crocker muted the bedroom’s television turned to The Weather Channel.

The local conditions had worsened immediately after he’d given the initial order to pack up. He’d delayed their departure until the worst of the storm front had moved through. There were still near-blizzard conditions, but at least the wind had died down from fifty miles per hour to twenty. Their extended cab truck could handle the road conditions, and he and his men were trained to operate in worse conditions. Hell, he’d survived worse.

“Got something you need to see.” Stevens entered the room and sat on the arm of Crocker’s chair and showed him the tablet screen. It displayed a Twitter feed. Stevens’ Twitter feed.

He scowled. “Why in the fuck are you showing me your damn Tweets? I thought you were finding out where the Chernovs were holing up in Chicago.”

“I am. I have search bots trolling specific sites including Interpol’s for intel on the Chernovs.” Stevens pushed the tablet into Crocker’s hands. “While my automated programs are doing their thing, I started a hashtag for
DCmallshootingfemalevictim
. Then tweeted I spotted her at the D.C. Georgetown Mall with a male friend, heading into Starbucks.” He grinned. “I’ve been getting replies like crazy, but the one I highlighted is the one you need to see.” He pointed.

Crocker read it out loud,
Saw victim. Gap Outlet, Washington, PA, with Russian. Sun PM. Drove bitchin black Hummer.
He looked at a grinning Stevens. “I won’t have to kick your ass after all. With this shit weather,” which extended all the way north to the Great Lakes and west to western Illinois, “there’s a good chance they’re still in the Washington, PA area.”

“Yeah. It’s only about thirty or so miles away.” Stevens took his tablet back. “Bet with her injury and the weather they were forced to stop, rest, and resupply. Looks like they took I-70 out of D.C. and never strayed.”

“That adds to the intel they’re heading toward Chicago.” Crocker laid his head against the back of the over-stuffed chair and closed his eyes to think. After several seconds, he opened them and stared at his man. “Petriv won’t stay on the interstates all the way to Chicago. Like us, he’ll want to stay away from all the traffic cameras on the federal highways. So, how are we gonna find them before they hit the road?”

“I can hack into traffic cameras and hotel security feeds from the Washington, PA area.”

Crocker grunted. “Do it.” Then a thought struck him. “How likely is it that SSI could find that Tweet and smell a rat?”

Stevens’ lips formed a pout like a sulky two-year old even as he typed like a maniac into his tablet. “Likely?” He blew out a gusty breath. “Too likely. They probably have search bots looking for anything on the Mall shooting, if for no other reason than to get footage taken by all the lookee-loos.” Stevens paused in his typing and frowned. “Fuck me. I didn’t think…I just wanted…well, just fuck.”

Crocker wasn’t too angry, but they couldn’t waste any more time. Petriv would bug out if he even thought the Tweet would lead a single enemy to his position. This was Crocker’s best chance to get the librarian before Petriv got backup or decided to go to Bumfuck, Iowa instead of Chicago. “Get us some places to scope out where they were last seen. We’ll head out in ten minutes.” Under the current weather and road conditions, the normally half hour drive could take three times as long. But the weather would also make Petriv think twice about hitting the road—or at least Crocker hoped so.

Jones had come into the room while he and Stevens had talked. Crocker looked at Jones, a former medic on a Ranger unit. “We have any tranquilizers?”

“We have several kinds,” Jones replied.

“The woman we’re retrieving has been shot and is probably on pain meds,” warned Crocker. “I don’t want her dead, just cooperative.”

“I’ll start out light and work my way up.” Jones grinned, his white teeth a sharp contrast to his dark chocolate skin. “She’s not worth anything dead, yeah?”

“Right. Let’s get this bitch and hit the road south.” Crocker stood and stretched. “And I decided we’ll leave Petriv alive so he can come and retrieve the bitch. I don’t want her on my hands any longer than I need her to get to Demidas.”

Jones nodded. “Got it, Sam. Petriv will have a really bad headache, but he’ll live to gripe about it.”

“Good man.” Crocker didn’t want to tangle with SSI any more than he had to.

“Where
are
we going once we get the woman?” Stevens asked.

“Key Largo. Joe got us a nice yacht for the trip to Demidas’s location.” Joe’s hacker triangulated the Russian’s transmissions to an area near the Bahamas so Joe and his team made tracks to the Florida Keys, the closest point where they could rendezvous without attracting notice. Lots of pleasure and sporting boats went in and out of the Keys without attracting more than a passing glance from the Coast Guard. This would be the best way for Crocker to get out of the U.S. also. “Once Bert has us a loca—”

“Got ’em.” Stevens held up his tablet and grinned like the techno-goof he was. “They’re at a Comfort Suites in Washington, PA.” He showed Crocker a live security feed of a black Hummer with rental plates, parked outside a back entrance to the hotel.

“Let’s move out.” Jones turned and walked toward the front of the house. Crocker held Stevens back. “Good work. Keep an eye on that Hummer.”

“You got it, Sam.” Stevens chuckled. “Petriv won’t shake us now.”

“You just earned a premium of ten percent on top of your base cut.” Crocker slapped the man on the back. “Let’s go grab our big payday.”

Monday, December 5th, 2:00 P.M. (EST), Comfort Inn and Suites, Washington, Pennsylvania

Vanko checked on Elana for the twentieth time since they’d eaten lunch. He was concerned because she had a low-grade fever and hadn’t eaten much today. She’d slept most of the morning and was sleeping soundly once again.

He could kick himself for making love to her, because he was sure his actions had overtaxed her system. When he’d said as much at lunch, she’d laughed. “
Sladkie
, I have a cold. I had the beginnings of it before I was shot. My wound is fine. I’m not in pain. In fact, I can move more easily than yesterday…you worry too much.”

Then, blushing beautifully, she’d leaned over and stroked a finger over the bulge in his jeans. “Plus…I liked what we did.”

“So did I,” he’d assured her, which then led to another kissing session that had his cock aching like a sore tooth.

Vanko grinned with satisfaction at the memory of the kiss. Elana had initiated it, which told him she was more than comfortable with him physically and emotionally. She’d come a long way since Saturday.

He left the bedroom and kept the door partially open. He wanted to hear her if she called out. Then he turned up the volume on the Weather Channel so he could check the forecast. The winds had lessened in the last half hour, but the snow still came down heavily and the winds were gusty. Not good traveling weather at the moment.

He sat on the sofa and propped his feet up on the ottoman slash coffee table and took a sip of his coffee. He checked the e-mail box on Elana’s computer to see if SSI had sent him any further updates. Just one.

Vanko read it and immediately made a video call over the laptop on the secure satellite connection that had been set up for him.

Tweeter answered. The man looked exhausted and wind-burned. The look in his friend’s eyes told him something bad had happened since he’d spoken with them early this morning.

“What happened? Is it Keely? The baby?” Vanko blurted out.

“No, not them.” Tweeter exhaled roughly. “Callie’s bridesmaid, Tessa. Tried to leave Sanctuary during the storm. Ran off the road. Went over the side of the crag at the bridge.”

Vanko grimaced. He knew the exact spot. It was treacherous.

“Earl and I rappelled down after her. She was stuck on a ledge. It was pretty dicey. We got her up safely. Earl’s taking care of her now.”

“Earl? Risto’s friend, Earl?” Vanko said.

Tweeter nodded and a slight grin curved his mouth. “Yeah, the man’s a goner. Bet they’re married before the year ends. Ya think love at first sight and marriage is contagious?”

Vanko had to laugh. “Yeah, since I’ve caught the bug also. You should try it, my friend.”

Tweeter snorted with disgust. “Keely said you had it bad for Elana. I didn’t believe her.”

“Well, believe.” Vanko turned serious and back to the purpose of the video call. “What have you found out about the Tweets that are going around?”

Tweeter glowered. “I traced them to one Twitter account. A new one created today. Someone’s fishing for information as to your whereabouts, that someone will sort the wheat from the chaff and—”