Midnight Pursuits

  “This isn’t the time to . . .” He groaned when her delicate fingers curled around his impossibly stiff shaft. “To . . .” Now he moaned, because her tongue was circling the tip of his cock. “To . . .”

  “To what?” She peered up at him, the picture of innocence.

  “To do this,” he choked out.

  “Oh, hush. Let me have some fun. I promise I’ll be quick.”

  She’d be quick? Lord, he was seconds away from blowing, just from the feel of her breath tickling his aching cock.

  He couldn’t stop her, not for the life of him. The hot suction of her mouth felt so criminally good he nearly keeled over.

  He braced his hand on the dresser, keeping himself steady, while his other hand drifted down to tangle in Juliet’s hair. He stroked those silky strands, but he didn’t have to guide her head—she knew exactly what to do. What was guaranteed to drive him to madness.

  Each teasing lick brought him closer to the edge. Each pump of her fist added to the pressure building in his groin.

  Juliet’s evident enjoyment only fueled his hunger. She made little sounds of contentment as she sucked him, her head bobbing up and down his shaft, her mouth gobbling him up until white dots flashed before his eyes. When her hand slid down to squeeze his tight sac, he groaned quietly and thrust deeper into her mouth, and suddenly it became a rush to the finish line. He’d probably regret it later, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving his hips and fucking her mouth in a fast tempo that had them both moaning.

  “I’m close,” he ground out. “Really damn close.”

  That talented mouth left him, just for a second, just so she could gaze up at him with hungry eyes and say, “Good. Give it to me.”

  The wicked request was all it took to detonate the knot of pressure. Pleasure seized his balls and shot out in every direction, coursing through his body in long, tingling waves as he came inside Juliet’s hot, wet mouth.

  A few moments later, she released him with a soft pop and looked up with a grin. He could have climaxed again just from the sight of her on her knees in front of him, her glossy lips curved in that naughty grin.

  “Jesus,” he mumbled, still recovering from the body-numbing release.

  “Second base is fun, huh?” She looked tremendously pleased with herself as she gracefully rose to her feet.

  “C’mere,” he ordered, then yanked her against him.

  He kissed her roughly, groaning when he tasted himself on her lips. He hadn’t intended to let it go this far, but now that they’d crossed the line, the slow approach had flown out the window right along with his chivalry. He needed to be inside her. Right fricking now.

  He was snaking his hands beneath her sweater when a cell phone vibrated.

  It was his, buzzing in his back pocket and filling him with annoyance.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he growled at Juliet, who’d just wrapped her arms around his neck.

  They stayed there with their bodies locked together as he fished out his phone and brought it to his ear.

  “Yeah?” he said briskly.

  “We’re ahead of schedule,” Liam reported. “Be there in ten. Any fun booby traps we should be aware of?”

  Swallowing his disappointment, Ethan gave his teammate a rundown of the security perimeter, then hung up with a frustrated look. “They’ll be here soon.”

  “Which leaves us no time to round third and slide home, huh?” She sighed heavily and dropped her hands from his shoulders.

  “Ten minutes is plenty of time—if I were a randy sixteen-year-old.” He licked his lips. “But I plan on spending a lot more than ten minutes ravishing your body. So we definitely need to put this on hold.”

  “I don’t know . . . I’m kind of fickle. I might change my mind the next time we’re alone.” She arched her eyebrows. “This could be your one and only chance.”

  “Nah, I’ll just shoot out a few tires and kill someone, and you’ll be all over me again.”

  Her melodic laugh only succeeded in reigniting his desire of her. “Oooh, I love it when you talk dirty to me, rookie.”

  • • •

  Not long after, Sullivan Port and Liam Macgregor arrived at the safe house, carting an unconscious woman. Their expressions conveyed sheer aggravation as Sullivan unceremoniously deposited the package on the shabby plaid couch and straightened up to glare at Ethan and Juliet, who were watching him in amusement.

  “This woman is a bloody nightmare,” he declared.

  “For real,” Liam spoke up. He ran a hand through his thick black hair, his piercing blue eyes glittering with annoyance. “Sully had to sedate her because she wouldn’t stop screaming. And she called us goons. Can you believe it?”

  Ethan couldn’t help but laugh. Especially since the newcomers currently fit the description of goon to a T. In their matching wool hats, heavy boots, and black bomber jackets, they looked like the bad guys from a Bond flick set in Russia. Not only that, but they both stood well over six feet and boasted muscular physiques that had probably scared the shit out of Alisa Baronova, who was out cold on the sofa.

  “Did anyone see you snatch her?” Ethan asked.

  “Of course,” Liam said sarcastically. “We did it on a busy street in front of hundreds of witnesses. A brigade of cops is waiting outside the door as we speak.”

  Juliet snorted, but Ethan didn’t glance over at her. If he did, he feared his eyes would broadcast his feelings to the entire room. His very potent, very sexual feelings. And he wasn’t in the mood to deal with Sully and Liam’s wisecracks at the moment, not when they had more important matters to discuss.

  “So what exactly is going on, mate?” Sullivan asked warily. “What does Orlov want with these people, and why do we care?”

  “We think he might be exacting revenge on the men who stood by and did nothing while his son got killed.”

  “You think?” Liam sounded skeptical.

  “Well, we haven’t figured out the motive part yet. All we know is that Orlov wants the targets dead, and he had Victor Grechko kill nine people before this.”

  “Then take Orlov out,” Sullivan said as he shrugged out of his bulky coat. The Australian wore a gray cable-knit sweater underneath, with a shoulder holster strapped on and a silver Glock butt poking out of his waistband.

  As he disarmed, Juliet flopped down on one of the rickety wooden chairs around the dining room table. “That’s what I’m saying,” she retorted, “but Bleeding Heart over here”—she hooked a thumb at Ethan—“wants to find out what Orlov’s up to first.”

  “We don’t know that he’s working alone,” Ethan reminded her. “If you kill him, that doesn’t mean the targets are safe. His associates could step up to the plate and eliminate Karin and the others. And we still don’t know if he’s in bed with the People’s Revolutionary Front. Maybe the hits are terrorist attacks, orchestrated by Orlov.”

  Liam drifted over to the refrigerator. “Please tell me you bought some beer, rookie.” He opened the door, peered in, and groaned. “Orange juice? Seriously, that’s all you deemed important enough to get?”

  Ethan rolled his eyes. “There’s water in the tap if OJ doesn’t do it for you.”

  Grumbling to himself, Liam unzipped his coat, tossed it on one of the dining room chairs, then headed to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. “So what’s the plan? You’re just going to watch these people indefinitely?”

  “Until we figure out what Orlov’s planning.”

  “Fine, let’s get figuring, then,” Sully retorted. “Because I can’t spend another bloody second with that infuriating woman.”

  Ethan glanced over at Alisa Baronova, who, even unconscious, did look like a handful. The woman was in her forties, dressed in a skintight purple dress with a neckline that was quite low for a woman her age. Her breasts were enormous and out of proportion with her
reedy-thin frame, a sign that they probably weren’t natural. Same went for her hair, which was a shade of platinum blond that definitely didn’t occur in nature. To round out her artificial exterior, she had razor-sharp red fingernails and orange-tinged skin that spoke of too many visits to the tanning salon.

  Liam followed Ethan’s gaze and snickered. “Her personality is as delightful as her appearance. Just you wait.”

  He stifled a sigh and turned to Juliet. “We need to start digging, find out who Orlov might be working with.”

  She responded with a resigned nod, for which he was grateful. He knew she was eager to kill the bastard, but Ethan couldn’t in good conscience allow that to happen until he was certain Anastacia and the others would be safe.

  “I guess we should start with the PRF,” she said. “They’ve taken responsibility for the hits, so either they’re lying or they really are working with Orlov.”

  “What do we know about the PRF?” Liam asked.

  Ethan wandered over and leaned against the narrow kitchen counter. “Well, they consider themselves revolutionaries, claim they’re fighting the oppression of the Belikov government. They’re tired of the corruption and the censorship, the restrictions on civil rights. They started out with nonviolent demonstrations, but when those didn’t achieve results they graduated to full-out violence. Bombings, kidnappings, executions. That’s when they were promoted from peaceful protesters to dangerous terrorists.”

  “Their goal is to push Belikov out of office,” Juliet added. “They want a total overhaul of the current system of government.”

  “Lofty ambitions,” Liam remarked.

  Ethan shrugged. “Nobody said they operated in the realm of reality, but they keep trying, nevertheless.”

  The other man slanted his head, pensive. “Who’s their Osama?”

  “Their leader is a man by the name of Alexei Mironov,” Juliet answered. “He’s young and charismatic, and picking up followers like crazy.”

  Sullivan piped up with his two cents. “Okay, so we find Mironov. If he’s calling the shots, he’s the one who can confirm whether or not his group is responsible for the executions.”

  “Find Mironov?” Liam echoed with a grin. “How do you suggest we do that, Aussie? Ring up the terrorist directory and request the address to his lair?”

  “I’ll call Noelle.” Juliet rose from her chair.

  “You think your boss is magically going to produce the dude’s number?” Liam cracked.

  “You’d be surprised what Noelle can do. We’ve taken out a lot of so-called terrorists. Noelle has contacts and informants in every corner of the world.”

  Ethan nodded. “Call her. It’s worth a shot.”

  “I’ll be right back. I left my phone in the other room.”

  Juliet stalked off, her heels snapping against the hardwood. Both Liam and Sullivan watched her go, their gazes glued to her firm bottom.

  “Sweet Lord,” Sullivan drawled, “she’s even sexier than I remember.”

  “Dibs,” Liam said without delay.

  Ethan turned to the other man with a frosty expression. “Forget about it. She’s off-limits.”

  There was a beat.

  Then Liam hooted. “Staking a claim, eh, rookie?”

  “Something like that,” he muttered.

  Sullivan broke out in a wide grin. “I don’t know, Boston. Maybe we need to throw our hats in the ring. Give the rookie a little competition.”

  “Definitely.”

  Ethan knew they were just kidding around, but the thought of one of them so much as laying a finger on Juliet made every muscle in his body stiffen. His hands involuntarily curled into fists, a deadly gleam entering his eyes.

  “Touch her and you’re dead,” he said coldly.

  That only made them grin harder.

  “Aw, our little boy has it bad.”

  Liam’s blue eyes twinkled. “Have you made a move yet? Or are you taking it nice and slow as usual?”

  “How long did it take you to ask out that chick from San Jose?” Sullivan chimed in. “Three months?”

  He tolerated the good-natured ribbing, but didn’t get a chance to voice a comeback because the woman on the couch was beginning to stir.

  Alisa Baronova moaned as she sat up. She blinked, rubbed her face, and then her brown eyes widened in panic. “W-what . . . w-where . . . what is the meaning of this?” the bleached blonde screamed in her native tongue.

  The high-pitched shriek made all three men wince.

  “It’s all right,” Ethan told her in a soothing tone. “You’re safe.”

  “Safe? Safe? I was abducted! You abducted me!”

  Completely ignoring the hysterical woman, Sullivan glanced at Ethan and murmured, “Speaking of abductions, the Karin girl’s disappearance is all over the news.”

  Deciding to deal with one crisis at a time, Ethan went over to the couch and addressed the woman, whose face was red with anger.

  “Ms. Baronova, I need you to calm down,” he said in Russian. “You haven’t been abducted. We brought you here for your own protection.”

  That didn’t placate her in the slightest. “I demand to call my husband! Give me back my phone right this second!”

  “Hey, Juliet, get in here!” Ethan hollered in the direction of the corridor. His Russian was decent, but the Belarusian language was one he wasn’t entirely fluent in. Juliet’s Belarusian was a million times better than his, and he needed her, pronto, to explain the situation to the outraged Baronova.

  Juliet appeared a moment later, with Anastacia Karin at her heels. Baronova’s screams must have woken the girl up, and she looked scared and confused as she followed Juliet into the living room. Although Ethan had helped her wash up upon their arrival, splotches of dried blood were still caked to her face, which only made Alisa Baronova yell louder.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You’re Anastacia! I saw you on the news!” Gasping, Baronova shot to her feet, wobbling on her five-inch heels. “You people kidnapped this girl!”

  To Ethan’s surprise, it wasn’t Juliet who interjected, but the fifteen-year-old girl who’d witnessed a man get shot today.

  “Someone tried to kill me.” Anastacia’s voice cracked. “These people saved me. And if they brought you here, that means you’re in danger too.”

  Baronova’s cheeks paled. “What?” She swiveled her head to Ethan. “I demand to know what’s going on.”

  Juliet spoke up, cool as a cucumber as she informed the older woman that somebody had hired a hit man to kill her. Baronova grew even paler, eyes as wide as saucers.

  “You’re wrong,” the woman protested when Juliet mentioned the car bombings from earlier in the year. “That was the People’s Revolutionary Front. They bragged about it on television.”

  “They may have been responsible, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that we found a list with your name on it in the hands of a ruthless assassin.”

  That shut Baronova right up. She fell silent for several moments, bringing one long fingernail to her lips and chewing on it like it was a carrot.

  Ethan shot Juliet a grateful look before glancing at Anastacia. “How are you feeling?” he asked the teen.

  “Scared,” she said frankly. Then she hesitated. “Can I call my father?”

  “Not yet. We have to assume that your families are being watched, and their communication devices are most likely tapped. We’re going to keep the two of you here until we can neutralize the threat to your lives.”

  Baronova’s head flew up in alarm. “For how long? And you still haven’t told us who you people are!”

  “We’re special operatives trained to deal with these types of situations,” Juliet said smoothly.

  Ethan hid a grin.

  “Do you speak English?” she asked Baronova.

  “Yes, I speak
it.” The woman responded in English, but with a thick European accent.

  “Good, because these boys over here speak appalling Russian. Anyway, let’s get the introductions out of the way. I’m Juliet. That’s Ethan. Blondie over there is Sullivan, and Liam is the one who looks like a male model.”

  Baronova’s gaze lingered on Liam as if she were noticing his appearance for the first time. When she realized that the man was indeed pretty enough to grace the cover of GQ, her entire demeanor changed. Suddenly she was smiling prettily and staring at Liam with visible approval in her eyes.

  “So, he will be keeping me safe?” she said thoughtfully. “Liam, you said?”

  “At your service.” Although Macgregor’s tone was light, Ethan could tell the man was irritated as hell. And he was slowly edging away, as if getting ready to bolt.

  Ethan didn’t blame the guy. If Alisa Baronova had been looking at him like she wanted to devour him whole, he’d probably feel like running too. But their plan could only be aided by the woman’s cooperation, so if Liam’s good looks kept her calm, Ethan would take advantage of it.

  “Liam will be your personal guard,” he told the enamored woman, ignoring Liam’s glare. “And I promise you”—he included Anastacia in the address—“you’ll be able to call your families the moment we determine it’s safe.”

  As the two females noticeably relaxed, Ethan turned to Sullivan and said, “We picked up some supplies on the way. Can you see about fixing these ladies up with something to eat and drink?”

  Sullivan nodded. “I’m on it.”

  Ethan looked to Juliet next. “Can we talk alone?”

  With a nod, she followed him into the bedroom, where he immediately closed the door behind them and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The headache had finally arrived, a dull throb in his temples that made it difficult to concentrate.

  “Did you talk to Noelle?” he asked Juliet.

  “Yep. She’s making a few calls. She said she’ll get back to me as soon as she can.”

  “She and D are doing okay with Kozlov?”