The Volkov Affair

by Taylor Lee

  Nicki buried her face deeper against his chest stricken by the hideousness of his casually caustic statement.

  “Ironic huh? But one lesson I learned as though I didn’t already know it. When it comes to the people I love—specifically the women I love, I’m horseshit at taking care of them. Something always happens. I can’t protect them. That’s why I’m scared shitless, Nicki, about you going tomorrow. Yeah, you have to do this. You are the single best person to make this work. But, baby, I sure hope you are as good as I think you are, because you better not count on me. My track record… it ain’t good, sweetheart. It doesn’t bode well.”

  Nicki murmured over and over how sorry she was. Tears streamed down her face onto his chest. The sheets and pillow case were damp with her tears rolling off his chest. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. They were endless. She didn’t try to minimize the horror of what happened. Or tell him it wasn’t his fault. She intuitively knew that would keep him from ever talking about it again.

  After several minutes of listening to her sobbing quietly beside him, he snuffed out his cigarette and stood up.

  “Where are you going, Rafe?”

  “I’m gonna shower, Princess. It’s been a long day. Gray and I really went at it in the ring. For once he needed to blow off as much steam as I did.”

  While his tone was casual, Nicki sensed the barricades going up. She was already losing him. She lay in bed listening to the shower, then made a decision. Now that he had bared his soul to her, if she didn’t go to him, he’d close her off, shut her out. He’d build an even higher wall, complete with ramparts. A wall so high and thick she’d never be able to breech it. She was certain that after he’d told her father the hideous story, the two men never discussed it again. She wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

  Nicki walked into the bathroom stripping off her tank top and hip hugging briefs. Through the glass stall she saw him leaning against the shower wall. His forearms were stretched out in front of him bracing him. His head hung between them as if it was too heavy for him to hold up. Even blurred by the cloudy wall, he was impressive. Tall, lean. His broad shoulders and strong arms and thighs were visible though the steamy glass. For the first time, she also saw the vulnerable man. The man with way too much resting on his broad shoulders. She wasn’t sure how, but she was about to take some of that burden off the shoulders of the man she loved.

  Chapter 34

  “Nicki, please. Not now. Please go.”

  Nicki didn’t need to hear his words to know that he didn’t want her. His scowl and tightening muscles in his neck and shoulders when she opened the door and stepped in conveyed the message. If she’d let them, his harsh words would have wounded her.

  “Please, Nicki, I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to be alone.”

  Nicki gave a derisive snort.

  “You need a lot of things, Rafe. To be alone is not one of them.”

  Brushing past him, she slid her naked body against his, grabbing for the soap. Opting for the less confrontational rear view, she stood behind him. Rubbing the soap between her hands she used it to lather his strong back, his hard ass, and long muscular legs. She ignored his attempt to pull away, glad that the shower was just roomy enough to hold them both. That he had to feel her body against his whether he wanted to or not. When his backside was slippery with soap, she began to knead the rigid muscles striping his neck and shoulders. Having spent a lifetime pushing her body the way Rafe pushed his, Nicki knew the places that ached and the ones that begged to be touched. She worked her strong fingers into the knots and tight muscles the way her trainers had worked hers. She ignored his objections, instead moving systematically from muscle group to muscle group, kneading, digging into the tightest spots, gently rubbing the place when the knot released. Little by little Rafe stopped resisting, moaning softly when Nicki’s healing hands found a particularly tender place.

  When she felt his neck and shoulder muscles soften under her expert touch, she began working her way down his spine. Testing the tightness around each spinal ridge, she worked slowly, carefully, not missing a spot. Dropping to her knees, she nudged his legs apart, to better reach around his muscular thighs. When he resisted, she reached up and pinched his butt.

  “Spread ‘em Soldier. Unless you want to miss out on something that feels really good.”

  Rafe chortled and grunted something that sounded like ‘smartass’. Nevertheless he inched his legs apart but held back guarding more than his jewels. No matter how good her expert massage was making him feel, it was clear he was waiting for the opportunity to ask her to leave. Deciding it was time to up the ante, Nicki kneeled up and began to massage his tight butt. God, he was beautiful. She’d been ogling his ass since the first day she saw him. In the flesh it was twice as good as her most vivid imagination. She dug her fingers into the tight muscles inching her thumbs closer to the inviting crack that separated his tight cheeks.

  He pulled away and growled.

  “What the hell are you doing, Nicki?”

  She held on and kept working the rigid muscles.

  “What I’ve wanted to do since the first day I saw you. And I gotta tell you, Rafe, if ever there was a poster boy for ‘Tight Ass’, this butt wins the prize hands down.”

  He snorted, then reached behind himself and grabbed her hands. It was instructive that he didn’t face her. She didn’t have to look hard to see the reason. His arousal was apparent from the fleeting glimpse he allowed her. Knowing he was seconds away from throwing her out, she did the most outrageous thing she could think of. Wedging his legs apart she crawled through them then whirled around and came face to face with the most stunning view of her man that she could have hoped for.

  “What the hell!”

  His shocked exclamation echoed through the tight stall. He reached down to grab her but she buried her cheek against his thigh and held on tight. The water was hot, pulsing. It ran through her hair and over her breasts.

  “Nicki, no.”

  His voice was rough, but beneath the denial she heard his need. Oh yeah, she didn’t have to see his burgeoning arousal to know that he wanted her. How could he not? A naked woman on her knees in front of him was bound to get a reaction. Her body was flaming with desire just at the sight of him.

  Before he could he could push her away, she murmured against his hard thigh.

  “I want you, Rafe. I want to love you the way you love me. All of you.”

  He groaned and gripped her shoulders.

  “No baby, no. I can’t let you do this. It isn’t right. You…you don’t know what you are doing. “

  Her voice was earnest as she leaned back to stare up at him.

  “Then teach me. Tell me what to do. Show me how to make you feel as good as I do when you make love to me.”

  His face contorted with a mix of desire and determination to push her away.

  “No, Nicki. No. I…I don’t want you to do this.”

  Something snapped inside of her. He needed to know that she wanted all of him. The hero and the vulnerable man who fought hideous demons from the past. And she wanted all of his body. His gorgeous powerful body that she ached to take in her hands and her mouth.

  She tossed her head and shoved his hands away.

  Pressing both of her hands against his thighs, she snapped, “Fine. Don’t teach me. I’ll figure it out by myself.”

  Staring at the huge appendage inches from her face, she muttered, “Good God, how complicated can it be?”

  He snorted a sound between a groan and a guffaw.

  Sensing his lowered resistance, she pressed her advantage, tentatively taking him in her hands. She gently caressed him, running her hands up and down the length of him.

  He groaned and shuddered at her touch.

  She glanced up, still somewhat annoyed at his refusal to coach her.

  “It’s not as though I haven’t read books you know. I’m not a complete idiot.”

  This time he did laugh, but it ende
d in a groan.

  To make the point, she pulled him toward her and ran her tongue over the end of his swollen head and licked the slit. To her surprise, she loved the taste of him. He was salty, sweaty, sexy. In that instant she understood her power. It was the same power he had over her, when he touched and tasted her most intimate places. Growing more confident, she used both her hands to encircle him. She rubbed her hands up and down the silky skin, marveling at steely shaft beneath. At first she was gentle… but hearing his breath catch and his muttered pleas, she rubbed harder, firmer. She squeezed him and stroked him delicately, then more deliberately, provocatively. To her delight her demanding touch made him harder, thicker, and heavier.

  “Fuck, Nicki. Goddamn, baby. You’re gonna have to stop. You’re killing me, Princess.”

  She glanced up, thrilled by the tension on his face, his contorted muscles, the flush to his cheeks.

  “Sorry, Soldier. You’re going to have to grin and bear it, because I’m just getting started. And, Rafe, I’m not going to stop and neither are you.”

  She felt something snap, as though his body made the decision for him. He groaned a hard male sound then buried his hands in her hair. No longer resisting her, he tipped her head back and pulled her closer to him. She felt his legs clench in anticipation. His eyes were glazed with desire.

  “Fuck, Princess. Don’t…don’t stop.”

  And she didn’t. She was bolder than she dreamed possible. She wanted him, all of him. He was so big, so strong, so powerful—but so was she. She followed his lead, heeding the sounds of his growing excitement, his gasps and groans. She responded to the strain of his muscles, his hands over hers, guiding her, teaching her how to love him. But it was his agonized cry when she opened her mouth and took him inside, that shook her to her core. She possessed him, the way he possessed her, completely, joyfully. His triumphant cry when he came was all she’d ever need to know—that this was her man, and for him to know that she was his woman.

  ~~~

  Yuri attempted to hide his eagerness. He knew it was unlikely that Karl would call him unless he had something to report. But he put off asking the questions on his tongue, afraid of what he might hear.

  Karl clearly agreed. Participating in the most banal conversation, each man felt the other out. One was eager for news, the other anxious about what he had to report.

  “Ah, Yuri, remember the good old days when the Communist party had us by the balls and we pretended to enjoy it?”

  “But of course. Good old days indeed. Little did the bastards know that all we had to do to succeed in the aftermath of the fall was the opposite of everything they taught us.”

  Karl agreed.

  “As if a system that mocked the work ethic could ever survive. What was that old saying, ‘we pretend to work…and they pretend to pay us.’”

  Yuri gave a snort of laughter.

  “Ah yes. Truer words were never spoken. But we showed them, did we not, old friend? Neither one of us has anything to complain about—at least regarding our economic success. But tell me Karl, what have you discovered? As much as I enjoy mocking the foolishness of our former comrades, I have a more pressing concern.”

  “Yes indeed, Yuri. I don’t know if this has any impact on the ‘Volkov’ affair you are concerned about. But your instincts about the day of your tragedy are on target. I have discovered that there was a survivor that terrible day.”

  “That is not possible, Karl. I counted the bodies. Ensured that they were all dead.”

  “No doubt, Yuri, the ones you saw were dead, as you made sure. But an old friend of mine who knew Leonid told me in the strictest confidence that Leonid’s nephew, who was a young man at the time, has bragged over the years that he was there at the scene. Not to hurt you further, but he also bragged about participating in the attack on Tatiana.”

  Yuri’s heart constricted, as though a vise were slowly constricting the bloodflow. He struggled against the pain. Oh God, let him not have a heart attack. Not when he was close to figuring out this puzzle.

  “Name? His name?”

  “But, of course, Yuri. His name is Vikenti Kozar. The son of Leonid’s older brother, Griorgi. According to my source, Vikenti left the warehouse to replenish the villains’ vodka stores as you arrived. He hid in the basement like the coward he is. Ten years ago, he began reaching out to the leaders of the Vor, trying to clear Leonid’s name. But as you know, Leonid’s perfidy is well documented thanks to the very information you presented to the clan.”

  Yuri’s heart clenched, remembering his righteous certainty that he had no choice but to report Leonid’s massive theft—causing the Kozars’ wholesale expulsion from the clan. Even in the face of Leonid’s vicious threats to him and his family, Yuri had persevered and presented the facts to the Vor leadership. His righteousness ensured the fall of one of his greatest rivals. Yuri was after all, an honorable man.

  “And this Vikenti? Where is he now?”

  “I am not certain. The last word anyone had was that the latest of his many schemes floundered. He apparently has spent much of his life trying to restore the Kozar name with the Vor. But as smart as Leonid was, Vikenti from all reports is a loser. And he drowns his losses in the scourge of our country, the taste of the fermented potato.”

  “But now, Karl, where is he now?

  “Ah, I regret I do not know. The last anyone in the Mafioso has seen or heard from him was five years ago. But…the widespread opinion is that he left for the U.S. certain that the streets of gold would make him a rich man… and in the process help him buy back his family’s honor.”

  ~~~

  Yuri was grateful that in his last troublesome conversation with Nikita, he had brought his niggling concerns about the ‘Volkov’ to Rafe’s attention. Now at least they had something to go on besides the fears of an old man who spent much too much time agonizing over the past. If anyone could track down Vikenti Kozar, Rafe could. He prayed that he would do it soon. Perhaps then Yuri could once again sleep through the night without whispers of uncertainty plaguing him. Perhaps he could break the fingers of fear riding up the back of his neck—the ones that insisted the last chapter of that dreadful day twenty five years ago had yet to be written.

  Chapter 35

  Rafe helped Katya into the Gulfstream 210 commuter plane, one of ten he kept in their well-camouflaged hangar. After she was settled, he chatted with the pilot waiting for Caleb and Nicki. They’d gone over their plans as thoroughly as the Manhattan Project team. Rafe never left anything to chance, but this mission had a wild card he’d never played before: Nicki was running it.

  Caleb planned to accompany the women to D.C., where they’d board a commercial flight to LaGuardia. At LaGuardia they were to be met by a blond man who’d introduce himself to “Mindy” as Aiden. Since they already had Aiden Frank’s rap sheet, he’d be easy to spot. Twenty ISA agents were positioned in limousines within a five mile radius of LaGuardia ready to tail whoever picked them up. Rafe and the rest of the team would pick up Caleb in D.C. and fly into LaGuardia, arriving an hour before Nicki and Katya.

  Their goal was as simple as it was horrific: Nicki and Katya were bait. Their job was to get noticed… and captured—and placed in the auction. They’d left nothing to chance; Rafe had imbedded so many tracking devices in Nicki and Katya’s clothing and luggage it would be a wonder if they made it through security, although Rafe in fact knew they would. Every item of ISA technology was ‘black-op’ certified and wouldn’t trip even the most sensitive scanner. Rafe was confident the girls could walk into the Oval Office without so much as a raised eyebrow.

  At Jeff Peter’s low whistle, Rafe looked up to see what caught his attention and took a deep breath. Hoisting himself out of the cockpit, he moved to greet Nicki. He reminded himself for hundredth time that Nicki was a trained operator… as good as any he’d worked with. But in all his years of sending men into certain danger, he’d never sent one that looked like her. Her outfit was as stunning as she
was. She could have stepped onto any runway in Milan and brought down the house. Her explanation to Caleb was spot on.

  “The whole point is to stand out, Caleb. I don’t want them to see anyone but me… and after they’ve put their tongues back in their mouths, they’ll lose them again when they see Katya.”

  For once Caleb was speechless or at least unable to deliver a smart retort.

  “I hear you, hotstuff, but damn. What makes you think they won’t grab you and take you for themselves? Hell, they may decide to keep you.”

  She sniffed.

  “No need to worry about that, Caleb. Not when they can make the kind of money they can, selling me to Abdullah’s crowd. Remember the briefing; the men attending that auction will pay whatever they have to, if something or someone strikes their fancy. That’s why I need to stand out. Those Arab sheiks may drape their women from head to toe in black gunny sacks, but behind closed doors the women look like me—only fancier.”

  Rafe saw Nicki’s eyes light up when she saw him. She rewarded him with a smile, and a rush of pink flamed her cheeks. Rafe returned her smile amused at Caleb’s reaction to her outrageous attire. At Caleb’s doubtful frown, Nicki pointed to Rafe with a toss of her head.

  “Ask your boss, Caleb, if you don’t believe me. He runs in Abdullah’s circles. He knows what women look like who routinely prance around with $20,000 of clothing, showing off their gorgeous bodies.”

  Rafe loped toward them, doing his best to appear at ease. Wrapping his arm around Nicki’s shoulder, he pulled her close, drinking in the heady fragrance of her subtly expensive perfume.