by Jillian Boyd
Of course, CyberTech Startup didn’t actually exist, but my agency made it look real, just in case he tried to check up. He asked me about the locations I visited and we spent the next hour talking about some of the world’s most famous places. I’d seen half the world in my line of work, so it was an easy subject.
“I’m afraid your cousin ditched you,” Rhymes proclaimed suddenly, looking toward the exit. I turned to see my partner putting Kendra’s coat on her, and leading her out.
“So it seems. Does it bother you?” I asked since my partner was obviously stealing my target’s date away.
“Why would it bother me when I have such a beauty in front of me? Besides, I don’t much like blondes anyway. I preferred dark-haired beauties like yourself.” I hid a smile behind a glass. Of course he did; that’s why I coloured mine.
“Come dance with me.” he said, leading to the dance floor where slow, sensual music was playing.
“I love your dress,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s beautiful. But on you, Melanie, it’s exquisite.”
“Are you always such a charmer?” I smiled. If the situation was different, and I wasn’t trying to find evidence to send him to jail, William Rhymes would be a perfect man.
“Oh, I can be a bad boy. Later, I would like to show you just how bad I can be.”
This time I laughed out loud and I knew I had to have that man. Of course, I was going to send him to jail, but no one said I couldn’t get a bit of action in before that happened.
I felt a prickling at the back of my neck so I turned to the side, looking for whatever was that evaded my senses. Ten seconds later, I found it. There was a man standing by the bar looking straight at us and a strange sense of familiarity engulfed me. The man moved, limping slightly and that’s when it struck me. I knew that man. Hell, I was responsible for his limping. It was on my first mission, years ago in Iraq while working undercover. The man’s name was Irwin and he’d escaped, but not before I’d shot him in the leg. I averted my gaze and prayed he didn’t recognize me. After all, it was years ago and I look nothing like I did back then.
Rhymes saw something was wrong and I feigned being tired and wanting to sit down. He led us back to our table and I knew I had to find the excuse to call for help. Ian was long gone but there was always at least one other agent around. At the agency they told me that in need I look for a blond thirty-something waiter.
Just as I was about to stand up, Irwin came up to us and I thought my cover was up.
“Hello William!” Irwin greeted and made a small nod in my direction. “I just wanted to check if our deal was on for Friday?”
“Of course. Nothing’s changed. This is Melanie Jones. Mel, meet Irwin.” I forced a smile and offered a hand to the man who will carry the limp I gave him for the rest of his life.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Jones.” He cocked his head, studying me as I said another silent prayer. “Have we met before?”
“I don’t believe so, but I’ve been on television a couple of times so perhaps that’s where you’ve seen me.” I straight-out lied. Irwin nodded and continued chatting to Rhymes for a couple of minutes.
When he left us alone, I excused myself and went in a search for a certain waiter. There were two of them that matched the description. The first one was ogling every single woman that passed his way so I dismissed him immediately, turning toward the other one. I approached the bar and said the words I was supposed to say in this situation.
“It’s such a cold night but once you give me another martini I’m sure it will get better.”
The waiter looked left and right to make sure no one could hear us and then asked what was wrong. I briefly explained my situation and he assured me it would be taken care of.
When I returned I found Rhymes talking to another beautiful woman who was trying to spoil my plans. I feigned I was a little tipsy and leaned on him. Rhymes immediately put a hand around my waist and introduced me to the woman.
“Larissa, this is Melanie Jones. Mel, this is Larissa Owens.”
I forced a smile once again and snuggled closer to Rhymes.
“Another flavour of the week, Will?” My immediate aversion must have shown on my face because she laughed. Lucky for me, Rhymes was not amused and gave her a warning.
“Oh, come on Will. Like I don’t know you. Perhaps you should give me a call next week for a little get-together?”
“How about never?” he replied. Larissa huffed and excused herself.
“It seems you’re a hard man to forget.” His chuckle told me I guessed correctly; they were exes.
“How about you find out for yourself?” He leaned closer and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Lead the way.” I replied and Rhymes didn’t waste any more time.
Half an hour later we were at his house. One of seven, apparently. At least, those were the ones the agency knew of. There were two guards on the main gate, another four at the entrance of the house. Rhymes led me through, only giving them a small nod. When we entered the house he offered to make us drinks. I checked again for the key pendant every agent had for a situations like this. In case something goes wrong, push the small button on the side and in ten minutes tops this place would be swarming with agents and cops.
Rhymes offered me a glass and took my hand, leading me upstairs to his room. The moment we stepped in he took the glass from my hand, resting in on the cabinet. And then he was on me. There was no time for finesse as he backed me to the wall and pressed his body against mine. His fingers snaked under the edge of my dress and I could feel the bulge in his pants pressing to my belly. His tongue danced in my mouth, making me moan and arch into him, looking for more. I felt a rush of sensations I hadn’t felt for a long time and it only made my resolve stronger. Just for tonight, Mr. Rhymes was going to be mine.
His lips moved down and began to caress the smooth curve of my neck. He pushed my panties to the side and probed at my entrance, finding me already wet and ready for him. He continued to push his finger in and out, rubbing my swollen clit with his thumb.
“Harder,” I breathed and he removed his hand and pushed himself away from me, walking backwards toward the bed while untying his light-blue tie. His eyes were like molten lava and I knew his arousal and need for me were as strong as mine for him.
“Strip.”
I gladly obeyed, wriggling as I slowly brought the dress over my head and tossed it on the floor. Rhymes was on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and trousers gone, leaving him in briefs. I approached him, but he stopped me.
“All of it.”
I glanced down at the tiny bit of fabric that barely covered anything and eased out of them. I put my knee on the bed and removed his briefs, releasing his cock. My mouth went dry at the sight of him. I lowered my head and licked the tip as I brought my hand up and began to stroke.
“Don’t tease me.” He rasped, barely holding onto his control. I took half of his length inside and felt his muscles flexing. Damn, he was beautiful. A part of me felt sorry because I knew it was going to happen only once. After a couple of minutes of sucking and humming he told me to stop. He sat up, between my thighs. I heard him murmur “Beautiful” as he took in all of me, spread in front of him.
He placed his hands on my thighs and held them apart. He bent down and using his tongue he spread the folds of my pussy and worked his way inside, his tongue probing. I was close and urged him to go faster. It took just moments before I cried out in ecstasy, waves of orgasmic bliss washing over me. In a haze, I heard him tearing at a foil wrapper so I opened my eyes to find him putting a condom on.
“You were playing with me all night, daring me to make you mine. I’m going to get my reward for being a patient man.”
I opened my thighs wider and that was the only invitation he needed. In one hard thrust he was inside, making me arch
my back and call his name. Rhymes pushed his hands under my ass, lifting me without slowing his pace.
“You’re a tease, Melanie. And you really shouldn’t tease a starving man.”
I urged him on with my legs wrapped around his back, clawing at him with my nails. Tomorrow, he was going to have some nasty scars as a reminder on our passion filled night. I screamed in ecstasy as my orgasm made my whole body shudder, clenching his cock and sending him over the edge. Rhymes collapsed on top of me.
Things went blurry then. Because the last thing I remember was snuggling up close to him. I must have fallen asleep because the next time I opened my eyes it was four a.m. Slowly, trying not to wake him up, I got out of the bed and put my dress back on. In the mirror, I could see my make-up was mostly gone, but it didn’t matter anymore. I checked again if he was asleep, and made my way downstairs. The third room I looked in was the one I needed. There were papers everywhere so I hurried; checking every drawer and taking pictures with my mini-camera of everything I could get my hands on. Half an hour later I was done and went to the toilet before I made my way toward the exit. The guards didn’t bother me. They probably expected me to sneak out of the house at some time. It was dark downstairs as I tiptoed to the front door.
Then, the light went on and I turned to the stairs to see Rhymes in his briefs, standing at the top of the stairs. I thought my heart was going to burst from the sudden surge of panic.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rhymes murmured and I contemplated my answer.
“Home?”
“Come back to bed, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” I glanced to the exit, then back at Rhymes and thought why not? After all, there wasn’t going to be another time. That’s why I made my way back and Rhymes showed me - twice - why it a very good idea to go back upstairs indeed.
In the morning, Rhymes made me breakfast and took me to my hotel, giving me a tender kiss before we parted.
“We should meet again. What are you doing next week?” he asked as I opened my door.
“I’ll be in Greece for the next three weeks. Do you want me to give you a call when I come back?” I lied, knowing there wasn’t going to be the next time. He gave me his number and told me we should keep in touch.
Two weeks later I sat in my car, with Ian on the driver’s side as we watched Rhymes’ home flood with cops, agents taking him in cuffs and leading to a car. The night I took pictures is his office I found enough evidence to send him to jail for a long time. I took a sip from my coffee and remembered the moments we spent together.
“Do you ever feel remorse?” Ian asked, breaking the silence. I knew what he was asking; I told him what we did that night. He didn’t judge. After all, he had his fun with Kendra. That’s the beauty of our job. We can do things like that and deceive ourselves it was for the greater good.
“No.” I answered truthfully because I didn’t. Rhymes and I gave each other what we wanted, taking as much as we gave without any promises or regrets. A smile curved my lips as I remembered the pictures my boss gave me of my next target, a blond German businessman with a body of a Greek God. And, right then, I knew that what I did with Rhymes wouldn’t be the last time I did something like that with my target.
Old Spies Club
Emily L. Byrne
The message told me to meet Gia at the café, just off the main plaza, at nine. I showed up early. Old habits die hard. At least I wasn’t getting rusty in my old age.
First, I noted the escape routes: the café’s back door and the plaza itself, filled with evening crowds. Then the potential weapons: an electrical line running above the tables that could be pulled down if I needed it. The chairs were mostly wood and fragile enough to break on impact but sturdy enough to be used as clubs in a pinch. There were a few other things that might work if I needed them. It would do.
I lounged in a doorway across the square to watch the place and wait for Gia. To pass the time, I thought about the last time I’d seen her. It had been years ago, just before I left for South America and she headed to Kashmir. We’d met in a café much like this one. It might have even been this one; they began to look the same after a while.
She’d brought a gun, of course, but I hadn’t had much trouble taking it away from her. Our side always had the best pick-pocketing classes. She said she had a message from HQ to give me. I wasn’t suspicious because she was working for us back then. Or at least I thought she was until I found out what I had to do to get her to turn it over.
That was when I started to wonder. Not that it stopped me. No sir, I applied the finest of American ingenuity at my disposal to the matter at hand. That, and my tongue and fingers, not to mention a few purchases from a tiny little shop a few streets away. Gia came twice in my bed before I got the message out of her, then a few times after that, just for the fun of it.
That was the best part. Of course, it had gone downhill from there. Gia gave me the orders to go to Caracas to meet a man about some research notes, nothing unusual or interesting. Except that Gia stole his contact pass code from me when she snuck out sometime later on that night and the guy in Caracas never showed up to our meet. I could guess what happened to him, but we never found a body.
After that, I heard that she’d gone over to the other side. One of the other sides. I retired a few years later and tried to settle down. But I was restless and ended up take a courier job here, a surveillance gig there. As I said, old habits die hard. That was what brought me back to Italy, making it easier for old friends and foes alike to track me down.
A woman wearing dark glasses and a trench coat walked slowly down the street toward the cafe. Was it Gia? The hair was right: jet black with a touch of silver around the temples, a bit grayer than I remembered. This woman was rounder than Gia had been but the swing of her hips certainly brought back memories of better times. I wondered about her sunglasses since it was getting dark, but then she was always one for the unexpected. I smiled in anticipation and uncoiled from my shelter.
As I got closer, the woman lowered her glasses on her nose a smidge and gave me the once over. She wasn’t Gia: her nose and chin were all wrong. My mood sank, but recovered quickly when I considered how this woman was checking me out. Perhaps the evening wouldn’t be wasted if Gia didn’t show up. It never hurt to try and plan for all the contingencies.
The woman’s dark-eyed gaze swept from my face down to my toes. I wondered if she liked what she saw. I wasn’t sure from what I could see of her face. “You haven’t changed a bit, Nash.” The voice that purred out of her lips was pure Gia: lilting Italian accent and all.
I did a very quick double take. “That’s some disguise. I didn’t recognize you.”
She laughed, but not like she thought I’d made a joke. “No disguise, I’m afraid. They had to reconstruct what was left of my face after my car got bombed in Kandahar.” She took off the glasses and balanced them on her head. “So...have I lost all my appeal?”
What could I say? This new Gia had a longer face and a less aquiline nose. Her lips were thinner and now that I could see all of her face, I could see the shadow of burn scars on her forehead and neck. But who was I to complain? I had plenty of scars of my own so I said what needed to be said, “Sweetheart, you’re gorgeous and you could never be anything but. Now let me buy you dinner and we can get caught up on old times.” I tilted my head at the café and gave her my best lady-killer grin.
A slow answering smile crossed her face and for a moment, she was the Gia I remembered. She led me over to a distant corner table and we sat down to read the menus by the light of the candle in the Chianti bottle. I noticed she replaced the sunglasses with reading glasses and it made me smile a little. I waved to the waiter. “You still drinking Slings?”
“Perhaps just for tonight,” she nodded at the waiter and smiled when I ordered my traditional martini. “Still the same old Nash. I’d have
thought being a creature of habit would have gotten you killed by now. I’m glad to see that it hasn’t.”
“Me too. Though somehow I don’t remember my habits being as dangerous as yours. I’ve never betrayed a partner, for example.” I leaned against the table, my hand clenching under it to loosen the catch that held the tiny gun in my jacket sleeve. Just in case we were in for any re-enactments.
She must’ve heard the quiet pop of the springs. “Put the silly gun away, Nash. Those days are done. Besides, you didn’t think I’d have searched your room without removing your bullets, did you?” She extended one long-fingered hand and showed me an assortment of bullets of various calibers and several clips that I recognized as mine.
I glared at her, wondering if it was worth my while to check the chambers on a few of the pieces I was carrying, the ones that I hadn’t left in my locked room. I decided against it and wondered what else she’d found. “You find anything else of interest?” I asked at last. No point in looking too vulnerable.
“You still carry a picture of me in your wallet.” She smiled and it was breathtaking. The shock of it ran from my eyeballs down below my waist like a shot of good whiskey. Before I knew it, I was damp between the legs and I wanted Gia Morelli like I hadn’t wanted another woman in years. She pulled in closer to the table and I heard a slight scrape of her high heels on the cobblestones.
I braced myself for knives, razors, whatever it was she had tucked up in her shoes. Instead, one of her bare feet slid its way up my calf. Against my better judgment, I pulled her foot up into my lap. I put my sleeve gun away and caressed her foot, feeling my way carefully over her delicate toes and down her instep. I started massaging her silky skin, rubbing until I could see her face relax and her eyelids droop.
That was when the waiter came back. We didn’t move, not like the old days when we would have pulled apart and pretended nothing was going on. I ordered for both of us and he sauntered off with a knowing smile. I kept up my attention to her foot until I thought the time was ripe for answering questions. “So where have you been all these year, babe? And how’d I get so lucky as to have my name pop up on the Rolodex now?”
