Dagger of Desire

by Alexandra Maxwell

  "Yeah, once I read the file, I realized we were breaking up the collection. MoVA only bought the dagger and the scabbard. The rest of the collection is separated between three other museums and two private owners. The museums agreed on a rotation with MoVA to have the entire collection shown at once. After a two-year tour, there are plans for the individual pieces to go back to the museums and the owners, but one private collector wants to purchase all of the pieces. Since the museums aren't relinquishing their pieces of the exhibit, the private collector has been stirring up trouble in the media."

  “I don’t remember that in the dossier,” Ben grunted.

  “It wouldn’t have been in there if you spoke to Dr. Barrett. He’s not exactly in the loop of what’s going on outside of the museum. He was probably told to organize secure transport. Now that I think about it, he was probably asked to complete this trip himself but sent me instead.”

  “I’m glad he sent you instead.”

  5

  Tara blushed at Ben's statement with flashes of her wildly salacious dream resurfacing. She remembered it vividly. With the prickly bristles of his beard growing in, Ben sported a five o'clock shadow making him all the more sexier in Tara's eyes. He drove silently for the next hour or so, letting her get some rest. Her imagination betrayed her sleep, and she dreamt of Ben again.

  Ben pulled the car over to the side of the road not wanting to wait another minute to have her. The minute the car stopped, Ben pulled Tara over the gearshift to pierce her lips with his tongue, engulfing her in a kiss that sent chills down her spine. She could barely keep up as she panted with pent up passion.

  The longer they kissed, the more his hands explored her. He slid one hand easily into her jeans, grazing the sensitive endings of her center before dipping inside of her pleasure while letting his tongue dive into her mouth. Electricity soared through her body as Ben extracted one orgasm after the next. The third and last one was the most powerful causing her to yell out as her essence coated his fingers.

  Ben pulled his fingers out of her and sucked on them gently, moaning as he did so before thumbing her bottom lip and stealing another kiss.

  Tara woke with a gasp to see the hear the radio blaring rather loudly. She brought her seat up to its fully upright position. Disorientation swept across her as she closed one eye and reached for the dial to turn the volume down.

  "Why was that so loud?" she moaned with sleep swaddling her words. She watched Ben's posture stiffen at the tone in her voice, but still he didn't speak. "Well..."

  “You have some vivid dreams, Tara.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You ask a lot of questions for someone who believes living life is best going in unprepared,” he sighed.

  “I meant when you’re not overthinking things so much, not necessarily unprepared. Don’t change the subject either. What did you mean that I have vivid dreams? Was I talking in my sleep or something?”

  "Something like that." He ran his fingers through his hair, which only made Tara want to do it herself. Her awareness of him was palpable. He was frustrating as he continued to avoid the subject.

  Tara continued to press him, hellbent on ignoring his discomfort. “Spill it, Ben. Tell me about my vivid dreams since you know so much.”

  "You're also irritable when you awaken from those dreams," he snickered.

  “I’m only irritable when you deflect. Besides, if you were in the middle of that dream, you’d be irritated if someone woke you from it,” she mumbled.

  "I kind of wish I was in the middle of it. Will you tell me about it?" Ben smiled to himself as her imagined what Tara would like undressed.

  Tara shot straight up with embarrassment, forgetting the close quarters of the car let every word echo between its walls. "I'll tell you about it if you tell me what you heard first."

  “You called out to me,” he stated simply.

  “How would you even know with the radio so loud?”

  “I had to turn it up because your, uh, your moans were distracting me while I drove.”

  Tara gasped, drawing her hand over her mouth, “I’m sorry, Ben. I apologize. I, uh, I didn’t think you heard that much.”

  “Now, it’s your turn,” he smirked and turned toward her. “I told you what I heard and now tell me about your dream.”

  “You pulled the car over and…”

  “And?”

  Tara's chest tightened with hesitation. Her assertiveness was wearing off. Anxiety rippled through her, and she decided to blurt it out, "You gave me the best orgasm I've ever had."

  “I didn’t think you’d say that or say it out loud for that matter.” Ben laughed gleefully at Tara’a admission. It gave him more satisfaction than he would ever want to admit.

  Tara let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, "It is a dream, right? It could be a build-up of everything that's happened since we've picked up these artifacts. Have I thanked you, Ben?"

  “For the orgasm?” he chuckled, “No.”

  She shoved him playfully, “Of course not! I meant for getting me through this. I know that you’re meant to protect the artifacts, but-”

  "You may not be directly under my care by contract, Tara, but I'll protect you as fiercely as I would anyone I'm paid to." He touched the top of her hand, making her blush with warmth rushing to her cheeks.

  6

  Ben drove through the night until they neared the Utah-Colorado border. They were three days into it, and Ben had already grown weary of the road. He didn't feel like driving anymore. As he pulled into another hotel parking lot, he made sure to escort Tara and the artifacts through the lobby and to their adjoining rooms. He hated being on the move like this with an unknown assailant on their trail. He hadn't seen anyone following them, but he didn't know what kind of car to look for either.

  He secured the room before letting her inside. Tara eyed the room with both of her hands gripping the single handle of the artifacts case in front of her. A hefty gust of exhaustion blew from between her lips, “More beige. Why don’t they design these rooms with some more vivid colors? This white and beige palette is really depressing.”

  “It’s fine, Tara.” He gave her half of a grin, “We’re not going to be on the road much longer. Maybe one of these stops will have a wacky theme or something to break up the monotony.”

  “What should we eat?” she asked him, setting down the case and picking up the room service menu.

  “You know I’m easy.”

  That boyish grin drew out a mischievous expression from Tara as she tapped the corner of the menu on the nightstand. “Are you really or are you just teasing me?”

  Ben stepped close to Tara, so close that he could see the steady pulse of her heart beating softly in her neck. The smoothness of her skin called to him like a whisper over a breeze. He leaned down so close that his lips practically touched hers and spoke so that she could feel the breath of his words. She could feel his body without it even touching hers. “This is me teasing you, Tara.”

  Without giving her the kiss they both intensely desired, he pulled away from her. Tara’s face flushed red with passion, anger, and frustration. In a move swifter that Ben anticipated, Tara grabbed the pillow off of the bed and clocked him with it.

  They both erupted into laughter while Ben ducked and dodged the next blows she delivered out of frustration and then in fun. Over his head. One to his side. Then another at his knee. He let her swat him a few more times before yanking the pillow from her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her in close.

  The kiss they shared in this moment held the promise of unbridled passion. Ben claimed her mouth for all of the dreams she'd had of him and refused to tell him about, along with all of the times he wished he could make them come true. His tongue slipped between her lips and chased hers for seconds that seemed like an eternity.

  Tara let herself fall back onto the bed without breaking their embrace. Ben held her arched back into his frame while an erectio
n fought against his cargo pants. He wanted to feel the warmth of the orgasm, begging to be released from the most bottomless chasms of her pleasure. Ben's mouth moved from hers down to the hollow of her neck, gliding along the outline of her shoulder while one hand found the bottom of her shirt, but something jabbed in his side.

  The hardened steel from the butt of his gun, safely holstered against his rib cage felt like a hard punch in the jaw. Reality crashed over them both as they parted ways with lust laden in their eyes. The silence screamed between them, with Tara pressing her fingers against her freshly kissed lips.

  “I think we should get something to eat,” Tara finally said.

  "How about you order, and I'll do a sweep of the property? Any kind of beef with veg and potatoes. When we're done eating, we can talk about this."

  He noticed her swallow silently like he wanted to devour her. That wasn’t far from the truth, but he’d devour her another time when they didn’t need to be vigilant about their surroundings. Ben left the room confidently, but as soon as he stepped into the hall, he planted his back against the door to calm his throbbing erection.

  "Football, kickoffs, three-point shots, target practice, boxing, hitting the bag, sparring with Tate. That did it," Ben laughed to himself. The image of him sparring with Tate left him completely flaccid. He let his eyes wander up and down the hallway, peeking from door to door, wondering about the guests behind them. All was quiet for the most part. He moved from floor to floor until he made it to the lobby.

  Ben wondered if he’d see the man who’d chased them down in the pickup truck. A glance around the lobby and the only face he recognized was Tate!

  Tate stood at the counter in a leather jacket and a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. He spoke with the receptionist and flashed her a killer smile. Just like he told Tara, he'd be at the low end of the sex on a stick totem pole. Tate stood about an inch or two taller than Ben. Rich ginger locks swooped in front of his face that he brushed away with a wave of his hand to reveal a pair of slate grey eyes. The girl at the counter was enamored with Tate.

  Ben walked over to interrupt them, "I didn't think you were getting here so soon. Why didn't you call me? I would have picked you up from the airport or something."

  "It's fine. They have these amazing things here called trains and taxis. I took a train and then a taxi. It's fine. I also have some news for you."

  “What’s that?”

  "I know who's after those artifacts, and they're in this hotel right now."

  7

  Ben stared at Tate as though he had five heads and was ready to draw his weapon. His mind went to Tara in the suite upstairs. She was alone with the artifacts. Almost as if Tate could read his mind, he grabbed Ben by the wrist to stop him from unholstering his weapon.

  “Who are we looking for?” Ben asked him.

  Tate pulled out his phone to show him a picture on his phone. There was an average looking guy, tall, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and a thick mustache.

  “Name and pedigree?”

  "Erik Anderson, late 30's, mercenary for hire, no known associations. He hasn't been on the scene long enough to have a name for himself. Our guess is he's a goon for someone. He's not very experienced, or you guys would have never made it out of the Mallard estate."

  “You said he’s here?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been arguing with the front desk and security guard about a blind spot in the parking lot. I need them to hand over the security footage, but with how cagey they’re being, I’m guessing those are dummy cameras outside. The only ones that probably work are these,” he pointed to the cameras placed around the lobby.

  "Where is this Anderson guy?" Ben couldn't stop his heart from thumping against his chest. "We gotta get up to Tara to see if she's alright. There are two sets of stairs. We're on the third floor, rooms eight and nine. 15 rooms on each floor, five floors. I didn't see anybody on my way down here doing my sweep."

  Tate turned his head side to side. A subtle scratch to his chin with a furrowed brow told me he was stumped about something, "You know there's no way to sweep a building this big by yourself. We need at least 8 more guys. What do you want to do?"

  “I want to go check on Tara. I think the best thing for us to do is to have this discussion with her and the artifacts nearby.”

  Tate agreed with Ben and followed him up to the suite where Tara was busy on her phone. She didn’t look up to see Ben wasn’t alone when she blurted out, “I’m happy to talk about that kiss whenever you’re ready, but can we-”

  Tate snickered, "A kiss, you say? I am devastated, it couldn't be me."

  “Oh my! Sorry!” Tara snapped and hopped out of the bed, “Who are you? You look really familiar.”

  “You spoke to my brother, Rork,” Tate extended his hand. “I’m Tate Calhoon. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Samuels.”

  Ben swatted Tate away from her, “Hook your phone up to the TV. Show her who we’re looking for. Maybe she’s seen him before and can tell us who he’s working for.”

  Tate put Anderson’s picture on the screen. Ben walked over to the screen standing between Tara and Tate as they stared at the face on the screen.

  “Who is that?” Tara asked the both of them.

  Tate swiped through a few screens to pull up photos from the airport, "This is the partial shot we got from the rental car lot. We had to do some digging, but we finally found him based on the ID he gave the agent. We were able to trace it with his boarding pass to grab this shot. As of right now, we don't have any known affiliations for this guy. I doubt that's even his real name."

  “How did you track him here?” Ben asked.

  “Once we got his name and ID-”

  Tara interrupted Tate with disbelief, “This guy is here?! In this hotel? We have to leave! Now!”

  “Easy,” Tate pumped his hands to slow her down, “If we can nab this guy here, we might be able to get you guys back to the East Coast in one piece. How about we just do a sweep of this floor? Ben, you and I can take shifts.”

  "So, I don't get a shift?" Tara eyed Tate with a discerning eye.

  Ben shrugged at Tate and motioned for him to continue. “Aren’t you, uh, staying with the artifact?”

  "Yeah, so what does that have to do with me taking a shift staying up to lookout?"

  “You don’t have a weapon,” Tate blurted out. “And weren’t you knocked unconscious?”

  Ben elbowed Tate in the side hard.

  “You’d be caught off guard if you were running and came around a corner blind too! Ben lets me take driving shifts and everything.”

  Tate cocked his head to the side with his eyes darting back and forth between them, “Really? This guy lets you drive?”

  “Well,” Tara hesitated, “He will. I’m sure of it. Ben! Say something!”

  Ben smirked at her, "I think since Tate and I are armed, we're going to do a sweep of the floor. I am exhausted, so you two can take shifts watching the artifacts."

  “He’s joking!” Tate headed toward the door, “Let’s go!”

  Tate stepped into the hall, but Ben approached Tara with a level of lust and playfulness in his eyes she couldn’t ignore.

  “I don’t want to be babied now that your buddy is here,” she mumbled.

  “We wouldn’t dare.”

  “I don’t want to be seduced either,” she smirked at him.

  Ben hooked his finger under her chin, “Are you sure about that?”

  He let his hand hold the side of her face gently before pushing her fingers into her hair and bringing her in for a kiss. One slip of his tongue inside of her mouth had Tara pressing herself against him.

  Tate banged against the door loudly before shouting through it, “Ben, let’s go!”

  “He’s impatient,” Tara growled.

  “He is, but I need you to stay put, please. We’ll do a quick sweep of the floor before we come back. If anyone comes to that door without a key, don’t open it! Use the double door joining the r
ooms to go in mine if that happens and take the artifacts with you.”

  “Okay,” she told him.

  One quick kiss sealed their plan as Ben left the room to search the floor with Tate. They split up to go in opposite directions with each one taking a side of the hallway until they both stood in front of an emergency stair exit. They nodded to one another before bursting through the doors simultaneously.

  Nothing.

  There wasn’t anyone in either staircase. They made their way back to the two rooms.

  “Did you book a room?” Ben asked Tate.

  Tate batted his eyelashes and plopped his head on Ben’s shoulder, “Don’t you want to sleep with me, honey?”

  “And you yelled at me for getting mushy,” Ben shook Tate off of him. “Look, you can snag mine.”

  "So, you can share the bed with your client?" Tate laughed.

  “Of course not. I’d never sleep with the artifacts.”

  8

  Tara slept soundly while the loud snores of Tate Calhoon penetrated the door separating the rooms. Ben sat in a chair against the room's door that led to the hallway with his feet on the table across from the artifacts. She tossed and turned, unable to find sleep and those vivid dreams she loved having with those special climactic appearances from Ben. She sighed, yawned, and stretched before sitting up in the bed.

  It was barely after three in the morning when she realized something. The boorish grunts of Tate's sleep apnea that lulled them to sleep earlier were now silent. The quiet didn't sit right with her. Ben remained in his chair with his eyes closed and arms folded across his chest as it rose up and down slowly in the darkness.

  Tara pushed herself out of bed and eyed the floor in search of her bag. She was sure that she’d tossed her socks on it.

  “What’s wrong?” Ben’s voice cut through the night, startling her.