G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  “You know, Eli,” I said, “I think you’ll find D.C. to be fairly liberal about alternative lifestyles. Maybe you’ll find someone to love there.”

  “Maybe we both will,” he replied softly. “So, are you hoping to see your hottie at the New Year’s Eve shindig?”

  I shrugged impassively. “I don’t care one way or the other,” I lied.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it, girl. Don’t worry though. You’ll turn his head regardless of what you’re wearing. I have a feeling when the dude looks at you, he’s not picturing you clothed anyway.” He winked over at me.

  “Ha, and what makes you say that?”

  “I’m gay, not cold-blooded, sweetheart.”

  “Well regardless, you know he’ll have Lacee clinging all over him, as always. You know the one he says is his executive assistant? Executive assistant, my ass.”

  “I’m glad to see you don’t care one way or the other about it. It looks like this party’s going to be fun. Hey, maybe I can be of help to you on the Lacee front,” he said, tossing me another one of those, what I was beginning to recognize as Eli-trademark, winks.

  Oh yeah. Definitely a beautiful relationship in the making.

  We finished with our wardrobe selection for the following night. We had plans to work out together in the morning, and then hang by the pool until it was time to get ready for the party. My vacation was turning out to be better than I’d ever expected.

  Darin who?

  chapter 6

  I was putting on the finishing touches to my hair and make-up when Eli arrived, looking like someone I’d have every intention of hitting on. If he were straight, that is.

  He, naturally, was wearing his Calvin Klein tuxedo, with a two-button notched lapel, satin besom pockets with the pleated trousers that went with it. His thick, blond hair was fashionably tousled and he had his five o’clock shadow going, which was the perfect touch for this evening. The guy could be a runway model.

  “Hello, gorgeous supermodel,” I said as I gave him a quick hug after letting him into the villa. During the quick embrace, he managed to reach the part of the zipper at the back of my dress I’d had trouble with before.

  “Don’t tell me, let me guess—Jovani?” Eli suggested, once again guessing the designer who was responsible for tonight’s dress, as he finished zipping up the form-fitting material.

  “Dude knows his designers, I’m impressed,” I replied with a wink. My mother had actually purchased this for me when we shopped the other day. It was indeed a Jovani; a sexy strapless little black dress that had a sheer overlay with a wire hem ruffle hemline, and a rosette with jewel embellishments. It was short, my mother had a bit of an issue with that, until I promised her I wouldn’t bend over the whole evening.

  “Bend over? You better not even sneeze,” she’d clucked, giving in as usual.

  I had a black, Spanish-lace wrap in case the evening got chilly, and of course, black stilettos and clutch. I had piled my hair up on top of my head, letting wispy cascades escape to frame my face, and wore long, silver drop ball earrings.

  “You, sweetheart, look magnificent, I might add,” Eli remarked, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sure you’ll be quite the distraction tonight. Mission accomplished.”

  “Hey,” I said, turning and leaving the room to grab my wrap and clutch, “that remains to be seen, Mr. Chambers. Do you dance, by the way?”

  “Do I dance?” he asked, giving me a major eye roll. “Do I dance? You really need to ask?”

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then. Good—because I love to dance and shake my stuff, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure how much you can shake in that number,” he commented. “You’re virtually overflowing at the top.”

  “I know, right?” I giggled. “Let’s go.”

  Dinner and dessert had been served. My parents had dinner with us and then begged off for the rest of the evening, saying they were going back to their condo to relax and have a couple of nightcaps. My instincts told me they thought Eli and I wanted to be alone. I should probably have told them about me and Eli at this point, but it seriously was just too fucking entertaining to see them fawn all over the poor guy.

  The band was awesome, playing a mixture of soft, classic, and alternative rock. Eli and I had fast danced a couple of times. I wanted to dance to a couple of slow songs that I absolutely loved, but Eli refused, saying that my tush and va-jay-jay would be exposed. He was kidding, I’m sure. When we sat back down at our table after leaving the dance floor, he ordered more drinks.

  “Why the sad face, pretty girl? Disappointed that your hottie hasn’t shown yet?”

  “Not really,” I lied, tossing down the rest of my cocktail, trying to appear unaffected.

  “Well, get ready to lose the frown,” Eli said with a grin. “Check it out at three o’clock,” he finished with a nod. I immediately turned to my right—nothing.

  “My three o’clock,” he laughed.

  “That’s not the way you’re supposed to do it, Eli,” I hissed, now coyly looking to my left. And there he was, without that fake blonde who he usually always came equipped with, I’d like to add.

  E.J. was dressed in a black, Dior tux that was custom-tailored to fit perfectly to his lean, masculine build. His hair had been trimmed a bit, and it was somewhat disheveled—maybe from the ocean breeze that had whipped up this evening, or maybe from something else. He had an almost predatory thing going on tonight, much different than the persona he’d presented previously. I was even more curious now than ever. I hadn’t intended to stare, but when his gaze locked onto mine, I could feel myself blush at being busted. A-fucking-gain.

  A slow, sardonic smile spread across his full, luscious lips. His smoldering gray eyes seemed to undress me with their intensity as they gazed sensually into mine. He turned around to the bar when his drink was placed in front of him.

  “Stare much?”

  I startled a little bit, hearing my friend’s voice as he brought me out of my E.J. trance.

  “Oh. Sorry, Eli. My God, how obvious was that?”

  He let out a low whistle. “Major obvious.”

  “Thanks for your words of reassurance,” I replied, dryly. “I’m just trying to figure out why Blondie isn’t around.”

  “It’s as if you have mental telepathy,” Eli sighed, nodding his head towards the entrance door of the club. There she was, all decked out in a ruby-red sequined party dress. It was tight, strapless and her huge breasts were spilling over the top of the scalloped bodice. Her blonde hair was gathered up into a messy tangle of curls that cascaded around the crown of her head. She wore black stiletto heels that made her about four inches taller.

  “Fuck me,” I commented, a bit louder than intended.

  “No worries, doll. I’ve got this,” Eli said, standing up and heading towards her in his gorgeous blond glory. Oh yeah, he was something else. He wasn’t gone more than thirty seconds when a fresh drink arrived for me.

  “The gentleman at the bar sent this over, Miss. He wonders if he might join you for a moment.” I was totally dumbstruck, but I managed a nod ‘yes’ to the server, swallowing nervously. I took a sip of my drink and, within moments, E.J. had taken the seat vacated by Eli.

  “You look exquisite tonight, Nicole,” his sultry voice floated to my ears. “You know, I don’t even know your last name,” he continued.

  Why do I suddenly feel as if I’m the prey…?

  “Maybe it’s better if you and I remain on a first name basis, E.J.,” I replied curtly, taking another sip of liquid courage. This man unnerved me and, for whatever reason, I wasn’t comfortable with it. Sexually, hell yes I wanted him, but something about him also sent warning bells to my brain.

  “As you wish,” he said, lowering his gaze to the swell of my breasts. I squirmed a bit in my seat, crossing my leg, which in the 4-inch heels I was wearing, caused my knee cap to bang against the underside of t
he table.

  Fuck, that hurt!

  “Are you alright?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in slight amusement.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “So, will Lacee be joining us at the table?”

  “I hadn’t planned on inviting her, unless you’d like me to do so. Are you interested in ménage?” He smiled wickedly at me.

  I nearly spewed the last sip of my drink onto him as I choked on his words. “I beg your pardon?” I hissed, trying my damndest to compose myself.

  Another flicker of amusement crossed his face. “I didn’t mean to offend or shock you. I guess I was simply trying to understand your reason for asking about Lacee. I thought I was perfectly clear that she’s my assistant, who occasionally travels with me on business.”

  “Oh, I think she’s a little more than that. You forget how thin those walls are between the condos. Actually,” I said, shifting in my seat, “it doesn’t matter. I just don’t appreciate being lied to.”

  “When did I lie to you?” he asked, quirking that beautiful brow once again.

  “The night…the night we had dinner,” I stammered. “I asked if she was your fiancé, wife, fuck-buddy, girlfriend—whatever, remember?”

  “Absolutely, and as I recall, I told you she wasn’t my wife, fiancé or girlfriend. Where’s the lie?”

  “It’s a lie by omission,” I shrugged, trying to hide the fact I was getting a little pissed. “You didn’t admit you were fuck-buddies and you should have.”

  “Whatever Lacee and I are together physically is really not the issue. I’m not emotionally involved with her and there was never a vow of monogamy. I don’t sleep around, Nicole, but I do have needs. I can assure you that my dick has never entered Lacee unsheathed. You’ve nothing to worry about. Can you say the same to me about your fuck buddy?”

  “I’m sorry, say again?” I leaned forward, not having any freakin’ clue what he was talking about.

  His eyes grew harsh as he nodded to somewhere behind me. Eli and Lacee were on the dance floor on the other side of the room, molded together in a slow dance to the band’s instrumental song.

  “Eli’s not my fuck buddy,” I said, turning back to face him with a haughty look.

  “Oh really?” he asked incredulously. “It seems I recall him loitering around your villa one morning recently. I presumed he’d stayed over.”

  “Whatever we were doing is none of your business,” I quickly informed him. “You weren’t interested, remember?”

  “So, of course you found someone else to fuck posthaste.” The pissier he got with me, the more aristocratic British vocabulary crept into his voice. The words, I loved. The tone? Not so much.

  I took a long sip of my drink. “For your information, Eli’s becoming a good friend. He’s not interested in having sex with me, so there.”

  “I find that very difficult to believe.” He gave me a wry look.

  “I’m not his type, if you catch my drift.” His look of disbelief went to confusion and then, yep, there it was: realization.

  “Oh. I see,” he replied softly, a quirk of a smile appearing, along with that gorgeous dimple.

  “And, for the record, I’m offended that you obviously think I’m some slutty skank. Just because I was kind of drunk and…lonely the night I grabbed your junk, doesn’t mean I make a habit of doing that. I think I shared with you the fact that I recently ended a one-year relationship that was monogamous—at least on my part, anyway.”

  “Indeed you did, which I also explained at the time was the reason things didn’t go further with us. It didn’t mean forever, though.”

  Now it was my turn to be puzzled. He saw my frown and the corner of his mouth curled into a cryptic grin. I was mesmerized by that grin. There was something refined, powerful, and there it was again: predatory about it. My reverie was broken when he glanced at his Rolex.

  “It’s nearly midnight. Take a walk with me out onto the veranda, Nicole.”

  I nodded, despite the fact that his request was a border-line order, allowing him to take my hand as he quietly led me out through the French doors that led to the veranda. We walked down to the end, where it turned and continued on to the side of the building. It was quiet and we were alone.

  Without warning, he pulled me against him, tilting my chin upward with his long fingers, he studied my face in the moonlight. His eyes were extraordinary…dark smoky gray. He lowered his mouth to mine, his full lips working mine into complete obedience; his tongue found mine and I kissed him back with a startling hunger. It unnerved me what he was evoking from me; I didn’t even know this man and, here I was, willing to take anything and everything he was giving.

  His hands lowered to my hips, gently massaging them, before moving to my ass and pulling me to him where, once again, I felt his rock hardness against my abdomen. His hips gyrated slowly, causing me to bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning at the feel of his cock—his very impressive cock, I’d like to add.

  Jesus!

  He backed me up, pressing me into the side wall of the building, his hands now fisting the material of my dress, slowly inching it up my hips, and exposing my black silk thong. I felt his hands on my bare ass now, gripping the bare skin. A moan finally managed to escape my kiss-abused lips, quietly pleading with him.

  “Shhh…” he brushed his thumb across my bottom lip, and my tongue reached out to it. I heard his quick breath, inhaled through his teeth. I felt him lean more into me, taking his other hand and resting it on the wall next to my head. His mouth was next to my ear as he whispered, “I’m going to make you come. Right here. Right now…and you will come, love.”

  I moaned again at the forbidden thought of it. Nodding, I pressed myself harder against his erection. My hands were firmly planted on his shoulders, my fingers digging into them with the pleasure he was providing. I felt his long fingers dip beneath the elastic of my thong, then instantly they were gently teasing the soft, moist folds of my sex. I drew in a sharp breath as his thumb and forefinger rolled my clitoris, squeezing gently, which sent an electric shock wave through my entire body.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, my breathing now coming faster. He thrust a finger up into me, and then another, while he rocked the heel of his hand against my clit. I felt his fingers inside of me, expertly locating my swollen G-spot, and applying pressure against it rhythmically as my hips started gyrating in a circular motion around his hand.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned, my voice husky with pleasure. His lips imprisoned mine, his tongue tracing my lower lip.

  “Your pussy’s so wet, love; wet and ready for me. I’m going to kiss it one day, Nicole.” He told me, his British accent thicker now. “Would you like that?”

  “Yes,” I whined, continuing to roll my hips. “Don’t stop,” I breathed, as his fingers continued fucking me with a slow, deliberate vengeance. The sweet sensation of an orgasm was now unfolding at his fingertips. My body shook with the release. I cried out with pleasure, moving my hips harder against his hand as it unleashed around me. My fingernails were digging into his shoulders, and I bit my lower lip as I kept coming and coming around his sexually menacing fingers until I was totally spent.

  “Oh God,” I rasped. “Jesus Christ.” I slumped against him, catching my breath. My limbs had turned to jelly; my face was flushed with afterglow.

  E.J. pulled his fingers from me, and smoothed my dress back down over my hips. Never taking his eyes off mine, he brought his wet fingers to his mouth, making me watch as he sucked on them. From inside, we could hear the final countdown chant of the partiers to midnight.

  “Five…Four…Three…Two…One! Happy New Year!” From somewhere, fireworks went off in beautiful displays on the beach. E.J. pulled me back against him, and lowered his lips to mine in an almost savage kiss. I finally got with the program, wondering why he had gone from gentle to wild on my lips. They were tender by the time he pulled away.

  “Happy New Year, Nicole,” he said softly. Just then
, we found ourselves illuminated in the dark by headlights from a car pulling up alongside of the building. It was a black, stretch limo. No one got out immediately.

  “That’s for me,” E.J. said nonchalantly, like he was already forgetting what just happened. “I’m headed to the airport now. I’ll see you again, Nicole. Behave yourself and I mean it.”

  “What?” I asked, standing there completely confused by his exit. The chauffeur got out and opened the passenger door for him and I watched as he disappeared inside the car. I stood there in a complete stupor, watching as the limo backed up the drive, and faded quickly into the night.

  What the fuck just happened?

  chapter 7

  ~ Friday, February 13th ~

  Yep, it was Friday the 13th alright. Not one of my favorite things, even though I don’t particularly ascribe to being a superstitious person. Conversely, there had been some very bad things happen in my life on Friday the 13th. Without a doubt.

  Just some of my anti-Friday-the-thirteenth examples:

  1. On Friday the 13th in 1998, my sweet little kitty named “Scamper” got hit by a car and killed.

  2. It was on a Friday the 13th that I first ever got my period.

  3. I lost my virginity on a Friday the 13th to Jamie McWilliams and it was the worst experience of my life!

  4. It was also on a Friday the 13th that they crowned our high school Homecoming Queen and I only made it to first runner-up. And just between you and me, I deserved that crown more than Sheila “Married to my Pom-Poms” Deming!

  So you see why I’m not a big fan of Friday the 13th? Of course, Lindsey had pooh-poohed my objections to her having the rehearsal dinner held on this day.

  “Our wedding’s on the 14th, Valentine’s Day, Darce. The whole point of the rehearsal dinner is to prepare for the wedding the following day,” she pointed out, when we’d had lunch a couple of weeks prior.

  “I know, but couldn’t you have it two days ahead, like on the 12th instead of the 13th?” I’d whined.