Two Evils

by Christina Moore

  “Hmm, now this feels familiar,” he teased, grinning down at her.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she shot back.

  Billie then surprised the hell out of him by grabbing his shirt in both hands, pulling him down so their faces were inches apart and lifting her head so she could stick her tongue out to lick his lips. For a moment he was so stunned that he failed to react in time to her swinging her leg up and around the side of his neck, hooking her ankle there and throwing him sideways. He tried to hold onto her as he fell but she scissor kicked him with the leg and rolled in the opposite direction, rising quickly to her feet.

  John leapt to his feet as she was charging a second time. He twisted out of the way and planted his foot in her backside, giving her a hard shove. She hit the ropes opposite and pushed off of them, turning sharply to face him.

  “What is it with you and my ass all of a sudden? First you smack it, then you kick it—”

  “The next thing I’ll do is pull those pants down and lick it,” he taunted back, rhyming his words with hers.

  “Oh, John, don’t you know? When a girl’s pants are down, that’s not where his tongue goes.”

  Lust, hot and wild, rushed to his groin. “A woman’s has better uses than licking lips.”

  “You know what they say, Johnny B. Goode—loose lips sink ships.”

  Suddenly the sexual banter was over as quick as it had begun, and they were back to fighting. John didn’t really want to hurt Billie and suspected she didn’t really want to hurt him either—she was just testing him, seeing what he was capable of. But because her attacks were still pretty vicious in spite of her bout with the punching bag, he gave as good as he got.

  The crowd in the gym were egging them on, and there were numerous shouts of “Hit him harder!” from Billie’s cheerleaders and at least one “Smack that sweet ass again!” from John’s. Truthfully, in spite of the pain she was inflicting, he was enjoying himself. Billie had definitely earned her reputation, and given her tenacity even in this simple sparring match, there was little doubt in his mind that if she were fighting for her life she would win.

  They were in another hold again; this time, John had her in a headlock. As she forced her way out of it her footing seemed to go in the opposite direction than the one she wanted them to, and their legs became entangled. As they each tried to reverse the situation they both stepped wrong, causing them to fall to the mat yet again. Their position upon landing—Billie flat on her stomach and John on top of her—elicited loud whistles and catcalls from the peanut gallery.

  Both of them were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. For a moment, just wanting to settle his racing heart, John rested his forehead against her temple.

  “Had enough of me…kicking your ass yet…Spy Boy?” Billie stuttered.

  He chuckled. “I think mine was the foot planted in ass, sweetheart,” he replied.

  “And right now there’s something else sticking into it,” she pointed out.

  Oh, he was well aware of where and how he was situated on top of her. With just a slight rocking motion he pressed his pelvis down, digging himself into her more. Billie hissed sharply, and John turned his head so that his lips were but a breath above her ear. “Not quite yet,” he said huskily. “But that can be arranged.”

  He felt her tremble beneath him. “I don’t like having an audience,” she said softly.

  “Then let’s go where we won’t have one.”

  

  He took her to his apartment, a mere three blocks from the gym.

  After getting up from the mat, they had silently climbed down and walked into the locker rooms. Billie tried not to think as she changed out of the borrowed clothes and back into her own, leaving the key to the locker in the door with the chain hanging down as she had found it. She didn’t want logic to get a hold of her right now—she was feeling way too damn good.

  And if she were honest with herself, both excited and nervous about what might happen when they left.

  She had to admit that John was attractive—certainly not the first attractive man she had encountered in the last year, but he was the first one to really turn her head. The first man to make her heartbeat increase, the first to make her wonder what it would be like to go to bed with him. Ever since that damn kiss, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had wondered. On both flights home she had fantasized about him. Last night, back in her old bed at her father’s house, she had dreamed about him. Each time he had made love to her like no one else, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, so very close to those crashing waves of climax that would shake her body to its core.

  Unfortunately, each and every time she had been woken before that could happen. But soon, if she really wanted it to, it would become reality.

  Billie realized that she did want it to. Even now, as they were walking wordlessly out of the gym and around the building to his car, every nerve ending in her body was alive with an energy she hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was a heady sensation that had her feeling a little lightheaded, but very pleasantly so. The anticipation made her more and more anxious, especially in the confines of the Charger.

  He drove them into a parking garage for a building that was seven stories high. The garage was all one level, located underneath the structure. Once out of the car he led her over to an elevator, and she was little surprised to see him press the button for the top floor.

  Within minutes they were standing in front of apartment 705 and John was inserting a key into the deadbolt. He turned it quickly and pushed the door open wide enough that she could walk past him and enter first. Billie stepped across the threshold, her eyes sweeping the living room and seeing a huge flat-screen television, theater system, and leather furniture. It was very much a single man’s dwelling.

  Then she heard the door click shut, heard the snick of the deadbolt as John slid it back into place. Then he stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. They felt warm even through the leather of her jacket.

  “If you don’t want to do this, tell me now,” he said, his voice low and thick with want. “I will not… I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

  Slowly she turned to face him. In his eyes she could see how very much he wanted her, how desperately he was hoping she wouldn’t back out. She also saw that if she did, he would accept her decision. That was why she answered by reaching for his head and bringing it down to hers so that she could kiss him. John’s hands found her hips and pulled her against his groin, already hard and ready for her, as their mouths opened in unison and their tongues danced together.

  She moved her hands from his face and slipped them under the sport coat he wore, pushing it off his shoulders. He let her go long enough to shrug it off and loosen his tie, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head. Billie reached for the buttons of his shirt to undo them, but kept fumbling in her efforts to get them through the tiny holes. Frustrated, she grabbed the edges and simply jerked them apart, sending little white buttons flying everywhere. John chuckled as he removed the shirt and then captured her mouth again, using his own hands to push her jacket down her arms. When she was free of it he tossed it blindly toward the couch.

  Billie unsnapped her weapon harness from her belt and let it fall to the floor, then reached for the hem of her shirt to draw it over her head. John captured her hands as she was pulling it over her head, her mouth exposed but her eyes still covered, and held them still. He kissed her lazily, deeply, trailing his hot, moist lips along her jaw. He captured her earlobe in his teeth and gave it a little nibble; Billie moaned as liquid spilled from her, soaking her panties. She could feel her clitoris throbbing, aching for him to touch her more intimately. As if knowing what she wanted, he ground himself against her and she moaned again.

  His mouth moved to her shoulder, and he kissed and licked along her collar bone toward her throat. Billie could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against the simple cotton o
f her bra in a bid for his attention. John complied by reaching around her back and unhooking the undergarment. He freed her hands so he could pull it off of her, allowing her to finally discard her shirt as well. For a moment he stood staring at her breasts, eyeing them as though he had just unveiled a great treasure—and then he bent and took her left nipple into his mouth.

  A cry of pleasure escaped her and she gripped his shoulders tightly as he laved the nipple, swirling his tongue around it and nibbling the sensitive nub between his teeth. Her breaths came in shallow gasps and her hips began rocking into him. Her skin felt like it was burning, the fire in her blood raging with her need. John stoked it higher still as he switched from her left breast to her right, his hands reaching down to undo her belt and the snap of her jeans. Billie reached for his belt and undid the clasp, pulling it through the loops and causing his gun to fall to the floor. She ignored it, dropping his belt and reaching for the hook of his trousers, undoing the clasp and reaching inside to stroke his erection.

  Suddenly he stilled and stood straight. “Let me get a condom from the bathroom.”

  She put a finger to his lips. “There’s no need. I got an intra-uterine contraceptive three years ago. Seemed the right thing to do given the nature of my work. It’s good for another two years, so you’ve nothing to worry about.”

  John grinned wickedly, and the next thing she knew he was shoving her pants and underwear down her hips. Her jeans fell easily to the floor but her panties caught around her knees, and in a mildly savage manner he grabbed a hold of the sides and yanked hard, tearing the cotton irreparably and allowing the cloth to join her jeans down at her feet. He then grabbed her waist and lifted her free of the denim, spinning around and knocking her back into the door, his mouth fusing with hers again as he pulled his hardened length free of the confines of his boxers. Billie shoved his pants past his hips as he grabbed her by the ass and lifted her again, then with one hard thrust he was inside her.

  She cried out loudly into his mouth, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and hooking her legs around his waist. The door to his apartment and the wall on which it was hung shook with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning hard and fast against her. Billie dug the nails of one hand into his back, and with the other grabbed hold of as much of his short hair as she could. John released her mouth and turned his head, lowering it to the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder. His lips touched down and he sucked her skin between his teeth.

  Tightness she hadn’t known she could still feel began to coil in her belly, her breathing becoming little more than sharp panting. Each time he pulled out and slammed back into her, Billie could feel it growing, getting stronger. She pulled on his hair, dug her nails in deeper, and John growled in response. The pace of his thrusts increased, becoming more frenzied, and she knew his climax wouldn’t be long in coming.

  “Harder, John,” she begged breathlessly into his ear, and he readily complied, lifting his head to lock lips with her once more. He thrust his tongue as deep into her mouth as he could get it, and as though it were a trigger, Billie found she could no longer hold herself together. The first wave of her orgasm slammed into her like an ocean tide crashing against a cliff, and she banged her head back against the door as she screamed her pleasure.

  The grinding of her hips against his as she rode him finally sent John over the edge as well, and he groaned through gritted teeth as he emptied into her. She felt herself tightening around him, pulling him deeper, and amazingly she came again.

  NINE

  Andre picked up the ringing cell phone with dread. He knew who it was. He knew that the caller would be angry, knew that he had failed—again—and that his days were likely numbered in the single digits.

  Swallowing heavily, he clicked the Answer key. “Da?”

  “Do you have a brain? If so, do you know how to use it?” Grigori asked.

  “I do, Dedushka,” he replied carefully.

  His grandfather laughed harshly. “Well, I have seen no evidence of this. Are you even aware that the woman has left the island? That she is in Virginia at this very moment?”

  Anger at having been none the wiser rushed through his veins, and Andre turned and kicked the tire of the SUV. “No, I did not,” he said. “I am sorry to have failed you, Dedushka—”

  “You should be, you ignorant bastard!” Grigori screamed. “Can nothing be accomplished without me? Must I do everything myself? Apparently there is no one else to carry out a simple task of killing someone.”

  “I will kill her for you, I swear it!” Andre said, feeling suddenly desperate. Whenever his grandfather spoke of having to do things himself, very bad things happened and people died.

  He didn’t want to be one of those people.

  “You had better,” Grigori said darkly. “I will not tolerate continued incompetence, Andre. Fail me again, and you will join your uncle in the afterlife.”

  Next thing he knew, he was hearing nothing. Disgusted, Andre shoved his cell phone into his pocket, then he turned and kicked the tire again. The pain in his foot was a welcome diversion from the fear that his life might soon be forfeit.

  “What did the boss say, Andre?” Mikhail asked around the cigarette in his mouth.

  Andre snatched it from his lips as he grabbed the other man’s chin in his hand. He turned the cigarette around and held the burning end to Mikhail’s cheek, pressing until the fire had been ground out. His subordinate growled in pain and tried to move away.

  The others, wisely, stood back and did not interfere.

  “What do you think he said, hmm?” Andre asked, his voice cold as he continued to hold Mikhail’s jaw in a vise grip. “My grandfather is displeased with our lack of success. He has informed me that the suka has already left St. Thomas and is in the United States as we speak. He has said that we will join my late uncle in hell if we continue to fail him.”

  Technically, he’d only made that reference about Andre. But the others didn’t need to know that.

  “Where is she?” asked Anton. “I’ll make the arrangements right away, Boss.”

  Andre looked at his friend. He liked that Anton called him Boss, because it was recognition of his authority. Now if the rest of his team would stop making him look like an inept moron… One day, he would take over the family. Then all the power would be his.

  “Virginia,” he said to Anton, pushing Mikhail away from him in disgust and ignoring the man’s whimper of pain at the burn on his cheek. “She’s in Virginia.”

  

  After taking her against the front door (of all places for their first time!), John carried Billie into the bedroom. There he laid her on his bed, taking his time removing her shoes and socks, and then doing a lazy removal of his pants and underwear while she watched. After removing his own footwear, he joined her on the bed, kissing his way up her navel to the valley between her breasts. He massaged them both gently in his hands before meeting her lips with his.

  A sight out of the corner of his eye gave him pause, and he broke the kiss as a frown fell over his face.

  “What is it?” Billie asked, a note of concern and hesitancy creeping into her voice.

  John lifted a hand to gently caress a spot on her left shoulder, at the curve where it merged smoothly with her neck. While all her skin was flushed from their lovemaking, this one small area was a darker shade of pink than the rest. Suddenly he smiled, then leaned down to kiss it softly.

  “I’m afraid I’ve left a mark on you,” he said.

  Her features relaxed and Billie smiled. “Then allow me to return the favor.”

  She took his head in her hands as she had done before, bringing their mouths together. This time when they made love, he took her slow and easy, giving the passion more time to build. His touch, his tongue, and his lips were tender on her skin, drawing more sighs than screams.

  After they were both sated again, mutual exhaustion claimed them and they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. When he woke sometime
later, John glanced at the clock and saw that he’d slept for three hours—a solid three hours he hadn’t had since before the trip to St. Thomas.

  In the instant he realized he was alone in the bed, he also heard the shower running. Wouldn’t it be nice to join her there for a little more of the fun they’d had this morning? With a grin on his face, he rolled over and dropped his legs off the side of the bed, disappointment shooting through him as right then the shower shut off. He sat still and waited for Billie to return to the bedroom but she didn’t, even though he had heard the bathroom door open. He reached for the pants he’d discarded earlier and pulled them on, then padded out of the bedroom to see what she was doing.

  He found her in the living room, her wet hair falling over her shoulders as she pulled on her socks and shoes.

  “If you want a shower before we go, hurry up,” she said, the business-like tone of her voice surprising him. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

  John frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  “It means exactly what I said, Agent Courtney. All the time we spent here would have been better served starting the search for my team,” she replied without looking at him.

  No, he thought. This can’t be happening. John felt pressure settle in his chest and he forced himself to breathe past it. What had he done to upset her? He thought she’d enjoyed herself—Christ, she’d had three orgasms! Was that not enough? Had she expected something more?

  “Billie, what’s going on?” he asked. “Just a few hours ago you were all for coming here, for me to make love to you—”

  She stood sharply, gathering up her weapon harness and shrugging it on. “We fucked, Agent Courtney. A sadly necessary action required to clear the air of undesirable sexual tension.”

  Finally she looked at him, and his heart squeezed with the cold, blank look in her eyes.

  “Don’t make it more than it was,” she said, her voice equally as cold.