NoFoolAnUndercoverMission

by Ann Raina

  Michael twitched when she pulled his sac and bit his lips when she applied more pressure, but still remained silent as she had ordered. His breathing got ragged.

  She shrugged off her doubts and the rest of her clothes to sit between his spread legs. Her gaze traveled up his slender body. His sight alone aroused her. All by themselves, her hands caressed his sides and went up to his chest while her bust and then her stomach touched him.

  He lifted his head to mumble a breathless, “Take me.”

  “Not yet.” Slowly, she retreated to sit on her haunches. Her hands were free to roam his testicles and the small area behind it. With her left hand at the base of his penis, she rubbed the spot in circles with the thumb of her right hand until Matthew threw his head left and right.

  “Please, don’t let me hang like this!”

  She went on, relishing how hard he tried to climb the ladder of arousal while she denied the next step. He pulled the laces with all strength. When she took away her hands, he whined. His chest heaved. The muscles along his rump contracted that his abs looked like a washboard, something Patricia had only seen in advertisements. She put her hands on his skin, ignoring his pleas, too far gone to think about more than her own desire.

  Then she straddled him, unable to hold herself back any longer. When he entered her, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips tight. This was just as she had imagined it to be. Resting her hands on his abs, she lifted her butt just far enough to let him know she could move away, only to go down again, dictating speed and rhythm. Matthew’s face contorted with need. He didn’t push up, knowing she would not want his participation. He couldn’t see her and with his hands bound, he had to do what his master wanted. Patricia loved to hold him in the palm of her hand.

  She prolonged his coming on purpose, challenging him to beg when she stopped. But only his loud intake of air filled the room.

  * * * *

  There was that strange feeling that she stood aside from herself, watching her doings, watching what she did to that innocent young man. It was the voice of reason, questioning her if she did to him what she wanted to do to other men she couldn’t get in her clutches.

  She told the voice to shut the fuck up.

  Matthew bowed his back, driven to a point he wanted release more than anything else, ignoring the building pain in his ribs. It only added to his arousal. Patricia took up the rhythm again, faster now, satisfying her own desire as much as his while she freed her mind of guilt. It was her night. She had all the right in the world to get what she wanted.

  She felt his orgasm built, the short bursts, the contraction of muscle then he came into her, strong and fast. His hands tore at the bonds, using up all strength left to him. He lifted his head as if to try and get closer to her. Patricia enjoyed his hotness, that juvenile stride that sped her climax.

  She was young again for the blink of an eye.

  * * * *

  The third scotch left her lightheaded, but jealousy was a bad treat and could not be cured with alcohol. Lady Summerston watched Patricia make love to Matthew, then angrily switched to Jason and his date, a lady from Chicago, who started out gentle but was getting rougher by the minute. Jason, blindfolded and bound that it looked as if it must hurt, didn’t see her beastly expression and Lady Summerston bet that no one else had ever seen the woman like that. If she hadn’t known Jason to love such handling, she would have sent the guards in just to make sure he wasn’t maimed.

  She switched off the computer, still angry at herself, still jealous. The hard drive and ventilator hummed while she staggered to the door, deep in thoughts about what she could do.

  Chapter 17

  “Matthew! Matthew!” Alyssa flew in his arms and hugged him tight, burying her face at his shoulder. “Oh, Matt, I missed you so much. So much, I can’t tell you.” She kissed him feverishly, tousled his hair and pressed her body against his. “Can’t tell you.”

  He closed the thin wooden door and stood with her in the semi-darkness of the shed. It was warm in here and with her body heat he started sweating. Not to mention that if George Summerston or the lady herself saw them together, they would both get kicked out. Fear was like butterflies roaming his stomach. “I missed you, too, Al. Thanks for your call.”

  She sighed and looked up, fear clearly on her lovely features. “Yesterday’s been awful. First Kamal and then—” She broke off and shook her head as if the recall of events made it worse.

  “Tell me.” Michael caressed the back of her head as they slowly made their way to the back of the tool shed. “What happened, my love?”

  “My love?” Her smiled was weak and her eyes filled with tears. “You never called me so before.”

  He kissed her, holding her tight. “I never knew I could miss someone so much.”

  “Oh, dear…” She sobbed. “Guess, that’s the nicest thing a girl hears in her lifetime.” She pulled herself together. They sat on a stack of old covers and rugs nobody needed anymore. Michael rubbed her arm as he pulled her close. “I told George about the attack.”

  “The truth?”

  “Most of it. Then Kamal came in.” She looked up, shaking her head, for a moment unable to find words. He coaxed her with soft touches and a kiss lightly on her lips.

  “You can rely on me, Al, I’ll help you if I can.”

  “I know. Kamal was mean. I…I knew I shouldn’t tell him that I’d been with you, but he insisted. And George didn’t protect me. Or you. He gave him your name. Now he knows and I don’t know if he’ll come up to question you.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. She shook her head over and over. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Who is this Kamal?”

  “You don’t want to know.” She took his face in both hands and kissed him as if to drink him down. “Please, no more talking,” she said breathlessly as she fumbled with his belt. “I want you so much, Matt, please…”

  “No, no, Alyssa, please, no!” He held her hands and forced her to look at him. “It’s too risky.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do. You can’t afford to be pushed out and I don’t want to lose my job, either.” He waited for her to sit back and take her hands off him. “You need protection, Al, and that’s what you get in here.”

  “I’m not so sure of that.” She slumped on the rugs beside him. Her face twitched.

  He took her hands in his and rubbed them. “Tell me about Kamal. What’s his job here?”

  * * * *

  Alyssa hesitated, head bent, shoulders hunched, insecure of how to handle this awful situation. But then, she had wished for Matt to be her constant. Her guardian. And she wanted in his pants, no matter the circumstances. She craved for his body like she had never craved for anyone before. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time. She didn’t know if he’d be with her in a week or just tomorrow. With a deep intake of breath, she made up her mind. “He’s got no job here on the farm. Not that I know of anyway. He came with some men months ago. Maybe it’s already a year, I can’t tell. He didn’t show up back then. George and he made a kind of contract. That’s what I figured from the few hints George made, but I don’t know what it’s about. I never asked. I only know that we’ve got more foreigners on the farm since then. And—” She hesitated.

  Again, Michael made the softest approach by holding her and kissing her, hoping she understood.

  She lowered her chin and while she wrung her hands on her lap, sat pondering how much she should tell him. “You know the vinery downstairs?”

  “Yes, sure. I was a handyman, don’t forget.”

  “Yeah.” She wet her lips and fingered for a handkerchief. He gave her one and she rewarded him with a tiny smile. “Thank you. See, I don’t know what it was all about in the first place, but those people, those foreigners, they don’t just come here to work as maidens or such. They get some training. In the basement.”

  “Do you know what kind of training?”

  She shook her head and blew her nose.
“No. I caught some phrases here and there. Something about ammunition, explosives. Shipping. Things which had nothing to do with selling wine or running the farm. Mostly, they speak Arabic so I wouldn’t catch a thing when I was around. And I really didn’t want to know. Not with Kamal at my back.” She pulled her nose up. “Matt, I don’t know what they do down there and I never asked. I didn’t dare.”

  * * * *

  “And you? What’s your task in all of this?” Her face was suddenly guarded and Michael regretted to have asked.

  “I do what I told you. Work for George and keep the books.”

  “And you write the programs Kamal needs, right?”

  She took a deep breath and shrugged, everything but indifferent. She shook like a leaf and Michael realized how hard Kamal must have worked on her to shatter her defenses.

  “What choice did I have, Matt? He asked and I wrote it. When the first program worked he came back with more demands.”

  “Communication programs? Ways of contact that go unnoticed?”

  “Some of them, yes.” She scrutinized his face, deep frown lines on her brow. “You know so much about it. Tell me who you are. Please,” she added when he tried to contradict, “I know you’re not just some handyman turned lover. You’re by far too clever for that.”

  “There are no clever handymen in this world?” His attempt at humor failed. Alyssa’s worry grew. “You know, I can help you if you help me. You want to get rid of Kamal and the threat he represents. I want Kamal behind bars.”

  “So you’re police?”

  Michael made a brief assessment of the situation. He had to decide if she was trustworthy enough to know the truth and came up with saying no. If Kamal pressed her, she would give him away. Not by intention, but by fear. “I work for an organization that’s after Kamal and felons like him.”

  She stared at him, slowly emerging from his embrace, gathering her thoughts. Anxiety and sadness grew on her face as she recalled the dates with him and his behavior. “This was all an act, right? All of it.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  * * * *

  Alyssa kept eye contact as if her life depended on looking for clarity and truth in his features. She felt her life’s purpose slip away and there was nothing she could do. “You lied to me. You lied to me all the time!”

  “I didn’t tell you my occupation, that’s right. I didn’t mess with your feelings.”

  She smirked. “How in the fucking world should I believe this?”

  “Because a woman knows.”

  “Bullshit! There’re more liars around than honest men.” Her hot anger was gone like switched off and only sadness prevailed. She plucked the handkerchief to little pieces, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be messed with, Matthew. I told you. And you lied. Why?”

  “I’m not allowed to tell you, Al, and I violate the rules if I do. I need to know all you can tell me about Kamal and the people he brought in.”

  “You chose me to get you inside, right?”

  “Remember, it was you who chose me in the first place. And, no, Alyssa,” he added, seeing tears shining in her eyes, “I don’t play with your feelings. Believe me. Please. I want you safe.”

  “But not in your life.” The handkerchief was a pile of paper flakes in her hands. She stared at it as if the pattern told her anything interesting. After a brief nod, meaning everything from she understood to she didn’t care, she went on. “Some men and women just come here to work until they get a green card and then they leave. Others are here a longer time. Kamal takes them somewhere outdoors on the premises and then into the basement. I’ve never seen the rooms. I’m not allowed to.”

  “So if he wants you to program for him you do it in the office?”

  “Not in the first one. There’s another behind the door.”

  He felt himself straighten. His heart beat accelerated. “How do you get there?”

  “It’s a secret door. You need a swipe card for the door to open.”

  “You’ll have to take me there.”

  She almost jumped. Her eyes were wide with raw fear. “Matt, I can’t! Kamal will kill me! And you!”

  “Let me worry about that. There’s a time when no one’s at the office, right?”

  “They’re not predictable, Matt, please, that’s too dangerous!”

  Michael thought about the weeks he had spent here, sleeping with women, being company for them and listener to their stories. Now that he was close to solving the case, he longed this charade to be over. “I need to know who’s behind this whole operation. I don’t think it’s Kamal.”

  “You might be right.” She frowned again. “Sometimes he looks worried. As if it’s not running as it was planned.”

  “What is the plan? What do you know about it?”

  “I only know that some people get trained on weapons of some kind.”

  Michael nodded. He had seen their shooting range.

  “Others learn English for when they start working they don’t know much.” She shrugged. “I never considered this important, but it seems odd that they don’t send these people to schools first.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  “Only once I heard about explosives and I was shocked. Please,” she added, looking up, “don’t say that I should’ve called the police. I…I didn’t dare.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll take care of them.”

  Her smile about his ego and self-confidence quickly faded. “Those programs—they’re all about connecting the ones who left with those here or elsewhere. Basically, I wrote a program to leapfrog the usual control systems which the FBI uses to filter critical data, such as keywords terrorists might use in emails.” She blushed. “I promise, at that time I didn’t know what George or Kamal wanted! I took the money and didn’t ask. I just thought about what I could do with it.” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she bit her lips. “Matt, I didn’t know! I’ve been poor for such a long time, it was…too tempting to say no. And if I had refused, George would’ve fired me for sure.”

  In the silence of her crying, Michael wondered if he believed her. He had come to know people who—more often than not—were geniuses in their field, but couldn’t live in the real world. They functioned, but never understood what was normal to do for ninety percent of the population. Simple things like changing a bulb escaped their comprehension while they worked miracles as scientists or doctors. He had to decide if Alyssa was one of them and actually unable to identify a bad guy or if she had worked for him on the true beliefs of his religion or cause. “Help me to get access to the secret office, Al. After that, I’ll take you away from here.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  * * * *

  The stairway to the vinery had been recently cleaned. Here and there some wet spots shone in the torchlight. Lady Summerston used the handrail to find her way down, thinking how stupid it would be to stumble and break a leg short to finding disclosure.

  A man to her left approached her. “May I help you, ma’am?”

  She read the name on the tag—Joshua—and smiled thinly. He didn’t know her, had never seen her face and took her to be a customer. What a stupid joke! There had been times when she had selected every man and woman personally. She felt old and disconnected so she straightened her shoulders and looked Joshua straight in the eyes.

  “No, thank you, young man, I’m able to help myself. Most of the time.” The twitch of her brows gave the last remark a wicked connotation and Joshua did what she expected. He retreated.

  “Very well, ma’am.”

  “Yes, it is all very well.” She approached the office and entered, disregarding Joshua’s sudden shout that she wasn’t allowed here. She closed the door firmly. It had been a long time since she had visited the basement of her home. She recalled checking all of the construction personally while it had been in the making, but after the day the workers had left, she had regarded the rooms as George’s abode. The office was large enough for
three people to work in, the furniture businesslike. Alyssa sat to her left, busily typing numbers she read on a sheet of paper. “So this is where you work.”

  Alyssa jumped and swiveled around, eyes wide with shock. “Lady Summerston.”

  “You recognize me. I’m surprised since you prefer to get out of my way as often as possible.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d come here. Mr. Summerston’s not in at the moment, but I can call him for you.” With trembling hands, she turned to the telephone.

  “No, thank you. I’m quite aware he’s not in.” She pointed toward the empty chair. “But it doesn’t matter.” She scrutinized the young woman in her cream-colored canvas pants with lots of pockets, white leather sneakers and a red T-Shirt with a Nike swosh on it. “Since you’re such a special employee, I thought it about high time that I came to speak with you.”

  “Oh.” Alyssa saved what she had typed and turned to find Lady Summerston standing right behind her.

  “Show me what you do.”

  * * * *

  Alyssa swallowed. The day was getting worse by the minute. As if she had not enough to worry about her well-being! “I keep the books.” She opened the Excel file with the wine and customer lists. “When an order comes in, I see to the shipping and handling and take down notes about the customer. And I see to the performance on the Internet.” She opened the Explorer and typed the URL. “See?”

  “That’s all you do?”

  Alyssa ignored the scorn in her question. “I also do paperwork which varies from day to day. Wines that are delivered, shipments come in etcetera.” She looked up, smiling amiably and hoping the old dragon would leave sooner than later.

  * * * *

  Lady Summerston’s eyes narrowed. She thought she could smell Matt’s aftershave on her skin and the rage and envy she had thought subdued, flared anew. “I don’t believe this crap! You either reveal the true nature of your business with my brother-in-law or you’ll find your ass on the street in half an hour!”