by N Kuhn
She paused, looking at her hands. They had taken many lives, but only bad men. Only people who truly were despicable. It had been many years since she sat and reflected on the beginning, how she started this line of work.
“I killed the brother of a cartel leader I was sent to take down. Now, even a year later, there’s contracts out there on my head. I’ve been in hiding. I have a CIA handler. He told me this job seemed fishy, but I took it anyway. I was restless, needed the action.”
“I know.”
His brown eyes darkened, eyeing her suspiciously.
She continued. “My team gave me a brief run down on the roof. They said someone contacted them to take you out and me, if I failed. They didn’t think twice, since I never fail. It was a set up. By who though?”
“The CIA. It has to be. They hired you, and gave me the mission to catch you. Bendez. Ricardo Bendez. He must have offered a price that someone in the CIA couldn’t resist. That means there’s a dirty agent in the company, somewhere high enough up there to get me assigned a mission, and get you the job.”
Calista looked at Gene, truly looked at him, in a way she never had before. The worry lines on his face seemed enhanced. “I’m sorry. I never intended for you to find out who I was,” she said. It was the truth, and he deserved to hear it.
“Me either. I thought it would be a quick cover, in and out, never that it would have lasted a year.” She pulled back, her face twisted up in ire.
“You planned to just leave? Did any of it matter to you? It did to me. It started as a way to get the heat off, when the CIA got close to me. But over the last year, I’ve fallen in love with you.” She shot to her feet, standing in front of him. Hands on her hips, she glared. If only looks could kill. He reached out, taking her hand.
“I think I did too,” his eyes glistened, as if he was going to cry. She almost laughed at the idea of this big strong agent, crying. “It hit me, when you shoved me out of that bullet’s path.” He pulled her closer, leaning his head on her stomach, arms wrapping around her legs. She placed her hands on his head, fingers twisting into his dark hair.
“This sure is a mess,” she whispered.
Gene leaned back on the bed, taking her with him, her body on top of his. She spread her legs, straddling him. Her core heated, pulsating in between her thighs. Her body rocked, moving on its own accord. Gene’s hands gripped her waist.
His cock hardened beneath her. She closed her eyes and allowed her emotions and body to take control. Her fingers crept under the tight, dark shirt. She splayed them out, feeling his entire chest as he moved. The chest hair tickled her skin, her fingertips burning hot, the muscles of his body tight underneath.
His fingers squeezed as they roamed, experiencing her body. He reached under her clothing, shoving her bra aside. Fingers pinched her nipples, creating a coil inside of her. Calista bucked her hips, sliding up and down his groin. With a fierce growl, Gene launched up, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her body tight against him. He tugged, pulling at her shirt, trying to rip it up over her head, her arms going up. Instead of completely removing it, he wrapped the material around her wrists. He quickly twisted, pressing her body into the mattress as he lowered himself on top of her.
“Can you still follow directions, Artemis?” He whispered into her ear as his lips kissed her neck. She moaned, unable to find the words to speak. For some reason, the use of her name now, drove her wild with lust. “Don’t move those arms.”
The urge to touch him, and wrap them around her husband was hard to resist, but she did. His mouth trailed kisses down her neck, over her chest. Teeth clamped down on hardened nubs, and electricity shot through every nerve of her body. Her breathing quickened, heart racing. Gene sat up, shredding his shirt. Quickly he undid the pants he wore, setting his gun next to them on the mattress. Shoving down his boxers, Calista licked her lips at the thick cock that sprung free.
Getting off the bed, he dropped the clothes to the floor, crawling back to onto his knees, leering above her. He pulled at her pants, and she felt herself get wet. His muscled arms flexed as he tugged on the offending material. She lifted her hips, allowing him to pull the pants off her. The groan that escaped his mouth, caused her to dampen even more. The bedroom was the one place they truly knew each other, and she was anxious, needed to feel him inside of her. It was the only thing that would make any sense right now. She moaned, looking at him.
“Please, I need you,” she stammered, almost begging.
Rough hands moved up her body, squeezing on her breasts, then back down, to her waiting pussy. Two fingers slid down the moist slit.
“So wet for me, wife.” His tone was part anger, part sexual. He inserted his digits inside of her. She closed her eyes, almost mewing at the feel. Her walls clamped down, as he wiggled inside of her. “So dripping wet and ready, my little liar.”
She didn’t answer, instead, chose to lose herself in the blissful feeling of her husband touching her. Her mind couldn’t handle the fuck up that was their lives at the moment. His fingers left her, and shivered with pleasure, trying to reach out to him. Her fingers grabbed at his thick shoulder, and he froze. She looked down, seeing his face almost planted between her thighs. Anger flashed in his brown eyes.
“I said don’t move. Now you need to pay the consequences.” He pulled back from her heated core, and she cried out in protest, her arms flying back over her head. Her hips shifted, trying to get back close to his face. Gene shook his head no, pulling back. He grabbed her waist, turning her slightly to the side. With fingers spread wide, he spanked her ass hard, leaving a red welt.
“Have you been a naughty assassin?” His question stopped her breath a moment. The contact sent tingles straight to her core. She cried out, her clit throbbing, aching for more.
“Please, Gene,” she sighed.
“Grayson,” he said. “That’s my real name. Say it. I want to hear you call out the correct name this time.” His tone was demanding.
Her eyes popped open, and she glared at him in anger, which was quickly diffused as his mouth latched onto her clit. He couldn’t look away from her. With hands above her head, she called out for him.
“More, Grayson, I need more.” The name seemed so natural, rolling from her mouth as his tongue danced and twirled across her needy bud. She let go of the betrayal, her sexual desires taking hold.
Hips thrust to meet his mouth, as he pulled back a little. His warm breath caressed the skin on her thighs. Inserting two fingers, he bent them slightly, reaching the special part of her that would be the undoing of her tightly coiled excitement. Combined with the assault of his tongue, she moaned and squirmed, until finally he gave her the relief needed. As if a thread snapped, her orgasm fell upon her, a wave crashing over and over, completely drowning her in desire. Her insides clamped down, holding him between her legs.
Gene, Grayson, whoever the hell this man was, knew how to provide her with the satisfaction her body and mind needed. He moved up her body, crawling to cover her sweat slicked skin with his. He stared down, as she peeled her eyes open. Without thought, she nodded, granting permission to his hardened shaft, poised at her entrance. Taking that as a yes, he thrust deeply into her, filling her very soul with the assurance that everything would be alright. He pinned her bound wrists to the bed as hips thrust in and out. Each stroke burned away a layer of the mixed emotions she held tightly to, as if a shield protecting her from being hurt anymore by this man.
He latched onto her mouth as a fiery passionate kiss between them stole her breath. With every thrust, he brushed her core as it coiled in heat again. As he pressed in deep, hard against her clit, rotating his hips, she lost control. The flames of passion licked their heated skin, her orgasm tearing through her body. Calista cried out as she felt her husband spill his seed inside of her. His cock pulsated inside of her, and they both panted heavily. Her husband lay a sweat soaked forehead on hers, eyes closed.
Finally, she spoke. “Any other lies I shou
ld know about, Grayson?” she spit out sarcastically.
He laughed, rolling to the side, off of her body. Her pussy cried out at the loss of him inside of her, though she wasn't sure she could handle another orgasm. His fingertips traced the line of sweat dripping down her stomach, causing her to shiver.
“Well, I was never a fan of your cooking, but now that I’m aware of who you really are, Artemis,” he cocked an eyebrow at her, “I'm worried as to how you would react. And you’ll have to go back to calling me Gene. Unfortunately, I’m basically in witness protection, or whatever the CIA likes to call it, until I’m safe. So, I’m Gene again, I guess.”
She laughed, moving her stiff arms down from above her head. He quickly removed the shirt that bound her wrists together, pulling her tight against his body, and she curled into the familiar scent of her husband. Her mind ran in circles. Her team didn’t know where she lived, that was good. But what about him? Was someone going to come after them here? She was coming down from the high of adrenaline, quickly crashing. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shake it off, but ended up falling asleep instead.
Chapter 5
Gene stared at his sleeping wife, wrapped in his arms. When had he fallen in love with her? All the anger he felt at her betrayal was gone. They had both lied to each other, both guilty. As he lay there, watching Calista, something caught his attention. With his neck craned, he tried to listen. It was subtle, but there. A slight creak in the wood of the floor downstairs. Reaching across Calista, he picked up the Beretta he had placed there.
She shifted in his arms, smiling as she glanced up. The noise must have alerted her as well. She snaked an arm between their mattress and headboard. Her hand came back with a small Glock. A grin spread across Gene’s face, at the fact that he never knew there was a loaded weapon right there, where they slept together. Then again, she probably didn't know his secret hiding spot was a false wall in their closet.
Footsteps crept closer, up the stairs. The noise still faint, except to a trained ear. The door to their bedroom open, only a faint light from the bedside table glowed in the darkness. Calista lay on her side, still pressed against him, he could feel the heart racing in her chest. It beat a staccato against his. Adrenaline sped through his veins as well.
Through the shadow, a dark figure appeared, slinking into the room. A glint from the metal of their weapon sent Gene into action. He sprung up, squeezing off a round into the intruder’s shoulder. The piece clattered across the floor. Calista sat up, her own gun aimed at the door as well, in case of a second person. Gene moved slowly around the bed, bare skin glistening in the low light. Quickly he pulled on the man, turning him over.
Calista tossed her shirt to him, which he used to bind the man. The intruder bellowed in pain as more legs pounded up the stairs. Gene drug the man towards the closet, leaving him. His wife, in all her naked glory, jumped behind the bed for cover, and he couldn't help but admire her lithe body. Why hadn’t he taken the time to appreciate it more, while they were married? Instead of being bored with his life, he could have enjoyed what he had with Calista.
rushed into the room and neither took the time to pause. Bullets flew before the strangers could catch their bearings. Both men crumpled to the floor, in the doorway. Silence rang through the room, the smell of heat and gunfire tickling his nose. No more movement came from the rest of the house.
Gene stepped over the bound hostage, checking the pulse on the other two men. Both were dead. Gene pulled up their black masks, but didn’t recognize either of them. He looked at Calista, who lifted one eyebrow.
Shaking his head, he bent, picked up the boxers and lobbed her panties to her. They quickly pulled on their under clothes, Calista moving to the closest dresser. She tossed Gene a pair of jeans, then yanked one of his T-shirts over her head.
He took a moment to scan her legs up and down. He had always enjoyed how wonderful they looked bare, or wrapped around his waist, hell, even over his shoulders. Stepping into his jeans, he then yanked the living man up from the ground, tossing him onto the bed. Blood dripped onto the rumpled bedspread, and he moaned in pain. Gene slapped his face, bringing the guy to consciousness.
“Who sent you?” he yelled, shaking the man.
The guy slumped over, mumbling quietly. Either he wasn’t well trained, or was a civilian. Gene brought him back up again, pressing a finger into the wound, causing the guy to cry out.
“Who sent you,” he asked again.
“Ellard. Ellard, please, just, get me help,” the guy whined. He tugged the mask off, and Gene noticed how young the kid was.
“Shit,” he tossed the mask to the ground, standing up to storm around the room in anger. He waved an arm at the boy, “He can’t be far out of the Academy. Seriously, using young men, who have their whole lives ahead of them, to do his dirty work? They aren’t old enough to know any better, except to follow orders.”
“Do you know who that is?” Calista asked.
“Yep, my handler. He’s the one who set us up.” Gene felt confused, angry. How could a man he looked up to, do this?
Calista’s phone dinged, and she pulled it out of the sheath that also held her knife. She dropped the pants back to the floor and checked her messages.
“Seems that Becky found out someone took the contract on you from your cartel leader. A million. At least you’re worth something?” She tried to make light of the situation. Gene felt like steam would pour from his ears.
He snatched up the phone sitting on the night stand next to the bed and dialed a number he knew by heart. “Agent Phantom. Call code X140YS.” Calista watched, as if enthralled by the cloak and dagger act. Gene put the call on speaker, setting the receiver down, as he began to pace the room.
“The call is now secure, Agent Phantom, proceed,” the woman on the other end stated. Her voice was almost automated.
“I need to report Clarence Ellard, my handler. He’s dirty, and se-“
“Agent Phantom, we are already aware of the situation. Agent Justice filled us in when he figured it out. Lie low, and we will handle the situation. Follow black protocol. We will contact you.” The line went dead.
“How will they contact you? If you lay low or go into hiding?” Calista asked.
“It’s the CIA.” He almost laughed. Her innocence in the way the world really worked, was quite baffling. He dialed another number. “I need to end this, or I’ll spend the rest of my life running. And you’ll never be safe,” he said, looking at her.
“You mean we, we’ll never be safe. I’m not sure about you, but I’m pretty sure I have enough to retire.” She winked at him, strutting around the bed, to check on their prisoner.
“Hello?” he heard on the other end. Once again, the call went to speaker phone.
“Ellard, it’s Gene. What’s going on? I failed to grab Artemis. Things got messy. What’s the status?” he asked, trying to not convey that he knew anything.
“Gene?” Clarence sounded shocked to hear from him. “The team said they couldn’t locate you. Are you alright?” he asked, recovering quickly. “Where are you? I’ll come get you personally.”
“Yeah.” Gene looked to Calista. Silently they conveyed their thoughts, Calista nodded as Gene continued looking at her. The man on the bed moaned, and she turned, slapping him to keep quiet. It was a turn on to Gene to see his wife get violent with a man sent to kill them. “I’m, I gotta find my wife. Then we can meet. How about my office? In the city? Two hours?” He heard clicking, as if Ellard was typing on a computer.
“Sounds good Gene, watch your back and I’ll meet you there.”
When they hung up, Gene looked at Calista.
“He’s going to try and trap you, isn’t he?” she asked him.
“Yes, he is. And he thinks he has time.” He pointed to her legs, “You should put something on. We’re going to get there first.”
They quickly dressed, and he grabbed their injured prisoner. Shoving the guy in front of him, Gene moved thr
ough the house, into their connected garage. Calista’s Range Rover was in there, since she’d taken a cab to the train station. He dumped their hostage into the back of the SUV and turned to a wall of tools that most suburban men would envy. He pulled on one of the hooks that held a hammer, and the wall spun.
Calista walked in and gasped. “That’s so fucking awesome,” her eyes widened, as she watched. If that impresses her, she would get a kick out of what’s next, he thought to himself. The other side of the tool board held weapons. But behind it was another false wall that held drawers. He pulled open the top one. It held fake id’s along with a few stacks of large bills.
“My to go bag,” he explained.
Calista hefted the duffle bag she held, into the air. “My to go bag.” They smiled at each other. “Can you imagine, how much more fun our marriage would have been so far, if we had both been upfront?”
“Honestly, I probably would have arrested you back then.”
The smile fell from her face, and he stepped towards her. Setting the ID’s and money on the work table next to him, he grabbed her hand. Gene pulled his wife close and wrapped his arms around her. Kissing her forehead, he looked into her eyes. “Now, I can’t imagine not being with you. You really want to run with me? Together?”
She nodded, eyes glistening. “I’ve been thinking of retiring anyways, maybe having a family.”
“You know, I hear small beach towns are great for raising kids. With our combined knowledge, we could home school and enjoy the easy life.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“I’ve always wanted to live in one of those huts that are in the water, crystal blue ocean, white sand,” she mused.
