The Red Files

by Lee Winter

  Lauren took two steps forward but froze when Gabbana squeezed Ayers hard enough for her to cry out.

  “Uh uh,” he warned Lauren. “I wouldn’t move an inch.” His hand was pressed around her neck, his fingers and thumb squeezed the pressure points under her ears and caused her face to redden and eyes to water.

  Ayers stared unwaveringly back at Lauren, eyes defiant.

  “I’ve been patient,” he said conversationally. “Now, tell me where it is or your dear friend suffers the consequences.”

  Lauren gave a cold laugh. “You talk about hurting one of the most famous journalists of the past decade? You think no one will care? You’re a fool.” She grabbed some of the photos from the top of Ayers’s desk and thrust them at him. “She’s dined with presidents.” She threw a photo at his feet. “World leaders. Bill fucking Gates.” She tossed more photos. “You think none of these people will care what happened to her?”

  He smirked as she held up the last photo. “Some old bat?” he retorted. “I’m terrified.”

  “You fucking should be,” she said, smashing it viciously into his face. “And that’s Helen Thomas to you, you prick.”

  “Bitch!” he bellowed, letting go of his hostage and clutching at his face.

  A long glass shard was embedded in his cheek, protruding up toward his eye. Blood gushed from the wound, and he howled in pain.

  Ayers had dropped to her knees, gasping for air, and seemed to be reaching for something behind the door.

  “Bitch,” he repeated with menace, blood bubbling from his nose and seeping out of his eye socket. He fumbled for his pocket.

  “And you’re a stupid asshole,” Lauren said and kicked him between the legs. She felt immense satisfaction when he doubled over clutching his groin.

  A siren sounded in the distance. He began to reach for his pocket again, hand trembling this time.

  “Last chance,” he said, voice slurring as his blood loss increased. “Where’s the laptop. Or you’re both in a fucking world of trouble.”

  “Says the man bleeding all over the floor,” Lauren said, watching him slump lower. She crouched down and mocked him. “What’re you going to do?”

  “You’re insane if you print that story. There are many powerful people who will fight you. You’ll be called a traitor. You’ll be hounded. Your friends. Your families.” He coughed and bloodied saliva bubbled out of his mouth.

  Lauren studied him. “That’s your opinion. But don’t you know the first rule of journalism? The story always comes first.”

  The siren was loud now, and Lauren watched as his breathing grew more ragged.

  “This?” He spat at her. “This story’s nothing. It’s hardly worth the nightmare headed your way.”

  His head dropped to his chest. The hand in his pocket and twitched and Lauren watched in slow motion as he began to pull something out.

  Her mind screamed gun, and her head began to move reflexively to one side as she tried to scrabble out of the way. Time slowed. She slid her eyes fearfully over to Ayers. Only to find she was not where she had been. She saw metal flash out of Gabbana’s pocket.

  There was a whoosh of air, a sickening thunk, and a clatter. Her eyes widened in shock. A hammering noise pounded in her ears, and she realized it was her own racing heart.

  Gabbana was sprawled out in an unconscious tangle. Two feet away lay a bloodied lump of metal. She saw Ayers drop beside her, kneeling, moving her lips. It took a few attempts for her brain to catch up to what she was saying.

  “Are you okay? Lauren?”

  She nodded. “Are you?” she asked, checking Ayers’s arms and face. No blood. Okay.

  “No, no blood,” Ayers gave her a strange soft smile.

  “Oh, I said that out loud.”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  Ayers pointed to a wrought-iron book end. “I may not pitch as well as you, but it’s twice as effective when they never see it coming.”

  Thundering footsteps entered the room, and Lauren jumped. Fingers rubbed her arm, and she heard Ayers’s soothing words near her ears. “It’s my security team. When he was bleeding out on the floor, monologuing about our sad futures, I was able to reach the panic alarm.”

  Lauren looked around at the mess. “Oh shit! I smashed your photo of Helen Thomas. He’s wearing half the glass in his face.”

  “I actually think Helen would have approved. And by the way, that man may be many things but there’s no way he’s from DC. Everyone in DC would have recognized her in the photo. She was such an institution.”

  “Huh.” Lauren stared up at concerned eyes regarding her. “Who was he then?”

  “No idea. We may never know.”

  The security guards moved the man out of the office and dragged him out of the house.

  “Catherine?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Did you just attack an armed man about to kill me?”

  Ayers rolled her eyes. “It sounds so heroic when you say it like that.”

  “You saved my life. You don’t get to pretend it’s nothing.”

  “Says the woman who took on two brutes in Olencha and didn’t even mention it. But if it makes you feel better, he wasn’t armed. He was reaching for his cell phone.”

  “Did you know that at the time?” Lauren asked.

  Ayers said nothing.

  “That’s what I thought.” Lauren smiled. “Damn, you are a hero.”

  A man wearing a security uniform strode back in. “We have him in custody, ma’am. We’re sorry he got as far as he did. He cut the feed on the video and bypassed a number of sensors. We’ll have more information when he wakes up. A doctor’s treating him now. He seems to have a bad facial injury.” The man shot an approving glance at Lauren.

  “I think he has a partner somewhere,” Lauren said, remembering the shadow in the garden.

  “We already found him. He incapacitated a few of my men on patrol. They’re only unconscious. We’re waiting to hand both intruders over to the police. There’ll be a full report in the morning. And I have a cleaning crew lined up for eight tomorrow to sort out the, ah, situation.” He pointed to the bloodied mess on the floor.

  “Thanks,” Ayers said. “Sorry for your men’s injuries.”

  “They’ll recover. We can leave men on your gate tonight, if you’d like.”

  “I would.”

  “Ma’am.” He nodded and left.

  “Can we be anywhere but here now?” Lauren asked and scooped up Ayers’s notes and her bag.

  “Good plan,” Ayers agreed and led her from the room.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about your ex. Finding out she was definitely playing you the whole time,” Lauren said softly.

  Ayers’s jaw hardened. “I think I’ll have to process that later. He may have been lying just to get a reaction. And right now, I don’t want to think about that.”

  She opened a door at the end of the hallway.

  Lauren looked around and saw a large master suite. There was a queen-sized bed in the middle of a room that was luxurious and clearly well lived in. The walls were cream and the artwork tasteful.

  Lauren’s eyebrows lifted. Ayers’s bedroom?

  Suddenly Ayers realized where they were—she’d obviously headed there by rote.

  “I didn’t, ah…” She stopped and bit her lip, her cheeks growing pink.

  Lauren observed her hesitation, the slight fidgeting, her high color.

  “We can if you want,” she said, suggestively brushing her fingertips down Ayers’s arm. “Just now I thought that was going to be my last moment on earth. That kind of puts things into perspective.”

  Her gaze drifted to Ayers’s lips. The other woman tensed and shook her head. “It’d only end in tears,” she said. “I’m leaving LA soon.”

  Lauren considered her uneven breathing. She took a step forward. “I know that,” she said. “But we’re alive. And that’s worth celebrating.”

  Ayers’s chest rose and fell, h
er expression pinched. After a moment, she whispered, “Please go.”

  Ayer’s jaw tensed, and Lauren stepped back. “Okay.” She gave a wan chuckle. “Besides I need a shower anyway. Gotta wash five levels of terror off me.”

  Ayers didn’t reply, or even move.

  Lauren took the hint and left.

  * * *

  Thank-god-I’m-alive showers were amazing, Lauren thought, sighing blissfully. Steam had fogged the glass walls, and she was blasting her body with a heat much higher than she normally liked.

  She heard a faint knock, and before she could answer, the en suite door slapped open. Lauren spun around in shock to see a hazy, faceless shape in front of the fogged-up cubicle. She wiped a circle of steam from the glass and peered out, heart in her throat.

  Ayers’s gray, stormy eyes stared back.

  Lauren watched, fixed to the spot, as the shower door opened and Ayers stepped in, still clothed in the white button-down shirt and dark cotton pants she’d worn that evening.

  “You’re still dressed,” Lauren said in shock.

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Ayers whispered and leaned forward. Her eyes glinted. “We’re alive.”

  She took Lauren’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and kissed her hungrily.

  They stumbled backward. Lauren hit the back wall, wrenched her lips away, and moaned. Ayers’s mouth journeyed relentlessly down to her neck, nibbling and tasting, biting and soothing as Lauren hissed under her devilish, naughty teeth.

  Her flailing brain tried to process what was happening. It had to be the adrenalin. Ayers was on some we’re-not-dead high and wanted to feel. And Lauren was there. Naked. Available. Very wet.

  She shivered as Ayers bent over her collar bone and licked, then lowered teasingly to dance down between her breasts. Then her maddening tongue slithered down further.

  It shouldn’t be enough, a small part of her brain whispered. She shouldn’t want to have Ayers so much, this way. It was careless and crazy, and Ayers had told her there was no future. But god, she wanted it. Any piece she could have of her.

  With a desperation she hadn’t known she felt, Lauren threaded her fingers possessively into silky hair, tugging, stroking, claiming, and then pulled Ayers’s mouth against her breast. Like an offering.

  She felt the lips against her soft flesh curl into a smile and then take Lauren’s breast into her mouth, tongue scraping across her nipple. She laved and toyed with the nub, her glinting gaze fixed on Lauren’s and filled with carnal promises.

  Steaming water sluiced over Lauren’s hair, her chest, Ayers’s face and the sensuous, pale arch of her neck. Lauren suddenly had to see her. Her hands fell from her hair and scrabbled frantically with the sodden shirt in front of her, blindly tearing at the fabric.

  Ayers pulled her mouth away to allow Lauren to rip the cotton from her body and toss it to the floor. Lauren kicked it away from the drain and then raked her gaze over what she’d unearthed.

  A delicate white bra was almost translucent, revealing the vivid red smudges hiding her nipples. She captured a breast and tongued it through her bra. She chewed lightly against the material, and arousal arced through her with every hitched gasp ripped from Ayers.

  She needed more. She tugged at the bra, wrenching it to Ayers’s waist, then undid it. Her hands were instantly full of breasts, thumbs flicking up to lavish attention on Ayer’s dark, aroused nipples. Ayers sighed, trailing fingers down Lauren’s sides to capture and knead her ass. The heat between her legs turned into an inferno, and Ayers curled her long fingers around and dusted against her clit.

  Lauren stepped back suddenly and enjoyed the startled inhalation of surprise. She slid slowly to her knees, enjoying having Ayers’s undivided attention as she stared down at Lauren with hooded eyes.

  She hurriedly unzipped and tugged down Ayers’s soaked pants and panties.

  She caressed the lean, smooth thighs rising above her, cupped the backs of them, and deeply massaged the muscles. She leaned forward to offer soft, reverent kisses, trail wet smears across the tops and insides of her thighs. She moved forward and kissed Ayers’s glistening pussy. Lauren admired the evidence of her handiwork and ran her tongue achingly slow up the slit.

  Ayers trembled. “Oh god.”

  Lauren smiled and repeated the movement, this time downwards. She licked the swollen flesh in earnest, teasing the lower lips apart. Ayers parted her legs wide and leaned back against the glass wall. Her hands dropped to Lauren’s hair, pulsing and pulling, pressing Lauren’s face to her.

  She swirled her tongue around the sensitive clit, and Ayers’s thighs quivered. Lauren found her entrance and slipped two fingers just inside as she continued to worship her with her mouth. The hands tangled in her hair stopped moving. Ayers made a sharp, strangled sound, then bucked and cried out, and a warm, salty-sweet essence coated her tongue.

  “Lauren!”

  Lauren drank her in, rubbed her face against her softness as the hands in her hair became gentle and soothing. After a few minutes, Ayers urged her upwards.

  Ayers met her halfway up the wall, kissing her fiercely, claiming her, pushing their bodies tightly together. The look in her eyes was wild. In one swift movement, she pressed Lauren’s shoulder blades back onto the cool rear wall. Long, deft fingers scribbled their way between her legs, teasing and testing, and then parted her folds. A thumb pressed itself at the top of her neatly trimmed curls and rubbed in firm circles.

  Lauren groaned, feeling her legs become jelly. Ayers was relentless. Lauren felt tremors begin.

  “Inside,” she gasped.

  Ayers paused as if considering whether to obey.

  “Please.”

  Lauren didn’t even recognize the plea as her own until Ayers’s face split into a knowing smile. The sort of smug smile that would have annoyed the hell out of her if she hadn’t been at her mercy and begging for release. Ayers took her with two fingers. The tapping, punishing thumb returned again and again to her clit, playing her like a straining violin quivering against its top notes.

  The orgasm came indecently, humiliatingly fast. Lauren gave a low moan, unprepared for its intensity. Her legs, already weak, buckled as warmth flooded her. Ayers caught her on the helpless slide down, wrapping her arms around her, pressing their breasts and stomachs together, whispering words that Lauren couldn’t make out over the thundering of her heart.

  Ayers’s head relaxed against Lauren’s shoulder, her tongue still tracing sinful, teasing patterns across her skin. Lauren’s fingers mapped the bare flesh along Ayers’s ribs, admiring the goosebumps breaking out that were not from any coldness.

  The warm water kept falling. Ayers kept holding her. And Lauren, heart hammering in her chest, tried to memorize the feel of Ayers’s gorgeous body pressed against her own.

  Then she heard one word. A question lazily purred against the shell of her ear that sent a thrill straight to her core.

  “Again?”

  CHAPTER 14

  The Last Ally

  Lauren woke feeling pleasantly sore in places she hadn’t felt sore in for a long, long time. Her breath caught at the memory of Ayers’s sated expression when she’d finally stepped out of the shower and paused, studying every inch of Lauren who was still standing, mesmerized, under the stream of water.

  She slowly towelled herself dry, eyes never wavering from Lauren’s nude form. She turned to go and gave her a small smile over her shoulder. “Good night,” she said.

  Tongue-tied, Lauren had mentally agreed it was. It really was.

  She lay in bed wondering if they could find a way to make this work. She’d always wanted to go to DC. Maybe doors would open, as Ayers predicted, once their story ran? To have more of the icy woman melting under her fingertips made her skin heat up at the mere thought.

  Lauren went mechanically through her morning ablutions, barely able to focus on much more than the many arousing ways Ayers had touched her. Those intense eyes filled with desire were something she would
never ever forget.

  At that, she padded downstairs, eager to find the woman who had invaded her every waking thought.

  Ayers stood in the kitchen by the sink, gazing out at the garden. She wore a gray silken robe. Bare, shapely legs caught Lauren’s attention. She’d had those wrapped around her hips at one point, as Lauren pressed her into the wall.

  “Morning,” she said softly.

  Ayers started and pivoted abruptly. Lauren’s heart dropped. There was a tightness to her jaw and a coolness in her eyes.

  “I suppose it is.” Ayers moved to the cupboard and pointed. “Coffee?”

  “Only if you’re having some.”

  “I’m not,” Ayers said. “I’m stimulated enough as it is.”

  “Really?” Lauren gave her a cheeky grin.

  “About our story,” Ayers corrected curtly.

  Lauren blinked, at a loss at the stony visage. “Okay.”

  They stared at each other.

  “Are we going to talk about last night?” Lauren asked.

  Ayers’s expression didn’t change. “What’s there to talk about? It was an understandable moment of weakness in the face of what we experienced. Being relieved to be alive. It happened. Let’s move on.”

  “Weakness?” Lauren’s stomach twisted. “That’s it then? All decided?”

  “This cannot possibly be news to you. I never once lied to you about my intentions.” She flicked her a dismissive look. “I suppose you’ll be heading back to your apartment now.”

  Lauren peered down pointedly at her gloriously rumpled sleepwear. She’d only barely crawled out of bed. It wasn’t much past seven.

  “Our story is done,” Ayers continued flatly. “I checked with Security, and they believe the risk will be gone once the story’s published tonight. You’ll be fine.”

  “Right.” Lauren said tightly. “So it’s just ‘thanks for the fuck and get out?’ Except you didn’t even bother with the thank you. Real classy.”

  “Lauren,” Ayers said, pursing her lips. “That’s your spin, not mine. We knew going in that last night was just last night. Your career’s about to take off, and I’ll soon have the freedom to correct mine, far away from here. We both get what we want.”