by Kris Calvert
I nodded. “I want to, I just…”
“Try to relax.”
I nodded again and King moved to my ankle, delicately kissing the bone before move to my calf.
“I’ve dreamed of doing this since I saw your beautiful legs the first night in the hot air balloon.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
Running his tongue from my calf to my knee, he stopped to kiss again. I opened my eyes to gaze down at him and found him kissing my thigh, but looking right at me. His eyes were disarming and I felt myself relax into the feeling.
Finally he moved back to my inner thigh, pushing my legs apart and allowing himself to become intimate with me.
My body spasmed at his delicate touches to my innermost sanctum. Nibbling gently at my sensitive skin, I let out an uncontrollable cry of pleasure and instinctively arched my back into the touch of his mouth and intimate kisses. I looked into the mirror over our heads and watched myself give into King.
Writhing on the bed, my breasts tingled and tightened and I gasped for air, his muscular body moving in aqueous splendor with each wave of passion he bestowed on me.
“King. Please,” I begged.
He lifted his gaze to meet me and uttered one word. “Breathe.”
Desire blazed in his blue eyes and I could feel our hearts beating in unison. Splaying his strong hand across my stomach, he touched my skin as if he was memorizing every freckle, every nuance. Unhurried, he slid his body on top of me. I could feel every inch of his electrically charged skin tingle against mine. Dropping his hand, he cupping the space between my legs he’d just had his way with.
His sex was swollen and heavy against my thigh and I’d never wanted anything so much in my entire life. Kissing my breast, he rolled my taut nipple with his tongue and I again arched my back.
“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you, Reagan.”
I looked to the mirror and watched him caress my body over and over with his strong hands. I felt safe. I felt love. I felt ecstasy.
“I could kiss your body all night, baby,” he said, pausing to brush a curl from my face. “You’re exquisite—everything about you is simply perfect.”
As King kissed me, my body cried for more of him. I ached to have him—to be one with him. “Please,” I begged. “King, please. Don’t make me wait. Don’t make me beg.”
Reaching to the nightstand, I watched him pull a string of condoms from the drawer. Tearing off one Magnum, he sat back on his heels for the mere moment it took him to roll the condom over his thick manhood.
Resting between my legs, he paused. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life Reagan. It’s…I…I just love you.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ve waited my whole life for someone to love me. Please don’t stop now.”
Filling my lungs with the sweet smell of his skin, I matched his slow and deliberate breaths. King’s sex nudged impatiently at the petal-soft folds of my womanhood. Then like the unfolding of a flower in spring, he filled my inner need.
My breath caught in my chest, hanging there as he moved deeper. When he paused to moan at the glory of our oneness, I exhaled, opening myself to him.
In a slow insistent rhythm, King rocked against me in unconscious time, watching my face intently and breathing with me in a harmonious unison. Bucking beneath him, he delved deeper into me with each measured stroke of his body.
It was hypnotic and I found myself lost in his arms, in his body and his soul. Gasping at each touch, he kissed my lips, tangling his tongue with mine. Pushing my knees up, King urged me to wrap my legs around him.
Gyrating in relentless circles, I felt myself clench, the blood humming through my veins so quickly I felt as if I might pass out. In an instant my body tightened around him and I cried out in uncontrolled abandon.
Lying still for only a moment in the afterglow, King picked me up off the bed and walked our bodies, still joined, to the couch in the corner. It was the same curvy couch in his secret bedroom—the same one in Joy’s toy room.
Straddling the center section, he placed my bottom on the brown leather as we faced each other and I did my best to catch my breath.
“King,” I gasped, tears of deep emotional release flowing from my eyes. “That was perfect.”
He smiled and kissed me with wild abandon. “That’s just the beginning my love. I can do this all night.”
Placing my legs on either side of the couch, I straddled him as we both sat upright, staring in to each other’s eyes. Cupping my bottom, King began moving into me, rocking his body over and over as he traced my neck with his gentle kisses.
Lying back on the larger end of the S shaped curve, he lifted my hips over and over as I rode him while his smooth hands traced my body, stroking my back and the length of my legs.
“Please,” I begged, no longer able to control my pleasure. “Please.” I fought for breath. My chest heaving like a bellows as I felt my body tense as I reached for the final shattering release.
In a blinding moment of completion, I cried out, unable to control the volume of my voice. “King!”
Carrying my bottom from the couch, he slid my body to the top of the curve and stood, his legs on either side of the narrow bench as he lifted my hips to meet the hard pulse of his arousal.
King flexed his hips and the hard muscles of his thighs moved against my bottom. I looked into his eyes. Deep within me, he possessed me—every inch of me. I never wanted to own my body ever again. I felt him hard and tight inside me, his flesh swollen with need.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him to me tightly.
“Come with me, baby,” he begged.
Moaning, I pushed back against him, bucking, arching and finally colliding in perfect thrusts. King clenched his teeth and twisted his face before letting out a guttural moan, surging against me one last time as I released my body to the tremors of ecstasy.
Convulsing in spasm, King collapsed in a heap on top of me.
Finally catching our breath, we inhaled and exhaled together, whispering the same four words in unison. “God, I love you.”
25
KING
Lifting Reagan’s limp body from the Tantra chair, I carried her back to the bed, my legs as weak as a newborn calf. Covering her with the soft white sheet, I fluffed the pillow under her head, before climbing over to lie beside her.
I pulled her body into mine, spooning her and kissing her neck. “Are you all right?” I asked hoping our love making session hadn’t been too much for her. I’d watched her closely to make sure she was comfortable. I smiled with satisfaction. For a woman who’d never made love before, she was a natural. “That was amazing, love. Simply amazing.”
I felt Reagan take a deep breath, her body expanding in my arms. “How’d I do?”
“How do you feel?”
“I feel like I can’t feel anything. My body is exhausted and numb—all of it.”
“Me too. That means we did it right.”
“Yeah, you did it right three times.”
I kissed her shoulder. “I like bringing you pleasure. It gives me great satisfaction to see you in a state of euphoria.
“And you?” she asked.
“Are you asking me if I had an orgasm?”
She nodded as she stared straight ahead and I rolled her over and into my body, her lips melting into mine. “You rocked my world, baby.”
“Really?”
“Pinky promise,” I replied, pulling her hand from the bed, entwining our fingers.
I kissed her tiny nose and brushed the hair from her eyes. The glow of the candles off her skin was magical—almost as magical as the moments we’d shared.
“That was…” she hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“What?” I gently rubbed my fingers across her shoulder. “Don’t hold back. I never want there to be anything between us.”
“I never thought sex—making love, was like that. I don’t know what I thought it was, but not that.”
&nb
sp; “What do you mean?” I hoped I’d not pushed her too far too soon.
“It was like I could feel your body, but I could feel your soul too. Like electricity coursing between us.”
“It’s enlightenment. The love and adoration we feel lasts way beyond the moment of release. It’s the oneness. But I’ve never felt—”
“What?”
“Like this.”
Reagan pointed to the Tantra chair. “You mean sex isn’t always like that?”
I shook my head no. We’d reached an altered state of consciousness. “What we have is special.”
She nestled back into my arms and looked to the clock on the wall. I needed sleep, but I wanted to make love to Reagan again.
When the house phone rang, I was startled at first, then took a deep breath, pissed that I had to get out of bed. “Talk to me and this had better be good.”
“It’s Lilah. I need you to come downstairs and open up.”
I walked to the window still buck-naked to watch the headlights came up the lane. “What the hell Lilah. Why?”
“Your cover’s been blown.”
“What?” I walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. “What did you just say?”
“I said your cover has been blown.”
“Look, Lilah. I don’t know what you’re talking about. But—”
“King,” she said cutting me off. “This is Nyx. Your cover has been blown.”
Hanging up the phone, I rushed into the bedroom, tossing a terry cloth robe to Reagan. “Get up sweetheart.”
“Why?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“My assistant Lilah is here and I need to speak with her. Get dressed. We’re going to head on back to Shadeland tonight. I need to get you back to the hotel.”
I rushed around the room, pulling my jeans back on and slopping a t-shirt over my head, digging my way into the armholes. When Reagan didn’t budge, I raised my voice.
“Reagan,” I shouted. “Now!”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on. Tell me who you are, King.”
Picking up her dress from the floor, I tossed it on the bed and turned on the overhead lights. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” I said, shutting the door behind me.
Taking the steps two by two, I rushed to the front door, opening it before Lilah had a chance to knock. She rushed past me without saying a word.
“Talk,” I said looking at her. No longer in her usual skirt and sweater set but black pants and a field vest. She was clearly operational. Lilah was Nyx.
“There’s a hit out on you and Reagan Weatherford,” she said. “Your cover’s been blown. You mission is compromised.”
“How? Why?”
Pulling papers from her bag, she slammed a photograph on the coffee table. “Rodya Laskin. AKA, Ronald Laskin, Dr. Red Laskin. Part of Russian Organized Crime out of New York City, he’s spearheading the drug coop with the Russians and terrorists out of Syria.”
“I saw Red in Bangalore with the others. He was a casualty of the explosion. I killed him.”
“You didn’t. These photographs were taken eight hours ago in New York. He made it back to the states almost as quickly as you did.”
I sat down and thought of the man outside the factory as I left ZoAlta. It wasn’t the janitor at all. It was Red.
I stood and began to pace. “I need to leave for Russia immediately.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Nyx stated, taking my place on the couch.
“Why the hell not?”
She shot me a look. I was finding it hard to reverse roles with her. The woman I’d been bossing around for six months and contemplating firing was my fucking boss.
“I’ve memorized the layout. I have the Semtex and I’m ready to go. Don’t deny me this. Especially now.”
“Deny you what?”
The voice came from the top of the stairs and Nyx and I both turned at the same time.
I looked away from Reagan. “Nothing.”
“I think it’s a little late for lies. Don’t you King?” Reagan deliberately took each step one by one as she descended the staircase.
I looked to Nyx for direction. I wanted to tell Reagan the truth. “Well?” I asked of my boss.
“Look, Agent Weatherford,” she began. “We need to get you out of here and to a safe place.”
“What? Why?” Reagan asked turning to me. “And why are you asking her permission to speak to me?”
“Because he answers to me, and right now so do you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Reagan was less than pleased and it was evident in her tone of voice.
“Request permission to carry out the mission. Please.” I stood in front of Nyx—her once demure schoolteacher quality was gone. In its place was a stern, all-business commander. “I’m mission ready. I’ll do this last one and then I’ll go off grid.”
“Off grid?” Reagan said. “Someone better start telling me what’s going on.”
Nyx walked to Reagan, sizing her up from head to toe. “King and I are NOC. His cover has been blown and what’s more, your cover in New York has been blown.” She turned, pacing between the two of us. “There’s a bounty for both of your heads by the Russian mafia.”
“How do you know that?” Reagan asked.
“Because we have an agent inside the organization. Believe me, they’re coming for you.”
There was a brief moment of silence and I contemplated my options. I knew Reagan was doing the same.
“I need to call Win. He’s a sitting duck in Shadeland,” said Reagan.
“Win Holloway has already shipped out of Alabama and we’ve placed him somewhere he will be safe for the time being. He was very concerned about you not being with him,” Nyx replied looking to Reagan. “But it was for the best.”
“Look,” I began. “I want to carry out this mission. I realize I could be walking into a death trap, but if they want to kill me, I’d rather take the fight to them because I can guaran-damn-tee I’m not going to sit around and wait for them to show up and slit my throat.”
“Me either,” said Reagan.
“You know the rules, King,” said Nyx. “If you’re caught or anything goes wrong, you’re on your own.”
I nodded.
“I’m willing to take that risk too,” Reagan chimed in.
“Look, Reagan.”
“Agent Weatherford.”
“Agent Weatherford, like King, you’ll suffer whatever consequences this brings on your own. Are you willing to lose your life over this?”
Reagan looked to me and then back to Nyx. “If he’s going, I’m going.
26
REAGAN
We didn’t speak of the night we’d shared. We didn’t speak at all. King had given me clothes to wear—things he had at the lake house for the women he’d entertained there in the past, and I stared at my options lying on the rumpled bed we’d made love on just two hours earlier.
Holding up the white lace thong with his monogram for him to see, I couldn’t help but ask the question. “Do you really expect me to wear these?”
King gave me a fleeting glance. He was all business and suddenly, I was his partner—not his lover. “Wear whatever you want. I was merely trying to expedite our departure. We need to be at the airfield in forty-five minutes,” he said leaving me alone in the room.
I dressed quickly and tossed them in the duffle bag along with another change of clothes he’d given me, and as I zipped up the bag, I felt my phone vibrate in the back pocket of my jeans.
It was my dad. I didn’t want to answer, but I knew in the next two days I wouldn’t be able to. It was best that I took his call now.
“Hey Daddy. I can’t really talk right now. Is this important?” I slung the bag over my shoulder and left the room and my newfound sexuality behind.
“I’m sorry to bother you Gip, but we need to talk. Now.”
Panic gripped my insides and I worried he was about to tell me that he was sick. It was my great
est fear since my mom died—losing my dad. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he replied. “But you aren’t.”
“What are you talking about Dad?”
“Honey, the other night I tried to tell you something, but you hung up on me.”
“It wasn’t a good time. Just like now isn’t a good time.” I thought back to when I’d last spoken with him and realized it was the night of my hot air balloon date with King. I hung up when King had knocked on the door.
“It’s never a good time, but this is important so don’t hang up. I’ll track your ass down if I have to, so don’t make me.”
“What are you talking about Dad?”
“Reagan,” His hesitation told me he didn’t want to tell me. He needed to tell me “Honey, when you were kidnapped all those years ago.”
“Dad,” I sighed as I tossed the bag of clothes on King’s couch were he’d amassed a slew of firearms and files. There was nothing about those two weeks that I wanted to rehash, no matter what he thought was important.
“Just pipe down and listen to me dammit.”
“Fine Dad.” I sat on the couch in a snit. “I can give you two minutes.”
“The group that kidnapped you.”
“I know who they are Dad. Why is this important now?”
“Because I know you’re tracking Rodya Laskin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad.” I said the words, immediately wondering how he knew so much.
“You’re getting a little too close to them. Look honey, I killed three of his friends and put another two in jail. Even though you use your grandmother’s maiden name, you’re on his radar.”
“How do you know any of this?”
“I still have friends on the inside that lookout for you, Gip. Why wouldn’t I know this?”
I opened my mouth to tell my dad that I was in deeper than he could ever imagine and then thought better of it. There was no reason to worry him even more.
“It’s fine, Dad. I’m not working that case anymore anyway. They’re transferring me out. Which reminds me, I’ll be gone for a few days and I won’t have my phone with me. It’s ah…some special training.”
