by Alana Melos
ROCK HARDIN: AGENT OF A.S.S.
in
OPERATION: THRUSTMASTER
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
EPILOGUE
Prologue
Cindy Cutler kissed her lover Sebastian passionately while tearing off his shirt. “I can’t wait to have you,” she giggled in between breathless kisses. As she reeled back, slightly drunk from their celebrations and libations, she couldn’t help but to admire his perfect physique. His skinned was tanned from his time spent outdoors, and his muscles were perfectly defined, almost as if they were chiseled from stone by a master sculptor. She kicked off her heels and giggled as she sank down before him, running her tongue down his hard pecs and six pack until she reached his belt. There she stopped and slowly undid the buckle, looking up at him with wanton lust in her eyes. “I have to taste you,” she said, tossing her long straight blonde hair back with a flick of her neck.
“If that is what you wish, then by all means,” he said, cupping her cheek with a hand, feeling her soft skin. The young dilettante smiled at him, and whipped his belt out of the loops so she could lower his trousers. Already, Sebastian’s cock stood hard and firm, ready to go. She pushed his boxers down, and circled his cock with a delicate hand.
“Mmm… this is what I want,” she murmured before taking the head of his cock into her luscious mouth, her own young, firm body swaying from side to side as she began sucking his cock. Her tongue swirled around his hardness, tasting every bit of him as she began to take more and more of his shaft into her wet, warm, and willing mouth.
Sebastian thrust into her mouth. He couldn’t help it. “Ah, you are so good at that, my love,” he groaned. Without trying to, he began to face-fuck her slowly, wanting to feel more and more of her talented tongue on his cock. When she stopped for a second, he started to protest until he saw her lower the bodice of her already low cut dress to let her breasts bounce free. Kneeling up straight in their hotel suite living room, Cindy pressed her breasts together to let him slide his prick in between the valley of her cleavage. He moaned as he fucked her beautiful breasts slowly, ending each thrust in her mouth where she suckled the tip of his cock until he withdrew again. He couldn’t stand it any longer. “I am going to ravish you,” he whispered.
The young dilettante moaned at those words, giving his cock a last good long suck before letting him fall free of her mouth. He swept her up into his arms after kicking free of his trousers and boxers and practically threw her on the couch, her ass facing him. He slid her panties aside, unable to wait a second longer to feel her hot cunt on his cock. Rubbing his cock along her wetness made her moan in desire, and buck back against him as she gripped the back of her couch, her long, manicured nails digging into the fabric as her lover drove her crazy with lust. “You like that? You like to feel my cock on you?”
“Ye-es,” Cindy moaned, her head bent. “Stop teasing me already and fuck me. Fuck me hard!”
“As you wish, my love,” he said, thrusting his hard cock inside of her wet pussy. She cried out as he did, moaning and writhing on the couch. He gathered up her long blonde hair and twisted it in his hand, holding it firmly as he began to ride her. “Your pussy… it’s so tight,” he groaned as he worked in and out of her, relishing every inch of her fantastic cunt. “I love how hot you get, my flower.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, almost as if every other word of her vocabulary was lost to her. She swam in a sea of desire and lust, and she reached her hand down as Sebastian rode her from behind, sliding her fingers along her clit. The hot young blonde wanted to come around her lover’s magnificent cock, and she fingered herself, heightening her pleasure. Before long, she was panting under their combined attentions, moaning inarticulate affirmations.
Sebastian kept fucking her, and he fucked her hard. He used her hair to guide her where he wanted her to be, and then to keep her in place as he slammed his cock into her. He traced the line of her back, ruined slightly by the dress she still wore, then reached around and felt her breasts. Her nipples were hard as rocks, and he smiled to himself before putting his free hand on her hip and steadying her as he thrust hard into her lush cunt. She began to come first because of her hand, and as her pussy tightened around his cock, she began to thrust wildly back at him, unable to help herself as she was lost in the throes of passion.
The sight of this wanton creature in front of him and the feel of her deliciously tight cunt around his cock became too much for him, and he came explosively. Sebastian thrust one more time into her cunt viciously, burying himself to the hilt as he shot jet after jet of hot cum into her willing pussy. They were locked together in pleasure, crying out as one as they came, more or less together.
“That was groovy,” Cindy said with a long, satisfied sigh. “I need a shower and then--”
She was about to say more, but the balcony window suddenly exploded inward as a rappelled into the room, breaking it with his feet. Glass flew, and Cindy shrieked as Sebastian dived for cover. The young woman turned to see what made the noise and shrieked again as a man clad all in black with a mask over his face let go of the rope to which he’d been attached and drew out a gun. She froze, not knowing what to do, and cried out for the only person she knew could help her, “Help! Sebastian, help!”
Another man clad entirely in black joined the first, sliding down the rope slickly and landing easily on his feet. Cindy wanted to scramble away, to hide, to hit them… to do something, but the gun rendered her will powerless. Sebastian stood up straight, his hands curled into fists. “Leave!” he demanded.
As one might expect, bringing fists to a gunfight didn’t bode well, and the man in black fired his pistol, shooting Sebastian in his leg. The Frenchman went down like a bag of bricks, screaming and holding the wound. That galvanized Cindy into action, and she jumped over the back of the couch, racing for the door.
Quick as she was, the two strangers were quicker still. Both of the men in black raced after her, turning over furniture in their haste to grab the dilettante. The first grabbed her shoulder. She turned and slapped him in the face. Without hesitation, he returned the hit. Not one to go down without a fight, Cindy’s knee came up and racked him straight in the crotch. The first one went down, groaning in pain. She grabbed the handle and twisted. Freedom loomed before her as the door opened into the hotel hallway.
A guest from across the hall had opened his door. “Miss? Are you alright?” Cindy lunged for freedom when the second masked man caught her. She screamed, a raw sound of sheer panic. The masked man jerked her back inside the room, throwing her to the floor. The male guest across the hall froze, perhaps not believing what he was seeing. “Let her go,” he said, voice shaking, which robbed the demand of its teeth.
The second masked man drew a pistol and fired. The guest fell backwards into the room, and the masked man closed the door. Cindy scrambled, trying to get to her feet. The first man had recovered sufficiently to grab her, and hit her again. This time, he rendered her unconscious. The last thing she saw as the world swam out of focus was Sebastian, lying on the floor….
Chapter One
Special Agent Rock Hardin strode down the underground hallway, ready for his briefing. The six foot two inches tall man made of solid muscle walked like he owned the place… which he felt he did. He was one of the top agents for the American Secret Security branch of intelligence, an agency so secret only a handful of officials knew it exi
sted, taking care of all manner of business which the rest of American agencies couldn’t, or wouldn’t, touch. The ruggedly handsome agent knew he was disposable; the government would disavow him and his actions, but that just gave him the freedom to do what needed to be done, and operate out of his own play book.
The building in which he walked stood short and unassuming in the middle of Washington, DC. Ostensibly, he was an office worker, just one more of the schleps working a nine to five pushing paper. Underneath the building lay a sprawling bunker which contained the A.S.S. and all the necessary equipment and personnel to enable it to do what they did. The best of the best worked here, all willing to die for their country. A patriot above all, Rock admired the dedication of his coworkers knowing that without them, he wouldn’t be able to perform as well as he did.
He rounded the corner which led to Mason’s office. His secretary, Dawn Delta, sat behind the desk as she always did, her dress a bright riot of color and cut too short to be proper… another thing he admired about at least some of his coworkers. “Oh, Rock,” she said as he approached, twirling a few strands of her long red hair around a finger. “Mr. Mason is ready to see you. Maverick’s in there already.”
At the mention of Burt Maverick, his friendly rival and fellow top agent, Rock raised a brow in question. “Two agents?”
Dawn nodded, licking her luscious lips to wet them. Rock leaned on the desk and admired the view as she went on to explain, “It’s a two part mission. I don’t think you’ll be working together.”
“Well, that’s… interesting,” he said, meeting her bright blue eyes with his own dark brown ones. “I don’t mind working with a partner though… provided it’s the right partner.”
“We should partner up sometime,” she said, smiling coquettishly and leaning forward, displaying her ample bosom. “I know just the mission for us.”
He drew a finger along the fine edge of her cheek, “Maybe when I get back. For now…” Rock sighed dramatically and jerked his head towards Mason’s door, “Duty calls.”
“If you must,” she sighed, yet her smile remained in place. The gorgeous secretary buzzed the intercom, “Mr. Mason, Agent Hardin is here to see you.”
The reply came immediately, “Send him in.” Rock stood up and shrugged his broad shoulders with a ‘well, there you have it’ regretful grin. He blew Dawn a kiss, and opened the door to head of the agency’s office.
Mason’s office had been decorated by a funeral director. The lighting was low, and the furniture austere, almost severe in their bleakness. A portrait of the current president hung behind the director’s chair which changed when the president did, and an American flag stood in the corner in a stand… and those were the only decorations in the room. Two uncomfortable chairs sat in front of the large black desk, one of which was already occupied by Rock’s fellow agent, Burt Maverick. Maverick and he had joined the agency at about the same time, each with a special set of skills which set them apart from a typical spy. Not only were both well versed in hand to hand combat, pistols and other ranged weapons, and a plethora of survival and espionage skills, but both had distinguished themselves by their quick thinking and ability to adapt to a host of different specializations. Where they differed was their attitudes and preferences for getting the mission done; Rock preferred to use subterfuge and seduction whereas Burt favored brute force and intimidation.
He certainly was built for it. Although both agents were the same height and in prime condition, Rock’s form lent him a more sinewy, lean figure. Burt was built like a brick, a very handsome brick, but a brick nevertheless. So broad and muscled, he appeared to only barely fit into the chair provided. When Rock slipped into his seat, Burt upnodded at him, and adjusted his ever present cowboy hat.
“Glad you could make it, Agent Hardin,” Director Mason said, sarcasm staining his voice. “Now that we’re all here…” He handed the two agents dossiers, and opened the one in front of him. “Calvin Cutler is a weapon designer working in Washington. He comes from a long line of brilliant minds, and his is no exception.
“Currently, he is working in conjunction with the best military minds to create this….” Mason handed them a sheet with the designation ‘For Eyes Only’ emblazoned across it. Although he was not a mechanical engineer, Rock could tell at a glance it was some sort of hand held weapon. “This is a high powered hand held laser, capable of killing a man.”
“I thought lasers weren’t… lethal,” Burt objected. “It’d take too much power, generate too much heat.”
“That would be true, in most cases,” the director said. “Cutler has solved the problem of energy using a new form of battery, what he calls fusion batteries. Those in and of themselves are a national security risk, but he’s almost solved the other problem as well, bringing science fiction well and truly into the modern age.” Mason glanced at the paper before him, then continued, “The gun itself can only fire three to five shots before exploding… and because of the nature of the battery used, the explosion is severe, generating the force equivalent of a half dozen sticks of dynamite.”
Rock whistled low between his teeth. Even if the weapon didn’t work, the sheer explosive potential could be devastating in the wrong hands. “You need us to rescue this scientist?” he asked.
“His daughter,” Mason corrected. He brought out a photograph of a beautiful young woman with long flowing blonde hair. In the photo, the girl was smiling ear to ear, giving her the impression of having a zest for life and fun. Her delicate beauty tugged on Rock’s heart… among other places. “She was kidnapped by an unknown terrorist organization from her suite in Paris. The attackers killed one bystander and wounded her lover Sebastian LeMarchand. We got a tip off that the terrorist’s ransom demands were delivered to Dr. Cutler no more than a few hours ago, and we have a two prong mission for the both of you.”
Director Mason turned to Burt. “I want you to accompany Dr. Cutler,” he said. “He’s agreed to exchange his plans for his daughter… and he snuck them out of the facility he was working in with a four hour…” The director glanced at his watch, “Four and a half hour head start. Find him, and stay with him. Do not let that exchange be made under any circumstances. We simply cannot afford to let those plans drop into enemy hands. However, if he thinks we’re going to let his only daughter die… he won’t come back. To that end….”
Director Mason turned to Rock, “It’s your task to find the daughter and rescue her. In addition to that, we want to know the country responsible for this vile deed, if possible. Any information you can get, we want. Use whatever means necessary. As soon as Ms. Cutler is safe, contact Agent Maverick.” Mason waved a hand, “Equip, and head out. We haven’t any time to spare.”
Both agents stood, nodded, and then exited the Director’s office. Maverick didn’t spare Hardin a look as they both headed to the research and development wing. Rock glanced over, then back forward again, “What’s with you?”
“Don’t fuck this up,” Maverick said.
“What’s your problem?” Rock asked, glancing over to his companion once more. Burt’s mouth was set in what seemed to be a perpetual frown, shadowed by the brim of his hat.
“The Jensen affair, that’s my problem,” Maverick replied, spitting the words out. “I swore that was going to be the last time we worked together.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Agent Hardin said as they stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for R&D’s level. “How was I supposed to know she was a double agent? And that she hid a hand grenade in her purse?” He gave a half a sigh, “Flora… gorgeous, sweet…” He had fond memories of the Jensen affair, though he couldn’t fault Burt for being a little sore. He’d had to go through some painful surgery to get all of the shrapnel out of his back and ass.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been thinking with your dick, you would have known,” Agent Maverick said, turning on his heel to face Hardin. He loomed… they were the same height, but somehow, he loomed over Rock and shadows almost s
eemed to gather around him. “You know how long I was out of commission?”
Hardin stood up straighter and placed a hand on Maverick’s chest. “Back off,” he said, his voice low and cool, though not nearly as intimidating as Burt’s. He hadn’t quite mastered the knack of intimidation, but he wasn’t about to back down either. “It wasn’t my fault, and we’re not working ‘together’ anyway. Two separate missions.”
Maverick growled for a second and just when Rock thought he was going to do something, the other agent laughed his good-old-boy laugh and eased back. “Yeah, well, you still owe me for that,” he said, chuckling. “We’ll settle up, sometime.”
Rock half-smiled and upnodded towards him, thinking that would be the day. When the elevator doors opened, both agents stepped out and headed to Skip’s lab. Skip Rivers, although technically not holding a degree in any sciences or engineering, was the head of the lab, putting his unique and crazy mind to work creating devices specifically for spies in sticky situations. More often than not, his devices proved instrumental in completing the mission, as well as saving Rock’s life on more than one occasion. They found him in the main laboratory, hunched over some project.
When Skip heard them approach, he straightened up to his full six feet six… which would have been impressive if he wasn’t as thin as a beanpole. He flipped his oddly cut dark hair back, so that it was out of his way, and smiled lopsidedly at the two men. “Greetings, gentlemen,” he said. “Right this way… I don’t have much for you ready. Evidently time is short.”
They followed him over to a workbench, and true to his word, he only had a few items present. The first, of course, was a wristwatch which served as a communicator. This was practically standard issue anymore, but Skip pointed out they could be flipped open for a rudiment radar, which would only last a few minutes, “So use it sparingly.” The next were a more or less standard array of weapons for Maverick, many of them built to be broken down quickly and concealed. In addition, he was given a quick knock out gas, disguised as a breath spray. “For Cutler, if you have to,” Skip added. “There’s maybe two doses in there, enough to bring down someone… well, as big as you, Burt.”
