Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  He groaned and pushed the papers off of his desk and onto the floor. I grabbed his laptop and set it on the chair, leaving us the full expanse of the desk. He picked me up, his strong arms making quick, light work of me, and he set me on the desk, kissing me hard. I pulled him toward me and laid down on the desk, pulling him down on top of me. He quickly pulled off his shirt and I followed suit; I watched his eyes explore my body, pausing to appreciate my breasts, and my flush of embarrassment turned to a flush of arousal. I felt his cock, hard against my thigh as he sat over me.

  “You’re delicious,” he said. “Absolutely, fucking delicious.”

  I smiled. There was no trace of anger on his face or in his voice. He didn’t care that I had been in his office… or he had just gotten very distracted.

  I wrapped my legs around his hips. “Come here,” I whispered. I reached for him and, as he lay on top of me, we quickly got rid of our remaining clothes and all I could feel was his hot skin above me and the cool desk below me.

  He kissed my chest and worked his lips toward my nipples, which were hard and waiting for his touch. He sucked them individually, then cupped my breasts with his hands and pressed them together around his face. He moaned into my cleavage, then growled as he gently bit my left nipple. I gasped as a shot of ecstasy shot straight through me, a direct line to my pussy, which was already wet and waiting for what it hungered for. His cock was absolutely rigid, and it moved along the inside of my hip as he shifted himself to be hard against me. I spread my legs wide and he wrapped his hands around my thighs, positioning my legs over his shoulders as he slid down off the side of the desk. My pussy was so wanting, almost physically reaching for his attention, and he tugged me down toward him, giving me a mischievous grin through my legs as he did so.

  The angle at which he pressed his mouth to my pussy was absolutely divine, and I felt myself relax into him. His hot mouth began to lap up my juices, licking and kissing my inner thighs, my labia, and teasing my clit as he passed over it with his tongue. I squirmed and groaned under his touch, my legs pressing against his shoulders.

  “Someone has quite a grip,” he said, smiling.

  “Shut up and fuck me,” I said, feeling a surge of power; there was something about fucking on his desk, in his office; I couldn’t believe I hadn’t done that before. We hadn’t done that before. It was the biggest turn on!

  “Your wish is my command,” he said, and he latched his mouth onto my clit and sucked, hard, sending me over the moon in an orgasm that made me cry out so loudly the vague notion of neighbors popped into my mind. I laughed, the waves of my climax shuddering through me, until I felt him shift again and, suddenly, my pussy was filled with him, his thick, strong cock sliding into me easily. He groaned as my vaginal muscles massaged his cock and he began to thrust into me, slowly at first, then faster and faster as I came down from my first orgasm, knowing I wouldn’t come down all the way before he probably brought me to my second. Drops of sweat poured off of his bare chest and I kissed him, our salty tastes mixing together. I pulled him closer to me, forcing his pubic bone to press against my clit.

  I could tell from the pace of his breath that he was going to come, and I gave myself over to my second orgasm, crying out as he pumped harder and harder, until he released in a loud moan of pleasure that nearly rattled the windows. When we finished, we both lay together, sweaty and laughing, his head on my chest, my knees bent with my feet wrapped around him.

  “Delicious,” he said again, lightly stroking my nipple with the soft pad of his fingertip.

  I was nearly dozing but woke up when my nipples became erect, happy with the attention Brad was continuing to give.

  “You’re so incredible,” I said. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said in a near whisper. “Ever again.”

  I was about to ask him if he was serious or kidding when I heard my phone ring in the next room. I felt my body react and forced myself to stop and stay right where I was. I felt panic rising in my stomach and hoped that Brad thought the sudden increase in my heart rate was from him. The only person who would be likely to call me was Patrick, and I had promised him I would answer when he called me back with any information about Mavin. I hadn’t expected him to call back so quickly.

  I squished my urge to jump up and answer the phone. It rang five times and then stopped.

  “Your heart is beating practically out of your chest,” Brad observed, and I bit my tongue.

  “I’m, uh, a little turned on right now,” I said. It wasn’t a total lie. “I might be ready to maybe see if the second time could be as good as the first?” I pushed the phone call out of my mind, and Patrick along with it. I couldn’t call him back with Brad in the house anyway; that’s something I should have thought of. I just hoped Patrick wouldn’t worry and think something had happened because I hadn’t answered the phone. I knew I needed to at least text him, and soon.

  “I think it’s worth investigating, Miss Investigative Reporter,” he said, trailing the same finger that had been stroking my nipple up and around my throat and my jaw to my cheek.

  “I’m not an investigative reporter,” I murmured as I moved to kiss him. “I just do fluff travel pieces.”

  “Well, call me fluffed, then,” Brad said, and he shifted so I could feel his cock, already hardening again.

  As he began to kiss me, I pushed all thoughts of NCA agents, phones, pictures, fading from my mind as Brad’s mouth overtook my remaining sensibilities.

  Brad

  I stood at the site and surveyed the progress the workers had made in just a few short days. It was nothing short of impressive. The site still looked like a bomb had hit it and demolished everything, but the crew had been working around the clock to separate the rubble that was actual rubble from what was equipment and inventory that could be salvaged. The entire site stretched out before me and I still felt the sinking sensation of failure moving through me. I tried to imagine what the site must have looked like through Manuel’s eyes, and that increased the sensation, a squeezing pressure in my chest. I took a deep breath and was surprised to feel it shaking as it moved out of me. Manuel, as he’d said, had not been in touch. His last words to me echoed in my mind. I don’t like when people destroy what belongs to me, he had said. When you find them, kill them. When you kill them, alert me. I don’t want to hear a word from you until that happens.

  “Hola, Senior,” one of the crew members nodded to me as he walked past, carrying an armload of wood scraps and metal as if it was nothing. I nodded back. The crewman had reminded me to find the foreman and let him know I was pleased with the work they were doing. I calculated quickly how much the entire job was going to cost, and I added ten percent as a bonus to be paid to the workers. I nodded, the act of calculating easing, slightly, the squeezing sensation in my chest.

  I continued to walk around the site, surveying the work and adding to the growing list of things I needed to do. Whenever I thought of Manuel’s words, I didn’t know where to begin. He seemed to think that I knew who had done this; he seemed to think that I had some way of accessing the infidels in order to kill them. I knew that if I didn’t contact Manuel within a reasonable amount of time, he would assume I hadn’t completed my task. Then… would he take away something of value to me? Permanently? I pushed the thought out of my mind before the emotional sensations could double me over.

  What I needed to focus on at that moment was contacting all of the sites I’d been in touch with to get a fresh load of inventory imported from those sites. Whatever the condition of the facility was, there was no way that Morocco could go any longer without the security our inventory provided. I’d been coordinating with several countries and, as I scrolled through my texts, I knew we were in decent shape. The only contact I hadn’t heard from was my South Africa contact. I sighed and put my phone back into my pocket. The South African contact was a newer acquisition; I’d just been there less than a year earlier. Though I’d been impr
essed with the facility and the organization, the primary contact I was working with had expressed a distinct lack of leadership ability. I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t heard from him.

  “Coming along, Sir; we’re working as fast as we can.”

  I turned to look at who had spoken, and I smiled when I saw the supervisor of the crew approaching. I shook his hand and complimented him and the workers.

  “There will be a bonus for you and your men if you can continue at this pace,” I said. “I know it’s a lot, but the progress you’ve made already is extremely impressive.”

  The man seemed to almost blush through the sweaty flush his skin had taken on in the heat of the day.

  “Sir, we know that this is important. I made sure the crew understood that this was not an ordinary job.” He was obviously choosing his words extremely carefully.

  “I appreciate your sense of urgency,” I said.

  He shook my hand again and walked away. I stared after him, deep in thought. I knew that I was probably going to need to fly to South Africa for at least a few days to jumpstart the transportation of the inventory to Morocco. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t be any sort of an issue… but I wasn’t in Morocco alone. I winced as the thought of Cassie came into my mind.

  Cassie, who had gotten so close to discovering one of my biggest secrets. I could still feel the jolt to my heart I’d felt when I’d opened the door to the room I was using as an office and saw that it wasn’t empty. Saw that she was sitting at my desk. Saw what she held in her hand. I shook my head, trying to clear it and remove the anxiety surging through me. So close. I had said that the picture of Antoine had been a picture of me, gambling on the fact that she had only been looking at the face, not at the background. She had seemed to believe me, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think that I was in the clear. I needed to make a decision quickly: either bring her in to help me, or cut her loose. Another mistake like what had just happened could cost lives. Cassie’s… mine… Antoine’s…

  I needed to come up with an excuse that would be believable for why I had to fly to South Africa immediately.

  My phone rang; the caller ID came up with Simon’s picture.

  “What is it?” I asked into the phone. Simon and I had given up greeting each other with hellos and how-are-yous ages ago.

  “Just checking in on South Africa. I’ve received manifests from Egypt, Turkey, and Russia; South Africa is the only one who we’re still waiting on.”

  “I’m aware,” I said testily. “I think I’m going to need to go down there and deal with that asshole personally.”

  Knowing exactly who I meant, Simon responded without skipping a beat. “I think that’s a shrewd decision. I know it’s a… disruption…” he paused, “but, it will ultimately take less time and be more effective in the long run.”

  “You have no idea how disruptive,” I said.

  “Does she know anything?” Simon asked, again, knowing exactly who I was referring to.

  “Not yet,” I said. “I don’t think. There was a close call the other morning, but… no, I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t want to remind you about her job, Brad, but I do want to urge you to be even more careful around Cassie than you would be around another woman. She’s not just going to take what you feed her without question.”

  “Yeah, you know something? I fucking know that!” I snapped into the phone. I immediately stopped, closed my eyes, took a breath. Simon was my greatest ally in the world, and I didn’t need to fight with him. Especially when he was right.

  “When are you going to go to Johannesburg?” Simon asked, ignoring my outburst.

  “As soon as possible. Today, most likely. I need to talk to Cassie, tell her something she’ll believe, then I’ll take the plane.”

  “Are you going to leave her in Morocco?” he asked.

  “Yes, and you’re going to keep an eye on her.”

  “Me?” He sounded surprised.

  “Unless you’d rather go to Johannesburg and deal with that mess,” I said.

  “I’ll guard her around the clock,” he said quickly. “Not to worry. Do you want morning and evening updates, or would you like them hourly?”

  I smiled. “Morning and evening unless it becomes necessary for you to update me more often. I’m hoping that everything will just go according to plan for at least a few days. We’ve earned that.”

  “Indeed,” Simon said, and we ended the call.

  I kicked a rock and thought again about what Simon said about Cassie being a reporter, and my stomach wrecked itself all over again as I remembered her holding Antoine’s picture. If Manuel found out that someone put together the connection that Antoine was my son, he’d have that person killed by sunset. I knew I couldn’t let that happen. Worst case scenario, if Cassie did find out for certain, she’d likely break up with me, which would make it harder to protect her. She’d be open to harm, and, worst of all, the last opportunity for me to get Antoine back would blow away in a puff of smoke.

  South Africa first. Then, I would deal with Cassie and confess the truth to her. The more I thought about it, the more I felt confident that, once all of these other obstacles were removed, she would be able to help me get the information I needed to get Antoine back, alive.

  Cassie

  “You are absolutely, one hundred percent, fucking kidding me!” I yelled, not bothering at all to try to rein myself in. “Are you serious?” I slammed my hand, which had been floating in the air emphasizing my thoughts, down on the kitchen counter. I saw Brad wince, and at least then I knew that he was feeling slightly guilty over abandoning me to go to South Africa.

  “Honey, you know I wouldn’t do it if it was at all avoidable.” Brad’s pleading tone did nothing to diminish my anger.

  “I know that we’re supposed to be on vacation? And I know that you’re not supposed to be working right now? I know those things; do they sound familiar to you?” The counter separated us, and I was glad. The last thing I wanted was for Brad to do what I was coming to know as typical ‘Brad behavior,’ doing something wrong and then wrapping his strong, firm arms around me and somehow, magically, getting me to forget why I was ever so silly as to be mad in the first place. Not this time; that counter was serving as a cock block and I wasn’t going to remove it.

  “I know, I know,” he said, his voice full of regret and exasperation. “There’s a huge crisis in Johannesburg at the property, though, and it’s not something I can handle over the phone.”

  “What crisis?” I demanded. “What crisis is so important that you have to leave me here, by myself,” I emphasized, “and fly there?”

  He ran his fingers though his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration as he did. “It’s a combination of things,” he said. “They’re too complex to explain. Not that you wouldn’t understand,” he said quickly, responding to my snort of derision, “it’s just too stupid and boring to even go over. I basically have to go down there and clean up someone else’s mess, that’s the short of it.”

  “So I stay here by myself on a completely fucked vacation because someone else messed up? You do realize I’m completely trapped here without my passport, right? I mean, do you get that? This isn’t you taking the car to work; you’re taking the plane, my only mode of transportation out of the country, and leaving me here. What if I have an emergency? What if something happens in my life? Or does that not matter to you?”

  I was laying it on pretty thick, and I knew it. I also knew that I didn’t have a lot more leeway before Brad, who wasn’t used to having to explain himself to anyone, especially to a dime-a-dozen girlfriend, would get fed up with my yelling.

  To my surprise, though, he didn’t bite back; he agreed with me.

  “I do realize that,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that Simon is here; if anything happens, you can text him and he’ll be to you in a minute, and I’ll be back on the plane in an instant. I promise we’re going to get your passport straightened out the second we g
et back to London; I’ll handle it myself with the Embassy the second we touch down. And,” he looked at me, his hands out, palms up, in a gesture of apology, “I’m sorry.”

  I glared at him. “Whatever,” I said. “I’m going to go get some air.” I grabbed my purse and phone from the counter and I walked out the door. I heard him calling behind me, but I ignored him. I felt my begin to fade as I walked out onto the street and toward a small restaurant I knew was a few blocks away. I figured I could grab some coffee and a snack, calm down, and make it back to the hotel in time to say goodbye to Brad. A voice in my head that was still angry suggested that not being able to say goodbye to him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but the voice in my head that was falling more and more every day for him told me I owed him a big fat apology. That he wasn’t used to having someone else’s needs to consider, and that I was on a fully paid for vacation in Morocco with the man of my dreams, and perhaps I should simmer down on the attitude. That voice almost made me turn around and go back to the hotel, but I kept walking. I did decide to text Brad, though, as a compromise.

  Hi Baby, I’m sorry. I just love being with u. I know u have things u need to do. I’ll be home in a while and I’ll bring u something to eat.

  I thought about clarifying that I would bring him food, but I envisioned him fantasizing about me instead and left it as it was.

  I walked into the restaurant and ordered a sandwich and a cup of coffee, then took out my phone. I had thought earlier in the day about contacting my editor, and this was as good a time as any. I dialed her on Facetime and waited as it rang through. When the word ‘connected’ appeared, a surprising amount of relief flooded through me.

  “Hi!” My editor said. “What a surprise! A great surprise! How are you?” Her smile was broad and I could see her office in the background of my phone screen. It made me homesick a little, nostalgic for the Monday morning meetings we would have in her office.

  “I’m amazing,” I said, forcing a smile that was bigger than how I felt onto my face. “I’m talking to you from Morocco!”