Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “Leave them on,” he said. “You are too good to me.” He lightly slapped my ass and I felt a surge of energy push through me; my clit throbbed in wanting. I arched my back, lifting my ass toward him. He took my hips in his hands and began to rub his hard cock between my legs. He pressed me down toward the couch, his hand in the center of my back, and I complied, dropping onto my forearms.

  He entered me suddenly and I gasped, my body ready and wanting, yet not daring to hope for such immediate satisfaction. He began to thrust, stabilizing himself by gripping my hips and back. The sound of his quads against my hamstrings, a regular, slapping sound, made me wetter, made me call out his name.

  “Brad, fuck, fuck that feels so good,” I gasped. The words ran together in one breath, and I braced myself harder against the couch.

  He grunted in response, thrusting harder against me as he stood on his knees. I could tell he felt powerful in this position; his cock was nearly bursting in length and girth, and he slid in and out of me so easily I clenched my vaginal muscles to cling to him each time he entered.

  “Oh, fuck, Cassie!” he called out as he came in a surge of pressure, his cum pressing into me, his hand slapping my ass lightly but with intention, the crack of his palm creating heat on my ass that drove straight to my clit and pushed me to my own orgasm. I cried out louder than I meant to, and was grateful for the fabric of the couch cushion and its ability to muffle my noise. Though, I knew that Brad liked me to be loud… I cried out again.

  ***

  I woke up the next day with a delicious hangover and the sensation that I had been deliciously fucked. I got up and put on my robe, turned on the coffee, and saw a note on the counter from Brad.

  “Ran to a quick meeting down the street. Be back in time for breakfast. Maybe like dinner last night?”

  I blushed, grabbed my laptop, and walked out onto the patio. I took a moment to gaze out over the balcony to the street below. It was a week day, and the streets were filled with people on their way to work, meetings, social occasions. It was just another day in the life.

  Then, I saw Brad. He was standing on the corner nearest to the hotel, and he was talking to someone. My body tensed immediately as I realized that he was upset. His gestures were animated, and his body was jerking with a nervous energy. I strained to see whoever he was talking to, but the man’s face—I was convinced it was a man—was hidden. I stood, watching, as the man, who had appeared calm at first, began to mirror Brad in his stress and energy. I looked around to see if anyone else was noticing the confrontation.

  “Hey!” I yelled over the balcony, but it was too far down for either man to hear me. I ran to grab my phone and I quickly texted Brad.

  Are you okay???

  I watched as he took out his phone and looked at it. He turned to look up at the balcony and, for a moment, my eyes were locked on his. Then, I turned my gaze to the man he was talking to, who had looked up along with Brad.

  My stomach fell and I felt my hand move involuntarily to cover my mouth. The hair, eyes, the stocky build… Brad was standing on the street in a confrontation with Mavin Toller. The man responsible for my abduction. And… he had seen me. He knew I was in Morocco with Brad, and he knew which balcony was mine.

  I dropped down from view, my breath ragged and my heart pounding in my chest. I gripped my phone and wished I was in America, wished I could just call 911 and make this all go away. Wished more than anything that Patrick was there to protect me. But, Brad. Brad had sworn he was there to protect me, and he had promised to tell me what was going on with his past.

  Did his past include Mavin Toller? And, if it did, how closely, exactly, were the two connected?

  My phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down and saw Brad’s name. I took a deep breath and slid my phone to unlock to read his message.

  Cassie

  Brad’s text seemed to take up the entire screen on my phone. It was one word:

  Run.

  I ran. I was in my robe, so I quickly threw on jeans and the first shirt I could find, which happened to be a dark green henley that belonged to Brad. I grabbed my purse, shoved my feet into shoes, and opened the door. I started to run toward the elevator, but I realized that, whatever danger I was in, I’d have a better shot of avoiding it if I stayed out of the confines of the elevator. I ran down the hall, listening for the ding of the elevator or the click of a door, until I got to the stairwell. I opened the door and pulled it closed behind me. I tried to listen for any sounds in the stairwell, but my breath was ragged and my heartbeat sounded like fireworks in my ears. I forced myself to close my eyes, slow my breath down, and listen.

  I slowly made my way down the stairs, alert as an eagle, trying to listen for even the smallest sound. The stairwell doors were open into the stairwell, but in order to get out of the stairwell, a key was needed to unlock the door at any level. Brad had explained this security measure to me some time ago; it was designed to trap anyone trying to make a quick getaway from a room. I tried to not think about the irony, and, instead, gripped the key card in my hand so hard I felt it cutting into my palm and fingers with each step I took.

  The walk to the street level, the emergency exit door, was probably a two minute walk by normal standards; today it felt like it took ten years. When I finally burst through the door, completely oblivious to the sound of the emergency alarm that began to ring throughout the hotel, I ran to my right only because it was the opposite direction I’d seen Brad talking to Mavin Toller. I ran until I felt like my heart was going to explode in my chest, until my lungs were pulsing so hard with each breath they seemed to stretch my rib cage. I stopped and looked all around me for any movement, anything that seemed out of the ordinary. My instincts were fired up to full capacity, and I could practically hear the sensations as they buzzed through me.

  I had run to a fairly deserted part of town, and I realized I was closer to the port than I’d ever been before. In a lot of ways, this was probably the safest place—from Mavin Toller. In other ways, though, I was not safe. The port was a notoriously high crime area, and one that Brad had always told me to say away from, even during the daytime.

  But, desperate times called for desperate measures, and there would never be time that qualified more as “desperate.” I began to try to find ways to blend in. I slowed to a walk, stopping to look around and continue to be fully aware of my surroundings and stay one step ahead of any danger that might come my way. I realized I still had my key card and my phone in my hand. I tucked them into my purse, glancing at my phone to see if Brad had texted. He hadn’t.

  Brad. A brief shock of fear went through me as I thought of him standing on the street with the man who had abducted me. They were standing out in the open… surely if Mavin Toller attacked Brad, someone would do something to stop it. Of course, I remembered, I’d been abducted in the middle of the day in a busy restaurant, and no one had seen a thing. Mavin Toller knew how to attack subtly and quickly.

  I shook my head and continued to walk. I walked along a retaining wall that protected part of the port from the waves below. Stacked several high in neat rows were row boats, but not silver metal or brown wood like most were in the United States; these boats were colored brightly: blue, pink, lavender. Under any other circumstances, they would have made the perfect photograph for Destinations, with a captivating article written by me on the prospects of Casablanca as a tourist destination.

  I began, automatically, to write the copy in my head, but I stopped when I realized what I was doing. A lump formed in my throat as I began to think, in what seemed to be becoming a daily occurrence, about everything that had changed in my life the day I’d met Brad. Would I give him up to go back again? I didn’t know.

  I took my phone out as I stood near the boats, my back to the ocean, watching for any flickers of movement. Nothing from Brad. I texted him.

  Where are you??

  I waited a moment for an answer, then I began to text Simon. I didn’t know what to say, so I clic
ked out of my texting app and called him. He answered right away.

  “Cassie? What a surprise. What’s wrong?”

  “Is Brad with you?” I blurted out.

  “What happened?” Simon’s voice, serious anyway, took on an even more somber tone. “Where are you? Are you safe?”

  “I’m safe,” I said. “He’s not with you—” I tried to finish my sentence, but too many thoughts, all of them bad, flooded my mind. The weight of them nearly buckled my knees.

  “Where are you, Cassie? I’ll come and get you.”

  I got my wits back and everything I knew fell out of my mouth in one breath. “Brad is in danger,” I said. “He was on the street, I was looking out the window, and I saw him, he was talking to a man, and I didn’t know who it was right away, so I wasn’t worried, you know? But then the man looked up at me, and I saw that it was Mavin Toller, who is the man who abducted me, and is probably the man who killed Patrick, and now he has Brad, somewhere? Or Brad got away? I don’t know, because Brad texted me and told me to run, so I did. I ran down the stairs and out onto the street and I found my way here by the boats.” And I stopped. I paused; I’d run out of words.

  Simon was silent on the other end of the phone. I could tell he was taking it all in, and, because I was getting to know him fairly well, I could almost see him. He was probably standing in his suite, looking out his window and down at the street, wondering if that was the street where Brad and Mavin had stood, wondering if he could have seen them and stopped their interaction. He likely had his fingers of one hand pressing into his temples and, once he stopped looking at the street, his eyes would be closed.

  “I’m coming to get you right now,” he said. “It’ll take me five minutes to get to the port are. Where are you? What’s around you?”

  I told him about the boats, and I described a building nearby that I assumed was for fishermen.

  We hung up, and I sat near the boats, keeping a watchful eye on everything around me. I could taste the salt in the air, and the breeze coming off of the water was a cool reprieve from the air temperature around me. I ran my fingers along the asphalt beneath me; it was covered with sand from the beach, dragged up onto the platform by the boats and feet of the fishermen.

  I tuned into the sound of a motor breaking through the white noise around me, and I became alert immediately. I realized I would be vulnerable for at least a few moments. I assumed the motor belonged to Simon’s car—but I could be wrong. I felt anxiety surge through me with thoughts of Mavin Toller driving toward me with Brad tied up in the back seat, or, I shuddered involuntarily, in the trunk. I tried to resist my urge to hide, but it won out in the end, and I ducked behind a stack of the row boats. I didn’t know how visible I was; I felt completely open and naked, though I knew that couldn’t possibly be.

  From my hiding place, I listened as the sound of the motor grew louder. My heart pounded and I felt like I was going to throw up. Louder and louder, until, at last, it stopped, just a few yards away from the boats. I held my breath and waited.

  The driver’s side door opened, and a flood of relief washed over me as Simon stepped out. He had a gun drawn and he immediately pressed himself against the car as he pointed the gun out, his arms locked.

  “Cassie!” he yelled. “Cassie? Are you here?”

  I called out, “I’m here!” and I slowly stood up, my hands in the air so he wouldn’t be startled by the movement. He saw me and a brief look of relief noticeably crossed his face. He didn’t holster his gun, though, he just gave one quick jerk of his head toward the car.

  “Get in, fast,” he said. I ran toward the car, ducking as I did so. If Simon had shown up with his gun drawn, there had to be a reason. I tucked myself into the front seat of the car as quickly as I could. A moment later, Simon slid into the driver’s seat and set his gun in a case on the console.

  “Let’s go,” he said, shifting the car into gear and squealing away from the port.

  As we sped through the city streets, I opened my mouth several times to speak but no words came out. I wanted to ask so many questions, but it was as though words had failed me.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, finally, my voice dull with fear and anxiety.

  Simon glanced over at me, but then drew his gaze immediately back to the road as a car honked.

  “I’m taking you to a designated safe place; it’s a place Brad and I had already negotiated prior to any of this happening. He instructed me to bring you there in the event you ever got separated here in Morocco.

  A designated safe place. The words rang out in my head. Brad had known this was a possibility. My brain fought itself. Of course he’d known this was a possibility. You were fucking abducted, I told myself. He loves you. Obviously one of the first things he did was to do something to ensure it never happened again.

  The designated safe place was a small hotel that looked more like a Motel 6 than anything else. It was on the outskirts of town on the inland side of Casablanca. We had driven from one dangerous part of the city to another.

  “Is it safe here?” I asked quietly. “I mean, really?”

  Simon’s lips were stretched into a thin line. “It’s safe,” he said, putting the car into park. “The hotel is a Legacy; the fact that you didn’t recognize it as one means the designers did their jobs well. It’s called the Legacy Jewel. When you step inside, you’ll feel more at home.”

  He opened the door and ushered me into the lobby where, immediately, I had a sense of déjà vu as I looked at the same carpet, wallpaper, and furnishings as the hotel I’d fled hours earlier.

  Less than twenty minutes later, I was sitting on a plush, queen bed in my suite on the top floor—one level above the ground—and Simon was standing in the doorway.

  “I’m right next door. I’m going to track down Brad, don’t worry. He will probably be trying to call you, so don’t turn your phone off.” He paused, then looked like he wished he could take those words back. “Not that you would,” he added. He closed the door.

  I laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. My hand was on my phone when it began to buzz.

  Brad

  I had been willing Cassie to stay in the room. I knew she sat on the balcony more often than she didn’t, enjoying the air and the sounds of the city, much of which, she’d said, reminded her of home.

  I’d just finished a business meeting with an investor for Legacy, and I was on my way back to the suite when I saw Manuel Brown standing just off the center of the sidewalk, watching me. People moved around him as if he was a steel pole; no one ran into him or even expected him to move out of their way. He nodded, and I stopped.

  “Sir?” I said, a questioning tone in my voice that I tried to cover the best I could. “Did we…”

  “We had no scheduled meeting, Mr. White. Let’s step over here.” Manuel led me to the side of the sidewalk against a building. I could see Legacy over his right shoulder, and my first thought was of Cassie. I hoped she was still sleeping; I willed her to stay that way.

  “Of course, Sir,” I said. “You know that I’m always ready and willing to meet with you.”

  “Spare me,” Manuel said. “I’ve received word that your female companion, Cassie, has been doing more than causing you distraction. Do you have any idea how close she’s coming to uncovering the truth of who you are and what you do?”

  I shifted uncomfortably. Of course, much of the reason she was coming so close was because I had confided in her. But, how did Manuel know that? We had just been together; how could he possibly know?

  “Do you remember, Mr. White, when I told you that I wasn’t worried about Mavin Toller?”

  I nodded. I definitely remembered that.

  “Remember how I said I wasn’t worried? How I said that I was a giant with a magnifying glass and he was an ant? Where do you think I get that confidence?”

  I took a breath. “From your intellect and your courage, Sir,” I said. And your complete lack of empathy, I thought. Antoine
kept me from saying it, his face flashing in my mind. I felt my strength growing as I thought of my son.

  “Ah,” Manuel replied, “that’s a very politically correct answer, and I thank you for that. The truth is, I’m confident about that because I have a very specific piece of knowledge about Mavin Toller: that he is me.”

  I stared at Manuel for a moment as his words sank into my mind. He waited, not breaking eye contact with me.

  “Sir,” I said, “I don’t understand. Mavin Toller is a former CIA agent in the United States. He’s got a lengthy history… there’s no way…” I shook my head.

  Manuel sighed as if he was trying to explain something to a four year old child.

  “You still don’t understand the scope of my power, do you?” He looked at me with genuine pity, and it filled me with fury.

  “Why,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Why abduct Cassie? Why do that? Do you realize you nearly killed her?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I shook my head, wanting to pull them back. Of course he realized it. Not only did he realize it, he reveled in it.

  “Now, now, Mr. White, don’t be overly dramatic. Cassie’s life was never in danger. If anything, had all gone according to plan, she would be keeping your Antoine company right now.”

  “Don’t you say my son’s name,” I said, my voice low and trembling with fury. I stepped toward him, but he did nothing; he didn’t flinch, step back, or even inhale.

  “That would be a serious error on your part, Mr. White,” he said. “Control yourself.”

  I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and I took it out to look at it automatically, before I’d given any consideration to where I was.

  Are you okay???

  The text from Cassie had been sent moments ago. I looked up at the balcony and saw her leaning over the edge from our suite, looking at me with an expression of concern so sharp I could see it from where I stood. I looked away quickly, realizing that I was giving away her location; I pretended that I was stretching and looked the other way as well.