Marching into the washroom, Amy walked into a cubicle and slammed the door shut. They didn’t need bathrooms. They didn’t eliminate waste. The food and drink they consumed worked as feel-good illusions, part of the privilege request list. Someone had once placed washrooms on their request list. They became popular and stayed. They served as a sanctuary.
Humans sometimes needed the undefinable solitude washrooms provided, the one place they could get away and be alone, take advantage of its privacy, even if only for a short while. Behind the washroom’s closed doors, they could drop their masks and just be themselves, regroup, and walk out the door, ready to take on the rest of the day. A strange thing to keep in the skies, but an important one.
She heard the door slam as Jack entered.
“What is it with you?” he spat.
“Do you mind? I’m on the loo. Can I have some privacy, please?”
“No, you bloody can’t.”
“Charming. Ever the gentleman, I see.”
“I repeat, what are you playing at? Don’t you think Maggie has enough to deal with, without your childish, shallow chatter?” His inflection rang like a squeaky teenager. “Miss… can-we-have-sex-please.”
“I can ask whatever I want. It’s a free country…I mean sky, planet…wherever the fuck we are…shit, grrrrr,” she growled. “I want to go to the loo. Leave me alone.”
“Grow up, Amy. Stop being so selfish. Either get on with the job or get out. I’m not sure why you’re here anyway. You’re a fake,” he spat, angry she wanted to be with someone else, angry it wasn’t him.
Amy stormed out of the cubicle and ran at him across the washroom floor, hurling herself at his rigid body. They fell backwards onto the hand dryer wall. Jack laughed, raising his hands up against the wall in surrender.
“Hey! Careful.”
“Don’t you dare call me a fake. There’s a reason I’m here. What’s yours? Someone broke your toy car…”
With an open palm, she slapped him across the face. He stood stunned for a second and slapped her right back, not as hard, but the shock bewildered her.
“How fucking dare you hit a woman?” She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back against the wall.
“You hit me. Why not?”
“You’re supposed to be a gentleman.”
“You behave like a lady and I’ll be one.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with a lady.”
“Says the bird who wants to shag any Tom, Dick, or Harry she meets, puhlease…”
“I don’t.”
“Well, what was all that about with Maggie then?”
“I want to shag…yes, but…”
“Who? Pyke? That Italian schmoozer in his designer suits?”
“Can we shag up here? Is it possible? Is it illegal? I mean do we explode or disintegrate into dust or something?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“You mean you haven’t thought about it all the time you’ve been up here?”
“No…yes…I mean…it hasn’t come up.”
She released her grip. They stood tantalisingly close. She could smell his maleness. If she could just lean in and kiss him.
“So, you’ve wanted to screw someone up here?” she questioned.
“Yes.”
“Who.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Who is she?”
“Is she up here or down there?”
“For fuck’s sake, Ames, this is ridiculous. We’re not in kindergarten. That’s my business.”
“You wanted to know who I wanted to fuck, so why not let me know who you wanted to fuck?” She put her hands on her hips, waiting for his answer.
“Because you’re a nightmare. You need protecting. You’ll choose the wrong guy and jeopardise all of us.”
“If I don’t explode into thin air.”
“If you don’t explode…oh, I don’t know! This is ridiculous.”
“You know? You’re right. I’ve chosen the wrong guy.”
“Who?”
“You.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yes, oh fuck.” She edged back from him. “You see…is that your answer? Oh fuck? I knew it. The wrong guy. You don’t even fancy me, and now I’ve gone and laid it out there, and blown it…how embarrass—”
Before she could finish her tirade, he grabbed her face, pulled her mouth towards his, and kissed her hard, bruising her lips.
She backed off, trying to catch her breath. He spun her around and threw her against the wall, trapping her. Still holding her face, he pushed his body into her. She stared up at him open-mouthed.
He delved into her mouth with his searching tongue. He’d waited so long for this, he couldn’t stop.
At first, she faltered, not knowing if he was real or playing with her.
Then…fuck it.
She joined in, pulling, grabbing, tearing at his clothing. She wanted him so badly it hurt. She kissed every part of his face, eating him up, taking as much of him as she possibly could. His smell and taste intoxicated her. The groans at the back of his throat gave her courage. He wouldn’t let her face go. She could barely breathe.
She fumbled with her clothing, pushing her trousers to the floor, kicking her foot out of one of the legs, freeing her body to jump up onto his hips. He stood open legged, his body pinning her against the wall. He stopped kissing and looked hard into her eyes. Watching her, willing her, still holding her face.
A ringing tone sounded in Jack’s head. It was Pyke… shit. He ignored the intrusion.
Keeping her gaze on his, following his lead, taking his look as a yes, Amy reached down and undid his trousers. The material slipped to his knees.
A ringtone sounded in her head. She pretended not to hear it.
Gazes still locked on each other, he moved his hands beneath her buttocks, cupping her, lifting her weight.
“Do you want this?" he asked. “Are you OK with the risk?"
“If you don’t, I’ll die anyway."
He eased her up over his bludgeoning cock and down onto him.
“Oh, my god! I’ve died and gone to heaven,” she smiled, tentatively easing herself up and down on him.
He grinned back, “Well, so far so good. We haven’t exploded yet.”
She grabbed his face and kissed his mouth. “Shut up and fuck me.”
He hadn’t imagined it like this. In his dreams, he’d wanted to pleasure her for hours before he fucked her, watch her come over and over. And then take her long and slow. But this moment overpowered him. He couldn’t hold it. All these years of waiting, of following her, of watching her every move, of standing so close but being so distant.
“OK, you asked for it.”
He lifted her off the tip of his cock and bounced her up and down, just on the tip, just teasing her until she cried in his ear, then rammed her down hard on top of him, entering her deep. Making her cry out in pleasure, he repeated the teasing, again and again, with the tip of his cock rubbing her clit, then when she could take no more he drove her down on him, sinking into her, making her mouth open and eyes close in pleasure.
Until it was too much.
He started pumping hard, her back crashing into the wall. She didn’t care. She asked for more and more.
The ringing tone in his head again; Pyke was persistent. Jack quickly answered it.
“Not now, Pyke,” he gasped.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack’s green light popped on.
Pyke saw in glorious close-up what Jack could see, Amy’s chest bouncing up and down, her legs wrapped around Jack’s hips, the view of Jack’s cock sliding in and out of her.
“Ooops…cor blimey, sorry mate…err,” the call and light closed abruptly.
Jack didn’t care; he couldn’t have stopped if the Queen had walked into the room. He was on a roll. He pumped harder and harder against her cries, until the rush of ecstasy waved over him. He came hard, high up inside her. His body collapsed.
His head sank onto her shoulder where her heavy breathing resonated in his ear.
They stayed, leaning against the wall, getting their breaths back, still panting, hearts pounding, sweat pouring.
She didn’t want to move. She clung to him like a limpet and rested her head on his, giving tiny kisses to his forehead.
“I’ve got to put you down,” he whispered.
“No,” she sighed.
“Yes, my legs are about to go,” he smiled.
He eased her gently off him. She wobbled as she hit the floor, her body in post climax jelly mode. They clung to each other, listening to each other’s breathing.
“We didn’t die then. I guess it’s allowed,” she managed to say, smiling up at him, wiping a droplet of sweat from his jaw.
Bang, bang, bang.
The washroom door shook.
They jumped.
Bang, bang, bang.
Pyke’s voice, from the other side of the door, detonated in the room.
“Sorry to ruin the party, guys, but the boss is back. We have work to do,” he thumped again.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Get out of here. Fast.”
Amy giggled. They struggled to get into their clothes and ran out the door, running into a red-faced Pyke.
Chapter Eighteen
Alice
Brighton, UK
Dio lay his shiny black mobile phone on the small square table between them. Taking time to line it up in the centre of the table, equidistant from each edge. She watched, mesmerised as his long elegant hands deftly nudged the phone into place.
“How did you know it was me?” she asked, once the waitress had carefully placed his steaming black coffee in front of him.
“Well, I have to admit I googled you.”
He slowly slid his coffee cup to his right, lining it up exactly midway between the edge of the table and his phone. She watched him, his movement languid and seductive.
“Oh,” she muttered, blushing, flattered.
“I sourced your image through social media. It’s a dangerous thing, you know, young lady. One can find anything one wants through the Web.”
He scooped his hand across the table, and, without asking her, dragged her coffee cup to the other side of his phone. He stared down at the three items, happy with their perfect alignment.
Without looking up, he whispered.
“You should be careful,” he mumbled, his voice too low for her to hear.
“Sorry? What did you say?” She leaned forward, trying to hear him. The smell of summer gardens explored her senses again.
“You need to be careful. The Internet is a dangerous place to play in for young girls like you.” The slight reprimanding tone in his voice made her feel uncomfortable.
“Oh, well, I’ve got nothing to hide.” She shrugged, pretending not to care.
“That’s not the right attitude. It’s a bad world out there. You should be vigilant,” he chided, then whispered again, forcing her to lean closer.
“I wouldn’t want any harm to come to you. You’re way too special for that.” He stared into her eyes, making her feel like she was the only person in the room. Her heartbeat accelerated.
He cocked his head to the side and trailed his fingers along his bottom lip. His eyes watched her reaction, happy she followed his every move, unable to look away. Her mouth eased open.
His fingers trailed off his lips onto his cheek, gently stroking his clean, soft skin, circling the length of his jaw, down his neck, and casually tugging at his shirt collar, as if feeling the heat.
She blushed. Was he flirting with her? He had to be at least twenty years older than she. Did he find her attractive? Flattered, she sat tall, puffed her chest out, and felt her confidence growing. She flicked her hair from her face and affected a grown-up sophistication.
Using the tip of his forefinger, he watched her closely as he absentmindedly traced the rim of his cup, his finger circling round and round, her eyes following his every move.
“It’s a little hot,” he whispered.
She couldn’t talk.
With both hands, he gently wrapped his fingers around the cup and cautiously brought the scalding coffee to his waiting mouth. Holding the cup in front of his face, he looked over its rim and locked gazes with her. She stared back, silent, captivated, unable to turn away.
He pursed his generous lips and gently blew cool air across the liquid’s surface with an overtly sexual innuendo.
Her mouth fell open. She wanted to feel those lips on hers, to taste them. As if reading her mind, the corners of his mouth curled upwards, forming the thinnest smile. Her gaze darted away. Embarrassed, she grabbed her coffee, causing it to spill on the table top.
Flushing with awkwardness, she looked around and snatched a few napkins from a holder on a nearby empty table. Frantically mopping up the spillage, she apologised profusely.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m so clumsy.” She chased the droplets across the table. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s OK.” He rested his hand on hers to calm her. “Let me do that.”
His hand lingered before he wheedled the napkin from her. An electric shock charged up her arm and prickled through her body. She reluctantly pulled her hand away, watching him tidy up the mess and deposit the soiled napkins on the next table.
“There you go. All is well again. No harm done,” he replied, beaming.
She nodded a thanks, calming her nerves; she picked up her coffee and sipped quietly.
He smiled at her, safe in the knowledge that, as with most people, he captivated her, she was unable to resist his charm…like lambs to the slaughter.
Chapter Nineteen
Cloud 9
“He’s a Brit, Zagan Black, Zigzag to his friends. The Italians want us to clean him up.” Pyke talked Jack and Amy through the file. He pretended not to notice their disarray; he would tease them about it later.
Amy tried not to look at Jack. Whilst he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“He works out of a relatively small casino in Porto Antonio, along the coast from San Remo, on the Italian Riviera. His modus operandi is to set up…”
The office door opened. Mara sashayed into the room.
“Well, hello, everyone,” she said, taking them all in with one sweep of her fiery dark lash-laden eyes. All tits and teeth, her figure hugged a black dress leaving nothing to the imagination. Pyke’s eyes lit up.
Maggie followed Mara in. The two women stood in front of Pyke. He looked at the two of them and smiled. They couldn’t be any more different.
Maggie called Jack and Amy over. Jack was still staring at Amy, loving it that she couldn’t look at him without blushing. It was cute.
“Everyone, this is our new recruit, Mara. She’s joining the team for a while, helping Pyke out. Introduce yourselves.” Maggie walked to her desk, leaving the team to get on with it. She looked over her shoulder and gave Pyke one of her warning glares.
“… and Pyke don’t teach her any bad habits. Try to play nice.”
But Pyke was the least of her worries.
Jack pulled his stare away from Amy and turned to meet the new recruit. His eyes hardened.
“What the fuck?” he cursed under his breath.
Amy gave him a quizzical look.
Pyke smiled at his lovely new assistant and stepped towards her with open arms. He was on his best behaviour; he’d promised Maggie he would give this one a chance, which was easy. The woman was sex on legs.
“Good to meet you, Mara. I’m in dire need of help. Welcome to the madhouse. How are your IT skills?” He embraced her, and then stood back, looking her up and down. “Wow, you’re stunning. Not bad for a dead person,” he grinned.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” she flirted. “My computer knowledge is good. Not as good as you, but good enough. My main talent is digging deep for dirt, profile analyst work. I’m a fast learner and here to help, so what do you need?”
“Well, let’s get star
ted. We’ve just started briefing on this new job. Come join us. This is Jack and Amy.”
Pyke pulled Mara over to the screen they’d been working on. Amy shook her hand with a polite smile.
“Wow, Pyke, let her catch her breath. She’s only just arrived. Mara, would you like a drink? Have you been shown around?”
Jack stood glued to the spot, his skin ashen.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.
Amy and Pyke spun to look at him, feeling a tad awkward. It was not like him to be rude. Troubled, grumpy, and complex, yes; but not downright rude.
“You know each other?” asked Pyke.
“Oh, yes. Intimately,” Mara purred.
She turned to Jack. “Why, honey, I thought you would be pleased to see me,” she simpered; hand on hip, doe eyed.
“You know each other?” asked Maggie from her desk.
“Why, yes. He’s my darling husband.”
Jack grabbed Mara by her forearm and marched her toward the exit. She trotted along beside him, grimacing a smile to keep up appearances, but obviously in pain.
Pyke and Amy stood and stared, watching Jack push her out the door into the corridor.
Maggie turned to face the window, her back to the departing couple; she tapped her earpiece and waited for a voice to connect.
“I thought you said our new recruit had no previous history with any of our current team. I specifically requested no history,” she barked.
A voice replied into her ear.
“On whose authority?” she demanded.
The reply made her close her eyes.
Chapter Twenty
Jack slammed through the washroom door, forcing Mara to go with him. They stood a foot apart, hands on hips.
“I repeat. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Mara flicked her long locks over her shoulder and looked around the room in disgust.
“Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel welcome. A washroom, thanks so much,” she teased. “Very sexy.”
As she picked up a fallen dustbin and stood it upright, she noticed the cracked mirror.
“What the hell happened in here?” She pointed at the glass with her manicured finger. “Is this where you come for all your fights?”
The Deal (The Fallen Angel Series Book 1) Page 11
