Julia/Simon Fic
My first contribution to the cause. I have a second one that's sort of rolling around in my head, but not sure if it will get written.
Thanks trixalicious for coming up with this challenge. Can't wait to read more of the 2years missing fic.
Title: Algeria
Author: CG
Feedback: Would love to hear what you have to say. If criticism, please make it constructive.
Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, and is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot productions.
Spoilers: None that I know of.
Summary: My take on the night they first met in Algeria.
Ship: Simon/Julia
Rating: NC-17 for adult situations.
Classification: Kind of PWP
**A/N - Thanks to Fawkes, Gracie, and ageofaquarius for betas and help.
The first time he met her she piqued more than his interest.
“Julia, is it?” he inquired of the blonde before him, purposely using his heavy accent to seductively slur his words. His eyes were fixed on the spillover of her breasts which, in his opinion perfectly fit the cups of her black leather bustier. “It’s a pleasure to meet someone of such…” he slid his gaze down to the matching leather skirt that wrapped around her hips like a second skin. “High caliber.”
He took a pull of his warm beer, still keeping his eyes on her body. Just below the hemline on her uppermost thigh, a hint of black lace from her stockings peeked out. When he reached the pointed toe of her stiletto boot, he nodded, showing his appreciation of what he saw. Like he would to a potential love interest. Or a prostitute.
As he trailed his eyes back up her taut body, he stopped again at her breasts, marveling at the contraption holding them in so tightly. And also wondering what it would take to spring them free. Thinking about the different tools he could use to rip the leather to shreds, he didn’t notice her finger hooking under his chin, raising his head to meet her eyes.
He finally took notice of her face as she forced his gaze up. Beautiful beyond compare, red lips curled so sweetly, with such charm. He almost smiled back until he took a closer look and saw a startling contrast. The sweet, sweet smile was a lie; the truth was in her eyes. Eyes that were cold, hard, and devoid of feeling.
“Most men who act like you don’t live to see anything north of the tits.” She spoke so quietly, and with the same lack of feeling that dulled her eyes, but her smile never wavered.
Keeping himself as still as stone, he pulled off his beer again, paying no mind to the droplets left on his lower lip. A normal man would be appalled at his behavior thus far, he figured, but really what did she expect? Coming into a joint this rough, wearing clothing fit to arouse the entire place for a week. Why should she be comfortable when everyone else in the room likely had a hard on that could pound stone?
“You come highly recommended.” He kept his confident stance and it carried into his voice. Then his eyes betrayed him, shifting to take a look at her mouth as it curved more seductively when she caught him staring.
“I do,” she said lowly while she traced the line of his lower lip with her thumb, catching the drops of beer as she did. “Come,” she breathed, almost low enough to be a moan, as she removed her thumb and sucked it in between her pouty lips. His lower body throbbed, just imagining what those lips and that tongue could do. She slid it back out and her eyelids lowered, now making her look almost like a wet dream he’d had last week. “Very highly recommended.”
They stared at each other, him not showing any of the heat that flowed through his body, and her…
She bared her teeth, opening them just enough to bite on her blood red fingernail. All coy and flirting at the same time, everything about her making him like her even more.
“Brilliant!” he shouted as he slammed his palm down on the wooden table, attracting a small amount of attention. He looked around at his mates, two of the other guys hired for the job tonight. “I like her. Come. Sit. Have a drink.”
He pulled her out a chair, his mind occupied by her skirt as it hiked even further up her leg when she sat. Bloody hot fucking legs.
No doubt about it. This was going to be some job.
The first time she met him, she was less than impressed. Well, at the beginning that was…
“Pompous bastard!” she seethed quietly between clenched teeth, a combination of pain and fury filling her. “What the fuck were you thinking, going back for the diamonds? We were paid to get the bullion and assassinate Pinchot. You can’t just deviate from the plan at your own fucking will!”
The chair that she was tied to shifted as she heard him shuffle closer to her on his knees. One thing after another, it seemed, happened when she worked with the cute ones. They always were the greediest, the ones willing to endanger people that they barely even knew just because they thought they were God’s gift. Or they had a problem keeping their fucking hands off of her. She shouldn’t have expected Simon to be different.
“Why don’t you just shut that pretty little mouth of yours and let me do this.”
She felt his hair against her inner thigh, softly rubbing higher as his nose pushed to inch up her skirt. She opened her legs a bit farther for him, thanking anyone who happened to be listening that they were in a darkened room and he couldn’t clearly view her goods in the territory that he was exploring. Rule one. Something about mixing business with…
She bit her tongue to suppress the gasp that surfaced when he reached the snap of the sheath on her thigh and brushed his teeth against her skin while opening it. She felt everything in too much detail as he sat so close; the wisps of hair that rasped against her nether lips, his breath so soft and warm as it touched so high on her leg, his teeth and tongue, both working to remove the dagger that she had stored in the leather pouch.
What a time to feel the full effects of not having been laid in so long.
“I can’t get the fucking thing out,” he growled, resting his forehead against her skin.
She chuckled and was embarrassed immediately. Strange. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had laughed. He lifted his head and looked at her in the dark.
“Now what is so bloody funny?” he asked with a bite of coldness. “I’m beginning to think that you don’t appreciate the full extent of talent it takes to remove a damn dagger with one’s teeth while bleeding all over the God damn floor.”
He was mad. Now that was laughable, considering that neither one of them would have even been in this predicament if his greed hadn’t driven him to take the time to retrieve the stupid, albeit beautiful, pouch of diamonds in a hidden compartment of the safe. She took a deep breath, smelled the metallic scent of blood and felt the pinch in her right side, both reminders of some of what it took for them to overtake their captors.
“No,” she cleared her throat, trying to keep from laughing again. “I was just thinking how long I’ve waited to have a man’s head between my legs again, and now that it’s finally happened, it’s nowhere near as pleasurable as I’d envisioned.”
His head thumped against her leg and she felt his mouth curl in a smile against her skin. “Funny, I was just thinking how the exact opposite of that scenario will be precisely what I need when I get out of here.”
“So we’re both incorrigible,” she shrugged, feeling the dagger slowly slide out of the sheath. “Now give me the dagger and use the spike from my boot over in that guy’s neck to cut your ropes. I wanna get the fuck out of here.”
He wasn’t prepared to face the full extent of her abilities.
“Shit!” he spit out between his teeth. “How is it you have access to everything to stitch me up except for a local or even a God damn Tylenol?” He winced as she meticulously poked and pulled the thread through, working on closing the second knife wound in his stomach. Shit, the fucker burned.
He took a swig off of the fifth of cheap ass vodka, and gulped down the horrid, searing liquid. It should have stopped some of the pain, but he ached everywhere. His stomach slashed, his shoulder that she’d had to shove back into the joint, his face all bloodied and bruised.
Then again, he thought as he looked at the purplish marks that painted her swollen face and the clotted cut on her lower lip, maybe he shouldn’t be totally concerned with himself. Maybe the repeated blows that she had taken to her torso, face, and back should at least warrant a passing thought of something besides his own pain. He flashed back to the visual of watching Julia launch her metal-plated boot-How had she worked that off her foot? he wondered-into the guard’s neck. Of hearing the gurgle of blood leaking as it ruptured his jugular. And felt a funny pang of… regret?
Maybe he should have rethought the diamonds.
She reached into her small black purse, and pulled out a medicine bottle. He looked at her, then the bottle, then back at her. Unbelievable.
“What?” she asked as she popped the top. “You never asked.”
Shortly after that he felt better. After an incredibly long shower that, in combination with the Percocet and liquor, relaxed nearly every fiber in his body. His body hummed, vibrated with a dull numbness.
He looked at his pale reflection in the warped bathroom mirror, seeing the lumps and abrasions that were a reminder of how close they had come to never leaving the office building. He couldn’t say the rest of the group had fared as well. The other two on the team had met their demise moments before he and Julia were due to. He was alive though, battered and in so much fucking pain, but alive indeed.
“Greed,” he mused, tightening the shabby towel provided by the second-rate motel around his waist. He shoved away the twinge of feeling that he couldn’t-no, didn’t want-to name. “Can’t say I haven’t done worse for less.”
He knew what emotions he couldn’t afford to feel-compassion, regret, inferiority, any and all weakness. Those had all been stripped from him starting when… well that was a long time ago. Wincing as he walked, his tightened stomach muscles pulling and pinching with each step, he reached the door leading back into the one bed hellhole. His body was craving a warm and comfortable bed. And sleep. Definitely sleep.
He had to force the door open, practically jerking the ruined thing from its hinges, and then cautiously stepped in. His eyes rushed to adjust to the dimness surrounding him, the room barely lit by a single large candle on the table near the bed. Warm and comfortable bed, reverberated inside his head. All that was needed. Oh and sleep.
He looked in the direction of his destination and couldn’t take another step.
Oh yes.
Greed had always had its way with him, causing him to want and want and take and take at any cost. Greed could be dangerous at times, murderous, weighing on the conscience that he tried so hard to not think about. He hated that about greed. Hated the loss of control that he sometimes experienced over the outcome that sometimes came when acquiring whatever it was that he wanted at that moment.
But this? He could handle this.
She lay on her back in the center of the bed, elbows propping her up, knees bent, wearing a mix of black, dark purple, shades of light green and a bit of red. Funny how he noticed the lesser used color black that was her underwear over all of the other colors when he first walked in the room. The colors of bruising and clotted blood that covered most of her body and face barely even made an impression. To him she was still as lovely as she had been when she’d walked into the bar earlier.
And the sweetest thing about this entire scene-well, besides the topless woman who lay waiting in the bed-was that he could manipulate. This feeling that burned in him-spiking his blood with enough fervor to speed out to every single one of his erogenous zones, only to come slamming back into his cock like a Mack truck. This he could control enough to get the outcome that he desired. Oh yes.
Lust. Lust was made for him to handle.
“I’m wired,” she murmured, sliding her index finger down her throat, in between the pert breasts he’d wanted to free only hours before, down to her navel, and finally, finally ending by tracing over what he suspected to be the line of her entry. Even though her legs were bent and the skimpiest pair of black panties he’d seen in some time covered them, the lips that called out to him without speaking were definitely there.
“And what, dear Julia, do you have in mind to alleviate this… problem?” He kept the excitement that always preceded fucking a beautiful woman clear from his face. Never betray. Never stay. Two rules to live by.
She took her hand from in between her legs and placed it on her knee. He watched as that lucky hand pushed her leg to fall out to the side, leaving her how he wanted her. Exposed.
Well, he thought briefly of the warm and comfortable plan-especially the sleeping part-one out of three wasn’t so bad.
“Crotchless?” he arched his brow after his eyes caught the gap.
She smiled to seduce, and did her job superbly. “No panty lines.”
“Ah,” he choked out, feeling his throat constricting at the exquisite sight, almost to the point of not being able to continue. His body began to crumble the longer he stared; he just couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her. Clearing his throat he finally spoke again, “I think pink is definitely your color, babe.”
“Funny,” she cocked her head slightly to the side, tracing up the inside of her thigh with red fingernails. “I was thinking about how much better pink would look with you in it.”
She wasn’t prepared for the unfamiliar current that ran through her body after their close call.
Was he just going to stand there, gawking? An invitation that she rarely ever sent out-written, stamped, and delivered quite blatantly she might add-sat waiting for him, needing for him to be hard and inside her right now, and he wanted to be a looky-loo?
This need in her was starting to get more uncomfortable with each second that passed. It wasn’t bad enough that she had gone without any sort of intimate contact with a man in God knows how long. Sex wasn’t something that she really thought she’d needed. Oh it was a nice reprieve from her everyday life, fulfilled that part of her that needed a moment of elation, but sex had never been something that consumed, swallowed, ate whole and spat back out. Until now.
And she swore to herself that this consumption had nothing to do with the fact that she had almost been killed tonight.
Come here, she told him with a slight lift of her head, and sure enough it was what he needed to start his way over to her. She relaxed some, but she needed more. He stopped when his knees hit the bed, the towel loosely wrapped around his waist shifting just enough to show the start of the coarse black hair leading to the point that held her attention.
“I have to say the high recommendations that I received from your previous associates do not supersede you, Julia.”
She looked up from the strain in the towel at the sound of his husky voice, her clouded mind taking a little while to translate what he said. Her tongue flicked out over her lower lip, bending the lip over her teeth.
“Well Simon, that’s a great bit of news,” she replied in a voice as raspy as his, sitting up enough to reach out for his towel. “And now that it’s out in the open, I highly recommend you come over here and fuck me.”
She expected him to say something, guys like him always did like to have the last word-but to her surprise and relief he didn’t. He just watched through heavy lidded eyes as her fingers slipped into the waist of the towel, unhooking the fold, and letting the towel drop from his body.
And before the towel even hit the floor, he was groaning, her lips and tongue finding his bulbous head, swirling and tasting before they covered and sucked. She took slow deep strokes at first up and down his shaft, then graduated to hard and fast over his length, tongue and teeth adding to it all. Her mouth created the rhythm that the molten heat between her legs craved, and she could only hope that he was a quick study.
“Ah fuck,” he growled, hands tight in her hair, lightly pushing and pulling her to move as though she needed help.
She knew how he felt. Having him swollen and alive in her mouth was the best precursor to what she really needed tonight. It sent waves of heat swimming, lap after lap through her very aware body, only to pool back between her legs. Release was needed, from the sexual build-up and the remainder of adrenaline that a near-death experience brought. And as she circled her tongue around the head of him, one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft and the other gently massaging his sac, he warned her of his.
His hands gripped her hair and forced her lips from him. She smiled inside, knowing what was coming, but looked up at him with a mild look of confusion. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, his breathing just slightly more off than hers.
He smiled, playful yet sardonic at the same time-he could pull it off.
“Lay back,” he commanded.
She dragged her body back to the middle of the bed, lying back as he lowered to his knees on the mattress. His hand reached out to rest on her hip, and she saw the rippled reaction of muscle flexing up his arm, on his chest. The hot spot at the apex of her legs throbbed at the sight. He threw his leg over to straddle both of hers, and his other hand found her nipple, pinching, rolling, until the peaks felt tender. She moaned, it felt so good.
“You better be prepared to come, babe,” he whispered as his hot mouth replaced his rough fingers on her breast. “I’m more than half cocked already, and am not feeling a bit like slowing it down.”
In answer, she pulled his face up to hers, slamming their lips together.
He nudged her legs apart with his knee as he slid over her, hips forcefully rocking against the hottest part of her desire as he pushed inside the slick opening of her body.
And slid inside just like a bullet in the chamber. The feeling so hard and familiar and just what she’d needed after the job.
They moaned simultaneously once he stroked enough in her wetness to bury himself to the hilt.
He looked down at her, face slack with wanting this, with feeling the same sensations of being completely joined that she did. He stayed there for a moment, letting her body adjust to his thickness before slowly sliding out to the point they stayed connected only by his plump head, and then ramming his dick back in.
Ah yes.
It was like a lust shot to the brain every time he thrust into her, each one building and building in their ferociousness. She clung to him as he moved, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, arms tight around his neck as they kissed. He might have said something about being half cocked, but he sure felt full inside her.
She sucked in her breath as he grabbed her ass, tilting her hips enough to pound in and ram her cervix. God, she was going to explode.
“You better get yours soon,” he told her as he broke the kiss to lick down to her neck. His pace more frenzied, body so tight, everything between them so wet.
And as if right on cue, her body burst with the strength of dislodging that bullet in the chamber. The pleasure of releasing all of that fear, pain, uncertainty, and gobs of hunger for a good lay, whipped through her body at a maddening pace. She was shaking, panting, still thrusting her hips up to meet his like she wanted more.
But almost abruptly, he pulled out of her without finishing. Her body protested when she felt the absence of him inside of her. Her hips moved against his in an attempt to get him back inside, and when he instead pressed his hardness between her soft folds of feminine flesh outside the area that burned to take him in, she looked into his eyes with question.
“No condom,” he gritted out between his teeth, and her body went still. He stroked his erection along the slippery length of her cleft, once, twice.
Then, with a guttural grunt, he spilled himself against her lower stomach.
Neither one was expecting to like it so much.
He watched her dress from the lone chair in the room-the wrinkled black bustier and skirt fitting again just like a glove-and even though he was sated after a healthy round of morning sex, something within him stirred. He wished it were only his dick.
She was his equal in every way, witty, intelligent, swift, cold, and emotionally distant. Well, except for his greed thing. And brawn and beauty? She had it in spades. The woman not only looked like perfection, she could fuck the socks off a cat.
He watched as she zipped up her boots, the left one having no trace of blood left on it after she’d cleaned it, and followed her with his gaze as she rose off of the bed. This was dangerous and he knew it. Most of the people that he worked with were expendable, and they usually were tossed once used. That way no one had the chance to gather too much information. It was better for everyone involved and he knew that, too. So, why did this one thought worm its way down to sit on the tip of his tongue?
He did have some more jobs lined up…
She knew that he was contemplating something. Just by the way he eyed her as she stalked across the room to toss her tattered nylons in the garbage can. It wasn’t the look of a lover wanting to ravish her on the bed.
Well, not entirely that kind of look anyway.
She had five minutes before she needed to leave if she was going to meet her contact, and if he didn’t speak in one, she was gone. Giving him the hint, she picked up her purse, threw it over her shoulder and moved towards the door. And just as she reached the doorknob, she heard the rustle of clothing as he stood.
“Julia,” he called out.
She turned her head around and saw him standing, his black jacket in hand. It hung on the tips of his fingers as he extended his arm for her to take it. She looked plainly at the jacket and then at him, her head cocking to the side in question.
He stepped closer to her as he spoke. “It’ll help cover up the bruising and keep the questions to a minimum.”
She nodded and held her hand out to accept the token, but he surprised her by holding the coat open for her. She wrapped herself in it and after he smoothed the black leather over her shoulders, his hands lingered and warmed her skin. He brought his lips close to her ear, and she could feel his breath teasing just inside.
“I figure you can give it back to me next week.”
She glanced behind her, seeing his face so close. “Next week?”
“Kuala Lumpur. I’m in need of your services again.”
She smiled at him as she turned the knob and opened the motel room door. Inside, she was laughing at the exact extent these services now stretched to. Facing sideways, her free hand reached up and caressed one cheek while she leaned in to kiss the other. She pulled back and wiped off the blotch of red her lipstick left behind.
Stepping outside into the early morning heat, she playfully shouted to him over her shoulder. “I’ll call you.”
Thanks trixalicious for coming up with this challenge. Can't wait to read more of the 2years missing fic.
Title: Algeria
Author: CG
Feedback: Would love to hear what you have to say. If criticism, please make it constructive.
Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, and is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot productions.
Spoilers: None that I know of.
Summary: My take on the night they first met in Algeria.
Ship: Simon/Julia
Rating: NC-17 for adult situations.
Classification: Kind of PWP
**A/N - Thanks to Fawkes, Gracie, and ageofaquarius for betas and help.
The first time he met her she piqued more than his interest.
“Julia, is it?” he inquired of the blonde before him, purposely using his heavy accent to seductively slur his words. His eyes were fixed on the spillover of her breasts which, in his opinion perfectly fit the cups of her black leather bustier. “It’s a pleasure to meet someone of such…” he slid his gaze down to the matching leather skirt that wrapped around her hips like a second skin. “High caliber.”
He took a pull of his warm beer, still keeping his eyes on her body. Just below the hemline on her uppermost thigh, a hint of black lace from her stockings peeked out. When he reached the pointed toe of her stiletto boot, he nodded, showing his appreciation of what he saw. Like he would to a potential love interest. Or a prostitute.
As he trailed his eyes back up her taut body, he stopped again at her breasts, marveling at the contraption holding them in so tightly. And also wondering what it would take to spring them free. Thinking about the different tools he could use to rip the leather to shreds, he didn’t notice her finger hooking under his chin, raising his head to meet her eyes.
He finally took notice of her face as she forced his gaze up. Beautiful beyond compare, red lips curled so sweetly, with such charm. He almost smiled back until he took a closer look and saw a startling contrast. The sweet, sweet smile was a lie; the truth was in her eyes. Eyes that were cold, hard, and devoid of feeling.
“Most men who act like you don’t live to see anything north of the tits.” She spoke so quietly, and with the same lack of feeling that dulled her eyes, but her smile never wavered.
Keeping himself as still as stone, he pulled off his beer again, paying no mind to the droplets left on his lower lip. A normal man would be appalled at his behavior thus far, he figured, but really what did she expect? Coming into a joint this rough, wearing clothing fit to arouse the entire place for a week. Why should she be comfortable when everyone else in the room likely had a hard on that could pound stone?
“You come highly recommended.” He kept his confident stance and it carried into his voice. Then his eyes betrayed him, shifting to take a look at her mouth as it curved more seductively when she caught him staring.
“I do,” she said lowly while she traced the line of his lower lip with her thumb, catching the drops of beer as she did. “Come,” she breathed, almost low enough to be a moan, as she removed her thumb and sucked it in between her pouty lips. His lower body throbbed, just imagining what those lips and that tongue could do. She slid it back out and her eyelids lowered, now making her look almost like a wet dream he’d had last week. “Very highly recommended.”
They stared at each other, him not showing any of the heat that flowed through his body, and her…
She bared her teeth, opening them just enough to bite on her blood red fingernail. All coy and flirting at the same time, everything about her making him like her even more.
“Brilliant!” he shouted as he slammed his palm down on the wooden table, attracting a small amount of attention. He looked around at his mates, two of the other guys hired for the job tonight. “I like her. Come. Sit. Have a drink.”
He pulled her out a chair, his mind occupied by her skirt as it hiked even further up her leg when she sat. Bloody hot fucking legs.
No doubt about it. This was going to be some job.
The first time she met him, she was less than impressed. Well, at the beginning that was…
“Pompous bastard!” she seethed quietly between clenched teeth, a combination of pain and fury filling her. “What the fuck were you thinking, going back for the diamonds? We were paid to get the bullion and assassinate Pinchot. You can’t just deviate from the plan at your own fucking will!”
The chair that she was tied to shifted as she heard him shuffle closer to her on his knees. One thing after another, it seemed, happened when she worked with the cute ones. They always were the greediest, the ones willing to endanger people that they barely even knew just because they thought they were God’s gift. Or they had a problem keeping their fucking hands off of her. She shouldn’t have expected Simon to be different.
“Why don’t you just shut that pretty little mouth of yours and let me do this.”
She felt his hair against her inner thigh, softly rubbing higher as his nose pushed to inch up her skirt. She opened her legs a bit farther for him, thanking anyone who happened to be listening that they were in a darkened room and he couldn’t clearly view her goods in the territory that he was exploring. Rule one. Something about mixing business with…
She bit her tongue to suppress the gasp that surfaced when he reached the snap of the sheath on her thigh and brushed his teeth against her skin while opening it. She felt everything in too much detail as he sat so close; the wisps of hair that rasped against her nether lips, his breath so soft and warm as it touched so high on her leg, his teeth and tongue, both working to remove the dagger that she had stored in the leather pouch.
What a time to feel the full effects of not having been laid in so long.
“I can’t get the fucking thing out,” he growled, resting his forehead against her skin.
She chuckled and was embarrassed immediately. Strange. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had laughed. He lifted his head and looked at her in the dark.
“Now what is so bloody funny?” he asked with a bite of coldness. “I’m beginning to think that you don’t appreciate the full extent of talent it takes to remove a damn dagger with one’s teeth while bleeding all over the God damn floor.”
He was mad. Now that was laughable, considering that neither one of them would have even been in this predicament if his greed hadn’t driven him to take the time to retrieve the stupid, albeit beautiful, pouch of diamonds in a hidden compartment of the safe. She took a deep breath, smelled the metallic scent of blood and felt the pinch in her right side, both reminders of some of what it took for them to overtake their captors.
“No,” she cleared her throat, trying to keep from laughing again. “I was just thinking how long I’ve waited to have a man’s head between my legs again, and now that it’s finally happened, it’s nowhere near as pleasurable as I’d envisioned.”
His head thumped against her leg and she felt his mouth curl in a smile against her skin. “Funny, I was just thinking how the exact opposite of that scenario will be precisely what I need when I get out of here.”
“So we’re both incorrigible,” she shrugged, feeling the dagger slowly slide out of the sheath. “Now give me the dagger and use the spike from my boot over in that guy’s neck to cut your ropes. I wanna get the fuck out of here.”
He wasn’t prepared to face the full extent of her abilities.
“Shit!” he spit out between his teeth. “How is it you have access to everything to stitch me up except for a local or even a God damn Tylenol?” He winced as she meticulously poked and pulled the thread through, working on closing the second knife wound in his stomach. Shit, the fucker burned.
He took a swig off of the fifth of cheap ass vodka, and gulped down the horrid, searing liquid. It should have stopped some of the pain, but he ached everywhere. His stomach slashed, his shoulder that she’d had to shove back into the joint, his face all bloodied and bruised.
Then again, he thought as he looked at the purplish marks that painted her swollen face and the clotted cut on her lower lip, maybe he shouldn’t be totally concerned with himself. Maybe the repeated blows that she had taken to her torso, face, and back should at least warrant a passing thought of something besides his own pain. He flashed back to the visual of watching Julia launch her metal-plated boot-How had she worked that off her foot? he wondered-into the guard’s neck. Of hearing the gurgle of blood leaking as it ruptured his jugular. And felt a funny pang of… regret?
Maybe he should have rethought the diamonds.
She reached into her small black purse, and pulled out a medicine bottle. He looked at her, then the bottle, then back at her. Unbelievable.
“What?” she asked as she popped the top. “You never asked.”
Shortly after that he felt better. After an incredibly long shower that, in combination with the Percocet and liquor, relaxed nearly every fiber in his body. His body hummed, vibrated with a dull numbness.
He looked at his pale reflection in the warped bathroom mirror, seeing the lumps and abrasions that were a reminder of how close they had come to never leaving the office building. He couldn’t say the rest of the group had fared as well. The other two on the team had met their demise moments before he and Julia were due to. He was alive though, battered and in so much fucking pain, but alive indeed.
“Greed,” he mused, tightening the shabby towel provided by the second-rate motel around his waist. He shoved away the twinge of feeling that he couldn’t-no, didn’t want-to name. “Can’t say I haven’t done worse for less.”
He knew what emotions he couldn’t afford to feel-compassion, regret, inferiority, any and all weakness. Those had all been stripped from him starting when… well that was a long time ago. Wincing as he walked, his tightened stomach muscles pulling and pinching with each step, he reached the door leading back into the one bed hellhole. His body was craving a warm and comfortable bed. And sleep. Definitely sleep.
He had to force the door open, practically jerking the ruined thing from its hinges, and then cautiously stepped in. His eyes rushed to adjust to the dimness surrounding him, the room barely lit by a single large candle on the table near the bed. Warm and comfortable bed, reverberated inside his head. All that was needed. Oh and sleep.
He looked in the direction of his destination and couldn’t take another step.
Oh yes.
Greed had always had its way with him, causing him to want and want and take and take at any cost. Greed could be dangerous at times, murderous, weighing on the conscience that he tried so hard to not think about. He hated that about greed. Hated the loss of control that he sometimes experienced over the outcome that sometimes came when acquiring whatever it was that he wanted at that moment.
But this? He could handle this.
She lay on her back in the center of the bed, elbows propping her up, knees bent, wearing a mix of black, dark purple, shades of light green and a bit of red. Funny how he noticed the lesser used color black that was her underwear over all of the other colors when he first walked in the room. The colors of bruising and clotted blood that covered most of her body and face barely even made an impression. To him she was still as lovely as she had been when she’d walked into the bar earlier.
And the sweetest thing about this entire scene-well, besides the topless woman who lay waiting in the bed-was that he could manipulate. This feeling that burned in him-spiking his blood with enough fervor to speed out to every single one of his erogenous zones, only to come slamming back into his cock like a Mack truck. This he could control enough to get the outcome that he desired. Oh yes.
Lust. Lust was made for him to handle.
“I’m wired,” she murmured, sliding her index finger down her throat, in between the pert breasts he’d wanted to free only hours before, down to her navel, and finally, finally ending by tracing over what he suspected to be the line of her entry. Even though her legs were bent and the skimpiest pair of black panties he’d seen in some time covered them, the lips that called out to him without speaking were definitely there.
“And what, dear Julia, do you have in mind to alleviate this… problem?” He kept the excitement that always preceded fucking a beautiful woman clear from his face. Never betray. Never stay. Two rules to live by.
She took her hand from in between her legs and placed it on her knee. He watched as that lucky hand pushed her leg to fall out to the side, leaving her how he wanted her. Exposed.
Well, he thought briefly of the warm and comfortable plan-especially the sleeping part-one out of three wasn’t so bad.
“Crotchless?” he arched his brow after his eyes caught the gap.
She smiled to seduce, and did her job superbly. “No panty lines.”
“Ah,” he choked out, feeling his throat constricting at the exquisite sight, almost to the point of not being able to continue. His body began to crumble the longer he stared; he just couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her. Clearing his throat he finally spoke again, “I think pink is definitely your color, babe.”
“Funny,” she cocked her head slightly to the side, tracing up the inside of her thigh with red fingernails. “I was thinking about how much better pink would look with you in it.”
She wasn’t prepared for the unfamiliar current that ran through her body after their close call.
Was he just going to stand there, gawking? An invitation that she rarely ever sent out-written, stamped, and delivered quite blatantly she might add-sat waiting for him, needing for him to be hard and inside her right now, and he wanted to be a looky-loo?
This need in her was starting to get more uncomfortable with each second that passed. It wasn’t bad enough that she had gone without any sort of intimate contact with a man in God knows how long. Sex wasn’t something that she really thought she’d needed. Oh it was a nice reprieve from her everyday life, fulfilled that part of her that needed a moment of elation, but sex had never been something that consumed, swallowed, ate whole and spat back out. Until now.
And she swore to herself that this consumption had nothing to do with the fact that she had almost been killed tonight.
Come here, she told him with a slight lift of her head, and sure enough it was what he needed to start his way over to her. She relaxed some, but she needed more. He stopped when his knees hit the bed, the towel loosely wrapped around his waist shifting just enough to show the start of the coarse black hair leading to the point that held her attention.
“I have to say the high recommendations that I received from your previous associates do not supersede you, Julia.”
She looked up from the strain in the towel at the sound of his husky voice, her clouded mind taking a little while to translate what he said. Her tongue flicked out over her lower lip, bending the lip over her teeth.
“Well Simon, that’s a great bit of news,” she replied in a voice as raspy as his, sitting up enough to reach out for his towel. “And now that it’s out in the open, I highly recommend you come over here and fuck me.”
She expected him to say something, guys like him always did like to have the last word-but to her surprise and relief he didn’t. He just watched through heavy lidded eyes as her fingers slipped into the waist of the towel, unhooking the fold, and letting the towel drop from his body.
And before the towel even hit the floor, he was groaning, her lips and tongue finding his bulbous head, swirling and tasting before they covered and sucked. She took slow deep strokes at first up and down his shaft, then graduated to hard and fast over his length, tongue and teeth adding to it all. Her mouth created the rhythm that the molten heat between her legs craved, and she could only hope that he was a quick study.
“Ah fuck,” he growled, hands tight in her hair, lightly pushing and pulling her to move as though she needed help.
She knew how he felt. Having him swollen and alive in her mouth was the best precursor to what she really needed tonight. It sent waves of heat swimming, lap after lap through her very aware body, only to pool back between her legs. Release was needed, from the sexual build-up and the remainder of adrenaline that a near-death experience brought. And as she circled her tongue around the head of him, one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft and the other gently massaging his sac, he warned her of his.
His hands gripped her hair and forced her lips from him. She smiled inside, knowing what was coming, but looked up at him with a mild look of confusion. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, his breathing just slightly more off than hers.
He smiled, playful yet sardonic at the same time-he could pull it off.
“Lay back,” he commanded.
She dragged her body back to the middle of the bed, lying back as he lowered to his knees on the mattress. His hand reached out to rest on her hip, and she saw the rippled reaction of muscle flexing up his arm, on his chest. The hot spot at the apex of her legs throbbed at the sight. He threw his leg over to straddle both of hers, and his other hand found her nipple, pinching, rolling, until the peaks felt tender. She moaned, it felt so good.
“You better be prepared to come, babe,” he whispered as his hot mouth replaced his rough fingers on her breast. “I’m more than half cocked already, and am not feeling a bit like slowing it down.”
In answer, she pulled his face up to hers, slamming their lips together.
He nudged her legs apart with his knee as he slid over her, hips forcefully rocking against the hottest part of her desire as he pushed inside the slick opening of her body.
And slid inside just like a bullet in the chamber. The feeling so hard and familiar and just what she’d needed after the job.
They moaned simultaneously once he stroked enough in her wetness to bury himself to the hilt.
He looked down at her, face slack with wanting this, with feeling the same sensations of being completely joined that she did. He stayed there for a moment, letting her body adjust to his thickness before slowly sliding out to the point they stayed connected only by his plump head, and then ramming his dick back in.
Ah yes.
It was like a lust shot to the brain every time he thrust into her, each one building and building in their ferociousness. She clung to him as he moved, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, arms tight around his neck as they kissed. He might have said something about being half cocked, but he sure felt full inside her.
She sucked in her breath as he grabbed her ass, tilting her hips enough to pound in and ram her cervix. God, she was going to explode.
“You better get yours soon,” he told her as he broke the kiss to lick down to her neck. His pace more frenzied, body so tight, everything between them so wet.
And as if right on cue, her body burst with the strength of dislodging that bullet in the chamber. The pleasure of releasing all of that fear, pain, uncertainty, and gobs of hunger for a good lay, whipped through her body at a maddening pace. She was shaking, panting, still thrusting her hips up to meet his like she wanted more.
But almost abruptly, he pulled out of her without finishing. Her body protested when she felt the absence of him inside of her. Her hips moved against his in an attempt to get him back inside, and when he instead pressed his hardness between her soft folds of feminine flesh outside the area that burned to take him in, she looked into his eyes with question.
“No condom,” he gritted out between his teeth, and her body went still. He stroked his erection along the slippery length of her cleft, once, twice.
Then, with a guttural grunt, he spilled himself against her lower stomach.
Neither one was expecting to like it so much.
He watched her dress from the lone chair in the room-the wrinkled black bustier and skirt fitting again just like a glove-and even though he was sated after a healthy round of morning sex, something within him stirred. He wished it were only his dick.
She was his equal in every way, witty, intelligent, swift, cold, and emotionally distant. Well, except for his greed thing. And brawn and beauty? She had it in spades. The woman not only looked like perfection, she could fuck the socks off a cat.
He watched as she zipped up her boots, the left one having no trace of blood left on it after she’d cleaned it, and followed her with his gaze as she rose off of the bed. This was dangerous and he knew it. Most of the people that he worked with were expendable, and they usually were tossed once used. That way no one had the chance to gather too much information. It was better for everyone involved and he knew that, too. So, why did this one thought worm its way down to sit on the tip of his tongue?
He did have some more jobs lined up…
She knew that he was contemplating something. Just by the way he eyed her as she stalked across the room to toss her tattered nylons in the garbage can. It wasn’t the look of a lover wanting to ravish her on the bed.
Well, not entirely that kind of look anyway.
She had five minutes before she needed to leave if she was going to meet her contact, and if he didn’t speak in one, she was gone. Giving him the hint, she picked up her purse, threw it over her shoulder and moved towards the door. And just as she reached the doorknob, she heard the rustle of clothing as he stood.
“Julia,” he called out.
She turned her head around and saw him standing, his black jacket in hand. It hung on the tips of his fingers as he extended his arm for her to take it. She looked plainly at the jacket and then at him, her head cocking to the side in question.
He stepped closer to her as he spoke. “It’ll help cover up the bruising and keep the questions to a minimum.”
She nodded and held her hand out to accept the token, but he surprised her by holding the coat open for her. She wrapped herself in it and after he smoothed the black leather over her shoulders, his hands lingered and warmed her skin. He brought his lips close to her ear, and she could feel his breath teasing just inside.
“I figure you can give it back to me next week.”
She glanced behind her, seeing his face so close. “Next week?”
“Kuala Lumpur. I’m in need of your services again.”
She smiled at him as she turned the knob and opened the motel room door. Inside, she was laughing at the exact extent these services now stretched to. Facing sideways, her free hand reached up and caressed one cheek while she leaned in to kiss the other. She pulled back and wiped off the blotch of red her lipstick left behind.
Stepping outside into the early morning heat, she playfully shouted to him over her shoulder. “I’ll call you.”