Even If the Sky is Falling, page 17
“And what’s your outfit called? Castro’s Cuties? Havana’s Honeypots?”
“How incredibly offensive, Agent Roberts,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I’d hate to think that’s how you view women.”
Nick narrowed his eyes as he rubbed his chin. “My apologies, Ms. Perez.”
“Ms. Parsons.”
“I tailed you to the café where you meet with Mateo.”
Shea crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Nick leaned with his forearms against his knees, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her skirt. “It was raining when you rushed across Dupont Circle. You wore a dress, not unlike the one you’re wearing today, except it was red. Because no matter how much you blend into your new American life, you can’t let go of your Communist past, can you?”
Shea’s eyes darted back to Nick in fascination as he spun his little tale. He was really getting into this... And she was getting more and more turned on. She imagined herself in Washington, DC, running through the rain, trying to look cool while looking for the next message from her handler, a dead drop under a park bench perhaps.
“You stopped on Connecticut Avenue, under an awning for The Newsroom. You shook out your umbrella and fluffed your curls in spite of the heavy humidity. Mateo chose The Newsroom, didn’t he? But you wanted something nicer, more upscale. A place as pretty as you. A bistro to eat small cakes and drink even smaller cups of espresso. But you go where he tells you to go...where the syndicate tells you to go. Sometimes he meets you inside with a cold sandwich and stale coffee. Other times, he just leaves you messages in Le Monde. But he didn’t meet you, or leave a message yesterday.”
Fully wrapped up in Nick’s story, Shea found herself leaning forward. “What happened to Mateo?”
Nick
Yes, what happened to Mateo, indeed... Nick didn’t know where he was going with this diatribe, but he loved how into it Shea appeared. Her expression was full of wonder and curiosity as he described his favorite convenience store in Washington, DC. Years back, when he went to Howard, he stopped at The Newsroom to pick up a number of international magazines and newspapers. And while he didn’t read French, he still picked up a copy of Le Monde for him and his Senegalese roommate to pour over.
It shocked him how easy it felt to slip into another character. He loved how she just fell into the game as well. After all the books he’d thumbed through, it made perfect sense for Shea to be a Cuban spy. She was certainly gorgeous enough to be a femme fatale moonlighting as a secretary.
“Mateo is dead.”
Shea’s eyes widened, but he could tell she searched her mind for her next line. She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in resignation. “Was it you?” she asked.
Nick shook his head. “No. Believe it or not, Langley didn’t take him out.”
“But Langley offered him a deal, right?” she asked, leaning forward. “And you’re going to offer me the same deal, Agent Roberts.”
“Is that a question or a demand?”
“It’s reality,” Shea replied in a dry tone. “Mateo was a double agent, and apparently not a good one. He had been here longer than I, but got soft and enjoyed the comforts your decadent nation offered. The fact that no one from home has informed me of his now...vacated post, leads me to believe I’m next.” She looked him up and down with a shrewd gaze that made Nick shockingly hard.
Goddamn... He could imagine her in some sparsely furnished safe house, going over her options in her head, while inching her way toward a hidden revolver. Nick was so preoccupied with the thought of her trying to kill him for Castro, he almost didn’t hear her speak.
“Isn’t that what you believe?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts. “Isn’t that why I’m here?”
Nick danced his fingertips along the fabric hugging her thighs. He imagined untying her dress at the waist like a ribbon on a present, unwrapping what he most desired. Shea let out a soft exhale and leaned back on his mattress as his hand moved to the hem at her knees. “You think I have a deal to offer you?”
“I hate repeating myself,” Shea said, letting her thighs fall open just a few inches. His hand slipped to the inside of her leg, stroking the soft skin at her knee. “I’ll take the same deal, plus the added bonus of citizenship and witness protection. I’ve been here too long and I can’t go back home. Mateo has now made that impossible.”
Nick tried not to stare at the way her hem rode up her thighs as she sat on his bed. He was still in character, he was supposed to interrogate her. But even he knew that the US government frowned upon an agent caressing the enemy’s legs. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop touching her. She was too soft, too inviting. “Ms. Perez—”
“—Vera.”
He met her gaze and licked his lips. The bunker suddenly felt very warm. He pulled at the collar of his T-shirt and cleared his throat. “Vera. What you’re asking for—what you want—is very serious.” Nick tested the waters by pushing forward. Sliding his palms upward until his fingers disappeared under her blue dress. “I can’t take your demands to my superiors without some assurances.”
Shea breathed deeply and let her head tip to her shoulder. Her eyes fell shut as his hands roamed freely. He could tell his touch was pulling her out of her character in a good way. It delighted him to see her loosened up, to hear her soft panting, to feel her warm skin. “How would you like me to assure you, Agent Roberts?” she asked with a sigh.
“Blue passports don’t come cheap,” he said in a low voice, hands pausing at the tops of her soft thighs.
She peeked at him with a suspicious look. “I assume the price is my body.”
Nick couldn’t help the startled laughter that escaped him. “Much as I’d love to have you tonight, I know better than to get mixed up with such a dangerous woman.” He was about to pull away, remove his hands to adjust his pants, but Shea reacted faster.
To his surprise, she held his hands in place, scooting closer to him and widening her knees between his. “I’m not that dangerous,” she said in a sweet voice.
“You could have a weapon on you right now.”
“Search me.”
His heart stuttered in his chest upon hearing her words. “Well, damn, girl...” he breathed, breaking character.
Shea blinked. “Too much?” she asked. An adorable frown wrinkled her nose.
“No, no.” He shook his head. “Hell no, Ms. Perez.”
Her smile returned. And that’s what Nick needed. The playacting they performed was lovely, quite exciting really, but her beautiful smile was something he desperately wanted to nurture and protect. After six months of learning tiny snippets of information about her, cobbling together her interests, he couldn’t believe where they were.
Alone and desperately wanting one another.
He was almost thankful for the Global Warning System, for the space debris hurtling toward the Earth.
Without thinking too hard, Nick gently pushed Shea back against the plush mattress and climbed the foot of the bed to kneel over her. She let out a small squeak as she grabbed him by the shirt. “You know what? You might be right. A careful search might not be a bad idea.”
“You’ll see that I’m not hiding anything,” Shea said with a bright smile. Her fingers splayed against his chest as she arched into his touch.
He ran his finger up the outside of her thigh, to the edges of her panties before chuckling. “You’re a Commie spy, my dear. Hiding is what you do best.”
Shea
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...
Shea wasn’t sure how long she could keep the Vera Perez act up. Not while Nick’s body covered hers. She could barely think of her next line when his large hands trailed up her hip, fingers slipping beneath her panties. They were finally in his bed, she was horny as hell and ready to give up anything just to get him out of his clothes. Thank god she wore the flimsy wraparound dress to his store. It tied off at the waist and all he needed to do was give it one swift yank.
Beneath Nick, she felt small and delicate and protected. She leaned into his gentle touch and urged him with her eyes to continue. But it did occur to her that she might need to give him more verbal cues to get the ball rolling. After all, this was only the first night they’d admitted their feelings to one another. Normally, some arbitrary amount of dating would have to occur before she invited someone to her bed.
Now look at her. It was the end of the world and she was a Cuban spy trying to seduce a federal agent.
Who could be this lucky?
“No weapons to hide,” she clarified. “Go ahead, Agent Roberts. Undress me if you must.”
Before he could respond, Shea quickly untied her dress. As she pulled it open, revealing her lacy black underwear set, she held her breath. Even as turned on as she was, a small bit of anxiety made her bite her lip. She may have been comfortable with her large breasts, stomach rolls and dimpled thighs...but Nick was new to the game. Shea hoped he appreciated her body as much as she did.
Nick rested on his side, right next to her, and let his hungry eyes rove down her body. “My, my, my, Ms. Perez. The United States appreciates your transparency.”
Shea narrowed her eyes. “Well, actually, the United States was never transparent while meddling in the progressive governments of Latin America—”
“No, no, Shea,” Nick murmured against her neck. “We’re not in the classroom right now. We’ll do that fantasy next time.”
“Oh, sorry!”
“Tonight, we’re blindly loyal to our nations,” he said, peeling her dress down her shoulders. “We’re seducing one another for state secrets. And I’m searching your gorgeous body for weapons.”
She grinned while pulling her arms out of her dress. “Right.”
As she shimmied the fabric down her waist, Shea realized she had nothing to worry about. Nick’s lusty stare seemed to do most of the undressing, leaving her short of breath and very hot. She inched herself away from him, moving closer to the headboard of the bed. Left in her underwear, Shea felt like a sex goddess summoning her most ardent devotee.
Nick quickly undressed, tossing his clothes to the floor as he went. When he was completely naked, he slowly crawled up the bed to meet her. Giving Shea enough time to admire how the taut muscles of his chest and arms flexed as he moved. The dim light of their setting cast shadows along the strong ridges of his belly. As her eyes drifted lower to the deep V at his hips, pointing directly to a long and thick erection, she fought to keep from trembling. The anticipation of riding him overwhelmed her too much, and pulled her right out of their game.
“Okay, I think I’m ready to fuck,” she said, unhooking her bra and yanking the straps down.
Her declaration didn’t slow his steady crawl toward her. “Are you sure?” he asked, chuckling. “You don’t have anything else in your character file?”
Shea shoved her panties to her ankles and kicked them to the floor. “We’re helping the Russians develop a bomb and our intended target is Kansas City.”
Nick took her by the back of the neck and pulled her into a crushing kiss, groaning against her mouth. “Jesus, that’s oddly specific.”
“It’s the first city I could think of,” she murmured as he pressed her against the headboard. His hands traveled all over her body, hoisting her thigh around his waist and squeezing her ass.
“We’d just destroy Cuba,” he said, grinding his hips against her.
Shea hissed from the pleasure of his dick sliding along the seam of her pussy. If she angled her hips just right, he could—oh god, there it was... Her clit sang in delight as she rubbed against his veined shaft. “Mutually assured destruction,” she gasped.
Nick continued thrusting while palming her breast, squeezing and stroking her stiff nipple. “God, Shea, you’re about to become my destruction.”
“I want you inside me right now,” she begged.
He pulled her away from the headboard and settled her onto his lap. It had been a while since she’d had sex in this position, but she was relieved that she’d been in control of how fast and deep Nick could penetrate. “How long have you been wanting to ride this dick?” he asked with a smirk.
“Longer than I’d like to admit,” she said, taking him in her fist.
He drew a shallow breath and closed his eyes while she stroked the length of him, teasing a restless groan from deep within his chest. “Shea...”
She’d put him out of his misery soon enough.
Raising herself above Nick, she sank onto him. The intrusion nearly unraveled her. Even a drenched pussy needed easing, and Shea was not in a hurry. Every inch she lowered herself on, stretched and rubbed the right spot, sending electric spirals of bliss throughout her body. Once she made it safely to the hilt, she felt Nick twitch inside of her, and rested her forehead against his.
“You feel like a dream,” he whispered, hooking a strong arm around her back. The movement pressed her breasts into his muscular chest and shifted her hips to take him even deeper. Shea almost came when he licked the tip of his thumb and applied it directly to her already wet clit. The small circles he rubbed pulled a ragged breath from her chest as she kissed his collarbone and up his neck.
Eventually, Shea rocked her hips and slid along his hardness. The sensations of his hands, lips and dick made her close her eyes and drift into a beautiful rhythm of up and down. She bounced on him until her thighs burned and her orgasm teetered on the edge. Shea reveled in his tight embrace, his firm thighs beneath hers...his dark brown eyes boring into hers as he thrust to meet her. He held her gaze even as his lips found her nipple. His tongue thrashed the sensitive bud until she shuddered.
“I don’t know—” she panted through the joyride on his lap “—how long I can last.”
“I’ve got you, baby,” Nick said, pushing her to her back.
When her head hit the pillows, she let out a content sigh. “Thank you.”
“I’ve got you,” he said, holding her knees apart, “and this pussy.”
She believed him. If ever there was a guy who would take care in pleasing her and her pussy, it was Nick. Shea felt desired and safe in his hands. His long strokes were steady, not erratic. While he loomed over her, he took his time and caressed every part of her, one hand planted beside her head while the other traversed a slow path from her neck down to her hip.
“Do that thing again,” she breathed.
He must have understood what she meant immediately because he licked his thumb again and pressed it to her throbbing clit.
“Yes,” she cried. “You fucking get it!”
Nick chuckled above her, still stroking her vagina lovingly. “I’m a photographer,” he said, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. His full lips traveled toward her collarbone so he could lick the hollow of her thrumming pulse. “I know how to watch and learn.”
She barely heard him over her own gasps and moans. His every thrust was a new shock to her system, pushing her closer to her own explosive release. She tried to grab at the edge before being shoved over the cliff, but Nick’s insistent tempo made it difficult to catch her breath, much less her orgasm. Shea hooked her ankles behind his back and met each thrust. “Yes, right there...”
She trailed off, once the pressure of an expanding universe felt like it bloomed within her womb, sending infinite gyres of pleasure throughout her body. She cried out and arched away from the bed, eyes squeezed shut and head thrashing about. Shea cried his name in a reverent prayer knowing that no one could hear her beneath the ground, in a concrete bunker. She had the freedom to unravel and come as loud as she wanted.
While she breathed through her lusty haze, Nick picked up speed, chasing his own pleasure in a series of short staccato thrusts. She opened her eyes and watched him assail her body with his passionate strength. The beautiful gleam of his sweat-soaked skin, his flared nostrils and corded muscles mesmerized her. This was not the mild-mannered man who stood behind the counter of The Page Turner bookstore. Nick was a man possessed by hunger. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she met the rapid rise and sink of his hips as best as she could. She held on to his thighs, following him toward his own powerful release.
He buried his face into her shoulder and he growled his surrender against her ear. The rumbling moan was like another welcomed vibration traveling through Shea’s body. “I’m a lucky man.” He sighed, settling his dead weight against her.
Shea wanted to agree with him, but she was too preoccupied with his heavy frame pressing her into the mattress. She hesitated to ask him to move because he felt like the greatest weighted blanket.
She felt lucky.
Nick shifted against her, pulling out and lifting his body away from her. She immediately felt his absence and it was kind of awful, but she didn’t protest. She lay in his bed wondering about what came next. After the drinks, after the games, what would be next for all of them?
Nick
Cuban spy.
College professor.
Vera Perez.
Shea Anderson.
It didn’t matter which version of the beautiful shy woman who special ordered his books was in his bed...she was there. And she contained multitudes. Nick wasn’t sure if she’d heard him when he said he was a lucky man, but he meant each word.
Even now, as he watched her lie beside him with one arm tossed over her head. Strategically shrouded in his sheets like a Black Venus, Shea rested serene and devastatingly gorgeous beside him. “You’re staring.”
It was true. He was. Unabashedly watching her through the viewfinder of his mind. Clicking away at her different positions. Her bare thigh, the top of her chest. All of her exposed walnut-brown skin contrasting against his crisp white sheets. Shea was a work of art he wanted to frame...or fuck. Nightly.
