Undercover secrets, p.11
Undercover Secrets, page 11
Anna told Mike about Simon. ‘He could be a useful ally,’ she said. ‘I’m going to his room, tonight. He’s got something on his mind and he wants to discuss it.’
‘Anna, I know you don’t want me to, but I’m going to say it again anyway. Be careful.’
‘Brilliant work. Well done.’
His praise warmed her, and she smiled. She wished she could touch him, wished she could see the thrill in his eyes. She felt a pang of longing in her stomach as she realised how much she liked him. She and Mike were perfect for each other: both intelligent, ambitious and driven by their work. But they were good together on another level, too, and something stirred deep inside her guts as she thought of the night they’d had together before she’d left for the Institute. As he said goodbye she closed her eyes, trapping his voice inside her mind. She longed to feel the heaviness of his chest bearing down on her as she lay beneath him. She longed to feel his thick limbs wrapped around hers, to smell the maleness of his skin and to hear him groan with effort.
But for now she had to put Mike out of her mind. There was another man waiting for her.
‘Simon?’ she whispered hoarsely outside room twenty-seven, tapping lightly on the door. ‘Simon!’
The door opened and he appeared. Poking his head out, he looked up and down the dark corridor. Smiling nervously, he pulled Anna inside.
Simon’s room was just like Anna’s, bland and functional. As she stepped inside she looked around, but there was nothing to see — no clues to his personality. Still, Simon’s personality was not the one in question here. It was Galloway who was the lynchpin and Simon, she suspected, was simply a pawn in Galloway’s grand scheme.
He sat down on the bed and looked up at Anna. For a moment there was silence, as they both admired the sight of each other out of uniform. Simon had on a tight white T-shirt and the navy tracksuit pants which were part of the male staff’s regulation clothing. He looked as if he spent most of his leisure time in the sports centre: beneath his clinging clothes he was lean and coated in just the right amount of muscle. His top was stretched tightly across his well-defined chest and his nipples were poking stiffly under the taut cotton. His dark-blond hair was ruffled and slightly damp, as if he was not long out of the shower. He looked clean and fresh, and real — the only real man in this strange, fake place.
Anna had on the black version of her usual tight-fitting dress, with matching underwear beneath and knee-length black boots. She looked sexy, she knew, and the way Simon’s eyes flittered over her said the same thing. The corners of his lips twitched upward along with his eyebrows. He patted the space beside him.
‘What did you want to talk to me about?’ she asked, sitting down.
Immediately, as if it were a reflex, Simon clamped his palm over Anna’s mouth. She flinched, and her eyes widened with surprise. Simon put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
Anna nodded her understanding, and slowly he took his hand away. Shuffling closer to her along the edge of the bed, he leant into her. His breath was hot in her ear. ‘We can’t talk freely,’ he whispered. ‘The walls are thin. If anyone found out I’d been discussing my research with a new recruit, I’d be in big trouble.’
Anna was puzzled. She put her mouth to Simon’s ear. ‘Why did you ask me here to talk then, if we can’t?’
‘I had no choice. This is the only place we can be alone together. We’ll just have to be very quiet.’
‘We’ll have to sit very close together.’
Anna nodded again, noticing the faint glimmer in his brown eyes. She suspected Simon would have wanted to sit close to her whether they had had to whisper or not. She copied him as he turned to face her. Their knees touched as he leant into her shoulder and brought his mouth right against her ear.
‘You look lovely,’ he said softly.
As he stayed still, poised by her ear, Anna studied the back of his neck. His hair was shorter there, and blonder. His neck looked warm and strong. His closeness was irresistible, and she slid her hand around the back of his head. ‘Is that what you wanted to tell me?’
‘No. But you do look lovely. You know you do.’
Her fingers tingled where she held him; the same place she’d held him earlier, in the lab, as his head had rolled in her lap. Anna closed her eyes and concentrated on what she was really there for. ‘So what did you want to discuss?’
He took a long deep breath, as if he too was caught up in the memory of before. ‘What you were saying today, about that experiment. It worried me.’
Her fingers ruffled upward into his hair. ‘The eye-colour thing?’
‘Yes.’ He put his hand to her shoulder and brought his head even closer to her. His lips touched her ear. ‘I’d been wondering about it myself. Why on earth would Peter ask me to replicate that particular gene? It just doesn’t make sense. But I’m afraid, until today, I’d pushed the whole subject to the back of my mind. I’m so happy here, you see. I didn’t want to have to think about anything which might… well, which might bring my work into question.’
Anna shivered as his mouth tickled her.
‘But then you started asking the same questions I’d been mulling over in my head. And all of a sudden I couldn’t ignore them any more. I’m worried, Anna. I feel I’m being used. You’re right — I shouldn’t be doing research unless I know what it’s for.’
She pushed her fingertips up through his hair, massaging his scalp, trying to soothe him. ‘I’m sure there’s a good reason. Why don’t you ask Peter?’
‘I already did. When I left you alone this afternoon, I went to his office. I asked him, straight out.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘Exactly what I thought he would. That the experiments I conduct don’t necessarily have a use now, but they may do in the future.’
‘And you’re not happy with that explanation?’
Simon shrugged. ‘I’ve been here three years, Anna. I know how this place works. Our research is among the most advanced in the world. We’ve got the best equipment, the best staff, the best technology. And all that costs money. A lot of money. I’m just not convinced that we’d embark upon expensive, time-consuming research, just in case it’s needed sometime in the future.’
A tiny, tight fist of anticipation gripped her stomach — partly because Simon’s lips had just brushed against her earlobe, and partly because she felt she was getting somewhere. She baited him. ‘But does it matter, Simon, when most of your research is so obviously worthwhile?’
He hesitated. ‘Anna, to tell the truth, most of the work I do here can’t be explained.’
She took in a sharp breath. The smell of his warm skin was almost as satisfying as the knowledge that, in Simon, Anna had someone she could trust. There was just one more question she had to ask.
‘Why are you telling me all this?’
‘I can’t talk to the other scientists. And none of my other assistants has ever questioned anything I’ve shown them. But you did, Anna.’
‘So what do we do now?’
Simon visibly tensed. Pulling back, he squinted slightly, his mouth open in concentration as he strained to hear.
‘What is it?’ Anna gasped.
‘Someone’s coming.’ He looked at Anna, grim determination in his eyes. ‘It could be Peter. He sometimes comes to discuss work with me.’
Anna glanced at her watch. ‘At this time of night?’
‘Time doesn’t matter to him. He’s woken me up at three in the morning before, to discuss an idea.’ Simon grabbed Anna’s shoulders. ‘Kiss me.’
Anna raised an eyebrow. ‘Now?’
‘Why else would I have you in my room? He won’t be suspicious if he walks in on us. Kiss me.’
His voice was faint and urgent, but Anna didn’t need any encouragement. She slipped her hand back around his neck, tilted her head, and pressed her lips to his.<
Behind her, she heard the door opening. Without paus-ing in his kissing, Simon’s eyes turned to see who it was. Quietly, the door was pulled shut again. Whoever it was walked off down the corridor, their shoes making faint squeaks on the lino. Simon closed his eyes and flickered his tongue inside Anna’s mouth.
They carried on kissing for ages, nibbling and caressing each other’s lips. Their slippery tongues danced together, tentatively at first. Then Simon’s began to thrash inside Anna’s mouth. His fingers gripped her face. Struggling for air, Anna had to reluctantly ease herself out of his clutches.
She looked round at the door, then back at Simon. She smiled. ‘You can stop now,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘Whoever it was has gone.’
‘It was Peter.’ Breathing hard, Simon put his hand on Anna’s knee. ‘But I don’t want to stop.’
Anna looked down, watching his hand slide up her thigh. She didn’t want to stop, either. She wanted to tear off his T-shirt and squash her soft breasts against his hard chest. She wanted to rest her head in his lap and taste his desire on her tongue.
‘What do you think of Peter?’ he asked.
She looked up. ‘He’s incredibly attractive,’ she said wistfully, teasing Simon.
‘What do you think about the answer he gave me? Do you reckon he’s using me?’
Anna shrugged, although deep inside she knew the answer. Galloway was using all his staff, lulling them with a fantastic lifestyle so they wouldn’t bother to question their work. ‘If he is, then you’re not the only one that’s being used.’
Uncertainty twitched across his brow. ‘I’m not?’
‘Dr Galloway’s been using me to relieve his frustrations.’
Simon tilted his head questioningly.
‘Apparently Joan’s very jealous of the female staff Peter works with. He… er…’ There was no delicate way to put it. ‘He isn’t getting any. At least, that’s what he insinuated. And that would explain his behaviour with me.’
Simon’s eyes held a curious expression: a mixture of concern and excitement. ‘What sort of behaviour?’
Anna smiled coyly. ‘He asks me to… do things for him.’
‘You’re not talking about the filing, I take it.’
Anna shook her head.
‘Tell me,’ Simon whispered. ‘What’s he asked you to do?’
Anna told him. She told him about the way Peter had asked her to bend over the desk, so he could watch as he fondled her arse, and how he’d asked her to type with her dress unbuttoned. She told him about how she’d sucked on Peter’s cock while Joan had been in the office. And she told him how Peter had come back from lunch one day and complained that he was still hungry.
‘He said he hadn’t had time for dessert. I asked whether he wanted me to go to the kitchen and get him something. He said he wanted to eat me.’ The wicked pleasure of the memory was intensified by the shock on Simon’s face. ‘He asked me to sit on his desk and spread my legs. He took off my panties and he…’She finished the sentence by raising her eyebrows suggestively.
‘He’s disgusting,’ Simon hissed, his upper lip curling with revulsion. ‘Anna, I hate the thought of him doing those things to you.’
She was touched by his concern. ‘I can look after myself,’ she said, putting her hand to his cheek. ‘I’ve got the situation under control.’
Simon didn’t seem convinced. ‘The bastard,’ he seethed. ‘It’s revolting. He must be twenty years older than you.’
She shivered slightly; his anger was like an aphrodisiac. ‘Are you a little bit jealous?’
‘A little bit? I’d like to kill him. You know how much I like you, Anna.’ As if to prove how much, his hand hovered over the edge of her stocking, on to the very top of her thigh. ‘I want you to myself.’ He began to softly stroke the pale purity of her inner thighs. Anna opened her legs slightly, allowing him to trace delicate patterns on her skin. ‘Your skin’s so soft,’ he sighed, his eyelids drooping. His fingertips trailed inexorably upward. Involuntarily, Anna twitched as he discovered the dampness of her panties. The faint jerk of her muscles seemed to spark something in Simon. ‘You’re wet,’ he smiled, his voice soft as his fingers. ‘I want to make love to you.’
Anna rested her hand on his groin. He had nothing on underneath his tracksuit pants, and his erection jumped under her palm. Envy had made him hard. She squeezed his balls, then stroked the heel of her hand along his prick. For an instant, her mind clouded with guilt as she thought of Mike, back in London, waiting and worrying. But, she told herself, this was all in the line of duty. If Simon was going to be her informant, she needed to get close to him. She wondered whether all her investigations were going to be so enjoyable.
‘I want you to fuck me,’ she whispered.
Simon stood up. Pulling on Anna’s hands, he urged her to his feet. His fingers wouldn’t move quickly enough as he unbuttoned her short black dress. As he struggled she made his job harder, slipping her warm hands underneath his T-shirt and sliding her palms over his chest. His breathing grew rushed and shallow with impatience. ‘Fuck me,’ she whispered, driving him insane. ‘Fuck me, Simon. Fuck me.’
He wanted to. He had to. He couldn’t stop himself now, despite Peter’s words echoing in his mind: ‘No fucking,’ the doctor had warned. ‘You will make love to her.’
He couldn’t make love; it would be impossible to be slow and tender. Anna’s body was designed for fucking — frantic, mindless and gratifying. She was so soft, with curves that made his mouth water, and skin so pure he longed to soil it with his dirty thoughts. And then there were her eyes, glittering seductively, their pale green the exact colour of his lust. No, he couldn’t make love to her tonight, although he suspected he could easily fall in love with a woman like Anna.
His penis throbbed angrily as she fell to her knees in front of him. Bowing his head, he watched her lips part as she pulled down his sweatpants. She sighed in appreciation of his long, swollen rod. Then she clasped her mouth around the weeping tip and sucked him into ecstasy.
His fingers twitched in her soft, thick hair as her head bobbed. Her tongue was magic, flickering incessantly over the knob of his prick and lapping all along his proud length. Looking down at her, he groaned at the sight of her open dress and her breasts almost spilling out of her low-cut bra. He could see the edges of the dark discs surrounding her nipples, peering over the lace like twin sunsets. His gaze dropped down between her breasts. Stroking her cleavage with his eyes, he lingered over her sublime curves until he had their shapes embedded in his mind. Then he turned to the mirror over his desk, and grinned wickedly.
There was a tiny camera behind the mirror, linked to a television screen in the monitoring room. At this moment, Peter and Joan would be sitting, avidly watching. Simon could almost hear Peter’s voice, cursing Simon for disobeying his instructions. There would be a price to pay, later, for his insubordination. The thought made his penis jerk in Anna’s mouth.
She sucked greedily at him, swallowing ferociously as he shuddered and came. Easing his spent cock from between her lips, Simon hooked his hands under her arms and pulled her up. Gazing lustfully into her pale eyes, he gratefully touched her mouth. Her lips were glistening and, when he kissed her, he could taste himself on her tongue.
‘Anna,’ he gasped, carried away on a roaring, foaming tide of need. ‘I want you, Anna. I want to fuck you, now.’
She helped him, shrugging her dress off as he distractedly pushed the material over her shoulders. Like a greedy child with an insatiable sweet tooth, he tore at her wrapper. He wanted it off; he wanted to feel nothing between his skin and hers. Reaching behind her, he deftly unhooked her bra. Pausing briefly to squeeze her beautiful, pert breasts, he knelt and pulled down her panties. He ripped at her boots, unzipping them and wrenching them off her feet with such urgency that she had to reach down to steady herself with a hand on his shoulder. Finally, her sheer black hold-ups were torn off and thrown aside.
Anna laughed s
He answered with a voracious suck of her neck. Christ, her skin tasted so good. He bit her, punishing her for being so irresistible. She drew in a sharp breath.
Simon peeled off his own clothes and roughly pushed Anna on to his bed. Her eyes roamed quickly over his nakedness, hesitating when she saw how hard he was again. He smiled at the look of flushed excitement on her face. Anna smiled back. Resting her head on his pillow, she bent her knees up and spread her thighs. One hand dropped into the exquisite darkness between her legs. Sighing languidly, she rubbed a fingertip between her labia, prising open her succulent, crimson slit. Simon could feel his pulse beating in his prick as her finger dipped into her moist pussy.
It was too much to bear. Pulling her hand away, he dipped his head and sucked on her shining finger. The same sweet musk he’d tasted twice already hit his senses like a smack in the face. He fell on her, lowering his hips between her open legs. Grateful, he watched as she reached down and guided him towards her waiting pussy. Then, with a searing thrust, he was inside her.
It was wonderful in there, the pent-up aggression of his prick engulfed in the infinite pleasure of her beautiful pussy. She was soft and hot, tight and wet, and he slid so fluently in and out of her it was as if their bodies were meant to be joined. Her inner muscles clutched at his penis as he pumped into her, pushing himself further and deeper with every stroke. She moaned loudly and, for a moment while he watched her, he almost forgot his own selfish pleasure. Caught beneath him, pinioned by his powerful body, she was going wild. Her throat was arching on the pillow, a deep blush speckling her skin. Her eyelids were fluttering with pleasure and with every thrust of his cock a new sound of surrender flew from her lips. Her breasts were jiggling slightly with the force of his hips, the creamy mounds tipped by brown nipples turned stiff with delight. Her fingers clung to her hair, so black against the white pillow. A heavy lock had fallen across her face. Completely lost, she looked so beautiful that Simon broke his incessant rhythm. Balancing himself on one hand, he brushed her hair away from her eyes.
by Zoe Le Verdier have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes