Authors: Drew Sinclair
"Shoot me? Go right ahead Angel, if that's all you've got. Our people will be here in minutes. It sounds to me like you don't have a plan. All we have to do now is wait it out. Another ten minutes tops. Zidane and Jones will be here with the whole team. I sent out the co-ordinates over an hour ago." He paused. "Do you hear that noise?"
"Ah fuck it." He spat. It was the sound of choppers coming through the air. He backed away and then ran into the woods.
Katy looked at the man who had just pulled her from the jaws of her worst nightmare and her head went light again. She hadn't eaten since the night before, she was dehydrated, exhausted - stars and a high pitched squeal began to eat into her vision and then the lights went out on her world for the second time in twenty-four hours.
The room was dark and she didn't know how long she had been out. The feeling of déjà vu was nauseating for some moments. Was this another one of her blackouts? Had they returned. She looked around and made nothing out except for one thing; a face, handsome, caring, deeply familiar and yet also unknown to her.
Could she trust him?
She focused her eyes slowly and with great effort, then reached out and put her hand to his strong jaw.
He drew back.
"Clay! Hey Clay, she's awake." The man said. She watched as another face joined the one already in her vision. She had reached out to the wrong man.
"Thanks Dale, I'll take it from here." That was unmistakably Clayton's deep, reassuring voice.
"How are you baby?" He said, crowding out the other face and filling her gaze with his perfect, handsome features.
She tried to sit up but he eased her back down.
"Take it easy. The doctor said you're exhausted, you'll need at least week in bed to recover.
"What happened?" She asked him. "The last I remember we were in the forest, in the middle of nowhere. Boyevik and his guys were chasing us."
"That's right. Then my people arrived. Angel disappeared but we'll find him. I got good facial recognition on most of those goons so we can go after them as well if we need to. There was no reason to hang around so we airlifted you the hell out of there to get you looked at by the medics."
"Do the police know?"
"Not a word. You're still invisible. For as long as you want to be. Not that it matters anymore."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your friends know about me because of Angel. They know about you. Isn't that the reason you were hiding out? So what's the point in being a fugitive anymore? It's time to start living out in the open again."
"It's not that simple."
"Yes it is." He said intently. "This is over Nadia."
"Don't call me that Clay, please. That person doesn’t exist anymore."
He looked down for a moment and then back into her eyes.
"It's over Katy. They'll never get to you. As soon as you decide to come alive again the police will protect you just as they will anybody else. We have evidence against Boyevik - communications between him and Angel. Sooner or later we'll track Angel down and he'll play ball. Boyevik will be behind bars where he should have been four years ago.
Tears began to well up in her eyes.
"What is it Katy? You've got to tell me. Secrets can only hurt you with these people."
She desperately wanted to believe him, but it just wasn't that simple.
"We got you away from that evil scum and now we have them on the run. All you have to do is be honest with me. What else is going on?"
"They aren't the only ones who want me Clayton. It's the…" She stopped. This was dangerous information. Even telling him could get him into trouble, especially with his hotheaded desire to help her and his belief that he could always come out on top against any adversary.
"Who Katy, who is it?"
She pushed back the blankets and rolled out of bed before he could stop her.
"Just what exactly do you think you're doing?" He asked her, attempting to block her way, but she pushed him roughly aside.
"What does it look like? I'm getting dressed. I can't lie around here because some doctor wants to cover his ass. I told you there's more at stake here than just Boyevik. I did pretty good at avoiding his sorry ass until you came along and allowed your bodyguard and so-called best friend to blow my cover."
"Whoever said he was my best friend?"
"He told me himself."
"And you believed him?"
"You said you've known him for fifteen years."
He sighed heavily.
"It's true. I trusted him and he let me down. It happens, but we're still here. Life goes on. I will still trust people who've demonstrated loyalty to me until they give me a reason to do otherwise. If there's a better way to live your life then I'm all ears."
"Will that be a key phrase in your self-help bestseller? Is this supposed to be some kind of message for me on how to live my life?"
He sighed again.
"No wonder you don't have many friends."
"No wonder you've never had a girlfriend."
"Always have to get the last word in, don't you?"
She paused to look at him
"Yep." She said curtly.
"So you don’t want to tell me anything else, but since I've done such a good job at figuring out your secrets so far, how about I try a little more guesswork and you can tell me how close I am to the truth."
She felt her stomach tighten.
"I'd be careful if I were you. Look where your guesswork has landed you so far."
"Alone in a bedroom with a girl who gets a thousand times cuter when she's backed into a corner? I'd say it's not so bad."
"God damn you. You're pretty good at last words yourself." She said, pausing to stand with her hand on her hip. She had pulled on jeans and buttoned a blouse nearly the whole way up.
"That is way, way too much." He said looking at her.
She looked down at herself.
"Way too much of what?"
"Just look at yourself; that cute little ass in those tight jeans and your hand on your hip like the sexy little miss you are. You're obviously doing it on purpose."
She took her hand off her hip and turned back to the drawer full of clothes.
"You're the one who left the tight jeans in here. I normally wear baggy."
He watched her a moment longer. Fantasizing. Once her life was sorted out it was going to be the greatest sex of his life, or hers, period. Damsel in distress sex was the absolute best, the ultimate thrill and it didn't come much better than saving a girl from the Mafia or… what else…
"Run out of ideas?" She said, interrupting into his reverie and bringing him back to the task at hand. He had an idea but was still missing some detail. It would come though. It always did.
"It's the government." He said quietly. "They have something on you."
She froze again. He had to be just fishing around. They had coerced her alright but nobody knew about it and there was no way of finding out about it short of breaking into FBI headquarters and stealing her files.
"You're guessing." She said.
"Educated guessing and I'm close. Very close. They either had something on you or they made something up."
"Stop it." She said more urgently now. Every time he opened his mouth it was like he took a step closer into her soul.
"They fabricated evidence. The famous Nadia Komerov, child prodigy, genius and patriotic whistle blower had to be coerced into working for the Feds and the NSA because she wouldn’t do it of her own free will."
"Stop calling me that. And I'm not famous."
"Not to the rest of the world maybe, but to us you are."
She stood up straight and put down the sweater she had selected.
"What does that mean? Who's us?"
"It means what you think it means. In the world of high-tech security you were something of a legend. The girl who brought down BoyTech Inc almost singlehanded, the kid barely out of college who layered unbreakable security into hardware components for the government, the eighteen year old who put American military hardware decades ahead of any other country in the world with technology far ahead of its time. Of course I'd heard of you, but pictures of you are hard to come by so I didn't recognize when I first saw you back in Lovett. I sure as hell noticed you alright, all wrapped up in yourself and your work, a tempting little mystery just asking to be solved. When I scanned you and found nothing but an electronic empty space where there should have been an IP address, a cell phone number, passwords, bank data, login information, an open connection to the internet, that's when I got really interested. All my best hardware got me was a picture of that beautiful face and those lonely eyes."
"God damn it, just stop it. Please. This is too much." She was shaking with anger.
Clayton stood up.
"It's okay." He said softly. "Whatever they made you do had nothing to do with who you really are. It was all lies, wasn't it? The made it look like you were implicated in the things BoyTech had been doing."
"Don’t come near me."
"Of course I wasn't sure of who you were at first, but when my people checked you out things began to add up fast."
He began to move towards her.
"Don't you come another step closer Hargrave. I'm not your property, I don’t belong to you, to the Mafia, to the US government or to anybody else."
"Of course you don't Nadia."
"Jesus, so help me, stop calling me that."
He was close to her now, close enough to reach out and touch her. They had tried to coerce her but she hadn't caved, she had run instead. They said they had evidence of her complicity but it had to be faked, it had to be, because she had never knowingly done anything for Boyevik that was illegal.
"I've had enough of your pathetic little control game Hargrave. What am I? Your damsel in distress fantasy fuck? The helpless geek you have to save so you can get a hard on?"
He stopped advancing and held her gaze.
"You are definitely all of that Nadia Komerov."
It was enough to send her over the edge her. He had read her correctly, like an open book or an unencrypted Wi-Fi connection. She launched herself at him, taking him off balance, and landed them on the bed behind.
She quickly straddled him and began tearing at his shirt, buttons popping off into the shadows of the darkened room.
"I've been searching for Nadia Komerov for years." he said into her ear as she devoured his throat, his neck, his bared chest.
"I'm not letting her go now."
She came upright again and tore off her own blouse, undid her bra and dropped it to the floor. He reached up and pressed his hands to her breasts, caressing her taut and hardened nipples. She ran her hands down to her hips and between her legs where his bulging, tight erection strained against her.
"Come on you fucking asshole." She said, hunching over him and pushing his hands back. "Show me what you can do."
In a second he had flipped her over to her back and was undoing the jeans she had pulled on only moments before. He drew them down her long, alabaster legs and then pushed her thighs apart. She was already moaning as he pressed his mouth to her pulsating mound and blew hot breath through her panties and onto her waiting pussy.
"Do it." She hissed breathlessly. "What are you waiting for? I'm your God damn fantasy fuck, so go ahead and take it."
"That's right." He said, drawing the underwear down slowly with his hand. "You're it Nadia Komerov, you're my fantasy girl but this isn’t my fantasy fuck - not yet."
His hand moved back up between her legs, lingering between her thighs. She was already wet, her clit straining for release, hungering for his touch. They had done so much together but still they hadn’t done
"Stop screwing around." She said angrily. "Do you want me or don't you?"
"Damn right I want you." He said slowly and then began the slow insertion of his index finger into her warm crevice.
The sensation was exquisite causing her to arch her back violently as he found her spot and slid slowly back and forth across her, then circling around. His lips came down to her abdomen at the same time and his free hand pushed her right thigh outwards opening her up to him even more.
A second finger joined the first and the thrill of his hold on her began the inevitable build to orgasm. Her breath was rapid, her body tense with desire; his control was slow and deliberate. He lowered his mouth to her stomach and allowed his tongue to follow the contours of her mid section as his fingers explored deep to find her G-spot.
"It's not good enough." She gasped and began pushing against his shoulders, trying to find his wrist to take him out of her.
"It's you I want." She said, gripping a handful of his wildly tousled hair in her other hand. But despite her hold his head continued to go lower. He was fully focused on the object of his desire now and oblivious to the tearing grip on his mane. He pulled his fingers slowly out and then replaced them with his tongue, using his hands to pin her legs outwards.
She felt the first pounding vibrations of orgasm course through her as his tongue found her clit and licked with evil precision. He was an expert. She looked down in desperation and their eyes met. He was watching her, gauging every reaction of her body, calibrating the slow, flicking and circling of his tongue precisely to push her closer and closer to the edge.
She wanted him inside her but it was clear he still had other plans. She wouldn't get exactly what she wanted - not yet - but she would get something and it would be intense.
His strong hands gripped her hips and slid her down the bed like a wanton plaything, forcing her pussy against his mouth as he plunged his exploring tongue deeper inside her. He screwed better with his tongue than her ex had done with his dick.