Nightstalker: Red Team (4 page)

I chuckled, and with a hand over my shoulder I waved and made my way to the double doors in the main office.

I stopped at the biometric scanner, placing four fingers on the screen. When the high tech lock beeped, telling me it had accepted my finger print scan, I entered in my eight digit code. The door’s lock opened with a click and I exited into the hallway. Once again I stopped to engage another security effort and placed my face inches away from the retinal scanner to gain access to the elevator. Damn, Zane is an overzealous security freak. I knew I would have to engage one more biometric finger print scanner once I exited off the elevator down stairs to enter the back room of Z Corp’s public reception area. No one gained access to the inner sanctum of headquarters without an escort through the secured areas.

Damn I just want to get home, have a cold beer, and get some rest. If I was lucky I might get a few hours of sleep before I had to come back for Deepweb336 briefing. Something was not sitting right with me about the Russian’s involvement, it was just too convenient. My gut was screaming “Set up!”

                                                        ***

After driving around the city trying to clear my head, exhaustion won out over the excitement of being back stateside. I pulled into the driveway of my new home and found a kick ass Honda CBR1000 Superbike, matte black with a kick ass red pin stripe graphics kit, parked in front of the house. Damn I forgot to ask Zane who lived on the other side of the old Victorian duplex he owns. I pulled my bike up next to my new neighbor’s and parked. Hopefully he’d be a cool cat and we could go riding together. Rolling my sore shoulder, I fixed my pack on my shoulder and headed inside. I fumbled with the old lock of my front door when I heard a faint footstep. I stopped, standing stock still, and listened. I silently slid my right hand to my holster, palming my sidearm. I heard the noise again, only closer this time, in one smooth fluid movement I slide my HK45 out of its holster. With practiced ease my thumb pressed the safety off and I turned, leveling my HK ready to take out whatever crazy fuck was trying to sneak up behind me. At the exact moment my HK pressed into the fucker’s face I had a Sig shoved in mine.

“Make one more move mother fucker and I will shoot your ass and burn your body! What the fuck are you doing on my porch?” I heard the sexiest voice I have ever heard growl. Fuck me, she was turning me on while she had a gun to my head. This might not have been the best time to get a hard on, but damn, that woman was fine as hell.

“God damn, woman you are sexy as shit when you are handling that piece.” That evidently was not the right answer. The gun was lowered, and the round kick to the back of my knee made me stumble forward in an effort to regain my balance. Not a particularly imaginative maneuver and something that would not have been successful had all my blood not been rushing to my dick.

“You must be shit dumb! What in the ever loving fuck are you doing lurking around my house in the middle of the night? You lookin’ to get a bullet in your other shoulder? You want a matching set? I’d be happy to oblige.” Jasmin was spitting mad. Damn.

“Anyone ever tell you that you cuss a lot? Shit, woman you say “fuck” more than most the men I was in combat with.” I knew I should just stop now and explain why I was on the porch, but for some perverse reason I could not stop pissing her off. I liked the fire she got in her eyes when she was ready to do battle.

I looked Jasmin over from her crazy ass messy bun that held her silky whiskey colored hair haphazardly on her head, down to a white cotton wife beater tank top. Down further to the pair of men’s boxers she had rolled over at the waist making them sit low on her tiny hips. Hot damn!

“Eyes up here, fucker! As for my vocabulary, if you don’t fucking like it, eat shit. Now I know you have a hard time answering direct questions in English, perhaps a different language would suit you better. Unfortunately for you I am too tired to fuck around trying to find one.  What are you doing on my porch?” She said through gritted teeth. The girl was going to need a dentist by the time we were done the way she was grinding her teeth.

“I live here. You are actually on my porch. I believe yours is about ten feet to the right.”  I said simply. Then I flashed my best thousand megawatt smile. The one I knew  had most women dropping their panties at the sight of it.

Jasmin

“The fuck you say?” I asked, completely stunned.

Did he just say he lived here? What in the hell was Z thinking? How in God’s name was I going to sleep with Mr. DDG sleeping in the next apartment with only a thin wall separating us?

After the meeting I had ridden around the city trying to relax and clear my mind. When I finally got home it still took me almost an hour to finally close my eyes and not think about the sex I undeniably wanted to have with him. Not even the memories of my capture and torture could stop the sexy replay reel of him walking in the conference room. Just thinking about it now I could feel my nipples getting hard through my thin tank top, and once again, my life sucked. I was not wearing a bra. Maybe the heavens would bless me and he would not notice. I looked back at his face and yup, they were laser focused on my nipples. FML! Why couldn’t I catch a break with this guy?

“Ahem.” I cleared my throat hoping to get his attention. His eyes met mine and that sexy smirk was back on his face.

“What? Are
you
the one with the issues understanding the English language?” Linc asked as he inched his way closer to me. “Ich wohne hier.” He whispered in my ear repeating, I live here, in German. His accent was perfect. Of course it would be. Every damn thing about him seemed to be perfect. Why wouldn’t his German be flawless as well?

“Whatever!” Yes, I was reduced to the verbal equivalent of a fifteen year old.

In my defense it was hard to think when Linc had his body so damn close to mine and I could smell that ‘I wanna have sex’ scent on him again. I was also trying to figure out if that was his gun brushing up against my bare thigh or if it was his hard on. Surely a man as sexy as Lincoln Parker would not get a hard on from a little nipple action. Only from what I was feeling, the long hard length against my thigh was bigger than the HK barrel length of eight inches. I lightly pushed my thigh against it just to double check, just for research and technical purposes of course. 

A soft groan slipped passed his lips when my thigh pressed against him. My nipples tightened even more at the sound, and the wetness between my legs drenched the boxers I was wearing.  I guess that’s what I got for going commando. I think I read somewhere once it was un-lady like to go without panties, but I rarely see the use in wearing any. I now understand that the article I read urging women to wear panties must have been a cautionary piece. In case you find yourself in a situation with a six foot two inch, black haired, green eyed, sexy as all fuck man who is only inches from you and your pussy is dripping wet with nothing to stop the wetness from running down your leg.

My humiliation knew no bounds.

“Careful there, Jasmin,” he spoke softly near my ear, tickling the soft flesh down my neck giving me goose bumps all the way down my arms. “If you are checking to see if you made my dick hard with your sexy as hell little nipples poking through your tank top, I can confirm. My dick is rock hard.”

Well, damn, that was straight forward. I think I had a mini orgasm. I could feel my wetness running down my inner thigh. Time to stop this now, before I had to hide under my bed for the rest of my life in mortification. Please God, just let me walk away. 

“I have to go.”

Oh shit, was that my voice? I sounded two octaves higher than normal, like a twelve year old boy whose nuts hadn’t dropped yet. Shit and damn!

“Are you running away from me, sweet Jasmin?” he sniffed the side of my neck, “I can smell your sweetness from here.”

What the fuck did he just say? That shook me out of Mr. DDG’s sex crazed spell he put me under. I do not run away from anyone!

“Running away from who? You? Screw off!”

I stood straight and pushed my shoulders back. On second thought that was not the best idea. My sensitive nipples brushed against the stone wall that made up his chest and an involuntary moan escaped. I tried to pull it back in and press my lips together but it was too late.

“Careful sweet Jasmin! My control is slipping by the second. Between your tight little nipples rubbing my chest and the smell of your sweet pussy I am getting ready to snap.” He pushed his body fully on to mine, running his hand over the curve of my hip. That pesky little moan escaped once more.

“Knowing I made you so wet that you are dripping down your thigh and hearing that soft sweet moan come out of your filthy little mouth has my dick getting ready to explode.” He placed his finger on the inside on my thigh and slowly started moving it up towards my aching center.

I was in a trance; he must have hypnotized me. No man has ever gotten away with talking like that to me, or touching me when I was not in one hundred percent control. I didn’t have any control, he had it all, and I was spellbound, ready to spread my legs and beg a man I had known less than twenty four hours to fuck me. He stopped his exploration just shy of where I really wanted him. I watched with rapt attention as he brought his finger to his mouth and suck my wetness from his finger. I think my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I was having an out of body experience. My entire body trembled as I watched him pull his finger from his mouth.

“So. Fucking. Sweet.”

With that parting shot he started to back away. My body swayed as I came back to my senses. He placed his hands on my hips to help right my balance.

“Don’t touch me.”

Shit, I was such a fucking idiot. I straightened fully and took a step back. Shit. Shit. Shit. What just happened? Maybe I was dreaming, please Lord above let me be dreaming.

“There she is,” he chuckled as he fixed the strap on his pack, presumably to avoid the bullet wound on his shoulder.

“There who is?” I asked confused.

He just chuckled and ignored my question. Damn this man was infuriating. Screw it, I just need to get back inside my house and get some sleep. The sun was already peaking up over the horizon.

“When did it happen?” I nodded towards his shoulder.

“How’d you know?” Linc asked, once again moving the strap.

“Not my first rodeo, cowboy. I have seen my fair share of shoulder wounds.” Getting shot at sucks monkey balls, but getting hit sucks even worse.

“No I guess it wouldn’t be. Russia, that’s umm where it happened.” Linc looked like it pained him to utter that word. As much as I wanted to know about the mission, I was just too tired.

“Glad you made it out. Good night.” I walked back to my door.

“Good night, sweet Jasmin.” He went back to his door, his keys still hanging in the lock. I wondered if I should tell him he needed to turn the knob to the left a little to get the lock to engage. Nope, I’d let him figure it out.

Walking into my apartment, I made my way to the bedroom. I slid my soaked shorts off and tossed them in the dirty clothes hamper. Those might have to get double washed. With a groan of humiliation I threw myself on the bed.

“Why am I such an ass?”  I asked the empty room.

I squeezed my legs together to calm the ache in my core as I remembered his touch and his voice against my neck. This was not helping! I just needed to close my eyes and visualize disassembling my M4. Funny how some people count sheep to go to sleep and I count the pieces of my weapons.

I heard the shower turn on next door. I squeezed my legs together again and screwed my eyes shut. Trying my hardest to block out the images my overactive, lustful mind was conjuring up. I just needed sleep. The last thing I needed to be doing was listening to Lincoln getting into the shower. Holy fuck, he was naked in the shower! His shower only a mere twelve inches behind my bed. The house was so old the walls were like paper. I remembered hearing my old neighbors banging in the shower and in their room many nights. I could hear every grunt and groan. Fuck. My. Life. Again! I heard the old pipes whine as the water warmed up. The old glass doors squeaked loudly as he opened them to get in.

Before I knew what was happening my left hand had slid under my tank top and I was palming my breast, squeezing it, making my nipples tighten once again. I closed my thumb and forefinger around my nipple pinching it, and pulling the sensitive nub away from my body. Holy shit that felt good!

I could hear Lincoln in the shower behind me; I kept my eyes closed and imagined him as he soaped up his muscular body. His hands running over his six then back down to the V that would lead down to an impressive package. I slid my right hand down my own stomach wishing it was Lincoln’s soapy hand; I made my way down to my slippery entrance and pushed one finger inside.

“AHH Fuck.” I moaned out loud. There was a bang on the other side of the wall, it sounded like Lincoln had dropped something in the shower. I could clearly hear the commotion and the thought of Lincoln hearing me pleasure myself only spurred me on.

I gathered up my wetness and started to massage my clit in slow hard circles. With the water still running in Lincoln’s apartment I visualized him taking his dick in his hand and stroking himself in the same slow way I was rubbing my clit. I pulled my nipple harder and spread my legs wide. I felt the cool air on my sensitive pussy adding to my excitement. My vision of Lincoln jerking himself off grew more vivid as I massaged harder, I could feel myself getting ready to come. My body began to shake and I was hot all over, as the first wave of sweet relief washed over my body I let out a shout, “Lincoln!”

“Sweet Jasmin,” came through the wall. That’s all it took for a tidal wave of pleasure to surge through my body leaving my legs shaking and me panting.

It took several minutes for my body to calm down and the waves of pleasure to subside. Just as the water turned off on Lincoln’s side the embarrassment started to wash over me. Had I really just pleasured myself thinking about Lincoln naked in the shower? Holy shit, I was going to die. The thought of him hearing me turned me on just minutes ago and now the thought of him hearing me come made me want to crawl under my bed and hide for a hundred years. I need to quit my job!! 

I jumped out of bed and made my way to my bathroom to wash my hands. How was I ever going to face Mr. DDG? 

***

The vibrating and buzzing sound pulled me from sleep; I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone.  I fumbled with it entering in my security code to unlock my screen. Once I finally got the annoying alarm to stop I tossed it back on the table and stretched. Damn I felt like I just closed my eyes.  What in the hell was that noise? Still half asleep I pushed up to lean my back against the wall behind my bed; no head board for me. I was being a nosey bitch I couldn’t help it. Was that classic rock? All the guys on the team busted my chops over my affinity for Classic Rock & Roll.

I heard the first strums of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Free Bird and I relaxed my back onto the wall, settling into the soothing guitar solo listening to my favorite song. Something about that song gave me a sense of peace.

Classic Rock reminded me of my childhood, sitting in the garage with my adopted dad helping him work on his Harley. For as long as I could remember it was just him and I in that garage. Me, barely out of diapers, covered in grease and him teaching me about bikes. There was always music in the background. The classics, real musicians, Bob Segar, Jim Croce, and Skynyrd. When music was still about something; it was from the soul and not about making a label a little coin. After my parents died, Dad took me in and adopted me. He never married, it was always just him and I. I could not have asked for a better father; he loved me in every way. Damn I missed that man!

When the song ended some annoying death metal shit started to play and that was my cue for coffee. I grabbed my phone and checked the time I had thirty minutes to shower and get out the door. Good thing for me I was a low maintenance type of girl, actually a no maintenance type of girl. I could not remember the last time I did anything remotely girly. I was surrounded by men all day that considered me a team mate, not a woman. I did not date, and I did not have friends that were female. I wondered if I would be different if I had a mother to teach me all that girly shit I missed out on.

“Shit and damn,” I yelled out when I spilled hot coffee down my leg. I quickly cleaned up my mess and headed for the shower; if I didn’t double time it I was going to be late. Subconsciously I might have been delaying heading to HQ, the thought of having to face Linc after last night has my stomach full of butterflies. What the fuck! I did not feel butterflies; I didn’t even say the word butterflies. What in the hell was Mr. DDG turning me into?