Called to Kill

by A. M Surtees

  Chapter Eight

  Surprisingly it took us almost an hour to reach the building in the cheap and nasty Holden Commodore that Jackson provided for us to get around in. I swear this royal blue hunk of metal was older than I was and had almost 400,000 kilometres on the speedometer so it ran like it had never seen the inside of a mechanics since the day it was built.

  Pulling up to the building and I had to recheck that we had the correct address. The building was the size of the Empire State Building. I wondered how something so illegal could be so prominent in the middle of Sydney and then it clicked, no one thinks to look right under their noses. It was genius.

  From outside it blended in perfectly with the rest of the city’s skyline of towering skyscrapers but inside it was something completely different. Inside this building hid some of Australia’s greatest secrets and was behind the murders of some of the world’s greatest criminals.

  This building trained assassins, brought young, troubled kids like I was, off the street and gave them a home before eventually putting a gun in their hands and teaching them how to use it with pristine accuracy. It taught them discipline, taught them the difference between right and wrong. It taught them that the wrong doers deserved a punishment that the criminal justice system wasn’t dishing out. This place, just like the other four across Australia like it, was home.

  It was amazing on the inside. With a simple interior design of greys, blacks and whites, it had a modern yet elegant outlay. The lobby looked like that of any other building in the area. What made it incredible was the fact that, behind those elevator doors, was so much more.

  People would walk in and ask for directions, change for parking, where the best spot to eat was and many other things so it was important that the immediate interior looked inviting, tame, and legal.

  But for those of us who actually made it into the elevators behind the reception desk that took them to the other floors of the building, they were greeted with so much more than just an ordinary building.

  Room after room was filled with employees working hard at tracking down marks, filing away old cases and making calls to the many clients that we catered to. It was beautiful to watch such a well organised group of people who all had the same ultimate goal, keeping people safe in the face of extreme danger. The Sydney office was responsible for the tip off of the Lindt Café siege and other terrorist acts that as far as the public were aware, were squashed by the AFP before they could act our their plans to wreak havoc in Australia. All the offices were good at keeping tabs on these things but Sydney was by far the best. No question about it.

  As we navigated our way through the halls, escorted by a short, round man who looked to be well into his fifties, small grey strands of hair combed across the top of his head in an attempt to mask his mature baldness, we were guided into the main computer tech room and that’s when Marcy’s jaw hit the floor. She looked like a kid who’d just received every single present she’d ever asked Santa for.

  Large high tech computers lined the walls, stretching from floor to ceiling. It all looked like mumble jumble to me, but to Marcy, it was heaven. It spoke to her inner nerd the way porn speaks to a mans inner juvenile delinquent.

  We were greeted at the door by Daniel Paulson, a five foot nine, slim built man in his late twenties to early thirties with light brown hair that had a touch of red to it that was only noticeable when the light hit it. He had pale blue eyes that I felt like drowning in. He flashed me a brilliant smile that, I’ll admit, made me blush ever so slightly. He was definitely easy to look at.

  “You must be Tamikah and Marcy,” his voice smooth and deep with a kind of sexually inviting tone to it that made you want to just rip his clothes off on the spot to see what was hidden away under that tailored suit vest.

  Marcy explained to him what she had to do to track down any possible digital footage of the attacker and he led her over to a small girl in the far right corner of the room. By small I mean this girl was borderline midget. She was five foot nothing with rich strawberry blonde hair and a slim pair of glasses that sat at the end of her nose. She and Marcy got talking about computers and strategy almost immediately, it was like no one else was around aside from them and all this tech.

  “So you’re Tamikah Grey, the call girl with the ‘killer heels’ I’ve heard so much about?” He laughed at his own use of the pun ‘killer heels’.

  Nice to see I’m well known in other states and not just Victoria.

  “Guilty. Just beware; if you see me with my boots on, you know someone is going to die.”

  He held his hands up in a defensive gesture, as if to say ‘don’t shoot’ and I couldn’t hold my laughter in even though I really did try. There was something about him that was instantly intoxicating.

  I don’t know what it was, he wasn’t even flirting, but there was just something about him that drew me in. It made me want him. I can honestly say I have never felt a rush like that before. I wanted to know how he smelt, how he tasted, what he felt like. It was an instant attraction, one I couldn’t deny. I had to have him. I had to know more about him. I didn’t trust this feeling and I didn’t trust him. I’ll just ignore the fact that I really wanted to see him naked.

  “So, Daniel was it? Want to come get a drink with me? We can talk strategy and you can tell me who does what around here. I’m so amazed by the size of this place. Penny has done a great job by the looks of things.”

  “Yeah she definitely has. Ive been here since not long after she took over and she has made some great changes. A drink sounds great, I know the perfect place. Very, intimate. It will be the perfect place to talk about what happened with Penelope and its right around the corner.”

  Sounds perfect was what filled my mind but my lips simply said, “Lead the way.”

  Chapter nine

  He had said this place was intimate but this is not what I thought he meant. This place had no more than ten ‘couples tables’ with only two seats per table and five booths lined in the back corner of the restaurant. And to make it infinitely more intimate, it was completely deserted.

  Selecting the middle booth nestled away in the corner so that if anyone did come in they would be unlikely to even notice us, he held out his hand to me offering for me to be seated first. I don’t know if he was being chivalrous for the sake of getting into my pants, which I didn’t mind given my irritating infatuation with this man I just met, better to get him naked now and go back to normal tomorrow I suppose, or if he was being nice because he was just nice. I hoped for the former. Wouldn’t want this well crafted creation to be the one Jackson and Penelope used to joke about. They used to tell me that despite my resistance, I would one day meet a man who I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from falling for. I’m not a love girl. I’m a knocking boots and walking away kinda girl. Both when I had a work order and when I didn’t.

  The waitress came over after about five minutes to get our drink orders. I ordered a Jack Daniels with coke, getting a smile of approval from Daniel as he ordered the same thing.

  “You don’t seem like a whiskey drinker to me.” He eyed me with a questioning look.

  “I don’t look like a part time hooker that keeps a piece in her boot either. Looks can be very deceiving,” I laughed.

  “Touché,” he said, laughing along with me.

  The waitress brought us our drinks, and several more in the hours that we sat in the quiet little corner café tucked in the heart of a never sleeping city. When I finally thought to check the time I was surprised to see it was almost eleven. It felt like we had only been there for about an hour, but it was closer to six.

  Daniel looked me square in the eye and smiled as he reached his hand across the table, placing it on top of mine which against all mental reservations, make me go weak in the knees like a seventeen year old on the date with her boyfriend of three weeks. I hated that feeling. Girls like that made me want to be sick. Right now I was one of those girls.

  “Want to continue
our talk back at my place; I think these guys might want to go home.”

  I hesitated, which was something I had never done. Although to be completely fair, this is the first time anyone has asked me to come back to their place. I have always worked under fake names and gone on dates to get the invite home so I could do my job. This was a new experience and there was something about him. Could it simply be the fact that he was also an assassin who also got a sick pleasure out of killing people and getting paid for it? Or was there more to it. God, I hope he isn’t the guy Jackson and Penelope warned me about. It may have been a joke to them, but to me it was a warning to never let anyone know Tamikah, the full time assassin who uses call girl tactics to lure unsuspecting yet completely deserving, victims.

  Silencing the sounds of my for lack of a better term, parents and their laughter from my mind, I smiled back at Daniel. You know what they say about curiosity and the cat? Well, I guess I'm about to find out how much truth there is to that one.

  I agreed, letting him lead the way for the second time tonight. I didn’t know my way around Sydney very well, only having been here a couple of times, and I’ll be buggered if I’m going to volunteer to get lost in this place at this time of night. That was my excuse and I would be sticking with it.

  Chapter ten

  We walked along the dark streets for approximately ten minutes, standing so close that our shoulders stole a soft touch every few steps. As much as I didn’t want to be, I was aware of his every move, his smell was like warm pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream on your birthday.

  We arrived at his building. It was an eight storey apartment block with his apartment situated on the third floor. For a guy who had a lot of money he didn’t splash it around like most people. It was admirable in a way. Not in a ‘trying to avoid suspicion from the cops’ kind of way like my last mark but more like he only got what he needed rather than being obnoxious with his cash kind of way.

  His apartment was a single bedroom with a study. Stainless steel filled the open plan kitchen, sparkling in the dim light of the small table lamp that sat on the round side table by the couch. The lounge was an L shape, the longer length Daniel had used for the lounge and the smaller length he had decided to use as a dining room, a square four seater table sitting in the centre with a chair neatly placed on each length.

  The thing that really excited me about his home, the entertainment unit, the coffee table, the side tables, the dining table and the chairs. They were all redwood, my favourite. He had a large black fluffy rectangle shaped rug with red swirls scattered throughout in the middle of the section he had made for the lounge room. If I didn’t know better, Id think he decorated this room specifically for my arrival.

  A three seater black suede couch took pride of place along the longer side of the rug with two black suede recliners on each of the shorter ends and the entertainment unit opposite the couch. It looked amazing. For someone who doesn’t splurge with the money he makes, he still managed to make his house look great although the stuff he did have was all top of the line. Guess he just likes to spend more on luxury that he does on quantity and this was indeed luxurious.

  I sat down on the centre cushion of the couch, and after fetching us both yet another drink and turning on the soundbar that sat on the unit in front of the tv, allowing soft waves of music to surround the room with the help of the speakers fixed to the wall in each of the two corners of the wall behind the unit. He sat down next to me, our thighs touching for a moment as he sat down. I hoped that by selecting the middle seat, he would choose to sit with me rather than keeping a distance and sitting down on one of the chairs. However brief the contact, it sent a surge of electricity through my whole body, intensifying my urge to jump him and judging by the look he gave me, he felt it too which both excited and terrified me.

  I don’t believe in love and I don’t think I ever will but there was a definite spark between us. Something about him made me insanely warm in places I’d rather not say out loud and I don’t just mean sexually.

  He made the first real move, placing his hand on my thigh. I was wearing a black knee length pencil skirt with black stockings and black heels which were accompanied by a deep blue, short sleeved, v-neck, business shirt. The line of the shirt was quite low, exposing a great view of my cleavage.

  Turning his body to face mine, his knee bent against the back of the couch, drawing his calf up to rest firmly against my outer thigh. He looked at me and I could see the hunger in his eyes that matched my own. A soft smile played on his lips as he searched for something to say.

  “What is it about you, Tamikah that is so intoxicating?” It was as if he was having the same internal battle I was, which unfortunately made me want him even more. I tried to convince myself that this was nothing more than a sex driven infatuation, but the hunger to know everything about him, to let him in, was overwhelming and I didn’t even know when his birthday was. I had never been so taken so quickly and I didn’t like it. I didn’t trust it. But man was I so crazy horny now. I would have him and then I would pray to God that I could walk into the office tomorrow and have this feeling be gone.

  He took my hand in his own in my silence and spoke again, “I’m not saying that you ‘light up the room’ or something ridiculous, but man do you draw attention when you enter a room. From the moment I saw you, I had to get to know you. This might be forward of me to say, but I had to see what was hiding under all that bravado. I had to have you.”

  He placed both our hands on my thigh for a moment, intertwining his fingers around mine as he guided my hand down the length of my skirt, finding the hem line before bringing them back up my inner thigh, this time under my skirt.

  Outstretching his hand at the top of my thigh he started to caress my inner thigh by bringing his fingertips up to meet with the base of mine and then releasing them again until his hand was once again flat and wrapped around my thigh, my hand still nestled underneath. He repeated the gesture several times, smiling each time I arched my back or tilted my pelvis, before I retrieved my own hand and gripped him around the neck, drawing him in to me until our lips met, first soft and alluring then fierce and hungry.

  With my arms draped around his shoulders as he massaged my inner thigh, I turned my torso toward him, pushing him backwards into the arm of the chair and freeing myself from the torture that was his hands close enough to drive me crazy but still too far away to make a real impact.

  Sliding my hand down his torso, undoing the buttons to reveal his softly defined chest as I made my way down until finally reaching the lining of his jeans where I could feel his attraction pulsing against the zipper, pleading to set him free.

  His hands grasped tightly against my lower back as his kisses grew hungrier still until it became too much for him, shifting his hands so that one hand clasped the back of my neck, keeping my body as close to his as possible while his other hand found its way underneath my torso, pulling on the top of the waistband of my skirt until he managed to create enough distance between the outer layers and found contact with my underwear which he rubbed against softly, causing me to exhale loudly as the sensation exhilarated me on a whole new level.

  We were lost in our own little world of quiet pleasure, just close enough to entice without the skin on skin contact, gripping one another with our free hand as if letting go would kill us both. Next thing I know he shifted his hand to one side and within seconds had closed the finite distance between my bare flesh and his, plunging his middle and index finger into me, releasing the tension I had been holding on to for what felt like an eternity.

  Quickly following suit, I unzipped his pants and took hold of him with a tight grasp. He was so hard I could feel his pulse and genuinely thought he would burst at the seams if he was made to wait any longer. I slid my hand along his shaft, maintaining a firm grip that made him groan as if he had never been touched before, his chest rising with each movement until our bodies jolted almost simultaneously and it was over. Or so I
thought.

  What he did next I can honestly say I had never seen anyone do before. He slowly slid his fingers out of me and then placed them in his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact. Doesn’t really float my boat but he looked like he was enjoying it, muttering to himself as if he had just sampled the sweetest French vanilla ice cream ever.

  Leaning forward he gripped both arms around my waist, tilting our bodies until I became the one on my back before he loosened his grip and lowered himself down, pulling down my skirt and stockings so that they were around my ankles before wedging the material between his thighs and torso so that I couldn’t move my legs.

  I arched my back as the feeling of his tongue brought me to the brink and towards the finish line once more. I gripped onto his hair with one hand, running my fingers through it, while the other hand gripped the back of the couch, my nails digging into the suede so deep I was surprised they didn’t tear a chunk out of it.

  Moaning loudly as sweat started dripping down my forehead, I climaxed for a second time. If you think I wanted him before, you can imagine how badly I want to completely consume him now. I couldn’t control the feelings and the visual representations my body produced where unlike anything I had ever experience before in my life. But even with a saturated chin, he still didn’t stop. He kept right on going, my legs still trapped with my clothing held in place under him, my knees twitching and my toes curling inside my stockings. It was the greatest and most tantalising feeling and the heightening sensation of post orgasm were driving me crazy with pleasure and he bloody well knew it too.

  Bringing me to climax for a third time before finally raising his head and giving me a moment of rest that my body so desperately deserved but at the same time didn’t actually want. I feel sorry for anyone who sits on his couch after tonight. The tingles rippling through my body were better than any drug money could buy.