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Private Eye

Page 31

by Katrina Jackson


  She and Kenny had arrived at a private villa in the mountains on the outskirts of Oahu in the afternoon and immediately passed out for the rest of the day. Now that they were awake, showered and had even eaten, Maya was beginning to feel like herself again. But her real self had two younger siblings who needed her. Or at least, they used to need her. She’d been shocked to turn her phone on for the first time in at least a day to find text messages from her siblings independently asking if she would be mad if they didn’t come to New Jersey for Thanksgiving. Kaya wanted to go to New Mexico with her new special friend. And Jerome’s lab partner had invited him to stay local and spend the holiday with his family. Maya was shocked to realize that her shoulders had relaxed as she read those messages.

  Kaya was right, this would be the first time they wouldn’t spend the holiday together since their mother had died. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe, she thought to herself, that meant they were finally healing. She certainly felt that way; as if she could let go of them just the tiniest bit and watch them become their own people. And maybe this was her time to take control of her life again.

  There was a splash in the pool outside.

  Maybe it was time she lives for herself again.

  “Does this have anything to do with you asking us how to tell someone you like them?” Jerome asked carefully.

  Maya grabbed her phone and moved to the window. It looked down on the pool. “Yeah,” she breathed.

  “Well look at us,” Kaya said. “Us misfit orphans aren’t doing so bad on the relationship front this year, huh?”

  “I- I’m not in a relationship,” Jerome breathed self-consciously.

  “Not yet,” Maya said, as her eyes tracked Kenny’s body cutting gracefully through the water.

  “So are you going to tell us anything else?” Kaya asked.

  “No,” she replied. “It’s too soon.” She tore her eyes away. “The point is that it’s completely fine that you two spend the holidays with your boos. I’ll miss you, but we deserve to be happy together and apart.”

  Her siblings were silent for a few seconds before they burst into laughter.

  “How corny,” Kaya breathed.

  “Okay, Maya Angelou,” Jerome said and Kaya cackled loudly.

  Maya rolled her eyes and smiled. “You two are the biggest dicks,” she breathed. “You’re very lucky I love you.”

  ***

  Kenny lifted himself from the pool, planted his foot on the edge and stood. He ran his hands over his head and stopped. Maya was standing on the deck, just outside of the house, staring at him. Wearing a very small pink bikini with white polka dots.

  His eyes raked over her body, from her curly hair to her softly rounded chin, to the gentle drooping mounds of her breasts, across the slope of her stomach that hung just over the top of her bikini. His eyes darted to the sides, something about the ties at her hips made his throat go dry. His eyes kept traveling down, over her thighs and folded flesh of her knees and then her adorable toes, painted a bright white that caught his attention.

  “Haven’t you had enough of just looking at me?”

  He huffed a laugh and stalked toward her. When he was close, she turned around and ran. The way her soft flesh moved gently with each stride made his heart beat faster and he groaned, running after her, but not fast enough to catch her. At least not yet.

  She looked over her shoulder to made sure he was following. She took the stairs and the view of her ass above him made him almost double over in pain as his dick hardened in his swim shorts.

  Just inside their bedroom he sped up and grabbed her from behind. She yelped and giggled. He’d never felt anything so perfect as her body in his arms. He pressed her gently against the wall just inside the room. She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, panting.

  He moved his mouth to her jaw, licked at her flesh, until their mouths met.

  “Condoms?” She whispered into his mouth.

  “Boxes,” he whispered back as he gripped her waist and ground his erection into her ass.

  She groaned and he could have lost it right there.

  “What are you waiting for?” She whined.

  He slipped his tongue into her mouth as his hands played with those ties at her hips. She suckled on his tongue slowly and he pulled those ties apart just as slow. He increased the pressure of his lips against hers and slid their tongues together. She moaned into his mouth. He might have said that he’d never tasted anything as sweet, but he could still remember the way her pussy tasted on his tongue. And he wanted to taste it again. But there would be time for that.

  When he had her bikini bottoms untied, he moved his foot between hers, spreading her legs apart. She smiled against his mouth as they kissed. He palmed the wide globes of her ass, rubbing and squeezing, until eventually he slid one finger down her crack. She arched her back and moaned as that finger came in contact with her sex. He slipped his hand between her legs, turned his arm and cupped her.

  “Oh my god,” she breathed into their kiss.

  She was already wet. His balls were heavy in his shorts. He wanted her to touch him desperately. Just as he thought that, her hand snaked around and she cupped his sex through his shorts.

  He laughed in pure, debilitating, wild lust. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth.

  Kenny drew his fingers along the cleft of Maya’s sex, her wet folds felt like velvet. He circled her clit and their tongues tangled as she managed to maneuver her hand into his shorts.

  She grunted in frustration. He smiled and used his free hand to help her push his shorts over his hips. They fell down his legs and he stepped one foot out so that he could widen his stance, open his legs further and give her access to his cock. His hand was wet from her pussy and he moved it to his dick, using her juices to lubricate himself.

  “Oh fuck,” she groaned, putting her forehead against the wall and starting to stroke him slowly.

  He grabbed her chin and turned her head so that he could kiss her again as his hand went back between her legs. He used the pads of three fingers to rub her clit, slow and firm, like he always saw her do when she wanted to get herself ramped up quickly. Her keening whines let him know that he was doing it right.

  “Please,” she mumbled awkwardly, unwilling to move her mouth too far from his.

  He shivered at the way that word tasted on her tongue in his mouth and slipped a finger into her cunt.

  They both groaned and stilled. Their panting breaths filled the room. Their bodies were hot, all of the water from the pool on Kenny’s body had evaporated, but sweat was building at the places where their skin touched.

  Kenny registered in that moment that Maya smelled like sweet peaches and his hips jerked when he realized that he would smell like that soon. He slowly added a second finger into her pussy. He wanted her scent all over him.

  Her hand started to move as their kiss resumed. But this time everything was less measured. They had wanted to tease each other before; get one another worked up. But now the pressure was building and they wanted to come; wanted to make each other come. Their hands moved wildly, their tongues slid together, their lips crushing and sliding.

  Kenny moved his hand from her chin to her chest. He wanted to grope her breasts and pluck at her nipples, but there would be time for that later as well. He pulled her body back toward his so that he could run his palm over her belly and between her legs.

  “Oh god,” she moaned as his fingers settled over her clit.

  Her orgasm was wild and wet and shuddering, but her hand didn’t stop jacking him off. Not until he came in his own shuddering mess over her palm and on her hip.

  “Maya,” he mumbled against her lips.

  “Yea,” she said with a laugh, “I know. I’m great.”

  Their laughter was thin and reedy; they were out of breath. It was perfect. But it wasn’t enough.

  ***

  Even before she knew his real name or what he looked like or how wet his deep voice cou
ld make her or what his dick felt like in her mouth, Maya knew that the first time she had sex with MasquerAsiaN it would be like this. She was on her back on the bed, her legs open for him, one hand squeezing her left breast – her thumb running over her hardened nipple – and the other massaging her pussy. Kenny was standing over her, his eyes drinking her in as he rolled a condom down his shaft.

  “Hurry,” she said and laughed. “Or I’m going to charge you.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “I think we’ve already established that I’ll pay whatever price you set.”

  Her hands stilled and her heart swelled. “Fuck that was smooth too. Where did all this game come from?”

  He ducked and shook his head and then gripped her behind the knees, pulling her closer to him. They both held their breath as he lowered his hips and slid his dick along her lips. When the head of his cock came into contact with her clit she jumped and he moaned. He sunk into her slowly. Too slowly. She wanted to tell him to hurry it up. She was horny. Very horny. This was months of anticipation and she wanted him fast and hard and now. But this was months of anticipation, so she got it. He wanted to savor every second, every inch, as he slid into her. They held their breaths. When he was fully inside, he stilled. He leaned over to run his tongue over her thumb and suck it into his mouth along with her nipple.

  “Oh fuck,” she whispered in a strained tone.

  He sucked on one breast and palmed the other as he began to move out of her just as slowly as he slid in.

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she growled.

  He laughed and lifted his head. He pulled out almost to the tip and then began to sink into her again. Just as slowly as before. Apparently, he was not kidding. He lowered his head to her other breast.

  “I’m never going to come like this,” she whined.

  “I know,” he mumbled against her skin.

  She pushed at his shoulders until they were eye-to-eye. His gaze was playful, bright, and mischievous. Her mouth fell open in surprise and she shook her head. How did he seem to remember every conversation they’d ever had? Even in a moment like this. She pushed him off of her.

  “Get on the bed,” she demanded.

  “Whatever you want,” he said.

  There was a moment when Kenny was just her client. They’d once had a marathon chat session about exactly how he would fuck her if they ever met. It was pure fantasy. She had one of those chats with a different customer once a month at least. Except it wasn’t. She didn’t know how to explain it then, but every word she’d typed to him had been exactly what she wanted. From him. Especially after he told her that the only thing he wanted wasn’t to fuck her, but to let her fuck him. He wanted her to take control. That was her catnip.

  Kenny sprawled his body on the bed, stacking two pillows under his head so that he could see her better. His dick was standing up at attention. From this angle she noticed that it curved slightly to the left. It was perfect. She crawled between his legs and then grinned. She turned away from him, maneuvering her body over his in reverse cowgirl. She lifted one knee, tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned to look at him as she settled slowly onto his dick. She’d see how he liked being on the receiving end of that, she thought to herself.

  Of course he loved it. She shook her head and turned from him. She placed her hands onto his impossibly muscled thighs and started to ride him. Slowly at first; nice and gentle. But then his hands began to roam over her ass and hips and back and then around to palm her breasts and she lost control of herself. Soon enough she was rubbing her clit and bouncing off of his hips while he smacked her ass with just the right amount of pressure and it was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more.

  The room filled with the sound of flesh on flesh and their moans and curses. And when she came with a high-pitched scream and her body wracked with tremors, he didn’t miss a beat. He moved her forward and rose up to his knees behind her. There was no slow entry this time, thank god. He pushed into her smoothly and then fucked her face into the bed, his fingers digging into her hips and her name on his lips. She came again and again and still he rode her, all of those months of need and frustration and longing finally evaporating now that they were together. Truly together.

  But the best part of it all. The part that she would tell him about when she woke up from the nap they would surely fall into after they were done. The thing Kierra would absolutely ask about. The best part was when he came, her name on his lips, and she came one more time with him.

  “Kenny,” she breathed in exhausted glee directly into the comforter underneath her. “Kenny.”

  epilogue

  Asif very rarely felt fear while out in the field. It was such a sporadic emotion for him in general that his training agent had actually recommended he not be allowed to run his own operations. “Likely to get himself, other agents, and civilians killed,” had been the exact words on his performance review. Asif had lodged an official rebuttal of that assessment, pointing out that he loved himself too much to be reckless with his own life. Vanity wasn’t the expected defense in such a situation, but it had worked. The Agency approved him for field work, Asif turned out to be a great provocateur and a year later his training agent was discovered to be a mole. So really it all worked out in the end.

  After almost a decade in the field, Asif had proven that base self-preservation was actually a really wonderful trait for a spy. Fear could be paralyzing. Fear could get you killed. But self-preservation reminded you to run, to yell, to fight, kick, scream, bite. So it wasn’t fear that made Asif slip his cell phone from his pocket and make that phone call. It was self-preservation. He’d go to his grave making that distinction clear if need be.

  “Pearl’s Soul Food,” a feminine voice said when the line connected. He exhaled in relief.

  “It’s me, Chanté,” he said, hoping that his voice didn’t betray the worry – not fear – that she wouldn’t accept his phone call.

  “Oh,” she squealed. And then in a wary tone, “Oh. Have you checked your bank accounts lately?”

  “No,” he hissed, “Why?”

  “No reason,” she said, sounding light and bubbly again. “What accent is this now?”

  He should keep asking questions about what sum of money she’d stolen from him recently so he could add it to the mental tab he kept in his head. But in this particular moment her theft felt like the least important thing in the world. The most important thing was wringing the pleasure of simply hearing Chanté’s voice; a pleasure he’d spent years denying himself.

  It used to be that he would ration the joy of one short conversation over months for endless hours of recycled ecstasy, dodging her calls until he needed another fix, because he’d been too afraid to let her know how happy she made him. But times surely had changed. Now it was she who seemed able to go longer and longer without talking to him. She didn’t even call anymore. And she only picked up sporadically. He hadn’t even seen her since Berlin. But he didn’t think she was rationing their connection; he was terrified that she was weaning herself off of him. But terror, like fear, was a new companion for Asif. He tried not to let the unusual taste of it color his words when he answered her question. “I’m trying for an Australian-Kiwi mix,” he answered. “I’ve got a complicated backstory.”

  “Oooh, I’m listening,” she trilled.

  He smiled in spite of himself. A real genuine smile that felt as rusty as it had when they’d met almost eight years ago and she’d pulled that first unexpected tilt of his lips from him. A loud shout from downstairs reminded him that now was not the time for nostalgia.

  Asif was skirting through the shadows in the balcony above a luxury private casino for the rich and corrupt. It was all very reminiscent of spy movies from the 1970s. The building used to be an opera house and it still held a bit of the elegant ostentation of its former life. But apparently the arts were no match for the caprices of capitalism and greed. Or at least that’s the kind of thing his mother
would have said, her glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose as she drank a delicate cup of tea. His father would have nodded and hummed his agreement as he turned the pages of his morning newspaper.

  Asif slipped further into the shadows and lowered his voice. “Can’t talk much right now.”

  “Well then why’d you call? Or do you need me to hack something?” She sounded giddy at the prospect.

  “No, no I don’t need you to hack anything. You’re a little too subtle for my current situation,” Asif said as he reached the door at the end of the hallway. It led to a stairwell that ran along the eastern edge of the building. “I just wanted to hear your voice,” he admitted.

  Chanté’s breath hitched and his hand stilled on the doorknob. He wanted to ask her to make that sound again, but the rising volume of the escalating argument downstairs once again pulled him back to reality. “Tell me a story,” he whispered as he slowly turned the knob. He inched into the stairwell cautiously. If he headed down, he could be out on the street in a few minutes, hail a cab to the airport and be in another country in a few short hours, scot-free.

  “I got a package of this great biodegradable body glitter today,” Chanté started.

  Asif smiled and headed up the stairs. Where was the fun in scot-free?

  “So you’re probably thinking, ‘Chanté, don’t you have enough body glitter?’ right now,” she said, in a terrible imitation of his Boston accent.

  As it happened, he was thinking exactly that.

  “But this is special glitter,” she said conspiratorially.

  Asif moved swiftly up the two flights of stairs and pushed open the door to the roof. The night air was almost painfully cold. Late fall in Russia felt like full-blown winter back home. He wished for the perfectly good winter coat he’d surrendered at the door of the club, but making a detour to coat check would have been like a neon sign, broadcasting that this Australian was up to no good.

  He focused on the task at hand. At least out here on the roof he could respond to Chanté. “What’s so special about this glitter?” His teeth began to chatter. He walked to the northeast corner of the roof and knelt down. The bundle of explosives was right where he’d left it earlier this morning.

 

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