by Tinnean
“That isn’t necessary, you know,” she murmured as she watched me. “I can no longer get pregnant.”
I stopped what I was doing and reached over to cup her cheek. “Zhenshchina, in our line of work, it’s not a good idea to have kids, but I’m sorry that option was taken from you. I’ll kill Anacapri for you if you like.”
“Will you?” She tugged off the slip and tossed it aside. She was naked under it.
“Sure.”
She leaned up and kissed me. Her lips were soft and warm, and they didn’t cling to mine long enough. “Thank you, Mark. But I’ll deal with her in my own time.”
“Just know you can count on me—for anything, at any time.”
“And you also.”
I didn’t laugh. She was a small woman, but she was deadly.
Her hair, out of its tight chignon, was long and silky and flowed around her shoulders and over her breasts like a blonde waterfall. I coiled a strand around a finger and brought it to my lips.
In that moment, if I thought she’d accept a proposal, I would have asked her to come away with me… live with me, form our own spy agency.
***
At the end of our time together, I walked out of the hotel with her to the cab that was waiting at the curb. She’d told me it had been sent by the Division and the driver would see she arrived there safely.
I walked around to the driver’s side and leaned down to speak to him. “Make sure she stays safe.” I stared into Giuliani’s eyes. “If anything happens to her this time, I’ll come looking for you, and when I find you, you’ll be a long time dying.”
He grunted his agreement.
“Cher Mark.” She paused before getting into the cab. If you knew what to look for, you could see the satisfaction in her eyes behind those ugly glasses, the glow to her skin from having been well-loved. “I have allowed you to call me Zhenshchina, but I must ask that you forget you ever knew that name.”
“I understand.” I kissed her hand, kissed her cheek, kissed her mouth. “Just as long as you don’t ask me to forget you.”
That was the last time a woman had been in my bed—Femme was a hard act to follow, and as a matter of fact, it had been almost a year before I’d had sex with anyone.
Well… I’d been busy.
But then Quinn came into my life, and with the way things were going between us, it wasn’t likely anyone else would ever be there.
Quinn and I were exclusive. Would he be interested in no longer using—
The Boss disrupted my train of thought by pushing the antipasto platter toward me. “Have an artichoke heart, Mark, and we’ll discuss this policy of yours.”
Chapter 18
After sfogliatelli and espresso, The Boss paid with a company credit card. “We talked business,” he said blandly.
“Yes, sir.”
I dropped him off in front of his apartment building in Dupont Circle and headed home.
It was almost ten when I got there. Pita met me at the door, meowing to let me know she was starving and held me responsible for her condition. This was why I was reluctant to have a pet. “Sorry, cat. No, no leftovers. Trust me, you wouldn’t have enjoyed the eggplant parmigiana—cats don’t care for purple vegetables. And The Boss finished his veal. Just give me a minute.”
I went to the pantry shelf where I’d stored the cat food, took out a can, and popped the lid. Once I’d spooned it into the bowl, I set it down on the floor. Then I rinsed the can for recycling, refilled her water bowl with fresh water, and placed it beside her food.
“When Quinn and I go to dinner on Friday, I promise I’ll bring you something back. Now enjoy your dinner. I’m gonna be busy.”
I hung up my overcoat and checked for messages—just one, Quinn saying he needed to talk to me. I sent a text to Pete and called Quinn.
“Hi babe. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He sounded a little on edge.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Did he want me to come over and help him relax?
I grinned and was about to ask him, when he said, “I understand there was a minor bloodbath at the WBIS today.”
Shit. All thoughts of sex went down the tubes. “How’d you hear that?”
“A former WBIS director paid us a visit. He’s out for blood, Mark—yours, most specifically—and he’s willing to do just about anything if the CIA will help him get it.”
“Bastard.” I’d have to tell The Boss about this.
“It doesn’t look good. Kirkpatrick and Drum were there. I have a feeling Jenner contacted them.” Jenner had been brought in as a temporary replacement for Holmes—and if he didn’t want to make it permanent, then I was a monkey’s uncle—but he still worked out of his original department, which was probably why he was dealing with Davies. “If it was any agent other than you I’d let them do as they pleased, but… it is you. I tried to block them—”
“Jesus Christ! Are you out of your fucking mind?”
He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “You’d better be glad you’re on the other end of this line, because if you were here, I’d give you a smack in the head. I can deal with the Company.”
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, my cock twitched. He was cute when he got irritated. “That wasn’t what I meant. Quinn, you love your job. The last thing I want is for you to get canned because of me.”
“I’m an adult, Mark. I can take care of myself. Now will you let me finish what I was trying to say?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Wiseass. I questioned how much we could trust someone who’d been with the WBIS for so many years. I’m hoping it’s done some good, but it remains to be seen. Jenner was so thrilled I thought he was going to have an orgasm right there.”
“Not a pretty sight, I’m willing to bet. So what’s the upshot?”
“Davies is to come in again on Friday. They’ll do a background check in the meanwhile.”
It was going to take them four days to find out what Davies was and what he had to offer? Even though Quinn couldn’t see, I shook my head. But the good thing was this would give us some time to come up with a plan for him.
“Mark… They’re not going to wait for Friday. They’ll have someone trying to hack into Davies’s computer as soon as they can, and once they breach his security, they’ll have access to every computer in the WBIS.”
Did Quinn think it would be that simple? As soon as Davies had been escorted from the building, his computer had been locked down. The CIA wouldn’t have an easy time of it.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be, babe.” Yeah, I could tell. It was nice of him. Unnecessary, but nice. “I haven’t done a thing they can hang on me.”
“What about Wexler?”
“What about him?”
“Mark.” He was getting impatient.
“Wexler had a stroke, which resulted in a car accident, and if anyone questions that or goes farther and actually looks into it, that’s all they’ll learn. You were in Great Falls visiting your mother—”
“I’m not concerned about me!”
“— and I was in Costa Rica, fishing off my boat. There’s nothing we could have done to the son of a bitch, since we were nowhere in the vicinity. Seriously, Quinn, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not worried about—” He breathed heavily. “Why do I argue with you?”
“Beats hell out of me. Hey, guess what!” I needed to distract him. “The Boss made me his second-in-command!”
“Yes? I’m not surprised. But you should have told me sooner. I’d have come over with a bottle of champagne.”
“It’s still not too late,” I said, putting a hopeful tone in my voice, and that got him to laugh.
“I’m afraid it is. I have an early flight out of Dulles tomorrow.”
“Oh? Where to?” I hadn’t heard of any operations that needed his expertise.
“London. I’m taking a f
ew personal days. Mother intends to see Jack Abberley, and I volunteered to go with her. We’ll be gone about a week. I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check for Friday.”
Well, that sucked, but I knew how much his mother meant to him, and I’d never try to get between them. “How early do you have to leave?”
“I told Mother I’d pick her up at three thirty.”
I looked at the clock. Five hours and change until he’d have to get on the road, and he’d probably be too stressed to get any sleep. I could do something about that.
“Be a good girl,” I whispered to the kitten. I grabbed my keys, let myself out, and locked the door behind me.
“Did you say something, Mark?”
“So what’s going on with Portia’s godmother’s son?” I took the stairs to the lobby.
“I’m not even going to ask how you’re aware of who he is. Jack’s always had a fondness for Mother, and now that she’s with Gregor… By the way, she loved the roses.”
“Yeah? I’m glad.” It only took me a few minutes to get to the garage, put the phone in hands free mode, and back the Dodge out. A couple minutes more, and I was on the road to Quinn’s town house.
“It’s a good thing they weren’t red. Gregor would have challenged you to a duel.”
He wouldn’t have won. “Babe, if I was going to send anyone red roses, it would be you.”
Quinn sucked in a breath. “Really, Mark?”
“Yeah.” Why did he sound so…. Oh. Red roses were for…. “Really, Quinn.” I cleared my throat. “So… uh… she’s going to break it to Abberley that she’s off the market?”
“Yes, and she wants to tell Jack in person. Jefferson was going with her, but he’s come down with some kind of spring bug, or maybe it’s food poisoning. When I spoke to Ludo this morning, he wasn’t sure. At any rate, I’ll be going in Jeff’s place. If I’d known…. I wish I didn’t have to be out of the country while this is happening with Davies, but….”
“It’s okay, babe.” It was actually perfect. I didn’t want him coming under question for what was going to happen. He didn’t need to know that though.
“Call me if you need me.”
“You’re going to be in London.” I pulled up in front of his town house.
“I know.” He sighed.
“The problem will most likely be settled by the time you come home.”
He sighed again. “Call me anyway?”
“Okay. I’ve gotta go, babe. Have a safe flight, and good luck with Abberley.”
“Thanks.” He sighed for a third time. “Bye, Mark.”
“Bye, Quinn.” I disconnected the call, got out of the Dodge and locked it, and then jogged up the path to his front door. It had been almost a year since the last time I’d jimmied his lock. I disarmed his security system and let myself in. The first floor was dim. I made sure his house was secure before heading to the second floor, shedding my clothes as I went and leaving them dangling from the banister.
By the time I reached Quinn’s master bedroom, all I wore was my shorts, socks, and clutch piece. I eased the door open. The lamp on the night table was the only illumination in the room.
Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hair was disheveled, he looked tired, and there was tension in the line of his shoulders. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled.
“Hey, babe.” I leaned against the doorframe and stripped off my socks.
He looked up in shock. “Mark! What—” He took in my near-naked state, and suddenly he didn’t look as tired.
I skimmed my shorts off my hips and down my legs and launched myself at him.
He could have shoved me off. He could have slugged me. He did neither. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and turned his head, seeking my mouth.
We were both breathless when we finally broke the kiss. Quinn did push me off him then. I propped myself up on an elbow and watched as he tore almost frantically at his clothes.
He paused for a second, his hands on his fly. “You could help, you know.”
“Okay.” I slithered off the bed, unlaced his shoes and removed them, and tossed them aside. Then I pushed him flat on the bed and got his trousers and shorts off in one smooth movement. “You can get your shirt off, can’t you?”
“Yes, Mark.”
While he did that, I opened the drawer of his night table and took out lube and a condom. I had the condom on and slicked up, but he was still struggling with his cuff buttons.
“Forget about ’em,” I growled. I tugged, sending them flying across the room, and wrestled him out of his shirt. It didn’t take much lube to get him ready, and then I was sliding into him.
Quinn gave a massive, full-body shudder. “Oh, God, I needed this.” He locked his heels under my butt and stroked and petted my shoulders and back and wherever he could reach. “I wanted to ask you to come.”
“Not there yet, babe.”
He laughed and nipped my earlobe. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Gotta take care of my guy, don’t I?”
“I’m glad you’re my significant other.”
“So am I.” And who’d have thought? I rocked my hips forward and nudged his prostate.
The heat of his channel surrounded me, and the rhythmic clenching of his inner muscles caressed the length of my cock.
I couldn’t draw this out, though. Quinn needed to get some sleep; he’d never sleep on the flight to London.
I drove in faster, harder, and dipped my head so I could latch onto his right nipple. I curled my tongue around it and tugged, while I wrapped my fingers around his cock and jerked him off. His nipples were super sensitive, and a few times I’d actually made him come just from toying with them, but not this time.
He dug his nails into my back, and I knew I’d have scratch marks over my shoulder blades. They’d sting when I took my shower in the morning, but who fucking cared? His semen, hot and wet, splashed onto my abdomen, and that was all that mattered.
And then he whispered something in my ear, and I shivered into my own climax.
It took me some time to catch my breath, and then I said, “Quinn?”
“Mmm?” He unhooked his ankles, groaned, and lay spread out beneath me.
“Did you… did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” He yawned and stretched, arching into my body.
“Nothing.” It was probably just something that had slipped out because I’d made him come so hard. “I’ve got to go.” I went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth.
“Can you stay?”
“I’d better not.” I cleaned the semen off his body. “You’ve got to get up early.” And I had to wait for that return call from Pete.
“Thank you,” Quinn murmured.
“Any time.”
“No, I meant thank you for coming here.”
“I knew that was what you meant. I’m gonna set the alarm for three, okay?” He’d wake up alert, and that should give him enough sleep until he could get to London and crash for a few hours.
“Sounds good, babe. Thanks.”
“Welcome. Make sure you catch up on your sleep when you get to London.” I kissed the corner of his mouth, then got him under the covers. His breathing was soft and even. “’Night, Sleeping Beauty.”
“’Night, Rhett.” There was a smile on his lips. Was he dreaming of me telling him he should be kissed long and often and by someone who knew how? I reached down and patted his ass—now wasn’t the time for fondling—and found my shorts and socks.
I bit back a laugh. I’d kept my clutch piece around my ankle the entire time.
I turned out the lamp, but couldn’t resist going back one more time to kiss him. “Forever, babe.”
That wasn’t what I really wanted to say, but it would have to do.
About twenty-five minutes after I got home, my phone rang, the hauntingly ironic notes of “Cette Vie Enchantée.” It had been a bitch and a half to find the
song, but it meant a lot to my friend Pete.
“Mark—”
“Sounds like you’re in deep shit, Pete. What’s going on?”
“Kiska. I never thought—”
“I always said you were too fucking vain!” I recognized Reuben’s voice, snarling in the background. “That blonde witch batted her baby blues at you, and you were willing to believe she was a helpless innocent who was incidentally madly in love with you, in spite of the fact that you’re gay and have a lover.”
“Enough, Reuben! You were right and I was a fool. Can we get past it now?”
“Not if it winds up with us dead! Okay, okay, I’m gonna go make us some coffee. Give my regards to Vincent.”
I listened carefully, but there was no crack of doom… the world wasn’t coming to an end.
On the other end of the line, Pete gave a heavy sigh and spoke into the receiver. “I’ve tried to explain to Reuben. It’s not that I was drawn to Kiska physically. It was just that.…” He muttered something under his breath, and then said, “I’m a Frenchman.”
“Pete, I don’t want to sound cold, but we’ve got a situation that has to be dealt with.”
“C’est vrai, mon ami. And things are not well here.”
“You’re all safe?”
“For the moment. However, I don’t know how true that will be if your organization throws its weight behind Tactics.”
“Not likely. The Boss wasn’t happy to get that message from Lynx.” You didn’t order around a man like Trevor Wallace, even if you’d saved his ass thirty-three years ago. “We’re meeting in the morning with the Director of Foreign Affairs. Will you be safe enough where you are?”
“We should be. We were able to liberate some of the operatives who were in Limbo.”
“Only some?” I didn’t ask him if that was a good idea. Limbo was where Division operatives were figuratively sent when they’d screwed up one time too many. Their next assignment after that generally resulted in their deaths. Even incompetent operatives could be deadly when they realized they were standing on that proverbial banana peel, and I didn’t blame Pete for wanting as many on his side as he could get.
“Eh. It seems Kiska is the Scarlet Chamber’s own little Machiavelli.” Well, if she’d duped Lynx, if she’d gotten to Pete…. “She promised that if they came with her, they would have a better chance at survival than with Tactics.”