Francois was already up, holding Jordan by the arm as he led her toward the now useless door. "Add another twenty."
I nodded, after all, we were taking the store's wire hand basket as well, not wanting to take the time to bag up everything. Tossing the kid another bill, I smiled and left, making sure to step on the addict as I walked away. Back in the car, Jordan stared at the both of us with a strange light in her eyes as Francois started up the Jeep and pulled away. "Hope the cops don't respond quickly out here."
"What the hell was that?" Jordan asked, finding her voice. "You're throwing beef stew like Bob Gibson threw fastballs while Felix takes the guy down with barely a ruffled hair, and then you toss the cashier forty dollars and walk out like we're on a stroll."
I laughed. ”You should see him with throwing knives at the celebrations and fairs. As for me, I had the size and strength advantage over him. Once the gun was taken care of, it was no object to disable him. Who is Bob Gibson?"
Jordan looked at me like I was half crazy, her mouth dropping open, before she shook her head, blinking unbelievably. “An old major league pitcher. Grandpa was a big Cardinals fan, and he'd watch the old games on videotape all the time. He talked about Gibson constantly."
I nodded. "Never much of a baseball fan," I said. "As for the money, well, it just seemed like a nice thing to do."
Jordan gaped at me again, then shook her head in amazement. "You two . . .”
"Come on, let's just hope that there wasn't an external security camera there," Francois said. "The chances are low, but I would prefer to not have this Jeep pulled over by the police."
The drive to the ranch was completed in relative silence. Jordan sorted the things we had already gotten into the two shopping baskets like she was packing a lunch for each of us. It broke my heart to watch her carefully pack them, making sure that each of us got exactly the same amount.
We pulled onto the ranch road just as the sun disappeared below the horizon, casting the desert sky in oranges and purples. I saw our target, an SUV with the lights on next to a shape that I assumed was our airplane. It was smaller than I'd hoped but larger than I had feared.
Francois got out and shut off the engine. He left the keys in the ignition and headed toward the back of the Jeep, opening the tailgate. "Can I help?" Jordan asked.
Francois looked at her carefully for a moment, then nodded. "Sure," he said, sadness in his voice. They quickly unloaded our bags, the same duffel bags we'd used all week to carry wood, along with Francois's footlocker, taking them over to the plane. I got the bundle of swords in their cases out of the back and carried them over to the SUV where our agent's representative got out.
"You boys are right on time," he said in thickly accented English. He sounded like he was most likely a Mexican national, which I would not be surprised by. The Mexican Cartels knew plenty about how to move things and people both into and out of the United States. "Ready to go?"
"Not quite," I said. Jordan, who was packing the plane with Francois, wiped her head and turned to go back. I pointed at her with one of the sword cases, one I'd marked specially. "How much for her to join us?"
"You must be crazy,” the man replied. He was wearing a Tecate beer t-shirt and blue jeans, along with what looked like light boots, but that wasn't overly important. I was more concerned with his face, which was simultaneously surprised and greedy. I had a chance. "You bargained for two people."
"And I want to make a change," I said. "How much?"
"How much are you offering?" the man asked, curious. "That is one fine senorita."
I flipped the sword case in my hand over, offering it to him. "Our agent is supposed to get seven blades. This is number eight. It was supposed to be my personal memento of this job. It's complete, battle ready, and the finest blade produced in Japan in the past decade. She comes along — it's yours."
The man considered it, then looked at the plane. "That's a four-seat Cessna. The range is going to be shorter because of the extra weight, and your pilot is not going to be a happy man. You kick in another . . . ten thousand, and you have a deal."
I nodded. It was a rip-off, I knew, but for Jordan, it was more than worth it. "Before I agree, let me do one thing."
The man nodded, and I turned. "Jordan? Jordan!"
Jordan, who was standing by the Jeep, looked up, her eyes glittering with tears in the light of the headlamps from the SUV. "What?"
"Come here!" I called, waving. Francois looked up from where he was arranging his items in the plane, a shocked look on his face. He knew what was going to happen, even though he couldn't believe it. He started over, his face written with outrage. I had to move fast.
"What do you want, Felix?" Jordan asked, trying to hold back her tears. "A hug goodbye?"
I shook my head. I took her hand and looked her in the eye. "I want you to come with us. Would you be willing to give up your life in the States to come with us?”
Before she could answer, Francois shoved me away. "Vous êtes fou, Felix? Êtes-vous sur de votre putain de tête?"
"Surveillez votre putain de langue, Nicolae. Je suis le roi, tu te souviens?" I yelled back. I hated to use my position for such a personal need, but I had no time to debate this with him. "You will not be put out financially from this. I will cover it all from my share."
Francois stared at me with hate in his eyes for a second, then shook his head. "No, it will come equally from both of us. You're putting our lives and hers at risk, but so be it.”
He stalked away, heading toward the plane. I took the few steps back to Jordan, who was still standing there with a shocked look on her face. "Well, what do you say?"
Jordan nodded dumbly, her voice failing her. I took her hand again, and pulled her in close. “I know this is the right decision,” I whispered in her ear. “Somehow, I just know.”
"But I don't even know your full name yet, Felix," she replied. “And I’m running off to another country with you.“
I chuckled and led her away from the Mexican, who was watching us with a sort of bored curiosity. "My full name is Felix Gudada Hardy," I told her softly. "I will tell you anything else you could ask me, as soon as we are away from these men. I don’t trust them."
She looked me in the eye, then nodded. Pulling my head down we kissed, and I held her tight for a moment. "Hey, Romeo, time's ticking," the Mexican said. "Save that shit for when you're actually in Mexico, okay?"
I nodded and let go of Jordan, pushing her lightly toward the plane. "Go. Francois isn't upset with you — he wants you just as much as I do. Go find a seat, I'll be there in a moment."
I turned back to the Mexican and handed him the sword. "The Jeep has a clean title, decent wear and tear, and a half tank of gasoline. It's yours as well."
"My employer will still expect the extra money. I will inform him while you are in the air still."
I shrugged, not caring. “It can come out of our share of the money. The Jeep you can keep as a personal thanks to you."
Chapter 13
Jordan
Santa Rosalia was a tiny little city on the Baja California coast, quiet and isolated. Supposedly a hub for mining in the area, I couldn't even really call it a city it was so small. Landing at nearly three in the morning, I was a zombie for the ride to the hotel that we'd rented. I barely noticed what the place was like other than it had a large, soft bed that I collapsed into bonelessly, grateful for the relative silence after the hours of the droning, cramped Cessna. Supposedly designed for four adults, the plane had less room in the back seats than an Italian sports car.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of small waves lapping at rocks, blinking against the morning sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtain. "Good morning beautiful," Felix greeted me, sitting down on the side of the bed. "How was your sleep?"
I stretched, feeling like a kitten in a ball of silk, smiling. "Good. But I must still be sleeping."
"Why?" he asked, reaching up and stroking my hair.
; "Because I'm supposed to be alone on the side of the road, somewhere near Victorville right now," I said, taking his hand and kissing it. "Not waking up in a tropical paradise warmed by the sun, looking at a man who just gave up a hell of a lot just to keep me near him. I must be dreaming."
Felix shook his head, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "No dream. We will be here for a week actually."
"I thought you were living in Europe. At least, I assumed you'd be going back to France or Albania or someplace like that."
Felix nodded. "We will eventually. But first we have to hand over the blades, and then we have to get you travel papers. A fake passport, things like that. Remember, you're a missing person involved in a kidnapping and major theft. You can’t exactly just land at Charles Du Gaulle Airport with your driver's license and not expect problems."
Of course. I had a lot to learn about the lives of the Hardy brothers. "Then my first passport will be a fake one. That's kinda funny if you think about it. So what's the agenda for today then? Hiding out in the hotel room?"
Felix shook his head. "Not at all. This town is small and isolated. The local police aren’t interested in what a couple of gringo tourists do as long as we stay out of trouble. I was thinking, after freezing for so many days, that it would be nice to enjoy the ocean and beach for a while."
"After I get some clothes," I complained. "I feel like I'm going to be exchanging wardrobes on a regular basis with you two.”
"Not quite," Felix replied. "I packed some of your clothes in my bag, and Francois is out right now getting something more appropriate for here. In the meantime, jeans and t-shirts for breakfast?"
"Shower first," I said, stretching again. "It's been a week since I had a proper shower, and while you French guys are supposed to be into it and everything, I need a proper hose down and rinse. I can smell myself, and it's not good."
Felix chuckled and leaned in. We kissed, our lips slowly molding around one another. His tongue traced my lower lip and I opened up to him, pulling him in closer. He was an amazing man, and I felt desire wash through me. I was tempted to pull him further onto the bed when my bladder gave me a warning twinge, and I let go with regret. It seemed my bladder and my libido were in constant conflict over how to start the morning with Felix around because that was twice now. "Sorry. Toilet, then shower, then we'll see what happens."
The shower was small but adequate, with the hot water flowing freely from the shower head, stabbing wonderful needles of heat into my upper back and shoulders. I was just finishing scrubbing my skin when the door to the bathroom opened, and I heard someone come in. "Felix?"
"No, it’s me," Francois said. "I came back from shopping and wanted to leave this on the counter for you. I'll let you finish."
I came out of the shower to find a beautiful skirt and blouse resting on the countertop. Light cotton, the billowy skirt was striped in aquas, light greens and hints of pink that looked like it came from the ocean itself. The blouse was a simple, slightly translucent cotton sleeveless blouse that felt light and airy in my hands. Wrapping my towel around me, I took the outfit into the hotel room, where Francois and Felix were sitting and discussing things quietly in French. Turning to me, Francois's face fell. "You don't like it."
Shaking my head and smiling. "Not at all. I think they're beautiful. But, you forgot something when you put it in the bathroom."
"What?" he asked, his face clearing somewhat.
"Underwear," I teased him lightly. "I don’t plan on walking around all day without a bra and panties on."
"Now that's an image I could enjoy," Felix commented, a light smile on his face. Since taking off from the California desert he seemed more relaxed, less pensive.
Francois laughed and smiled, his eyes haunted by something. I patted his cheek and went over to the bags. "All right Felix, if you went and obviously preplanned this so well, you had to have remembered at least some of my underwear too, right? Or am I wearing that same grungy thing as yesterday until we can get me some more?"
Felix got out of his chair and took things out of his bag until he pulled out the clothes he'd hidden for me in the bottom, one of the pairs of jeans, two t-shirts, socks, and undergarments. "Here you are. Are you hungry? Francois says he found a nice little street stall that offers early lunch."
"What time is it anyway?" I asked. "That hasn't even crossed my mind since waking up."
"Good, you’re on vacation," Francois said. "But it’s nearly eleven."
I changed quickly and we left, finding the street stall that Francois had discovered, enjoying seafood tacos that were fresher than anything I'd ever had before, wrapped in the most delicious corn tortillas. "Okay, I'm going to have to learn how to make this," I commented as I tucked the last one away. "You boys think you can handle that?"
"If you’re willing to learn, we can try," Felix replied. "Where to now?"
"The beach," I said. "This town looks pretty quiet, and I could enjoy running my toes through the waves. Does Albania have beaches?"
"Some of the best in the world," Francois replied immediately. "Vlore has a stretch along the Ionian Sea that is often called the Albanian Riveria. Jale, Dhermi . . . so many beautiful places you could do much more than run your toes through the waves."
"That sounds great,” I said as we headed back toward the hotel. It was near a beach and had direct access to the sand. The beach was narrow, with much of the coastline being rocky, but we found a nice little cove that had some sand. Felix, who was dressed in just a light pair of khaki shorts and a cut-down shirt along with sunglasses, walked beside me. His arms were more muscular than I'd even imagined, and even with the fading from being inside under heavy layers for so long, he still had a natural light tan that probably came from his Romani blood.
Setting down the small tote bag that he'd been carrying that contained a few bottles of water, he looked out at the ocean of the cove and grinned. "Excuse me, you two, but I need some exercise," he said, stripping off the cheap running shoes that he'd taken out of his bag when we all got dressed while leaving his shirt on.
He ran down, splashing through the water until he could dive out, stroking through the cobalt water until he was a good distance out before turning parallel to the shore and swimming. I watched for a bit, grinning at the show, until I noticed that Francois was sitting next to the bag, his elbows on his knees and his head hanging.
I couldn't stand it, and had to see what was going on. I sat down next to him, making sure the long skirt was draped in such a way as to not get sand on my butt. "Talk to me Francois," I said, patting his knee. "You've been in a funk all day. What's wrong? Are you still angry with Felix?"
He shook his head, then looked at me. "I'm angry with myself. And I'm worried."
"About what? You turned the swords over, the wire transfer went through, right?"
He nodded and looked out at the ocean. "That’s not what I’m worried about. I've been worried about you. I acted like a total ass last night, and shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when I saw what Felix was trying to do. I've been worried that . . .” he said, his voice trailing off into silence.
"That what?" I asked, taking his hand. "That I'd be angry with you?"
"That is part of it," he said, then looked over. "And that you'd not think well of me any longer."
I leaned over, resting my head on his shoulder. "Why? Because I kissed your brother?"
"A little. But also because I see what is in your eyes, and I know you want him. It’s a bit disheartening, that’s all. It isn’t something I’m used to. Usually it is the opposite when it comes to women.”
I chuckled lightly and ran my hand along his thigh, cupping his cock until it swelled beneath my fingers. "Yes, I want Felix. Call me greedy if you want, but I want you too. Can you handle sharing me with Felix?”
"I must be insane, but yes I can," Francois said, his voice thick with desire. He groaned when I lightly squeezed his cock through his shorts, his breath coming ragged. “Be careful, t
hough, Jordan. Being inside you has been on my mind for days, and I’m on a hair trigger."
"So am I," I said softly. Still, I let go of his cock and leaned back on my elbows, my body humming with desire from the touch. "I have something special I want to do later tonight, though. Think you can keep yourself under control enough until then?"
"Only if I go join Felix in the ocean. I think the water might just let me shrink some, but only temporarily," he said, smiling devilishly.
* * *
I waited until we were back in the hotel room before locking it and turning to both brothers. The room faced the wrong direction to catch the sunset, and the sky outside was already a deep violet. "I think we need to have a talk."
"Oh no, now the talk happens," Francois jokingly groaned. Since our talk on the beach, he'd been back to his normal wisecracking self, lacing our conversation with sarcasm and humor that offset Felix's earnestness. As the day went on, I came to understand more and more just how much these two handsome men were growing on me.
"Can it, Francois," I said, but not without a smile. I sat down on the bed and looked at the two. "We're in a unique situation, you know."
"Considering our family history, I think we might be used to that," Felix answered. "But go ahead."
"Okay, then for my benefit, I need to say something. If only to get it straight in my head," I replied. "For the past week, I've found myself attracted to both of you. You two both know to what extent, and, to be honest, Felix, I've felt a bit guilty about that."
"There’s no rush," he replied. “If it happens, it happens.”
“It will," I said. Reaching for the top button on my blouse, I undid it slowly. “I’m going to be very, very greedy right now."
"How so?" Francois asked, his eyes following my fingers.
"I want both of you, and I want both of you at the same time," I said. "However that works out, I don't know, I've never done this before. But I want you both."
Double Dealing: A Menage Romance Page 9