Cheyenne McCray - [Lexi Steele 01]

by The First Sin

  “Galsband headed your way,” one agent finally said into her comm, to Weiss and Jensen. “ETA ninety seconds.”

  The two agents took their positions close to the door, Jensen on her knees in front of Weiss’s crotch, her back to the camera and the door.

  “Oh, joy,” she muttered, sounding sarcastic as Weiss unfastened his slacks. Then I thought I heard her whisper, “Oh, my,” in a much different tone, and I almost sniggered.

  “Galsband, five seconds to destination,” the monitoring agent said.

  “Here goes,” Jensen said as Weiss put his hands in her hair.

  She started bobbing her head as if she was going down on Weiss, while she made sounds of pleasure. Damn that looked hot. The two of them were a little more realistic than I would have expected. I could swear I saw her mouth really on Weiss’s cock and that look on his face really was one of a man being sucked off.

  Weiss watched Jensen as he clenched her hair. “That’s it, baby,” he said in a hoarse voice as the door opened. Weiss didn’t look up, as if he hadn’t heard anything.

  In the next moment Weiss made a loud groan and pumped his hips a few more times as if he had orgasmed.

  Personally, I think he really did. Into Jensen’s mouth.

  “Damn, baby,” Weiss said without looking up. “You get an ‘A+’ for effort and style. Not to mention the best blow job I’ve ever had.”

  Galsband cleared his throat. “Professor Zimmer.”

  Weiss looked up while Jensen gave a very well-done gasp. Weiss’s zipper was still hidden by Jensen’s head and Weiss did a credible job of adjusting himself and fastening his pants without letting us see anything.

  “Sorry, Galsband.” Weiss said as he drew Jensen to her feet. “Didn’t realize this was your office. Mine is practically underwater, and we grabbed the closest place.” He smiled down at Jensen. “Brittany couldn’t wait.”

  By the combination of the bulge in Galsband’s slacks and the austere expression on his face, it was clear the professor was struggling between being turned on and angry. “How did you get in here?”

  Weiss shrugged as Jensen stood and turned. Her eyes were heavy-lidded as she licked her lips and met Jensen’s gaze. “It was the first unlocked door we could find,” she said in a sultry voice as she looked Galsband up and down, and licked her lips again.

  Weiss glanced at Jensen and grinned as she leaned back against him. He slid his palms up to cup her now huge breasts, and rubbed his thumbs over her enhanced, distended nipples. “If you have a little time, Brittany just told me she’d love some front and backdoor action at the same time, if you know what I mean.”

  Jeez, Jensen and Weiss would have made a believer out of me. Galsband’s throat worked as he swallowed, his stare fixed on what Weiss was doing to Jensen’s breasts. “I have a student coming in.” He sounded as if he was having a difficult time speaking.

  “A girl?” Weiss moved his hands up and down Jensen’s body. I had a feeling she was going to kill him once they were alone, since most of RED’s agents on the K-Team were watching. “Brittany might like some girl-on-girl action.” He brushed his lips over her ear before he raised his head and spoke loud enough to be heard. “Wouldn’t you, baby?”

  Jensen couldn’t have done a better job of acting like the idea made her hot, as if it really did turn her on. “Never tried it,” she said in a low, husky voice. “But I have fantasized sucking on a woman’s breasts while being screwed. And tied up—the idea of all that BDSM bondage stuff really turns me on.”

  Oh, honey, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

  But that seemed to do the trick. The bulge in Galsband’s pants was big enough to rip a hole through the material. If the professor led RED to Kristin, Jensen just might cut his dick off while Donovan took care of the man who’d kidnapped Kristin.

  Galsband cleared his throat again. “There’s a private get-together tonight that you might enjoy.”

  Bingo.

  Donovan narrowed his eyes at the monitor as he watched.

  Jensen licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “I’m free tonight.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Galsband walked around his desk. “I must talk with the gentleman holding the discreet party to see if we might invite you.” He looked up at Weiss. “Both of you, of course, as my personal guests.”

  “Sounds intriguing.” Weiss leaned down and tilted Jensen’s face up to give her a brief kiss. “Especially if it involves another woman.”

  “Another student.” Galsband smiled, and the pit of my stomach twisted. “She enjoys the company of a few men at the same time. I will speak with the host.”

  So much for that poker game.

  “Delicious,” Jensen said, her eyes on Galsband. She looked up at Weiss. “I have to get to class.” She glanced at the professor again. “Call my cell if we’re going to play tonight.”

  Weiss squeezed Jensen’s breasts again, and Donovan thought she’d elbow him if he didn’t stop. “Talk with you later, baby.”

  She reached up and kissed him before moving to the desk and sitting on the edge of it. Her short skirt slid up her thighs, almost to her crotch. Jensen was probably hotter than any of the agents watching the show had realized.

  “Hope to see you later.” She leaned across the desk and brushed her lips over Galsband’s before she slid off his desk, gave Weiss a sexy smile, and walked out of his office.

  I glanced at the monitor image of Jensen in the corridor after the door closed behind her. She started making gagging motions, pointing her finger down her throat and doubling over like she was going to throw up.

  She glanced toward the hidden camera and mumbled into her comm, “I am so going to kill you, Donovan.”

  Most of the agents around Donovan laughed. He looked like he almost did, too, but he was mostly focused on Weiss and the professor.

  “Got a pen and paper?” Weiss asked the professor, who was still staring at the door. “Galsband?”

  The man’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes,” he said with a distracted expression. “Pen. Paper.” He picked up an expensive pen and pushed it, along with a pad of cream-colored paper, across his desk.

  Weiss took the pen and scrawled his undercover name and a number across it. “That’s my cell, if Brittany and I can join you tonight.”

  Galsband looked like he was starting to get himself under control again. He gave a curt nod. “By late this afternoon I will let you know, one way or another.”

  Weiss winked and made his way out the door.

  When it closed behind him, he glanced at the camera and brought his elbow down in a “Yes!” movement.

  Donovan shook his head and I smiled.

  The rest of the day we monitored Galsband, but he didn’t make any calls or meet up with anyone until late in the afternoon. When he was alone in a hallway, he drew out his cell phone and dialed a number. Unfortunately the camera couldn’t get a shot of the number pad to see what he was dialing.

  Galsband also wasn’t standing close to the nearest microphone, and a man with a floor waxer was pushing the thing around a corner. “Isolate and amplify,” Donovan said to the agent monitoring that corridor.

  It was almost impossible to catch any of the conversation.

  All they caught was “student,” “tonight,” “girl action,” and “hot.”

  Donovan’s jaw tensed.

  But when he snapped the phone shut, Galsband grinned. He drew a piece of paper from his pocket. The one with Agent Weiss’s phone number on it. My heart rate picked up.

  Galsband headed out the front doors of the psychology building and began dialing the number.

  Weiss’s line, which we had already tapped, came through loud and clear.

  “The professor said you and Ms. Brittany may join us as my guests tonight. He believes his student will be pleased to meet your young lady.”

  “Great,” Weiss said. “What’s the address?”

  “Why don’t I have my driver pick y
ou and your student up at seven?” Galsband said.

  “Christ,” Donovan said, and I knew exactly what he meant. Weiss probably didn’t live in digs worthy of a wealthy professor.

  Weiss paused only a moment before he said, “Brittany and I plan to meet for a drink at six at the Glass House. Why don’t we have our drink, then meet you at seven just outside the nightclub.” He lowered his voice. “You think she was hot this afternoon. Wait until you see her after a couple of rum and Cokes. She’ll be all over both of us before we even make it to Professor—?”

  “Ah, there’s my driver.” Galsband cut in. “I will see you at the Glass House at seven sharp.”

  “You bet.”

  Galsband clicked off, and it looked like Donovan wanted to bang his head against a console.

  Donovan swiped his hand down his face. “All right. Can’t get to the location beforehand with no address.” He paced the floor as he spoke to his agents. “So we’ll put a tail on Galsband after he picks up Weiss and Jensen. We’ll have the raid teams on standby.”

  “Will do,” Takamoto said. “Everyone will be ready and all over that place as soon as we have the address.” He braced his hands on the back of a chair. “Who do you want to tail the car?”

  “I’ll take it.” Donovan stopped pacing. “Along with my special unit.”

  “Color me surprised,” Smithe said, and several of the agents laughed. “Those are some scary dudes. I’m intrigued that Oxford let you bring in outsiders.”

  I could see the wheels whirling in Donovan’s head. He was already planning the operation in his mind at the same time he said, “If you knew what those guys are capable of, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

  April 26

  Friday evening

  “Goddamnit, Lexi.” Donovan glared at me as he strapped on his raid belt and his scary team secured all of their weapons. We stood in Kristin’s living room. “You’re not coming. Christ, you’re on leave as it is.”

  “Forced leave.” I scowled and crossed my arm and cast over my chest. I bet I made an interesting picture. “I’ll drive to the Glass House myself and follow Weiss.”

  Donovan closed his eyes and looked like he was counting to ten. He opened them and met my eyes. “We’ll handle it, Steele.” He gestured to the four men who were now watching Donovan and me with obvious interest and amusement. “We’ve got enough cars following him that we don’t need one more that just might catch their attention.”

  “He wouldn’t even notice twelve cars following him. You know Weiss and Jensen are going to keep him occupied,” I said.

  “Not if Jensen can help it,” Donovan said under his breath. “She’s ready to kill Weiss as it is, and I can’t afford to be an agent down.”

  “Looked to me like she was having some serious fun.” That almost got a smile out of him, but he did a good job of holding it back. “As is obvious to every single one of you mountains, I’m small enough to stick just about anywhere.”

  “She’s got you there,” Harrison said with a grin.

  “Donovan raised his hands. “Get your stuff together. It’s five-thirty and we’ve got to get down to the Glass House.”

  I moved my overshirt aside to show my Glock. “All set,” I said.

  CHAPTER 37

  Kristin

  April 26

  Friday

  A “get-together” tonight.

  Kristin’s whole body trembled. Michaels had just gone upstairs to get ready for his little get-together, while she stood in the kitchen wearing the collar hooked to the chain.

  And a girl. A few minutes ago Michaels said she was going to have sex with another student while the men watched.

  No way. She never cursed, but one thing came loud and clear to her mind.

  No goddamned way.

  She tried to control her breathing.

  The plan that came to her mind was simple but vicious. Not only was she going to get out of this before he shot her up with that green liquid again, but she was going to make him pay for every last thing he’d done to her.

  Got to hurry before he comes down. Kristin rushed to the cabinet under the sink. She had to stretch her arm and feel around, but she finally found it. The punch can opener.

  In the fluorescent kitchen lighting the sharp, triangular point glinted. She grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and put it on the counter over the punch opener. She crouched below the sink again and reached back for the oven cleaner Michaels had left beneath the sink. Idiot. But lucky for her.

  Kristin glanced around the kitchen. Where could she put it where he wouldn’t see it when he came into the kitchen?

  The fridge. She opened the huge stainless-steel fridge and shoved plastic containers—no glass, of course—of mustard, ketchup, and other condiments aside to make room for the spray can, putting it closest to the door opening.

  Just as she got it settled, she grabbed the single frying pan from beneath the stove, put it on one of the electric burners, and turned the heat on “High.” Then she opened the fridge door again, right next to the stove.

  “Ready, slut?”

  Kristin jumped at the sound of Michaels’s voice. Her heart beat like it was going to come up her throat as she held the fridge door open and cool air chilled her naked body.

  Michaels was smiling. Grinning.

  Sick bastard.

  In one hand he held a syringe full of the green liquid. “Never thought I’d get to get in on some girl-on-girl action. Tonight will be a treat for me and my guests.” He stopped just outside the reach of her chain. “You’re going to get a taste of pussy while you’re being screwed.”

  Kristin’s stomach heaved. No. Can’t throw up. She gripped the can of oven cleaner and put her finger on the spray button.

  Michaels looked at the open fridge. “Close the door before all of the canapés get warm.”

  Stall him. Make him come closer.

  “Please don’t make me do that.” She tried to keep her hand steady on the oven cleaner. “Please don’t make me be with another girl—or those other men. I promise I’ll do anything for you.”

  Michaels’s scowl twisted his heavy features. “I said shut the goddamned door.”

  Her hand shook so badly she didn’t know if she’d be able to hold it steady enough.

  She would. This was going to end.

  “Please,” she said, putting all the begging she could into her voice.

  “I don’t want to mark you before tonight,” he said as he strode toward her, and raised the hand that wasn’t holding the syringe when he was a few inches away. “But if you refuse to listen to me, so help me I’m going to slap the—”

  Kristin jerked the can of oven cleaner out of the fridge and squeezed the button, aiming for his face.

  White foam shot from the canister, directly into those eyes she hated so much.

  Michaels screamed and dropped the syringe.

  The doorbell chimed.

  Kristin didn’t stop spraying, and his face was nearly covered with the foam. Fumes from the spray attacked her as she said, “You lousy, slimy, scum—”

  “Bitch!” He lunged for her.

  Kristin tried to back up but her foot slipped in the foam that had plopped onto the tile.

  Michaels grabbed her throat, knocking her against the counter.

  The can slipped from her hand and rattled as it rolled over the tile floor.

  “You are mine to kill.” The foam blinded him, but he had found her throat when he lunged for her. “I paid for you!”

  His fingers were above her leather collar, and she gasped when he squeezed, his fingers so tight he was digging them into her throat.

  Kristin grabbed his wrists with her hands, but his grip was too tight.

  Her vision started to blur. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind started to shut down as he squeezed harder.

  She wasn’t sure the chimes she heard in the distance were in her mind or real.

  The opener.

  She released one of his wri
sts and started slapping the counter with her palm, even as she felt the world fading.

  The opener.

  Got to . . . got to . . .

  Even as her sight dimmed, her fingers found the cloth covering the punch opener.

  Down. He was going down.

  She yanked the cloth aside and grasped the opener.

  Through her blurry vision, and even as weak as she was, she found the strength to do what she’d planned.

  Kristin rammed the triangular point of the punch opener into one of his eyeballs and yanked as hard as she could.

  She ripped his eyeball from its socket.

  Michaels screamed and released her as his hands went to his eye, where blood poured from the socket.

  He screamed as he held one hand to his empty socket and went for her with his other hand. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you! Fucking bitch, I’ll kill you!”

  Breath rasped through her sore throat to her lungs, giving her just enough strength to switch hands with the opener.

  She jabbed the opener into his other eyeball and ripped it out.

  “You’ll never look at another woman’s body again,” she shouted as he held his hands to his empty eye sockets and thrashed around. “Never!” she shouted.

  “Fucking bitch!” He moved like he had no control over his body and yelled between coherent words. “Dear God. Oh, God.” He reached for her, his hands waving in nothing but air as he tried to reach for her. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! You can’t get away and I’ll kill you!”

  Kristin was having a hard time focusing after nearly being strangled to death, and from all the oven cleaner fumes. But she had the presence of mind to grab the now red-hot empty frying pan, and with a two-handed grip slammed it into his face.

  He screamed as the pan burned his flesh and knocked it out of her hand. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!” he kept shouting over and over as he floundered and went for her again.

  Her strength was nearly gone, but she managed to bring her knee to her breast, plant her foot on his chest, and shove with everything she had.