Hunter: Perfect Revenge (Perfectly Book 3)

by Alice May Ball

  She leaned closer.

  The scent of her filled my head. My muscles sang and my heart thumped, pulsing the blood hotly in my veins. Her lips parted as she looked up at me. I took her face in my hands and stared in wonder at this creature. Completely disciplined on the outside and totally wild within.

  I pulled her to me and brought her mouth onto mine for a long, deep kiss. Hard and slow. Her body came to life in my hands, like it was charged, energized. The press of her breasts against my chest made me reach for her waist and pull tighter her to me. As she rose onto the tips of her toes I held her breast through her shirt.

  We melted together through our mouths and I knew that I had to have her. Lengthening and painfully stiff, the swell of my cock was straining my jeans. Fast, I opened her leather pants. She gasped as my hand slipped down her fluttering stomach in into her panties. They were wet inside.

  She ground her mound against my fingers. I pressed back the hood of her clit, spread apart the swollen lips of her pussy. Her hips dropped into my hand as my fingers dove up and inside her, scraping the front of her folds.

  When she yanked off her coat, her shirt and her bra, her hair was wild and damp and her eyes blazed. She bit her lip. The sight of her big, soft breasts made my cock harden and ache more. She stroked my hair and my face and she looked down as she stretched up to take another kiss.

  I pulled her pants and her panties down to her thighs and she sighed as I spun her around. At the sight of her marvelous ass, my hand slapped her cheek. She rippled and she squealed as the red mark bloomed and then faded. I shoved her forward. She leaned with her hands on the bed. Now I could see her lovely dark lips, between the gorgeous globes of her pale ass. And the scent of her made me throb.

  I rubbed her lips and the base of her clit with one hand while I opened my pants with the other. She moaned and her ass rolled. My thumb slid up into her and I rubbed her clit with my fingers. Stroked my thumb at the opening of her ass. Her back stretched and arced. The soft, pale flesh of her thighs tightened and flexed.

  My cock buzzed red to get at her, but at the sight of her pussy, I had to spread her cheeks and lean down for a taste. She jolted as I took the little bud of her clit with my lips and the vibration of my groan made her shudder.

  She said my name as my tongue invaded her and the taste of her made me growl. My lips pressed against hers and I toyed with my bottom lip against her clit.

  She groaned and her voice was muffled as she said, “I’ll never find another man like you.”

  As she said it, I held myself, not wanting to betray a reaction. I felt sure that it meant she saw the end of our connection coming. That could only mean that she planned to give me up to the bureau. I didn’t feel it, but it was what I heard and I couldn’t ignore it.

  It meant she expected to betray me.

  URMURING OVER MY shoulder in a purr, “I’d never find another man like you,” it was all that I could tell him. All I could say without abandoning myself to open up to him completely. I was still too afraid to do that.

  I couldn’t ever be sure where I stood with him. That was exciting, no question, but we got into some dangerous corners together, and there were more on the way for sure.

  I could barely speak as his tongue and his lips and his breath drove me, propelled me, lifted and spun my insides through tingling cascades of electric sensation. He savored me with his tongue, on me and in me. His mobile lips teased and spread mine and played all along my opening. My knees shuddered and rivulets of trembling wetness snaked down my thighs.

  Then he rose up. Moved close behind me. His big hand reached to take my breast. As he squeezed, my hard, sore nipples stung.

  My breath rushed out and my feet left the floor as he entered me. No waiting this time. His cock split me, rammed me like a hot torpedo. He reamed into me, hard and fast and my thighs shook.

  I moaned helplessly. My knees turned to water. Sagging forward onto the bed, all I could do was to grip him with the walls of my pussy and hold on. He was thicker than ever, or I was tighter. And he was rock hard and impossibly long. His thighs slapped against my ass and I felt like a whirlpool started inside me, spinning first slow, then quicker.

  Helplessly I burst along his massive cock, then dipped as he rode me on, up to the next plateau. The animal scent of him filled my head and I shook, throwing back my hair. The bursts of ecstasy were almost agonizing and my thoughts blew away like smoke.

  His rod sawed deeper and higher into me and my legs were about ready to give way. He tweaked my nipples as he moved closer to push his fat pole into me at a steeper angle. Rubbing harder against the top of my slit, my hood was tugged at every stroke, rubbing my clit each time.

  I clutched and clawed at the bed sheets, now rumpled and getting wet and I moaned, with low and long sighs.

  The roiling sea inside me swelled and rose in yet another set of waves, set off by his voice as he rasped, ”Come on. Grip my cock and ride it. Fuck me Vesper. Come for me. Now.”

  He crouched deeper to pinion longer, faster strokes. The roll of his hips sent me over this time, like a tsunami, crashing through my core and splashing out through my nipples and my shaking limbs. My face streamed wet and I shook all over. His arm around my waist was all that stopped me from falling as I crested, fell, splashed and gushed.

  I was hot. Wet all over. My pussy and my nipples were sore. So were the backs of my thighs and my ass. He hardly waited a minute before he yanked my pants and my panties off. My shoes clattered to the floor. He spun me around, pulled me up and licked his lips at the shock on my face. With one hand he hoisted my leg onto his shoulder and he pierced me again.

  My pussy was drenched but he still stretched me almost painfully wide. His hands went to my breast and my neck. His mouth took mine. His massive shaft bored in, driving up while his pelvis rocked, forward and back and at the same time, slowly around and round to slam him all the way through my swollen lips and my worn and weary walls.

  Being split so wide, being so open and exposed, I felt an awful, tender, vulnerable need. I pressed back against him. My back stretched, tipping my head back and opening my throat. A brimming, boiling stirred from my center and out until, like the drop of a waterfall it cascaded all the way through me and splashed like a massive wave, falling to wipe out a wide, moonlit bay.

  I hugged him with all the uncoordinated parts of my body that could reach him and I shouted his name as I felt him thrust harder. Faster. I was lost when his cock swelled from the base and pulsing rings ran the length of it. He gripped my hair hard and pulled as hot, thick bolts of cum fountained into me, drenching me. Filling me. Completing me. Exhausting me.

  “Oh, Horse,” I pushed back with my hips, but the gush of the torrents inside me made uncoordinated. Pumping long and deep, he held my throat tight. I came again as he squeezed. I so wanted to trust this huge, impossible rogue. My fingers dragged wildly down his back and clawed at the rolling engines of his ass.

  Wetness and heat bathed my body and my mind and he held me while I shuddered.

  I don’t remember us getting into the bed, or sleeping, but we did. I did, at least. I heard him dial the phone. He made the call to El Guapo and I slipped into the bathroom. He didn’t look up or catch my eye and I tried not to let him see me take the burner phone with me.

  As quietly as I could I put my little extra part of the plan into operation. I dialed agent Schultz’s private cell phone number.

  “Girl, you’re in some trouble.”

  “I know, right? And I need a favor.”

  “Why do I have a sense of impending doom right now?”

  “Please. I really need this. I’m going to give you the number of a cell phone. I need you to trace the location of the number that it’s connected to, right now.”

  “Baby, you know I’d love to help.”

  “I need this, Schultz. It’s life and death.” I whispered, almost hissed the words. I was desperate.

  “Yeah. Mine.”

  I gave him
the number. After a few moments he said, “That number is calling an unregistered cell phone that is presently located… hmm. In this building.”

  The Bureau Anti-Corruption office was in an anonymous office building that covered a city block on Madison and 53rd Street.

  “How close? Can you see exactly where in the building?”

  “The GPS doesn’t give the elevation, but it looks like it’s near the corner.”

  “Which corner?”

  “They hung up now.”

  I couldn’t let him go. And I knew Horse had hung up. “But could you see which corner, Schultz?”

  “Yeah, it’s the Northeast corner. So it was either directly above or directly below where the SAC’s office is.”

  Or directly in the SAC’s office. My heart plunged. Schultz was getting ready to hang up when I asked him, “Where’s the SAC now, Schultz?”

  “He’s in his office. There’s been someone with him all morning, but I could interrupt him, if you want to talk to him.”

  “No. No, don’t do that. Don’t tell him we spoke, okay.”

  “This call never happened.”

  I looked up. Horse was in the bathroom doorway.

  “Couldn’t hold from giving your mom a call off any longer?”

  “I…” But he already knew that wasn’t who I’d been calling.

  HEAD OF THE meeting, Vesper and I had an errand in Bryant Square Park.

  In the center of the green square, I made a cut a few inches deep in the grass with a small tactical shovel. We sent a text message from one unused burner phone to another. After the text showed on the screen I put the receiving phone in a baggie and sealed it tight. Then I slid it edgewise into the thin slit I’d made in the turf.

  We stuck a few twigs and matchsticks in the earth with barely half an inch showing above the surface. I couldn’t believe this was going to work, or that we wouldn’t get arrested trying. I told Vesper as much on the way, but it all went fine. The baggie was slightly visible in the grass, but it just looked like trash. The twigs and matchsticks, too.

  There was a pattern, but I had to admit, there was a good enough chance that no one would spot it if they weren’t looking for it. Our biggest worry was that we hadn’t got there early enough and that we would have been observed. Nothing we could do about that now, though, except to hope.

  Then we headed on to Fifth Avenue. The street was mobbed with Brazilians. Well, I assumed they were Brazilian. They draped themselves in Brazilian flags. A lot of them had their faces painted in the colors of the flag. They all seemed pretty happy, but mostly they were also extremely drunk, especially for so early in the day.

  As we hustled through the crowd, Vesper pointed at a street seller with t-shirts, flags on sticks and a whole lot of other Brazilian stuff.

  “Go and get us two Brazilian flags. The biggest he’s got.”

  “What?”

  “And find out what this is all about, if you can.”

  When I asked him, through his thick Portuguese accent, the street vendor told me, “It’s a big football match. What you call ‘soccer’ here.”

  “Is Brazil playing the US?”

  “Sure. But we’re here for the party. Brazilians love a party.”

  “Oh, you don’t think Brazil have much chance of winning?”

  He looked at me pityingly. “You don’t know anything about football, do you.” It wasn’t a question. He was right and I shrugged with a grin.

  With the hooded jackets, baseball caps, reflective shades and now wrapped in Brazilian flags, we made our way through the New York Public Library.

  “Isn’t the idea to make ourselves inconspicuous?” I asked her, as quietly as I could.

  “No, the idea is for us not to be seen. It isn’t the same thing. If you’re trying to hide from the public, you need to dress in as dull and inconspicuous a way as you can. Blend in.

  “With professionals that’s what they’re trained to spot. We need to show them something that tells them, ‘These are not the droids we’re looking for.’ Get it?”

  I stopped and looked at her. “Star Wars quips? You are full of surprises.”

  “Everybody’s seen that.” she brushed it off with a wave of her hand.

  “Not everybody’s going to make a joke of it on the way to a situation like this.”

  “Hush.”

  “So the idea is for us to attract attention with these flags?”

  “No. It’s to tell a story. Like when the spooks set up outside someone’s house, they might pretend to be telephone engineers, so you don’t have to wonder who they are.”

  “You’d still have to wonder when the telephone engineer stunt last fooled anyone.”

  “Cool. Well, you can spend your time worrying about whether the soccer fan stunt is going to work. Meanwhile, I have actual work to do. Concerning, you know, making sure we don’t get killed?”

  We made our way to the terrace at the rear and took a table by the railing with a good view of the park behind the library. We weren’t the only people outside wearing Brazilian flags. But we were the only ones who weren’t drinking beer and shouting. I told her that and she nodded then thought for a moment.

  “It’s a good point. Hunch. Look tired. And we’ll order a pitcher of beer anyway.”

  “Does that mean we have to drink it?” I said with a grin.

  She looked at the planters either side of the table. “No, the bay trees can have that pleasure. Be discrete about it, though.“

  “That’s a skill that hostesses in clip joints have. It’s not one that I ever practiced.”

  “Amazing what girls will do for money.” She looked at me across the tops of her big, bug-eyed reflective shades. “Of course, it’s usually only their tips that depend on it. Not their lives.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll play.”

  We waited. I saw her tense up and I was about to spin round to see why. “Don’t move. He hasn’t seen me, I’m almost sure.”

  “Who?”

  “Damian Crane. My SAC. He’s at the other end of the terrace.”

  “Coincidence?” I tried to keep the sarcasm from dripping too heavily off my voice.

  “Not necessarily,” I could tell that she was shaken. “We’re both FBI trained, so we’d be likely to look for the same observation point.”

  We sat in the sun and played the game of looking weary while we pretended to drink the beer.

  “You should consider coming over to the light side, Horse. We could get you trained up.” I loved her looking playful like that. Under the circumstances, it was bittersweet. I wondered how long we might have together.

  “You could try the dark side,” I said, looking over the shades at her. “Although you’d be hopeless at it.”

  She looked annoyed, like a girl finding a wasp on her ice cream. “You think that your fraternity has skills I couldn’t master?”

  “An attitude. A state of mind.” I told her. “It radiates off you.”

  I tried to make it funny. I couldn’t help it.

  The appointed time came and went, but that was no surprise. This was the kind of party that no one’s ever going to want to be early to.