by Carter Blake
Bodies are flowing past us, she’s still looking at me, her lips are still parted.
I still want to take her here and now.
“You say you don’t want to help, but I know you do. Your heart is huge. I remember how you saved that woman and her kid in the Sudan. Come on, our skills are a perfect match. Do this with me.”
Oh, I want to. I want to do everything with her—and to her. I want all of it, but I don’t want to be tricked again.
She’s giving me everything I want. I know what’s happening here; she’s using me as a resource to get what she wants.
Fool me once, shame on you, Dani.
Fool me twice? No one ever gets a chance to fool me twice.
But I kiss her anyway because I can’t not to.
And I kiss her because I want her to be telling the truth.
We would make a great team.
She tastes like mint and heat.
We’re drawing too much attention to ourselves again.
“Come on,” I say starting to walk. “This is dangerous and stupid. We need to bring this conversation indoors.”
“Jackal,” she’s matching my stride now, her confidence is back. “Why are you being so cold? I’m telling you I want us to be together, personally and professionally, don’t you want that?”
Why am I being so cold? You’re the one who’s probably playing me.
The colors of the golden hour are playing over the mosque turrets, and I’m half angry and half longing.
“I’m not being cold. I’m doing my job. Dani, you know how I feel about you. But it would compromise both of us if I told you too much. You always agreed. You don’t need to know. And you don’t need to ask for favors. I’ll help in all the ways I can. I always have.”
We turn a corner into a smaller street. We’re closer to the loft now. Luckily, in my angry walking, we’ve walked far too strange a trail for anyone to have followed us.
Nonetheless, we both scan all the nooks and crannies. I’m perfectly secretive ,but Dani isn’t-quite-as-subtle as I am. But then again, she doesn’t have my experience.
A call to prayer starts to sing out from one of the mosques, the sun is setting, and everything is beautiful in the way that only Istanbul can be.
I’m calmer now, and Dani is less insistent.
“Trust me to do my job properly, so I can keep helping you do yours.”
“Of course I trust you. I just need some kind of control, Janus. You know that.”
In more ways than one.
“Being left in the dark is not my strong suit.”
“Dani, we’ve been over this. This is why you hired me.”
“I know, I know, I know. And I do trust you. But,” she stops again and takes my hand in hers as she looks up at me. “You have to trust me too.”
I sigh.
“I do.”
It’s a lie.
A wonderful, delicious lie.
And I lean down to kiss her.
Chapter 27
Danielle
We’re currently sitting at a café table opposite a factory that we think looks promising.
Janus, Mahdi, and I are having a small and so far unsuccessful stakeout.
Thanks to Janus’ amazing probing skills, we’ve narrowed it down to the right neighborhood to find the traffickers, but we don’t have an exact headquarter location yet.
But Mahdi is almost as good as Janus is, and he’s giving us a surreptitious tour of the more black-market areas of this neighborhood.
Janus sent Mahdi the information he got from Leviathan, and Mahdi already started to put together some of his people to keep an eye on things ahead of our arrival.
People are flowing in-and-out of factories. All with the same expression of bored determination on their faces.
The trick is to look for those who seem like they’re trying a little too hard not to be noticed.
The trick is not to be noticed ourselves.
Janus has got me dressed from head to toe. To anyone unsuspecting, I’m just a particularly modest local.
He looks…well, to be honest, he looks good.
Dressed more casually than he normally goes for, and with both sunglasses and brown contacts blocking out the icy blue of his eyes, he could be any Turkish boy-next-door. The sort of boy-next-door who you peer through the hole in the fence at.
And peering is all I can do.
This isn’t Athens anymore. Things have gotten even more dangerous, and I have to have my wits about me.
I’m in good hands, though. These two are the real deal.
They find reasons to walk into these run-down factory and office buildings, with Janus as the hired muscle, Mahdi as the important politician, and myself as the aloof wife.
We get into every nook and cranny that way. We have bugs and cameras hidden all through our clothing, too. If we see any evidence, so does the world.
But so far, we’re having no luck.
Just sad factory workers and greedy bosses—but that’s for another investigation.
Janus is getting frustrated, and I have to admit, I too would like things to speed up. But right now, I’m having my own private stakeout.
I’m enjoying getting to know Mahdi, and by extension, Janus.
Mahdi seems, as Janus would say, “Mad as a Hatter,” but underneath his odd jokes and love of opera, he’s sharp enough to cut you.
And he’s known Jackal for a very, very long time.
He named Jackal.
I’m so intrigued. I can’t help myself.
It’s not like me to let my curiosity show, but it’s also not like me to meet a man who could match me.
I look over at Jackal, who’s currently fishing out exactly the right documents to get all the doors opened for us in the building opposite.
Janus can definitely match me, and in more ways than one.
He checks something on a document, looks up at me, down at the document, and then up at me again.
“Take off your sunglasses and look at me.”
I take off mine, and he takes off his.
His expression is unfathomable, but his eyes are piercing.
“I had to edit your photo a little, to make sure we weren’t traceable. Just wanted to make sure it still looks like you.”
He doesn’t smile. He looks back down.
I turn back toward Mahdi to continue our little chat.
He’s chattering on something about the off-Broadway shows he saw last time he was in New York.
I tell him I agree that Avenue Q was good—it’s a white lie, I haven’t had time to go to the theater in years.
Then, I change the topic back to what really interests me.
“So, what exactly is it that you do?” I ask.
“What don’t I do, lady?”
He’s evasive, like all his colleagues.
I can work with evasive.
“Well, I know you don’t act.”
I laugh, and he does, too. Janus is still frowning, looking down at his documents.
Is this about the fight we had earlier?
Does he still think I’m trying to work him?
I’m still a bit confused and concerned about our conversation—if you want to call it that—last night.
“Actually, it’s clear that you’re a great actor. The way you scared all those factory bosses. Why don’t you take that face onto the stage?”
A rue smile crosses his face. Like Janus’, there’s a mischievousness in it that I can’t help but smile at.
Much like Janus’ other scoundrel of a companion, Manticore, Mahdi has a strong jawline covered with a light beard and intense dark eyes—only Mahdi’s dark eyes dance with playful glee whereas Manticore’s were always cold and serious.
“Ah lady, if my face was known at all, I could never work this job again. No, no, it is better to be forgettable.”
“Which brings me back to where we were before. What exactly is this job?”
“I move money. I move people.
I move facts. I make sure the right people can help other people. I hide people. I find people.”
“You’re as vague as Janus.”
“I’m as good at my job as Janus here, that’s what I am. Taught him everything he knows.”
“No, you taught me everything you know, Mahdi. Then I went and learned a whole lot more,” Janus chimes in, finally smiling as he looks up.
Both men lock eyes and laugh.
“You are an ungrateful brat, you know that, Akhee?” he says, cuffing Janus over the ear.
It’s a treat to see Jackal being shown his place by one of the few people he really lets down his guard with.
But I’m still curious. I bring the conversation back.
“So, this is how you found Jackal? In your role as a people-finder?”
Mahdi rolls up his sleeves and looks at me a little more seriously now.
“What makes me good at this job—the reason I’m not dead yet—is that I can read people instantly. Despite the way he looked, I knew this little guy was priceless. Your little Jackal was cheating and swindling people and generally being an all-round scoundrel. Actually, he tried to swindle me.”
I look up at Janus. He’s still shuffling through his documents, but I can tell he’s listening intensely. I can even see the softest flush of red in his cheeks.
“Of course, I knew what he was doing instantly. The old help-me-out-and-my-rich parents-will-pay-you-back-thousand-fold trick. Of course, his parents were dead by then. But he was very good at it, Habibi, and I thought, what if instead of trying to cheat me, this little jackal-cub was tricking others on my behalf?”
“So, you put me to use.”
Jackal looks up, smiling fondly.
“I sure did,” Mahdi shakes his head fondly, turning back to me. “He was special, I’m telling you. Here’s this kid with an accent that sounds like he works shining shoes for the Queen and a face that looks like an angel’s, speaking a dozen languages and hustling for pennies. I taught him how to hustle for millions.”
“Okay, as fun as this trip down memory lane is, no criminals are being found while we excavate my past. I’m going to go suss out the factory entrances, make sure the coast is clear and that no one’s watching us watch them. Then the three of us go in together. Be ready to go in five.”
Janus puts his documents back in his briefcase, snaps it shut, and hands us our new fake IDs.
Then he’s out the door and on the street.
“So, you really found this guy on the street?” I ask Mahdi, watching Jackal melt effortlessly into the crowd in that magical way of his. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, he’s a bit of a diamond in the rough, as they say,” Mahdi replies seriously, then even more seriously. “I see you can tell he’s special.”
I try to hide the smile curling around my lips and simply nod.
“He’s special, Miss Robinson. He’s also got a big heart. Don’t be fooled by that professional exterior of his. He’s a kind and gentle man. Take care.”
And then Janus is back, looking unimpressed that we’re still here.
“Come on. Stop the chit chat, people. On your feet. We have traffickers to catch!”
Chapter 28
Janus
Just because an outfit is modest doesn’t mean it isn’t hot as fuck.
Needless to say, my thoughts are far from pure and professional right now. I’ve been waiting all afternoon to get Dani back to the apartment and get that dress off her.
Watching her smile as she drill Mahdi about my lost years reminded me of our last night in Athens. And that led to my current train of thought.
Luckily for her—and ultimately, me—I know a trick or two to wipe that smile off her face and replace it with something far more satisfying.
She’s standing at the dressing table, taking off her glasses and the dress earrings I had her wear, and asking me about the “next steps” and if my guys can “speed this up.”
I’m not having any of this.
I sidle up behind her and slide my arms around her waist. This body…
“I think,” I say, running my hands over her body slowly, “that the next step is to get you out of this dress.”
She leans her weight into my arms.
“Ah,” she answers coyly. “Is that your professional opinion?”
I start to kiss her neck, and she starts to breathe heavily. I love feeling this tight, controlled woman unravel.
“Definitely,” I murmur into her neck. “Absolutely. First step to uncovering any trafficking ring is always taking off the dress of a beautiful woman.”
She’s struggling to talk now, moaning a little. It doesn’t help that I’ve started to undo her zipper with one hand. I’m slowly moving the other hand towards her nipple.
This woman has so much power over me. It feels good to make her putty in my hands for a change. Actually, it just feels good to make her feel good.
I catch myself in my adoration. But my finger has found her nipple, and she is definitely moaning now.
I turn her around.
I push everything off the dressing table. There’s a smashing sound, but I can deal with that later.
With lips half open and looking at me hungrily, Dani clearly doesn’t care either.
I can take off a dress as quickly as I can forge a signature, and before you can say “Thierry Henry,” she’s standing in front of me in nothing but her tiny bra and panties—the way I like her.
But that’s not entirely true at all.
I like her naked and panting my name.
I pick her up bodily, and she gasps. I push her onto the dressing table and take her bra off in one quick movement.
The sunlight plays over her creamy skin. There are patterns and shadows from the windows dancing on her chest. Her nipples are soft beneath my tongue, and she gasps and moans, running her fingers over my back.
She tastes like mint and sweat. She’s trying to take off my shirt, but I’m not having any of that yet.
This is my circus, and I’m the ringmaster. I want her naked and begging in front of me before a single item of my clothing comes off.
That won’t take long, I think to myself as she starts to wriggle, moan, and growl under my fingers.
I adore how animalistic she is when she’s undone.
I run my fingers over her panties. They are soaked with desire.
I stand up and press my whole body against her. My cock twitches and throbs against her dripping pussy.
“Are you ready for me?” I whisper in her ear.
The sound that comes from her mouth almost makes me come here and now.
But I’m not finished torturing her.
“So ready,” she gasps out.
“Well, you’ll just have to be patient,” I whisper, pulling her hair at the exact spot on her scalp that turns her to putty.
There’s a low moan, in which my name gets tangled up in, and it fills the air between us.
Yes, that’s a start, I think, and return my mouth to her nipples.
I grab her ass with the other hand and start to stroke my fingers up and down the outside of her panties. I can feel her getting wetter and feel myself getting harder.
I need to be inside her like I need air.
It would be so easy, but no. I don’t think I’ve teased her enough. I don’t think I’ve punished her enough for that act of investigative journalism in the cafe.
I take my mouth off her nipple and kiss her hard.
I put one finger around her other nipple and pinch until she’s panting and squirming, biting me on the neck, and desperately trying to take my shirt off again.
With my other hand, I ease off her panties, and slide my fingers between the folds of her wet pussy.
God, she’s so excited.
And then, just as she’s getting really desperate, I slide my fingers into her quickly. She gasps my name again—I like that.
I reduce her to a quivering mess, right here on the dresser, moving in and o
ut of her with my fingers, running my hand over her body, pinching her nipples.
I can feel her muscles against my fingers. I can tell she’s about to come. I stop completely and pull my fingers from her—grinning lopsidedly as I do. I’m still completely dressed, and she’s splendidly naked.
Did I mention those tits?
I’m pretty sure they were the real reason humanity fell from god’s good graces.
“Janus, you mother—”
I kiss her to shut her up and lift her up into my chest. Her legs wrap around my waist immediately, like it’s instinct for her at this point.
I lay her on the bed, and then I finally let her take my clothes off.
She’s so hungry and filled with lust that it takes only moments for her to strip me down. This woman is nothing, if not efficient.
It was amazing to tease her, but the feeling of my skin against hers is another level.
She tries to flip me over—she likes being on top—but this time, she’s going to have to deal with not being in control.
At long last, I put my cock at her wet pussy.
But I don’t push in; I’m not finished teasing yet. Instead, I slide in an out of her, barely pushing in half an inch.
She doesn’t break eye contact with me.
I lean over and kiss her neck, still teasing her, still hover inside her.
She bites my lip in frustration, and then I push in all the way—with purpose. And then neither of us can stop.
She’s wrapping her legs around my waist again and trying to force me in deeper with each thrust.
Our moans intertwine with one another like a melody of ecstasy and lust.
I feel her clench about me. Her body begins to tremble of its own accord, and Dani’s moans quickly turn to ragged breaths as she succumbs to me. She lets go completely and embraces the waves of pleasure that course through her.
And I too give in and let myself go.
My knees nearly give out on me when I do. A guttural growl, mixed with an ecstatic moan of my own, slips past my clenched teeth.
There’s a wonderful moment of bliss—pure euphoria—as I explode inside her, and she does everything she can to pull me deeper. Every muscle in my body flexes as the rush over the overwhelming heat washes over me until I fall onto the bed beside her. Then I’m wrapped up in the closeness—and skin—of Dani as she nuzzles into me with a satisfied smile on her face.