by Anthology
“Condom,” she spat through clenched teeth.
He grabbed her thighs in a death grip and groaned, “Wallet.”
Reaching behind her, she dug into the back pockets until she found it and slapped it on his chest. She allowed him enough room to slip on the latex and move his hands. She rubbed her pussy over his sheathed cock and shivered. Slowly, she worked him inside of her inch by luscious inch until their hips met. She grabbed his powerful biceps to balance then came nose to nose with him.
“Fuck me, hard and fast.”
8
Marianna’s words sent a blaze of lust through Lars the likes of which he’d never known. He released her thighs and grabbed her ass, helping her move up and down his cock. The latex encasing his dick tempered the sensation of her warm, snug sex and helped him wrestle back some control. He tried to move then realized she’d trapped his legs and had rendered him a little helpless. The little shit was stronger than she looked, and her weight on his biceps combined with his trapped legs made it almost impossible to move. He shifted, and she dug her nails into his arms.
The slight sensation of pain combined with his dick moving in and out of her pussy was almost too much. He squeezed his eyes shut, threw back his head, and groaned. When in the hell did he start liking pain so much? He moved his hands over her hips and relaxed. Fuck it. If she wanted to give him the ride of his life, who was he to argue? He moved his hands up her ribcage to her breasts to focus on pleasing her. He pulled her down to him and took a nipple into his mouth and savored it. He sucked it into his mouth and then gave her back a little of the pain she’d dished out to him by nipping the taught bud.
“Mmm… more, ” she moaned, and her urgent thrusting slowed.
He used his mouth to continue sucking and nipping at her nipples. His big hands cupped her ass and guided the tempo of their fucking for a few strokes before he felt himself unable to hold on much longer. All of the teasing and sensations of pleasure mixed with a little pain had him fighting for control. He had to get her to where he was otherwise he’d leave her behind. He pressed his thumb against her clit and swirled the nub in a tight circle. Marianna leaned back and grabbed his thighs.
The sight of this beautiful woman exposed to him made time stand still. Her pussy clamped down on his cock and she screamed his name in a long sensuous moan as her body locked. Her thighs squeezed him, and he shuttled his cock into her pussy. His back arched, and his balls tightened as he gripped her ass and shoved deep inside her. She grabbed his hands and shoved them down above his head while she slowly moved up and down his cock.
“Oh fuck,” he cried, squeezing his eyes shut.
The supernova hitting his body made his hips jerk and took his breath away. Somehow he managed to release himself from her grip. He grabbed her hips and forced her down onto his cock as a second wave hit him. She was still, and when he came back to planet earth; his fingers were digging into her waist. He relaxed his grip,
“Come here,” he said in between breaths.
Marianna placed her head on his chest, and Lars relaxed into the bed as he held her close. Much like he did when he finished a long run, he took a couple of deep gulps to catch his breath and return his heart rate back to normal. His stomach grumbled in protest at having not eaten since yesterday and all the exercise. A bubbly giggle made him smile.
“Are you hungry?”
“I told you I haven’t eaten anything.”
Lifting her head from his chest, she kissed him and combed her fingers through his beard. “There’s an Applebee’s next door.”
Lars closed his eyes and exhaled. “Sounds like a plan,”
* * *
“Good evening, Special Agent Garza.” Joaquin drew his weapon and pointed in the direction of the voice. He’d just come into a dark house after a twelve-hour day. A lamp flicked on, and a man who looked like one of the guys who worked at the office was relaxing in Joaquin’s chair. “Put the weapon away. I assure you, we’re both on the same side.”
“Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you get into my house, motherfucker?”
“My name is Jones and I’m from the NSA.”
“Right, asshole, and I’m Barrack Obama, President of the United States. Now you have exactly five seconds to tell me who the fuck you really are before I shoot to kill.”
The man sighed and held up his hands, causing Joaquin to jerk his weapon and seriously consider his threat. “I want to take out my ID, if you don’t mind,” Jones said.
“That better be all that comes out of that ass pocket of yours.” The man left one hand in the air, reached behind him, pulled out a white ID card and held it up. “Slide it across the table and go real slow. I don’t like surprises.”
Jones slid the card across the coffee table, and it stopped just short of falling over the edge. Without taking his eyes off of the man in the chair, Joaquin picked up the ID and glanced at it. He checked for the watermark that made it a legitimate US government ID and saw it in an instant. He lowered his weapon and read the rest. The man’s name was Jones and the ID was a CAC Card used to gain access to a US military installation. In the picture, the man had a high and tight haircut instead of the longer businessman type cut he now wore. The man in the ID card was in a desert camouflage uniform instead of the civilian clothes, but overall, they were the same person. The ID card identified his rank as a Major in the United States Army and his home base was Langley Air Force Base— NSA headquarters and spook central. The man moved and Joaquin tensed and pointed his weapon again.
“Just because it looks real doesn’t mean I believe you. Breaking and entering is still against the law, even for the NSA. You have to have cause”—he held up the ID card—“and the United States Military can’t operate on home soil. Now what the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“You’ve been working a case for the last three years involving a Mexican national here illegally by the name of Jimena Montez.”
“So?”
“Your boss will be telling you to drop the investigation.”
“Why?”
“Your case is interfering with our surveillance in a matter involving national security.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your surveillance. I just got a warrant from a federal judge today, and I’ll be going to Miami tomorrow afternoon to arrest that bitch.”
“Your trip’s been cancelled, and the warrant has been withdrawn. Ms. Montez will be apprehended but not by the DEA. I need you to go away quietly.”
“Is that your favor?”
“Not exactly. I need you to talk to your reporter friend from the Austin American Statesman and tell her to back off.”
“That might be a problem for me and Mrs. Banta. Ms. Montez killed her husband, a cop with the Austin Police Department. I take it real personal when someone kills a cop, especially when he’s a friend.”
Jones sighed and looked away. “I know all about Detective and Mrs. Banta. As tragic as all of that was, I need you to tell her to stop. Now. Tell her to back the hell off before she gets hurt. If she doesn’t, she’ll end up buried next to her husband.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Jones stood. “Do I have to spell it out for you? If Mrs. Banta doesn’t get out of the way, she may become collateral damage. And if it helps to convince her, you can also tell her that Montez has taken a contract out on her, and the hit man is a damn good one.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“He’s ours and the best there is.”
God how Joaquin hated spooks! These fuckers talked in riddles and did some messed up shit that defied common sense. “Get the fuck out.”
Jones shrugged and walked up to Joaquin. He stuck his hand out and Joaquin handed him his ID card. He went to the front door. “You’ve been warned. If you’re a real friend, you’ll get Mrs. Banta out of the way before she gets killed.”
* * *
“I promise I won’t steal your food.”
He laughed and picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Bad habit. For a long time, I only had a few minutes to grab a bite and then get back to work.”
“Really? What did you do?”
“I was in the same unit as Mac.”
“Did you do the same thing Mac did?”
He shrugged and picked up his fork. “Pretty much.”
“You know, Lars, there are only two things I know about Mac and what he did in the military, and that’s from the picture hanging in their house. I know he was in the Army and a Green Beret.”
“That’s it. I was in the Army and a Green Beret.”
“You guys drive me nuts,” she said, picking up her coffee cup and taking a drink. “So why did you get out?”
“It was time.” Lars seriously thought about his answer to her. If they spent any kind of time together, sooner or later she’d find out about his PTSD. Since meeting her, all he could think about was spending every second he could with her. Admitting he silently suffered from all the horrific things he’d done and seen while he served his country was something he’d struggled with since he’d returned from his last tour. Marianna was looking off into the distance, making it easier. “It’s been hard to get used to being home this time.”
The way she looked at him, she understood his meaning perfectly. Lars looked away. Her eyes filled with pity made him regret he’d said anything at all. She put down her cup and took his hand.
“Marianna, I didn’t tell you that so you could feel sorry for me. I said it because you’ll eventually see it, and I don’t want that to be a surprise.”
“What will I see?”
He pulled away and picked up his coffee cup. He stared into it and wished it could have the answers to his complicated life. “You’ll know.”
“Is it PTSD?” He took a drink from his cup and said nothing. “Lars, do you think this is the first time I’ve ever dealt with PTSD? My husband was a Marine and a cop in a gang violence unit. Mac had a lot of issues when he retired. And neither of them wanted anyone to feel sorry for them. I’m here for you whenever you need to talk, and I promise I’ll just listen. Even if we walk away from each other, I hope we can stay friends.”
“Is that what you want? To be friends?”
“That depends on you.” She pulled his hand back and ran her fingers over the tattoo on his left forearm. Her fingers were warm and soft, and the gentle stroking made him suppress a shiver. He couldn’t recall a woman who made him shiver and seemed to be able to read his mind. “What does this mean? I don’t understand the letters,”
The ink work had been done while he was stationed in Germany almost ten years ago. He’d had three different artists come up with a design then modified the one that had come closest to what he’d envisioned. The wings and four broad strokes went from one end of his arm to the other, they made a “V” and underneath the letters were a combination of old Norse and English and spelled “Valkyrie”. From there, ten successive strokes came down in ascending lengths with the longest meeting in the center then mirroring on the other side. The artist had called it Die Flügel der Valkyrie or The Wings of Valkyrie.
“It spells Valkyrie.”
“It sounds familiar. I know there was a movie by that name. What does it mean?”
He smiled and watched her fingers trace over the design. “I didn’t have that done because I saw a movie. The Valkyrie are from Norse mythology. The old Norsemen believed the Valkyrie chose who would die on the battlefield, sort of like avenging angels or the Angel of Death.”
Frowning, she started to say something, but her phone ringing diverted her attention. Off and on her phone had been ringing most of the morning, and she’d chosen to ignore it. This time, he saw flicker of emotion he couldn’t read. For some reason, she’d chosen to take this call, which piqued his curiosity.
“Hey! Did you get my email?” Her expression changed. “Wait. What?” Lars looked down at his plate and pushed it away. “Who the hell was that guy and why did he do that?” She closed her eyes in frustration and let out an exasperated sigh. “So basically that’s it? You can’t move forward?” He snuck a glance and noticed her lips had thinned, and she was frustrated and now getting angry. “I understand. Thanks for the news.” She hung up the phone, closed her eyes, and shook her head. “Damn it,” she whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lars asked.
“That was the DEA agent I was working with. The investigation has been put on hold indefinitely.”
“Why?”
“He said Luc’s case was turned over to another agency,”
“I’m sorry. I know you were close.”
“Not close, almost done.” She sat back. “Son of a bitch,”
He got up and moved to the seat next to her. “Did he say anything else?”
“Nothing that surprised me after that news.”
“What else did he say?”
“If you freaked out about me missing for a couple of days, this news will put you in a panic.” He waited for her to continue. She glanced at him then back at the table. He put his finger under her chin and redirected her gaze at him. He cocked his head and waited. “She’s put a contract out on me.”
Lars’s eyes popped. “Jesus, Marianna, he told you that?”
She shrugged, “It’s not the first time someone’s threatened to kill me. I have a tendency to piss people off with some of the stuff I write.”
He wouldn’t have believed her flippancy at this news if he hadn’t seen it for himself. He would’ve hoped news of that magnitude would’ve gotten her attention and made her take pause. He took her upper arms and turned her toward him. “There’s a difference between threatening you and putting money down for a professional contract on your life!” She rolled her eyes. “This is serious!”
“What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m not hiding. I’ve spent the last three years of my life trying to take this woman down. I sure as hell am not stopping now!”
Lars glanced around, even though they were arguing in hushed tones, with what he’d just heard, he knew he had to get her out of here and back to Tampa pretty damn quick. He had to think about what to do next. He dug out some cash and threw it on the table.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
* * *
“So you’re telling me nothing you’ve seen at the club sparks the slightest bit of curiosity in you? Nothing there turns your crank? Just a little?”
They were halfway through the four-hour drive from Miami back to Tampa. It had been quiet for the first hour then they fell into random conversation about current events and now the club. Lars thought about her question for a moment. There was actually one thing that had caught his attention and had fascinated him when he watched the demonstration for a class.
“Well maybe,” he said.
“And that would be?”
“It’s nothing, it was interesting to watch.”
“Lord! Every time I ask you a question I feel like I’m interrogating you!”
Laughing, he glanced at her and turned down the radio. Maybe this was something he could talk to her about.
“Shibari. I thought it was sort of cool. It was almost like…art.”
“It is, isn’t it? All those knots and ropes lined up to make patterns.”
“That, and the trust involved. I remember watching the guy work on the woman he was with. It was really sweet the way he touched her, almost like he was worshiping her.” She didn’t say anything right away, causing him to take a quick glance at her. She was staring at him. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. In fact I’ve never heard it described so simply and so beautifully.”
&nbs
p; “Have you ever done anything like that?” he asked.
She giggled. “No, honey. I don’t have the patience to tie all those intricate knots.”
“You’ve never been tied up? Why not?”
“B-because, I’m not the one who gets tied up.” She tripped over her words.
“Would you let me do that to you?”
From his periphery he could see the look of utter astonishment on her face. “D-do you want to?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He thought about it for a few minutes and then nodded. “Of all the things I’ve seen, that’s probably something I could do that wouldn’t make me feel like I was hurting you. So yeah, I’d do it.”
She cleared her throat, “Lars, in case you haven’t figured this out yet, I’m a Domme not a submissive. It’s not my role.”
“Does that matter? And I wouldn’t do it with anybody but you, so when you’re ready, let me know.”
She sat back in her seat and shook her head. “You clearly don’t understand how this works.”
9
Two months had passed in a blur. What had taken her and Luc years to develop, she and Lars seem to have in few weeks. He was opening up to her little by little, and together, they seemed to be healing each other. He’d listen to her and ask probing questions that made her feel as if what she was saying was really important to him. She’d gotten a glimpse of the PTSD that haunted him and finally convinced him to go get help at the Tampa VA Hospital, and he’d asked her to go with him. As the days slipped by, she found herself less and less fixated on her hatred and grief. She’d left Austin and the paper and, for now, was content to let the police do their job. She knew it would take time so Lars had convinced her to let the mystery of the Black Widow slip into a bad memory.
Lars had done something to her, something she couldn’t explain. Their relationship allowed her to start a clean chapter in her life. She hadn’t forgotten Luc and she never would. But now that part of her life was over, and his contribution to her life’s story had made her stronger and wiser. With Lars she’d started a fresh, blank page. Things had changed, and as she stood behind the screen taking her clothes off, she realized just how deeply those changes had affected her. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the silk robe. She was nervous and a little afraid. What the hell is wrong with me? She’d faced down gang bangers in some of Austin’s darkest, seediest streets and had not been this afraid. She hadn’t been this anxious and scared the night she lost her virginity. She took a deep breath and slipped on the robe, and the cool silk brushing her bare skin made her shiver. Swallowing hard, she realized there was no turning back as she padded barefoot from behind the screen. Kneeling on a large pillow, she waited for what seemed like an eternity.