by Celia Crown
Going down on the list of people, I stop at my name.
“Uh, Mattie said no special treatment.” Camille clears her throat sheepishly and highlights the former director’s name on her list too.
“You always had the suspicion that I’m one of the enemies,” I point out, and she nods without hesitation.
“You can’t be too careful,” she said, spinning her chair to face me, “Mattie got the same information diving from me, you’re not being singled out.”
It doesn’t make me feel any better, if anything, I feel a burn of dissatisfaction that she doesn’t trust me after this month of being together in a little office and on the same bed.
Close proximity does tend to make false intimacy.
“That was before I know you, before I could really trust you even if Mattie said you’re a good guy.” Camille smiles, gentle and beautiful.
“It’s okay now, I trust you. Or I wouldn’t have shown you my face even when Mattie said I had to. I choose to believe in you before we met, he talks about you a lot and I went with my gut when we first met.”
My heart skips a beat, fluttering in my ribs to kiss those pink lips.
“You can't say you trusted me when we met.”
She has a point, I didn’t trust her at all and it’s because her reputation as Grey caused me so much trouble and that her world is in the darknet while I’m bounded by the laws. We are polar opposites that shouldn't have crossed paths, but because of her criminal background, we are more likely to meet than people on the streets.
“Do you see this line?” she points and makes the line yellow for me to follow her train of thoughts.
“It’s Pelinko’s work, he likes to brag about his skills, but he is a good hacker. Not many people know what his agenda is, and he is a rare type of hacker. He has an extremely high presence, always bouncing from one job to another to put his name out there.”
I frown, “You keep saying ‘he’.”
She grins widely, “I found him. I left him alone before, but I guess this deems as a threat, so I got his name for you.”
“Pull him up,” I grunt, my chest swells with pride at her work.
She does what I tell her to, typing and showcasing information on the screens of a middle-aged man with a goatee. He’s the type of guy that wears flannels, black-rimmed glasses, and a beanie.
I’m right when a bunch of pictures comes up. He really only has one style, nothing too outrageous to gain attention other than the messenger bike.
“He’s been in contact with this woman a lot.” Camille gives me the face of a woman.
She’s the vice president of an investment company, that’s all the information I need to know as Camille explains her finding to me.
“Ms. Willis looks innocent on her profile, nothing too funky about her financials or personal life. However, she invested in an upcoming biochemical lab out in Philadelphia.”
Nothing too alarming as it’s in their business to invest in companies to make a profit on the road down, what I don’t understand is why Camille is talking about this woman as if she is some part of the big story she is performing.
“That biochemical company is owned by an LLC which gets traced back to it being opened through a Swiss account, and don’t listen to anyone who tells you that things can’t be traced because I found out the owner of the account that goes by the name of Congresswoman Allison Ortiz.”
She pauses, smiling at me so innocently. “Still with me? It’s okay to ask the teacher to slow down, I don’t mind explaining,”
My stoic face answers her as she takes no offense to me not humoring her.
“Congresswoman Ortiz use to work at the Health Department before transferring over to the CDC where she worked as a lab technician before going for Congress.”
The pieces of the puzzle come to me quickly, putting themselves together in an order that’s easy to understand as I memorize the woman’s face for future references.
“The code you found in the Health Department,” I said, just simply stating the fact.
“It’s right in the middle of her working for that agency, she didn’t quit right away because she doesn't want to bring suspicion on her when we find this code, and not put it there the first day of work too.” Camille hums, turning to face the screens again and laughs.
“Nothing gets pass little old Cammie,” she praises herself, patting her chest proudly.
“If we’re going after a congresswoman, we need more than coincidences,” I said.
She lifts a finger and wags it at me with a click of her tongue, “No, no. I don’t do things halfway.”
“This came to me last night; the first attack was to create casualty by the maximum impact that you can physically feel the damages, and I’m betting my name on the second attack will be a wave of toxic radiation or some form of aerosol poisoning.”
I raise an eyebrow; inkling confusion fogs my head as I look at her and decipher what she means. It does make sense that the first attack creates an impact that everyone is afraid of another with the same effect or even greater, but we had pushed away from the thought of another delivery system since each terrorist group has their unique way of achieving their ambitions.
We went with our guts and years of experience clearing out terrorist cells to know that they wouldn’t change their way of delivery in the opposite direction.
I voice my concern to her, she is oddly calm after coming up with that theory when I’m ready to call a meeting with the other directors.
“Her doctoral thesis is ‘The Inescapable Fate Cast Upon Humanity’ for her religious study. This woman is bonkers.”
“Evidence,” I remind her.
“There’s payment coming in and going out from the Swiss account and the biochemical company. She is their only investor and they have been studying the Bubonic Plague on the down low.” Camille reaches down, plucking a USB drive and dropping it on my hand.
The information to prevent another terrorist attack is in my hands, it has the metaphorical weight of the entire nation on my shoulders, but her smile gives me the strength to face the incoming battle that will drag on with the congresswoman.
“Go get her.” she beams brightly, fueling my doubts with her conviction.
I cannot find it in me to doubt her words when she has been working hard. If this is wrong, there will be dire consequences that would throw both of us into a world of pain. I can only shoulder on so much of the pain that gets inflicted on her before my own would crumble the strength in me.
“Don’t worry, I have confidence that this information is all you need to be a hero to your people.”
She puts her hand above my beating heart, steadily running as she pats on my chest twice.
“You can blame me if I’m wrong, I’ll be right here when you come back to yell at me.”
She’s going to run, I just know it. Everything in my body is shouting at me to not leave and let this information go to Matt and let him handle it, I need to be here to watch her stay. I don’t know what would happen to me if she left when I’m arresting the congresswoman.
Matt had mentioned that she would be impossible to find once she is out of my sight.
I can't fathom the thought of her gone.
“Here,” she said, dropping a dinosaur patch onto my other hand.
It’s her lucky item that she doesn’t go anywhere without, and it is securely crunched into my fingers.
That makes me feel better.
“Don’t run,” I press my lips on hers.
She laughs, “I won’t.”
Chapter Nine
Camille
I roll over onto my tummy as I flip another page to the report that I found, I want to make sure that I have all the right information for the team that has been dispersed to dismantle the congresswoman’s ploy to destroy the country.
Mark has been gone three days and is under radio silence orders to prevent any leaks as the team he leads only has six agents. The fewer people know
about this stint the better is for them to brush any mistakes under the rug. When it’s the nation that’s in danger, everyone doesn’t have the time to be politically correct and not want to step on any toes.
Shoot first and ask questions later, that’s always been the motto for many of the agents that work in terrorism.
Over the course of the days that I am left by myself in his secure office, I realize that the hidden message is there. This isn’t a test of my loyalties, but a faith of his trust in me. He believes in Camille to not be Grey in his life, and I have no intention of breaking that trust in me through snooping.
I’m not a traitor, and even if I was, I would have gone through illegal channels that are less complicated than meeting him and trying to steal information off his computer. Any hacker would know that our anonymity is our biggest weapon, and by showing my face to Mark, that already negate the use of bringing an attack on him.
I don’t know why he trusts me.
Hackers are not to be trusted, we can be vindictive to those who have wronged us, and it usually ends very badly for the other party. However, I can't find it in me to hurt Mark because the disappointment would crush me.
I stretch my arms and flop down on the bed, right into his pillow where I can still smell him. I can't help that he smells heavenly good, and this place only has standard hygienic products, so no one can get an allergic reaction to lavender scented soap.
Sometimes I would just put my nose to the crook of his neck and smell him, Mark thinks I’m a weird girl but that’s because he doesn’t know what he smells like. If he has any idea, then he would be sniffing himself all day.
I always forget that promise he made me, the promise of making me beg for his touch. I lost a couple of days after he proposed it, but I try to play it off as me being affectionate and not begging. Those are two different desperations for his touch. There are times where his hands would find their place between my thighs and just tease me for hours, and I came close to begging him those times, but I held myself back with some dignity.
A long month of torturous pleasure and never an orgasm is too much for my body to handle, and now the Mark has been gone for three days, I’m going through withdrawal without his big body.
It’s going to be another night of coldness under the covers, Mark has become my newest body pillow and furnace since he has a much higher body temperature than normal people. It must be the muscles he’s packing under those tanned and scarred skin, it gives him character as each scar has their own story.
Every night, he’s been feeding me stories of the battle scars with his hands playing my body. There’s only so much that I can focus on when his fingers are thrumming my clit with rapid circles that has my brain firing distress signals when he stops just as I approach my orgasm, but I stayed strong and refused his pleasure of having me beg him to end my misery.
Pride is a deadly sin, a sin that I will drag on until Lust takes over. It’s not far behind as my body is used to the schedule of our nightly scandalous affairs, I get tingly and pulse with need as the night drags on.
I push aside the files and it scatters on the floor as I sit up with my back against the wall since there’s no bedframe or anything to surround the bed with. Its only height comes from the extra box frame under the bed because Mark says it would hinder his speed to get a good shot at whoever comes through the door.
I was terrified to have found out that he kept a gun under his pillow when he slept, and he is a very light sleeper. Any unusual movement would make his eyes snap open and a hand under his pillow with a finger on the trigger.
Honestly, I thought I was going to die on the first night we platonically slept together. We didn’t do anything nasty under the sheets, I have more dignity than that.
However, it’s that undeterred focus that turns me on every night when he looks hungry.
I snag the panties from my legs and slip my fingers between my thighs, grazing my wet folds and whining at the difference in desire. I’m used to Mark’s rough and rugged hands that my softer ones don’t do justice on my pulsing clit.
I take another deep breath.
Oh god, he smells so deliciously dark. I close my eyes and my thoughts drift to Mark and his inked body, a body stronger than steel and eyes of a ferocious beast. He no longer scares me as he did at first because of the way he looked at me like I was his number one enemy. At one point, maybe, but then later I found out that he looks at me because of the things I made him feel, made him question his priorities as he had told me through his touches that he wants to possess me in every way possible.
I begin to ache more between my legs, a dull throbbing pressures me to rub my clits in the same way his fingers would. Trying to imitate his strokes is relatively impossible as he’s thicker and more calloused, the sensation of parting my folds brings cool air to brush my twitching hole that awaits longingly for the burn of his fingers.
I’m soaking wet just by thinking of his long fingers stretching my walls.
Starting with slow circles on my clit to satiate my need to cum, the pleasure creeps higher and higher until a quiet moan tumbles out of me with my tummy quivering in frustrated mewls. Tossing my head to the side and inhale the pillow, his scent brings my desire into a needy whine as I tentatively press at the opening of my hole.
Hesitation nips on my conscience, thinking of how I could feel good with my thin fingers as I slowly sink one finger in. It’s different, it doesn’t bring much pleasure to me, so I push another finger in and not move as I get familiar with the feeling.
The rubs on my clit help, something is coming and I know it’s the orgasm I have been denied for the whole month. Mark usually makes me feel like I’m going to be thrown off the cliff when he fingers me, but this time it’s more of a softer and not that satisfying as I can just feel how the insufficient intensity would make me frown.
That isn’t the problem anymore, not when I really need to get off. Being deprived of my pleasure for so long has rendered me to search for anything because a small orgasm is better than none.
My body demands it.
When the stretching in my walls doesn’t feel as good, I take them out to focus on my clit. Bringing the slippery digits to replace with my other ones makes it easier for me to rub faster, I’m shuddering in anticipation when my body begins to tighten.
A startled gasp makes my eyes fly open as a pair of thicker, longer, and stronger fingers thrust into my pussy. I cry out in a wanton moan, shaking in my paralyzed state as my eyes regain their sharpness onto Mark’s face above mine.
My mouth opens to say his name, but he thrums my clit with his thumb and my mind goes blank with stars littering in my eyes, I squeak as my hips eagerly rock to the rhythm of his thumb as he keeps his fingers stretching between my walls.
He doesn’t move them, just letting my muscles contract and flutter around them.
“M-Mark!” I mewl shakily, tears beading the corners of my eyes as he deliberately thrust his fingers into my pussy.
“You just can’t control yourself,” he growls, low and menacing.
It’s so good to hear his voice, I groan at the thrills running down to my toes as his chest rumbles in that baritone voice.
My thighs open wider, a coil in my belly is holding on the last of my sanity as my orgasm approach unnervingly fast. He fucks my pussy with his fingers like the way he had told me he would fuck my pussy the moment I beg for him.
As if reading my thoughts, he yanks his hand away and my voice cracks in distress.
“N-no, no. Please no!” I whimper pitifully.
I try to grasp his hand and move it back, but he grips my thigh instead, smearing my juices onto the inner tenderness of my leg.
I’m too wound up to care about the game we’ve been playing for weeks now, I need to cum or I would go mad. I toss my pride and my dignity out the window with my voice going to a higher pitch.
“Please make me cum, Mark. Please, please—I’ll do whatever you say, just please to
uch me!”
A deep rumble hits my ears like a purr of an engine, I moan happily when he rips off his shirt to showcase those mouthwatering muscles. I can tell he’s impatient because he hastily unbuttons and throws the zipper down of his pants, his dark briefs leave the size of his cock all in the open as imagination can’t even cover it. it’s right there, all big and thick with my skin prickling in anticipation at the slick burn on my slits.
I moan loudly at the girthy length in his hand when he takes out his cock, it’s so big and it looks even bigger when his hand furiously tugs on it. I lick my lips at the clear droplet falling onto the bed from the head of his cock, I wiggle impatiently and look up at him with my biggest and most innocent expression to just nudge him to break the hold on his restraints.
I don’t need the composed and collected Mark, I need the mean and primal beast in him to take me and take away the month of blissful torment.
It would seem that he has something different in mind, his arm hooks under my thighs and yank me down on the bed, the back of my head narrowly avoided the wall as he pins my thighs on the mattress.
Mark blatantly stare at my wet pussy, being spread open for him is a thrill itself and I’m too naked.
“These stay right there,” Mark hisses between his teeth, smacking one of my thighs as my body jolts at the sharp sting.
I nod frantically, hands flying to keep them apart for him as he drops onto the bed and spread my folds with his thumbs. I could feel the slick breaking as he parts my slits obscenely wide, my clit is pulled taut and he doesn’t let me dwell on a single thought as he pounces.
Lapping greedily, from my puckering hole to my twitching clit in long stripes of his tongue. I crush my thighs in my weak hands and buck in his mouth, he sucks my clit in his mouth and presses his tongue flatly on the button as I nearly blackout at the intensity in his ministration.