Operation: Thrustmaster (Rock Hardin: Agent of A.S.S. Book 1)

by Alana Melos

  “Well, we grow ‘em bigger in Texas,” Maverick drawled, and familiarized himself with his new arsenal as Skip turned to Rock.

  “Not much for you, just what I had on hand,” Skip said, his voice apologetic. “Same breath spray, one to two doses. Your standard firearm, and a secondary one made to be concealed in a hollow boot sole…” Skip picked up a pair of boots, and while the soles looked only slightly thicker than usual--nothing unusual if he had to go climbing somewhere--the mechanic pressed a spot, and swung the sole to the side. What lay inside was what appeared to be a small steel bar, just over the length of his hand from his middle finger to his wrist. Skip took out the bar, and snapped it open. Within seconds, he had a thin looking mini gun. “Micro uzi, thirty small caliber rounds, so use them wisely. Last,” he said, holding up a finger, “I’m most proud of.” He brought out a pair of sunglasses, innocent and unassuming. “These glasses are lined with a special filter which focuses waves from the infrared spectrum onto a sensor…”

  “Infrared?” Rock asked, interrupting Skip before he got too far into his tech talk.

  “Thermal imaging, instead of regular. It’ll look a little weird, but it’ll enable you to search quickly for heat sources, like people,” Skip said with a smile. “And that’s all I’ve got.”

  “It’ll do,” Maverick said, hefting his duffle.

  “Thanks, Skip,” Rock added.

  Skip watched them go, and sighed. Rock heard him lament as the elevator doors closed, “I wish I could test in the field sometime…. oh well.”

  Chapter Two

  From their base of operations, Hardin and Maverick took two different jets. Although Ms. Cutler had been kidnapped from Paris--which was where Rock headed--from all intelligence they could gather, Dr. Cutler had been told to fly to London--which was Maverick’s destination. On the jet, Rock relaxed as much as he could, sipping from his Macallan scotch. As always, he got wired up before a mission with excitement as opposed to nerves. He played it cool, but under his skin the engine which ran him hummed with energy.

  Looking over the dossier didn’t yield much information: the hotel, a quick rundown on Sebastian LeMarchand, another rundown on Cynthia “Cindy” Cutler, summation of the attack… and that was about it. Since it had happened so fast, and the ransom demand almost immediately delivered, it told Rock the persons who had done this were organized, and had been planning this for a while. His only real lead was LeMarchand which remained thin at best. He finished his drink, and looked out the window into the darkness. Maybe his contact would have something more by the time he landed. If not… he welcomed a challenge, something to put his prodigious skills to the test.

  His plane landed, and as he exited he spied his contact right away. She’d come to meet him out on the runway, and her long brown hair fluttered in the stiff breeze on the French airfield. Rock hooked his duffle over his shoulder and sauntered out to meet her. The contact was gorgeous: a heart-shaped faced with lush lips ready to be kissed, breasts which would fill a man’s hands nicely, and a body that wouldn’t quit. It didn’t hurt that she dressed provocatively as well, giving him an excellent view of her cleavage and her long legs as her thin skirt blew around her, clinging to her form. “Agent Hardin?” she asked, her accent making his name sound sexy.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You must be my contact.”

  “Oui,” she said, holding a delicate hand out. He took it in his and laid a kiss upon the back, then straightened to see her smiling at him in approval. “I am Petite Morte.”

  “‘Little Death’,” he translated. “How… appropriate.”

  A quirk of her lush lips told him she was amused. “It is my code name.”

  “Of course it is,” he said. “What do you have for me, Petite?”

  “If you would come this way,” Petite said, gesturing behind her. This was a private airfield, chosen for privacy. He didn’t want to take the chance any enemy operatives might have been watching the main airports. Rock fell in step behind her, watching her beautiful ass move in her skirt as she walked. “We expected you earlier.”

  “There were complications,” he said.

  She tsked as she opened the car door to a black Peugoet 403. “I expected you to be punctual, and time is of the essence, is it not? Your ASS friends were in a hurry.”

  He threw the duffle into the back seat and slid into the passenger side. “You ever watch Colombo?”

  Petite blinked at him as she shut her door and started the car. “Columbo?” She laughed, a trill of delight escaping her, “Oui, I love that program!”

  Rock smiled, glancing out the window. “One of my favorites too,” he said. He wasn’t a huge car buff, but anyone who watched television knew the cars the stars used in the shows. It was a trip to be riding in something the fictional detective drove. “Have you been out of the country much?”

  “No,” Petite said, still smiling. “I have been around Europe--but never anywhere too far. I would love to go to America.”

  “Groovy,” he said, glancing around. “Are you a native Paris girl?”

  “Oui… yes, yes I am,” she smiled. “When this is done, perhaps I will show you around town, yes?”

  Rock looked to her, and their gazes locked, brown eyes to brown eyes. His cock stirred, and he willed himself not to get hard. “I would love that,” he said softly. “How could I refuse an invite from a beautiful woman like yourself?”

  She laughed softly, and looked back to the road. “You flatter me.”

  “I only speak the truth,” he said, then sighed. Business still had to come first. “Take me to LeMarchand, and if you have anything so far….”

  “On the seat, between us,” she said, pulling out onto the dirt road and heading towards Paris, maybe ten miles away. He paged through it while she summed up, “As you can see, LeMarchand did not know the attackers. There were two, and they concentrated on the girl, but I am sure you already know this. We found rappelling gear on top of the hotel… and surmise they must have gotten in through the employee entrance… there is… simply not much to go on.”

  “Organized and methodical,” Rock murmured, looking over the reports. “She was staying under an alias, and paid cash for everything, no checks. Her own father didn’t know where she was… how did they?”

  “It is a mystery, yes?” Petite said as they hit the outskirts of Paris. “Have you heard anything from the other agent? Any progress on finding Monsieur Cutler?”

  Rock shook his head, his mind going over the possibilities. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “The hotel suite first. I don’t think I’ll get anything more out of LeMarchand, and maybe there’s something...there.” He leaned back in his seat, and pondered what would his childhood hero, Sherlock Holmes, think of the situation. If he figured out how they found her, he’d find them. He felt in his pocket for his pack of Lucky Strikes, and glanced around. “You have a lighter?”

  “Oui, my purse,” she said as she changed routes. “We will be there shortly.”

  Grabbing her purse and opening it, he moved aside her Walther and found the cheap lighter. After he shook out a smoke and lit it, he set the purse aside once more. “Where am I staying at?”

  “For simplicity, the same hotel, though not nearly as expensive,” she said, glancing to him and giving him a smile. “Two birds, one stone. Much easier this way.”

  “Much,” he agreed, blowing a jet of smoke out the window.

  Once they arrived and parked in an underground garage, Petite and Rock made their way up to the penthouse suite. French intelligence had finished their investigation… not that there was much to investigate. The suite had been lived in for a while, Ms. Cutler’s beauty products were lined up neatly in the bathroom, and her clothes had been put away in the dressers. The glass of the balcony doors had been broken from the outside by the rappellers. The bloodstain on the floor was consistent with someone being shot and given medical attention almost right away. Nothing was left here. He only had the one lead to go
on….

  “Need to head back to my room,” he said. “Going to drop this stuff off, then we’ll hit LeMarchand.”

  Petite agreed, and down to the fifth floor they went. His room was smaller than the suite, though still nice enough, and with a king sized bed. Once he closed the door behind them both, he turned to Petite and looked down into her guileless brown eyes as he dropped his duffle to the ground. “There’s something I need from you….” he said, making his voice soft as he leaned in.

  “Do you think this is really the time, Agent Hardin?” she asked, returning his gaze. The tone of her voice matched his, and she arched her back just a little, meeting him halfway in closing the space between them.

  His fingertips grazed her cheek, and as he leaned in even further, so close he knew she could feel his breath on her lips, “I need the truth.”

  “The… what is this?” she asked, and her eyes flicked away for just a second, and he knew he was right. “Some American joke?”

  His fingertips moved from her cheek to her neck, tracing a smooth line down her body. He knew without having to use Skip’s special glasses her temperature had risen. Rock could practically hear her heart hammering against her chest, fast and light, like a trapped bird. Instead of answering her question, he pushed in for the kiss, brushing his lips against hers. Petite didn’t resist him, but rather leaned into the kiss, turning it deeper, harder. Matching her intensity, he took over the kiss, tasting her, dominating her until she had no choice but to melt against him. With his free hand, he circled her waist, then spun her around while they were still kissing, moving her back towards the bed as he kicked off his boots.

  Her hands wrapped around his neck, holding him close. Passion built between them, and before it could reach a crescendo, he broke the kiss and tossed her gently onto the bed. “Oh, Agent Hardin!” she exclaimed, laughing just a bit. She made a ‘come here’ gesture with her finger, and shifted her legs slightly, letting her skirt fall back towards her to expose her legs.

  Rock shrugged off his jacket and tossed it in a nearby seat, within arm’s reach of the bed, then took his time unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his rock hard pecs and abs. Petite looked on, licking her lips with anticipation. He stepped forward, and put himself in between her legs, his hands caressing her thighs as he traced a path up her body. When he reached her skirt, he raised the hem of it even further to expose her white lace panties. “Mm… yes,” she murmured as his fingers slid along her sex. The agent hooked his fingers into the delicate piece of clothing and lowered them, sliding them off of her legs and tossing them aside carelessly.

  As he knelt between her legs, his hands continued to rub and caress her. He began to plant kisses on the inside of her knees, and worked his way up to her pleasure center, tasting every inch of her along the way. The wanton woman writhed upon the bed, luxuriating in the sensations he created, and when he kissed her sex for the first time, she gasped in pleasure. Gently, he spread her legs apart, and kept them there with a firm grip, exposing her to him. Keeping a close watch on Petite, he kissed her pussy once more, then used his tongue to lick her slowly, searching for that one spot which would drive her crazy.

  Petite moaned as he licked around her clit, then flicked his tongue over it. Unabashed, she gave him directions, “Yes… that’s good… faster… to the right… a little more… up… oh a little faster… there… there!” Rock followed her directions, lashing her clit with his tongue. She moaned, bucking her hips against his mouth as he licked her, crying out with pleasure. When she came, it was noisy and loud, no surprise to him at all, and he continued licking, until she begged for him to stop, the sensations almost overwhelming.

  Ending the oral attention with a kiss, he stood up, watching her as she gasped and panted from the exertion of her climax. He undid his jeans and stepped free of them, his cock hard and ready to go. When he rubbed the head of his cock against her sensitive flesh, Petite moaned and opened her eyes. “Oh, I do not know if I can take it… let me suck you instead….”

  “I want you,” he said, leaning down while propping himself up with his arms, so that their lips were almost touching. “I want to feel you…” He planted a soft kiss upon her lips, which she returned automatically. “You’re so sexy and beautiful. Let me have you.”

  “How can I refuse?” she gasped, kissing him again, and nipping his lip. He continued to rub against her, her hot wetness exciting him even more. Rock did this until he could no longer bear it, then shifted his hip, thrusting inside of her tight pussy. He moaned into her mouth as they kissed, feeling her clench around him. Pushing harder, he filled her, burying himself inside her sweet pussy to the hilt.

  Petite wrapped her legs around him, pulling him to her. They rocked together, and he savored the hotness around his cock. Every little motion pushed him closer to coming, but he wanted to wait, to stretch out their lovemaking for as long as he could. He broke their kiss and grazed his lips along her jaw and down her throat, smelling her perfume and the intoxicating scent of her underneath it all. When he finally withdrew, the motion made him cry out against her skin, groaning in pleasure at the friction between them. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her neck, his breath tickling her ear. “So beautiful and sexy…”

  Her fingers clawed his back, and for all of her protests about not being ready to take him, every movement, every whimper urged him onwards. When he thrust into her wetness again, they both moaned in unison, and she throbbed around his aching cock. He had to get control of this, else he would blow his load in a few more thrusts. “I’m going to fuck you from behind,” he whispered in her ear. “And then I’m going to make you come again.”

  “Yes,” she moaned, her voice eager. Rock withdrew quickly, biting his lip as her pussy didn’t seem to want to let him go. He turned her over with her help, and got her situated quickly on her hands and knees on the bed, bouncing slightly as the mattress flexed. Taking control of the situation, he placed a hand on the flat of her back and slid it down towards her shoulders, gently forcing her to simultaneously lower her hand and raise her ass. He kept her there, keeping it sexual and gentle, but ready to lock her down if she should try to move away from him. With his other hand, he guided his cock to her waiting, wet pussy, and thrust inside of her. He didn’t go as deep, but the sensations which rolled through him were nearly the same. Pleasure exploded in his head as he drove into her hotness, withdrawing, then driving into her again and again.

  Petite clawed the bed with her nails, moaning as he fucked her hard. With his free hand, he reached around to slide his fingers along Petite’s hot little clit, fingering her to give her even more pleasure as he drilled her. Her moans became screams of pleasure, telling him to fuck her, harder, faster. He complied as best he could, keeping up the rhythm with his hand as he thrust into her sex faster and faster.

  Too soon, he got to the point of no return, and he slammed into her, again and again. Her pussy pulsed around him, scorching hot as he thrust into her. Every motion, even moan from her lips drove him crazy, and when he felt her climax around his cock, tightening around him, he couldn’t hold back any longer. A last few crazy thrusts into her, and he came, shooting his cum deep inside of her as he held himself there, rocking against her to get every last bit of pleasure out of his climax.

  She panted and gasped for breath, and he longed to collapse on the bed next to her. Instead, he leaned forward, almost bent over her entire body, and said, “Now, I want to know where my real contact is.”

  Confused, and perhaps a little disorientated from the two massive orgasms she’d just experience, Petite at first asked, “What? I don’t … I don’t understand….” Still inside of her, he shook her a little bit, not hurting her, but trying to scare her and help her focus. He repeated the question, and she began to squirm, trying to get away from him.

  Rock straightened up again, withdrew from her sweet pussy, and easily took control of her hands, keeping her on the bed where she was at. It didn’t feel right manhandl
ing a lady like this--it wasn’t how he’d been raised--but she was a spy, and she’d chosen this dangerous life. “I like you, Petite,” he said. “And I don’t want to hurt you, especially after what we just shared….” Already, his cock was twitching, wanting more of her intoxicating love. “But I will if I have to.”

  Sensing his resolve, she ceased her struggling, turning her head so she could see him with one eye at least. “How did you know?”

  “The car and the Walther,” he said. “I’m not up on programming, but I’m pretty sure Columbo hasn’t made it over here yet… it’s still new in the states. That, and your gun….” Rock looked around, making sure her purse was out of reach. “It’s not hard evidence, but I really doubt many French agents would use a Walther PPK. More American, German.” He shrugged, and started to let her up, slowly, keeping control of her wrists at all times. “I could have been wrong, but when I said I wanted the truth… well.”

  “Hmph,” Petite grunted. “You can let go of me now,” she said in a more or less perfectly American voice, or at least… a voice without any real discernible accents.

  “Promise you’ll behave?” he asked.

  “I promise,” she said. When he let go of her, the first thing she did was cover herself properly lowering her skirt. He backed up slowly, and slipped on his boxers and jeans, keeping a wary eye on her.

  “Who hired you? Where’s Cynthia?” he asked as he finished zipping himself up.

  “I don’t know where she is,” she said, crossing her legs demurely.

  “Fine, who hired you?” Rock demanded.

  “I can’t tell you,” she said, a pleading note entering her voice. “He’ll kill my sister.”