"We share a common enemy, Rog, and that's it."
"He's a fucking waste of time," he heard Dallas growl in frustration. Dallas always did have a quick temper.
"Did you call for a reason, Simon?" The exhaustion wasn't hidden in Roger's voice; he managed to perfect the weary older-brother sigh in so little time, Simon mused.
"Yes. I'm working for the FBI to catch Walter. Which means I'm also working for Walter, to get proof to catch him. Which really just means I called to say I'm going to seem like a shady prick for a while, things are going to look dicey for you, but I think I can keep you as a VP contender and I hope I don't get us all killed in the process."
Silence for a minute, and then he heard all three of them erupt on the other line with questions and curses.
Finally Roger cut through, "What are you even talking about?"
Simon ignored him and kept talking. "I'm going to need a favor." This was the tricky part. Simon didn't mind asking for most favors, but it burned him deep that the one thing he needed was the last thing he wanted to ask Roger for.
"Explain what you mean, first."
"I can't, I don't know much beyond what I said. I'm in some trouble it looks like, and the only way out is backstabbing Walter. Probably the stupidest thing I've ever agreed to, but you’ve just got to trust that I didn't have a choice--"
"I could make a call or two for you," Roger interrupted.
"This is above your pay grade, bro," Simon replied. "Anyway, about that favor?"
"Damn it. You used to be so nice, Simon. What do you need?"
"I used to be a lot of things. I need you to encourage Jessica Farmer to move to D.C."
A quick intake of air hissed over the phone. Roger sounded worried. "Is she okay? Is she in danger?"
"Maybe. I'd just like to be able to keep an eye on her while I'm working."
"Surely she's safer where she's at--"
"You want to be all brotherly love, but when I ask you for one fucking thing you start backpedaling?" Simon felt challenged by Roger, still.
"Fine, geez, fine. Amanda's already here. I'm sure it won't be hard to get Jessica here, too. Do you need extra money to cover her escort?"
Fuck. Simon was paying mercenaries to watch over all of them. Roger would draw the obvious conclusion that if Jess was in danger, he'd need to hire extra help.
"No, I think I've got a handle on it."
There was a new edge to Roger's voice when he replied. "You say you think you might end up dead by doing whatever it is that you're doing with the FBI and Walter.Yet you also say Jessica will be safe, being watched by you, the person who might end up dead."
Well, when you put it like that..
"Last time I checked, you were a politician and I was the one trained for covert ops." Simon snapped a little. Mostly because Roger was so totally right. He was bringing Jessica too close while stretching himself thin. But damn it, she was also the only thing he wanted to be around, and his motivation to stay and see this out.
"Fine, whatever. I'm sure you know what you're doing," Roger muttered. "Is there anything else?"
"Nope. Just get Jessica to D.C. and don't panic if I seem like a bad guy."
"That seems like most of the time, Simon."
Roger hung up. Simon enjoyed the silence of the road and the elation that came from solving two of his problems in one day. Walter believed Simon was still his man and soon Jessica would be close by, where he could make sure she was safe.
Speaking of which... he was excited to see her again. It was new and different, knowing that when he saw her, it would be because they were together and not him skulking in a car or a dark corner spying on her. And knowing that she'd want him to be there, with her. That was... incredible. Hard to believe.
His foot pressed harder on the gas as he suddenly couldn't wait to be close to her again.
~ ~ ~ ~
Damn, she looked amazing. She'd looked amazing in jeans. In pajamas. In her workout clothes. But now Jessica stood before him in a silver sheath dress and black stilettos and she was a fucking knock out.
"I'm just taking you to the Lou’s Diner," he joked.
She laughed, its lilting sound hit him at the same time as her subtle perfume, and he closed his eyes, feeling dizzy -- overwhelmed with his good fortune.
"You okay?" She asked, reaching out and touching his arm. As soon as her fingers brushed his jacket sleeve his heart zinged and his entire nervous system sang in pleasure. God, this woman was better than air.
"Yes," he murmured before pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around tight. "Yes, this is perfect."
They kissed and it quickly turned into heated, desperate passion again. It truly was like being in high school again, with the hormones flying and the need to just fall completely into the other person. She must have felt it, too, because when Jessica pushed him away she giggled and said, "whew! Things get so hot with you so fast. You're a dangerous man, Simon."
She had no idea.
They went to dinner. After they'd ordered and the wine had been poured, Jessica bit her lip and blushed. "Simon, I have something to tell you and I don't want you to be mad."
His whole body locked, tendons pulled tight. Breathe, remember your poker face. Things were going so good, though, that any 'don't be mad' comment made him feel anxious and sick. "I won't be, don't worry! What is it?" Good, he managed to keep his alarm out of his voice.
"Roger and I've been talking quite a bit."
Oh? Good. He hoped it was good. He hoped Roger had followed through on the favor Simon had asked. Of course, there was the sick jealousy of knowing that she was talking to her old boyfriend and the father of her child, but... well; he was the father of her child. Now that they were reconnected as friends, Simon would have to accept that Roger would forever be tangled in their lives.
Look at you, planning for a future. Tangled in your lives? This is your second fucking date, moron. You are rushing toward a future you'll probably never have because once she finds out about you--
Simon took a big swing of wine and shut his inner dialog. "That's good. Amanda should have a chance to know her father."
"I think so, too. It's painful to know he would have been there all along, had he known. Sometimes I think about how stupid we were to sign that deal..." she faded for a moment, her eyes looking vague. Into the past.
"If you hadn't, we wouldn't be here together," Simon reminded her. "And that would be the biggest fucking travesty of my life."
She laughed and their eyes met, heated. "You're right. I'm sorry. That was rude. What I meant to say was just that Roger's offered to help me move to D.C. He wants my help getting to know Amanda."
Simon worked so hard not to let his hope shine through or give anything away. It was easy to play the straight face when lying to someone about nasty business. It was shockingly difficult, he found, to disguise elation. "Does she need help getting to know him? She's an adult now, too."
"Yeah, how weird is that? I have an adult child and yet..."
"And yet you're young. And hot." He regretted the juvenile phrase as soon as it left his mouth but she only smiled. Thank god. She made him regress, it felt like. Like he'd need to grow up all over again around her.
"Thanks, you charmer. I know I had her when I was fourteen. Damn," she sighed. "That sounds so impossible saying out loud, even though I've already lived through it. There's this duality about having been a teen mom. I feel like I've already lived this huge, full life. But here I am, in my thirties with an empty nest, you know?"
He shook his head-- no, he didn't know. He could only imagine. Their lives had, in so many ways, been the same. Forced to grow up too soon, to take on responsibilities they weren't ready for. They both owed a lot to Walter Taylor... and they both had a right to bitterness toward the man, as well.
"Listen to me!" She said, blushing anew. He loved how rosy and dewy she looked, a perpetual Botticelli painting come to life. "I keep going on tangents! You make it hard to con
centrate," she admitted, her face now completely red. She drank deeply from her glass and he offered to take her off the hook.
"I feel the same way," he said. "I don't care how many tangents you go on... I could listen to you forever."
Simon wasn't a blusher, but his heart thudded hard in his chest. This feeling he had for her... he'd called it love before. But love wasn't a big enough word to begin to cover it. He was in so much trouble. "You were saying? About Roger asking you to DC?"
"Oh! Right. Yeah, Amanda has wanted to get to know him but is worried about it, too. I mean, I'd planned on never telling her who her father was. So I had to lie and keep her in the dark for her whole childhood. That--that was the worst. And she's still angry with me. But she understands the situation better. I think my being in D.C. could help them. And, well..." she paused, looking for his reassurance to keep speaking.
He nodded. "Keep going," he added, encouraging her.
"And I've been in Richmond my whole life. I have all of this money, still. Not a ton, of course, but the settlement made sure she and I would be well taken care of. We were, but I just never left. No traveling, I got my degree online; I spent my whole life raising and protecting her. Now there's this chance to move to a different city. Maybe get a job, learn more, do something different!" As she spoke, her words came quicker and quicker, tumbling out in her excitement.
"Is that crazy?" She asked. "Is it crazy to let him help me move to another city? I don't want to owe him anything. He seems so kind and genuine."
Simon felt a pang but kept silent. Roger was, of course, about as not-douchey as a politician could get. It was what made trying to pin so many different things on him difficult.
"You wouldn't owe him. Think about it from his perspective-- he found out he was an absent father. He's also got more money than he can spend in a lifetime. So I imagine spending some on getting to know his daughter and you is one of the few ways he knows how to say he's sorry."
And wasn't that the kicker? Here Simon was, the person Roger had betrayed so long ago, defending the fucker. Damn, life takes you to unexpected places. The salt on the wound was; Simon knew what he was saying was true. Roger might be doing the favor Simon had asked for, but it sounds like something he would have done anyway. He was just that sort of guy.
Roger the good guy. Simon the very, very bad guy. The spy. The stalker. The murderer.
What a kick in the balls.
"Also," he said, trying to distract himself from his dark thoughts, "I live in DC most of the year. We'd be close if you moved. If--if you wanted to keep seeing me."
Her hands sought his across the table. When she grabbed his, hers were warm and soft, her delicate fingers lacing easily through his larger ones. He fought the urge to tremble at her touch. How could a woman make him feel so weak, and yet feel stronger and more certain than ever before?
"I'd like to keep seeing you, Simon. This feels... well, I haven't felt this giddy in a long time."
I haven't felt this disarmed--ever. He wanted so badly to say this to her. To gush. To whisk her away on the adventures that she craved.
But the shackles on his feet were real, and until he cleaned up his mess, this was the most he could hope for.
"So let him help you move," he advised, feeling elated and horrified at once.
Chapter Eight
How compatible was Jessica with Simon?
One hundred and fifty fucking percent, he thought as he looked at his handiwork. She was groaning in frustration and moaning in pleasure at his feet.
One of the tricks he'd picked up in training was knots. He really, really liked tying people up.
Jessica was bound on the floor, her arms tied behind her back, tiny knots looping the rope across forearms. Her knees and legs were bound in the same way, the long, single rope threaded artfully through and around limbs and pale flesh. All of the knots were slip knots but one-- the large, hard knot between her legs. As she arched and struggled against her bindings, that deliciously cruel knot worked its way through her swollen, sopping folds. He'd placed it perfectly, and was now admiring its ruthless pressure on her clit.
"Would you like out, love?" He crooned, the cat that’d caught his mouse.
She grunted, nodding her head and trying hard not to pull her bindings even tighter.
"You'll have to earn it then." He unzipped his pants and released his earnest cock. It sprang forward, heavy and hard. He knelt in front of her, angling it for her mouth.
She smiled, a twinkle in her eye, before she opened wide. Oh, what a delightful, burning lust she created in him. Jessica had never experienced true submission before, but came to it naturally. Of course, she wasn't exactly a true submissive-- she was willful and bratty and challenging. It was the perfect storm for him, the defiance creating the challenge for him and the final subservience all the sweeter.
He might not be able to take her to exotic places yet, but he could push her body in ways it had never been pushed, wherever they were. He could make her come, and come again. And he'd relish every time she did.
He slid his cock into her delectable mouth and sighed as her tongue began to swirl over his sensitive head.
As she sucked, he took in their surroundings. Posh hotel in D.C., the Jefferson. Roger was paying for a suite while Jessica tried to sell her Richmond apartment and find a new home in the area. Paige had been sending Jessica listings, but they were all for three or four bedroom homes.
"What would I need all of that space for?" Jessica had asked. Not to mention the price-- she was determined to pay for the home on her own, only allowing Roger to cover her time in the hotel.
A clever twist of her tongue sent all those thoughts from his head. Simon felt the churning sensation that signaled he was going to come. His fingers slipped through her hair and he quickened his thrusts. As he orgasmed with a shout, she lapped up his come, sending tremors of pleasure down his spine.
When his pleasure ebbed, he slowly released her bonds. Her sighs of pain and pleasure as the use of her limbs returned warmed him. He rubbed her arms and legs to bring circulation and feeling back to them.
"I earned my freedom, then, did I?" She joked but her voice was still thick with need and desire.
"That and more," Simon said fondly before dipping between her thighs and giving her the much-needed relief she craved. She came hard, her thighs anchoring his mouth at the apex of her legs until she was finished.
They collapsed on the hotel bed together, sweating and sated.
"I haven't fucked liked this since--" she started. Simon's eyes narrowed to slits. He didn't want to know who had fucked her, ever, and he did not like the thought that someone fucked like he did, and as soon as she said that name he was going to kill the asshole, and-- "since ever, she sighed.
Everything released again. He really, really needed to work on this jealousy issue.
They fell asleep, Simon already regretting a morning that hadn't happened yet, knowing the hard, dangerous work began in earnest then. If he could only stay here, wrapped up in her legs forever--
He slept and didn't dream.
~ ~ ~ ~
Normally an early waker, he was surprised to find that she was gone when he rose. It was already mid-morning. He saw the remains of room service and a hastily penned note.
Paige finally sent some houses that are up my alley. Going to look at them and didn't want to wake you. Have some breakfast and go to work! Call me later.
He didn't approve of waking without her or without a goodbye, but he did approve of ordering expensive room service on Roger's dime. He ate the eggs and bacon quickly and then headed to the bathroom.
He hadn't shaved in a while and, though he liked his face with the beard, he was pretty sure Walter's clients were good ol' boys who wanted a clean face. He didn't have a razor, though, so he went back out to call down and have the front desk bring him one.
That was when he heard the door handle jiggling.
Someone was trying to enter withou
t a keycard. If it was Jess, she'd just call to him through the door. Instincts went into hyper drive and he dove into a closet, leaving the door cracked. Another minute went by and in came a familiar face-- Jack. Jack was sort of like Simon. They'd trained together and Walter had even sent Jack to make sure he'd killed Paige.
Paige had done some brilliant acting, appearing dead while Simon had tried to get Jack out of the house. He'd been preparing to kill him, though, had he not fallen for the ruse.
What the fuck was he doing in Jessica’s hotel room?
Simon's eyes never left Jack as the man went to the television and checked something small. Then he went over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out and testing a small microphone. Finally, he pulled a baggie of fine powder from his coat and looked at Jessica's stainless steel water bottle. Without hesitation, he opened the baggie and the bottle, and dumped the contents into it.
Motherfucker.
As soon as Jack's back was turned, Simon leaped out of the closet and tackled the man. This wasn't like his fistfight with Roger. Roger had surprised Simon with his speed and the force of his hits, but it was a pale comparison to the battle he was engaged in now. Jack was trained in hand to hand, just like Simon. He knew how to fight in tight quarters like hallways and hotel rooms.
Punches were tight jabs, aimed for maximum pain and impact. That meant bridge of the nose or the place where the jaw met the ear to stun. Knuckles to the throat. Knees to the solar plexus. Feet stamping at knee caps. Many men were loud with their fighting, using noise for intimidation and motivation. Not these two. The only sounds were the slaps of impact when fists or foot made contact and the occasional grunt of pain.
It seemed like Jack might get the upper hand. Simon wasn't dressed in anything but boxers, making him far more susceptible to the harder hits. He was also tired from marathon sex with Jessica, He never thought he'd regret that, but he was regretting not being well rested for this fight. That was when he remembered the rope he'd used to tie her up-- it had been stuffed under the bed.
The Corrupt Trilogy Page 25