The Decommission Agent

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The Decommission Agent Page 8

by Nash, Lisa


  “You have no idea how… big I was yesterday.”

  “You tell me then.”

  He thought about it briefly, and realized she was probably right, but he didn’t see how, and he wasn’t sure how something like that could go unnoticed by him. He was significantly bigger. “That’s not possible.”

  She opened the door to the club. “I’m a stripper. I know dicks. I know what makes them hard because it’s my business. Turn a guy on in the right way, and he’s bigger than he’s ever been before. Has something to do with blood flow, nitric oxide, blah, blah, blah. The point is a woman makes the right moves, she brings out the bigger dick. Trust me, I’ve got the moves down to a science. A guy gets a bigger dick, he throws more money on stage. Pays my mortgage and plastic surgeon. Synthetics do it without trying. Never like what that Cora’s done to you, though.”

  She placed one foot inside the club. “Need I remind you, sweetie, that you’re at a strip club with a hottie that wasn’t born. She doesn’t have parents. She was thought up and put together by a bunch of jerk off men scientists. You may want to rethink what’s possible.”

  “How do you know they were men?”

  “Because she’s a size two. A woman scientist would have made her at least a size eight.”

  Before he could say another word, she slipped inside the club.

  -18-

  The flames popped and crackled in the stone fireplace. Each time he added an item, whether it was a file or micro drive with data or photograph, the flames jumped higher and danced as they consumed the incriminating object. His special safe was nearly empty now. He should have gotten rid of the evidence a long time ago, but the information he was destroying didn’t just contain evidence of his crimes. It was evidence of the crimes of others as well. He’d found value in that fact. As long as he held confirmation of the misdeeds of others, he had control.

  As he watched his past being swallowed by the flames, he knew that he no longer had control.

  -19-

  They stood in the lobby of the Conway Towers Hotel before Thomas had fully collected himself. His mind was playing ping pong with his thoughts. One minute he fixated on the sensation of Cora straddling him in Sugar’s. The next minute he heard Monica’s voice in his head encouraging him to return Cora to be readjusted. And, just when he considered the possibility that the stripper might be right, his mind bounced back to the moment Cora shuddered and came on top of him. Her face lit up and her breath came out at a quickened pace. A ghost of smile accentuated the fire that burned in her bright blue eyes. Even feeling her collapse to his chest sent electricity through his body. She was perfect, he told himself. Monica was full of shit.

  “What are we doing here?” Thomas asked as if he had just come out of a deep sleep.

  “I live here,” she said.

  Thomas furrowed his brow. “You live in a hotel?”

  Her eyes moved from right to left quickly, almost too quickly to detect. She was subconsciously searching for facts, facts crammed into her head by the good people at Grant Bio-Syn. “My father insisted. He thinks it’s safer. I’m afraid he doesn’t like his daughter living in the big city all be herself. I came here to be independent, but he isn’t quite ready to let that happen.”

  “Your father?” Thomas craned his neck back to take in the massive lobby. The large archways, lavish decorations, and plush furniture suggested the hotel catered to an exclusive, upper crust clientele. “The university must pay well.”

  She smiled. “They should, but they don’t. My father pays for my room. I’m not proud of it, but to be frank, it’s fucking awesome living here. I just can’t say no.”

  A man dressed in a dark gray, perfectly tailored suit approached them. “Good evening, Miss Cora.”

  “Charles.”

  He handed her a shopping bag from the Intimate Chase. “A woman delivered this today.”

  Taking it and shaking her head she said, “Thank you. I can’t believe I forgot my clothes…” A smile popped up on her face and she placed her head against Thomas’ shoulder. “Then again, I guess a thing like that is bound to happen if you keep taking them off.”

  Thomas’ eyes opened wide at her gall. He wasn’t comfortable with a strange guy in a nice suit knowing they had been naked all over town. He tried to give Charles a look to indicate that she was just kidding.

  “How does this evening find you and your gentleman friend?” Charles asked.

  “It finds us behaving very badly, Charles,” Cora said grabbing Thomas’ hand. “But as it turns out, we behave badly so very well.”

  Charles’s cheeks turned red and he licked his lips. “I see,” he said stepping back and pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He wiped sweat from his brow.

  “Are you okay?” Thomas asked.

  Charles dabbed his forehead with the handkerchief. “I’m fine, thank you. Just feeling a little… overwhelmed.”

  Thomas saw the shaken man staring at Cora’s hand in his. He heard Monica’s voice in his head say, “You two are going to set this city on fire.” He turned to her and said, “I think we should go.”

  Cora nodded in agreement. “Good night, Charles.”

  “Good night, Miss Cora, Mr. Miller.”

  Thomas hesitated before following Cora to the elevator. He hadn’t told Charles his name. “You sure you’re all right?”

  Charles had already stopped sweating and his cheeks had returned to their normal hue. “Fine. I just felt a bit… odd for a moment, but it’s passed,” he said walking away.

  Joining Cora at the elevator, Thomas said, “He looks ill.”

  Cora looked over her shoulder at Charles standing near the entrance to the lobby. “Does he? I didn’t notice.”

  “You didn’t notice?”

  She grabbed his hand again. “I don’t really notice anything when you’re around.” She gave him a soft kiss.

  The elevator doors opened, and she quickly pulled Thomas inside. They continued their kiss as the door closed. After several seconds, he pulled away from her. “Shouldn’t we select a floor?”

  She smiled and tapped the penthouse button.

  “You live on the penthouse?”

  “No,” she said. “No one does. It’s the athletic center.”

  “Are we going to work out?”

  Smiling she grabbed his massive cock and said, “We certainly are.” She kissed him gently. “But first I feel like going for a swim. I still have Sugar’s all over me.”

  “Swim?”

  “Yes, swim. You know in a pool with water… can’t you swim, Mr. Miller?”

  “I can,” he said. “Traditionally, I’ve done it in a bathing suit.” He pulled back his jacket, revealing the lining. “Not this kind of suit.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Miller. I wouldn’t expect you to go swimming in that suit.” She squeezed his cock. “I expect you to go swimming in your birthday suit, like me.”

  Thomas shook his head and did his best to suppress his grin. “Oh no, I’m not getting nude in public again.”

  “Fine then you can watch me swim nude, Mr. Miller, because I’m getting wet. From head to toe. I will be dripping wet. Soaking wet.” She delivered the last line in a low, rich whisper in his ear.

  “You think you can talk me into anything, don’t you?” he asked.

  “I do,” she said. “And I can.”

  “Cora, you overestimate your hold over me.” He was lying, but it was a playful lie. If anything, she underestimated it.

  She pushed him against the elevator wall and pressed her body against his. “Fuck me, Mr. Miller.”

  “What?”

  “Fuck me! Here! Now!” Her tone was forceful and penetrating.

  Thomas pushed her back and pinned her against the opposite wall of the elevator. He grabbed her hands and raised them above her head. “You want me to fuck you?”

  “No,” she said frantically kissing and biting his lip. “I need you to fuck me.”

  He returned her f
rantic kissing. “How badly do you need it?”

  “I’m burning up for you, Mr. Miller. I need your cock inside of me. Put your cock inside of me, now!” She worked her right hand free and slapped him across the face. “Fuck me!” Her hand was rubbing his erection before he had a chance to recover from the slap.

  He smiled, released her other hand, grabbed hold of the top of her cami, and with one violent jerk, ripped the garment down the middle. Her tits popped free, and he bent down, latching onto her right nipple with his mouth and sucked.

  She moaned and screeched in ecstasy. “Take that huge cock out of your pants and fuck me, now!”

  He didn’t hear the ding, and he couldn’t even stop himself when the elevator door opened. But, Cora gently tapped him on the shoulder repeatedly until he released her nipple and pulled back.

  “What?!” He asked almost hyperventilating.

  “Let’s go swimming,” she said with a lively chuckle.

  Thomas turned to the opened elevator door and said, “Swimming?”

  “I just feel so… dirty.” The lively chuckle turned into a diabolical smile.

  Thomas stepped away. “Let’s go swimming.”

  -20-

  Minutes after it happened, the Senator received word that Reverend Cornelius Toland had put an antique Remington Colt 45 to his chin and pulled the trigger. The reverend’s wife found a note in her husband’s shirt pocket that read, “God forgive me for my sins and damn my friend Artie Trelow for the temptations I could not resist.”

  The Senator had spoken to the reverend a few hours before he killed himself. The man of God was in a panic. He was the recipient of a picture similar to the one Trelow had received, except his was of a nude man holding a picture of a public men’s room in the Washington D.C. area.

  The reverend’s wife demanded to know the meaning of the note. The Senator sighed and simply reminded her that her husband was the spiritual conscience of the nation, and she needed to devote her attention to protecting his legacy. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to know the contents of his suicide note.

  She demanded that the Senator address her question, but he simply delivered his condolences and hung up the phone. Sitting at his desk, he was almost relieved that at least one of the loose ends had been closed. The reverend was a public friend, but not a trusted friend. Senator Arthur Trelow had very few of those.

  He returned his attention to his lovely assistant who was swallowing the erection of the young man who had come by to give the Senator an estimate for lawn care.

  -21-

  As he watched her perfect naked form descend the submerged steps of the pool, he struggled not to grab his cock and stroke it until he unloaded. He stood on the side of the pool, with his clothes discarded on a chaise lounge chair behind him. He was hungry for her, eager to touch and explore every inch of her body.

  He dove into the deep end and darted toward her beneath the surface. He slowly emerged behind her. “I’m going to kiss your shoulder, Cora.”

  She didn’t turn, but he could sense her smile.

  Thomas gently kissed her soft skin just above her shoulder blade and continued kissing along the base of her neck. He reached down and extended her arm out of the water. “I’m going to devour you.”

  “You already have, Mr. Miller,” Cora said letting out a small moan and tilting her head back.

  Thomas planted gentle kisses from her shoulder to her finger tips and then maneuvered around her.

  “I…” she started to say, but stopped when Thomas put a finger to her lips.

  “My turn to tell you what I want.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I want to touch every inch of your body with my lips.” He kissed her between the eyes. “Your face.” He kissed her behind her ear. “Your neck.” He kissed the top of her breast. “Every inch of you.” He moved his hand underneath the water down to her lower back. “Most of all, I want to kiss your thighs, your inner thighs.”

  He pulled her in tight and could feel her heartbeat against his chest. “Those sweet, sweet inner thighs,” he said gently thrusting his cock against her lower abdomen.

  Her mouth hung slightly open. Warm swift breaths escaped as she listened to him describe where he wanted to kiss her. Without realizing it, she let out a faint moan with each exhale.

  The water babbled and gently undulated as they moved around the pool in a naked embrace.

  “Mr. Miller,” she said breaking the steamy silence that had enveloped them.

  “Yes, Cora.”

  “I think I love you.” She hugged him and buried her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her shake, and he held her tighter.

  “Are you crying?”

  She pulled back and revealed her red eyes and aching expression. “It’s just so intense.”

  He felt a lump in his throat and held back his own tears. Kissing her over and over again, he said, “I love you.”

  They heard the ding of the elevator and watched with some embarrassment as the door opened. They hurried to the side of the pool in an attempt to hide their nakedness, but Thomas stopped when he saw four people wearing HAZMAT suits and gas masks step off the elevator and approach them.

  “Mr. Miller,” the small one in the middle said. The voice was muffled by the mask, but he could tell it was Ms. Pope.

  “Thomas?” Cora looked at him quizzically. He couldn’t get over how sweet his name sounded coming out of her lips.

  Ms. Pope extended her hand. She was holding the clicker in her hand.

  “Stop!” Thomas shouted.

  The dour woman clicked the button on the device and Cora stood in the water motionless. Every ounce of emotion vacated her beautiful face.

  “What did you do?” Thomas said swimming to her.

  “I simply paused her,” Ms. Pope said looking at her watch. Turning to the others in HAZMAT suits, she said, “Give it 30 seconds, and it should be safe to remove the masks.”

  Thomas reached Cora and placed both hands on her face. “Cora! Cora!”

  “She won’t respond, Mr. Miller.”

  “Turn her back on!”

  “In due time,” She said removing a towel from a rack. “If you would be so kind as to extract yourself from the pool, my team needs to take a few samples.”

  “Samples?”

  She held out the towel over the edge of shallow end of the pool. “We’ve received some reports that there may be something amiss with this unit’s conditioning.”

  “There’s nothing amiss. She’s perfect. And stop calling her a unit!”

  “Mr. Miller, please.” She stood stoically with the towel hanging from her hand.

  He slapped the water and slowly approached her. As he climbed the stairs, she averted her eyes. “You said I had 72 hours.”

  “And you do. We won’t be long.”

  He took the towel from her and stepped up on the side of the pool. Wrapping it around his waist, he looked back at Cora and his heart nearly broke in two seeing her so lifeless. “Hurry up.”

  Ms. Pope removed her mask and breathed in deeply. She gave the thumbs up to the others. “Clear.”

  After removing their masks, two of the men ran to the side of the pool to attend to Cora. The other one joined Thomas and Ms. Pope. He jabbed Thomas’ finger with a white rectangular device that had one sharp needle point.

  Thomas yanked his hand away. “Hey.”

  “Sorry,” the man said. He pulled another device from his belt that looked like a small phone. Before Thomas could ask what he was doing, the man stuck the needle point of the smaller device into a port on the phone. “Everything’s fine here.”

  “Fine?” Ms. Pope asked.

  “I mean his testosterone levels are little high and the oxytocin is at levels I’ve never seen before. But nothing that would account for what Charles or that stripper said.”

  Ms. Pope looked at the other two. “What about the unit?”

  Thomas grimaced.

  “No, nothing out of the ordinary,” one sa
id.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. In fact, I’d recommend bringing her levels up. She’s just hovering a little over baseline levels.”

  Ms. Pope’s face hardened. “Someone want to explain to me how we got two separate reports of profusion residue?”

  The man standing next to Thomas shrugged and said, “I know Charles. He’s a horny little weasel. Wouldn’t trust him alone with my dog, if you know what I mean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I do, and I’d thank you to steer clear of those types of analogies in the future.”

  He looked down sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Could be a case of SSD,” one of the men kneeling down next to Cora said.

  “SSD?” Thomas asked.

  Ms. Miller explained. “Sometimes when someone witnesses a bio-synthetic and their match engage in a highly charged sexualized act, that person can inadvertently absorb a toxic level of the combined pheromone exchange because their own pheromone ID is so similar to the match and the unit . We call that synchronized spectator drift, but it’s rare. Rare enough that I’ve only seen it myself one time in fifteen years with the company.” She directed her next comment to the man who suggested the notion of spectator drift. “And we’ve never had a recorded case where it happened twice in one night. Statistically, it’s impossible.”

  The man shrugged. “Just throwing it out there.”

  The man next to him said, “I’m with Rusty on this one. Charles is a creep and a half, and the stripper just got horny as shit. No big mystery.”

  She considered the situation and then threw up her hands. “I’m convinced.”

  “Should we bring her levels up?” One of the men next to Cora asked.

  “I’ll leave that to, Mr. Miller,” Ms. Pope said.

  “What do you say, Mr. Miller?” The man asked. “Should we kick things up a notch or two.”

 

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