Reed

by Mariska Hutchence

  Not a word has been spoken since he showed up at my doorway, yet the communication is there, in our eyes. The weight of Reed on top of me is making it hard for me to breathe, but there’s no need. I can’t seem to make a sound and I’m not sure that I could if I tried. My mind is going a million miles a second, but all the thoughts surround this very moment, the pleasure inside of me, both between my legs and in my heart. As if the moment wasn’t profound enough, he starts to move in me, slow at first, then building a rhythm that makes me want to close my eyes in bliss, but I’m not willing to relinquish the value and meaning in his stare.

  The feeling starts in my toes as a numbness. I curl them almost unconsciously as I cross my ankles behind him adding to the force in which he is pressing down on my body, over and over in delicious cacophony of sensation. I know that he’s going to push me over the edge, but there’s something more, something I’ve never felt before and it’s distracting me despite itself. I can hear the rapping of the cheap headboard against the wall but there’s no shame. It’s the middle of the afternoon and hopefully no one hears, but I’m not about to stop him as I feel myself hanging precariously over the precipice.

  Reed’s eyes change, the look of passion replaced with one of hunger and I know that he’s close as well. I want him; need him inside of me, every single bit of him. The pleasure that suddenly hits me is unsuspected and I realize that the sound filling the room, aside from the sound our bodies are making, is coming from my mouth. I’ve never been all that vocal but this is escaping me like something that’s been bound in the dark for way to long; a wild animal eager to be free. I feel him trying to withdraw from me, but he’s unable to escape the tight grip of my ankles. All of you, I think to myself the moment my own ecstasy brings about his own. I can feel his body pumping inside of me as he grows still, even his breathing cut off in his own moment of bliss.

  Finally, as his face buries itself in my shoulder and I can feel the stubble on his gorgeous chin, I allow my eyes to close, my arms lazily wandering up and wrapping around that broad, strong back. Mine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tuesday Night – Reed

  “So you think he tracked you on your phone somehow?” I ask, brushing Des’ curls out of my face as she roots deeper into my shoulder. We’re in a new room. After our wordless introduction of this afternoon, a brief conversation had brought us to check her out and stay at another hotel. We still haven’t talked a lot. The new room had been christened with our residual passion and I’m just trying to get us talking again, although so far there really hasn’t been much need.

  “Yeah. The factory reset should have worked if he installed any apps. I don’t think the phone itself is being traced.” Des says, her finger lazily tracing its way across my chest.

  “I’m sorry if that was rough for you.” I say, softly, not knowing how to really express my feelings about what I had witnessed in words. “It wasn’t my plan to upend your life like this, you know.”

  Her palm swats down gently, playfully, on my chest and she comes up to an elbow, those eyes and that mop of curls conspiring to make me powerless to resist her. “Yeah, I’m not going to give you that much credit, Reed Calhoun.” She says, smiling. “I made my choice, just as you made yours that day at your house. If you love something, set it free.”

  She echoes my words back to me and it moves me deeply. “I love you, Des.” I think it surprises her as much as it does me. Yes, the emotions are there but they usually take a long time to convince my brain to put them out in the open. Those sweet lips come down on my own and I’m swept away by her presence once again, but it doesn’t escape me that those three words aren’t echoed back to me, even though they could be implied by the other.

  “Well, we’ve got the day, at least.” She says, those eyes hovering above mine. “What shall we do?”

  I look at her, giving her smile back. “Well, I’d rather not anything too public, so the mall is probably out.”

  She smiles. God, I love that smile.

  “So it’s room service and bad television for the day.” She says, resting her head back down on my shoulder.

  “Well, I’m sure we can find some way to keep busy.” I say, finding one of her cute little nipples and giving it a playful pinch. Surprised to say the least, I suddenly find myself with my arms pinned over my head, the lithe redheaded FBI agent straddling me and I realize she’s a whole hell of a lot stronger than I gave her credit for. It doesn’t take me long to reevaluate my thoughts of being able to overpower her smaller form back when she was staying in my basement.

  “Shit.” I say, grinning up at her. “You don’t know how fucking sexy that just was.”

  Des laughs out loud, her grip on my wrists still firm as I finally start processing the feeling of her beautiful body against my naked flesh. She throws a glance over her shoulder for show. “Oh, I think I’m starting to get the idea.” She spreads her knees a little wider and I can feel more of her flesh come in contact with mine, especially where she’s breathing new life into me. Those hips undulate gently, her body stroking mine gently as her eyes stay locked with mine.

  “This time I’m in charge.” She whispers. I can feel her wetness rubbing against my fully revived shaft and it’s absolutely driving me wild. I suddenly can’t decide if she’s alluding to right this moment or referencing the way that we met. A vision comes to me, trying to answer that tired relationship question. “So how did you two meet?”

  “Don’t move.” She admonishes me, tentatively releasing one of my wrists as she reaches between our bodies. Questions from strangers and friends vanish from my head as I feel myself slipping once again into the tight heat of her body.

  “I wouldn’t think about it, Special Agent Desjardins.” I laugh, realizing it’s one of the first times I’ve ever said it. “Damn, that is a mouthful.” I say as I feel her grinding her body against mine.

  “Quiet, Calhoun.” She says, a wink in those gorgeous green eyes. Her hand returns to my wrist and she starts slowly working herself up and down on me, the tight grip her body has on me driving me crazy with lust. “Just relax and let the system work for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I say, as if there was any fight in me against what she was doing to me. For me? With me?

  “You know I fantasized about you that very first day.” She says as she’s slowly and sensually fucking me. “I knew it was wrong, but something about the situation sparked it.” Her words are adding to the overall pleasure of the moment, but I choose to keep silent; partially because I want to hear her talk, but partially because I want to let her be in control. The time we spent together taught me that about her, at least. Sometime she needs to feel like she’s in control, whether the reality of that works or not. “But when I woke up and you were caring for me, it went from lust to something else. I fought that too, but you just fucking kept it going, breaking me down.”

  She’s moving faster and faster now, her words still remarkably measured despite the physical exertion she must be putting out. I know that I’m not going to last much longer, but so far, despite my efforts, she hasn’t let me not explode inside of her. I want to take her over the edge with me, but my movements are limited and it seems like I’m just along for the ride. I want to run my hands along her beautiful side, tracing those willowy curves; but even in that I’m not in control, nor do I really want to be. I want her to have everything that I can give her, and I’m not going to hold back.

  Des seems to be in her own world, and I simply watch her above me, marveling at her. Not a single bit of her, but her as a whole. There’s just something about her that calls to me, both on a physical and emotional level. I want to warn her that she’s about to take me over the edge, but I don’t want to mar the moment with words, so I let her know, telling her non-verbally. I see the satisfied look in those eyes that sucked me in from the very first day that I met her, and I know she understands. Two more rolls of those beautiful white hips and I feel her come down, burying me as deep as po
ssible within her as I explode. Her lips come down on mine as I’m still pumping into her, tasting her sweet tongue in my mouth as she takes me hungrily.

  ___

  We’ve been lying together again; wordlessly as usual, when she finally breaks the silence that is so comfortable only the ending of it is jarring.

  “At some point we have to decide where we go from here, Reed.”

  Shit, her last words at the field office. I admit to my cluelessness, uneasily.

  “Panajachel.” She says, laughing. “You went on and on about it.”

  I laugh. “Well, it was either that or Dearborn, Michigan. I seem to be having a passport problem, though. It was back in my house when you they hauled me in.”

  Des looks at me like she’s done me wrong. “I’m sorry about that, Reed. I had no way of telling you that they were monitoring the place after they searched it.”

  I brush the curls out of her eyes and I can see by her look that they’re annoying her much more than they are me. Apparently, I’m one of the few people in her life that has seen this natural state; as she normally straightens it as a rule. “You had a job to do, Des. I understand that.”

  “You have more of a problem than that.” She says. “You’re on the no-fly list and you’ll be stopped leaving the country.”

  That sinks in. “Well, I guess I’m fucked. The last thing I want is to drag you down with me.”

  “I’m already down with you…but you didn’t drag me here.” She says, sweetly, kissing me gently on the chest. “I’ve got some ideas, though. Are you able to get out of the country without it?”

  “That was actually the plan. Through Sault Saint. Marie.” I say, giving her a few details of how it would work.

  “If you can do that, I can try to work on my end of the deal, but it means I’ll have to go back to work.”

  “I don’t want to lose you again, Des.” I say.

  She looks over at me, turning to her side. “You’re not going to lose me, Reed. Believe that.”

  Her confidence actually buoys me, even while her internal strength intimidates me. Life is funny like that. I watch her rise, stretching out those beautiful long arms, her pale skin and freckles glowing in the light. “God, you’re beautiful.” I say, knowing how cheesy it sounds. I can’t help myself.

  “Sometimes I wonder about your judgement, Reed.” She says. “I’m going to hop in the shower if you want to join me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Wednesday Morning – Des

  Leaving Reed was bittersweet and as I’m driving back to Milwaukee I’ve had some time to think about it. It seems like my brain just put everything else on hold for the brief time we were able to spend together. I love him. Why I didn’t say those exact words, I don’t know, but that’s been one of the recurring thoughts as the sun rises over this new day; the first day. It really seems typical of me that I can’t go the path of least resistance with someone like Clark and that’s the other major topic of thought. High school had been where I first started noticing that the trajectory of my life wasn’t going to go in the direction of the few friends that I had. Even the science geeks I hung out with, myself included, were more materialistic than anything else. Several of my teachers had wrung their hands over trying in vain to guide me towards a STEM career; research, mathematics, engineering. None had incited any passion in me. There had been a minute there where I almost joined the military, but they ended up not being able to offer me the potential for simple excitement that the Bureau had been able to convince me to expect from my service there. My recruiter was shaking his head when I told him of my decision, and I could see the hope of catching a high ASVAB scorer dwindling in his eyes.

  Apparently, looking back at it, I’ve pushed away from the norms in my choice in guys as well. Hell, I’m an intelligent woman. Stability and conformity should have been high on my list of commendable personality traits, but unfortunately, they never were. I was more interested in the excitement. No, not necessarily the ‘bad boys’, but that could have been that as the gangly, geeky redhead with little in the way of hips and boobs they were as interested in me as I had been in guys like Clark at the time. I even lost my virginity between my senior year of high school and college; to a guy I saw a grand total of one time afterwards. It had been exciting, though.

  Dating? I wasn’t the dating type either, apparently. Not really that I didn’t want to, it just seemed at the time that I was too picky. In reality, it was that the boys I was interested in didn’t return the sentiment.

  Reed Calhoun was the last person in the world that I should have fallen in love with. My mind floods quickly with his face, those dazzling eyes…then that body, and I reject that notion. He’s exactly what I was looking for my entire life, it just took me realizing that maybe I needed to take the same bold chances at love I had been proud of myself for in my career choice. The funny thing was that I had denied the feelings that were building in me, until that one moment of clarity; the moment he let me go.

  Some of this reflection is a way of avoiding thinking about what I’m planning to do. Avoiding thinking about what I’m going to say to Cisneros. Facing his anger isn’t what’s stopping me, though. Somehow it’s my habit of self-sabotage when it comes to love. It’s easier to say it wouldn’t have worked out anyway than to put everything on the line and fail.

  ___

  “Des, how are you doing?” Cisneros asks as the call connects. Well, at least some part of my subconscious is pulling for me, because I don’t precisely remember dialing him.

  “I’m good, Chief Cisneros.” I say, trying to hide the weariness from my voice. “I’d like to talk with you today if that works.”

  There’s a brief pause on the other end. “Call me Alex, Des. You’re part of the team. I can talk anytime.”

  “I appreciate that, Alex.” I say, my mind trying to put together my thoughts rapid-fire with no preparation. It’s apparently how I work best. “I just want to get back into the swing of things. I’m not really built for vacations.”

  Cisneros chuckles on the other end. “If any of us were, we probably wouldn’t be in the Bureau.” He says. I can hear the warmth in his voice. “I think you still need some more time off, but I’m willing to let you try to convince me.”

  I push Reed to the back of my mind so I can finish the conversation. “I’ll probably swing by late in the morning if that works.”

  “Perfect Des.” Cisneros says, but I sense a little distraction in his tone. “Looking forward to it.”

  I disconnect the call. Neither Cisneros nor I have ever been the ‘goodbye’ type in the past and today doesn’t feel any different. It is different, though. I’m different, I just need to figure out how to accept that; and exactly what that means.

  The rest of the drive is occupied with thoughts of Reed. We’re sitting on the couch eating pizza and watching a movie. I laugh at the road thinking of the vision that had made. Less of a kidnapping and more of a ‘Netflix and chill’ moment, at least where ‘chill’ means what it’s supposed to mean. After the fiasco I had admittedly caused with the collapse of the ceiling in the basement, my view of him had started to change, and so had his treatment of me. At first, my training wanted me to use his kind nature against him, and I’ll admit that I gave it a shot, but there was a simple pleasure in the days I spent there that grew on me quickly. I put it off to stress. For the first time in my life I really had no responsibilities and someone else was effectively taking care of my every need. Well, except for freedom. When he granted me that, everything else clicked into place. I had been discounting the feelings growing inside of me because Reed was ‘the bad guy’. The label itself prevented me from seeing the rest of his attributes and I finally realized that it was imposing an unfair hard limit.

  ___

  I pull into the field office shortly after I get off the Interstate. There’s no point in going home, not that I really have one anymore. I know I have to face closing out that chapter, but I’m going to proc
rastinate on it as long as I can. Unfortunately, I know how long that is, and it doesn’t seem like enough time.

  “Hey, Des.” The agent on duty at the front desk says. Dawkins. A nice guy, but way too much like the male version of me for comfort. We came to the office around the same time, and he’s just as competitive and driven as I am. Was. I’m driven, but my priorities have changed recently.

  “Hey Dawkins.” I say. “Cisneros in?”

  “Yeah, he’s not in the best mood, so heads-up.”

  “Really, he seemed fine when I talked to him an hour ago. Big trouble in little China?”

  The joke falls flat. I can see it in his expression. “I think it has something to do with the syndicate case.” Dawkins says. Reed’s case.

  “Well, I’ll see what I can do.” I say, smiling at the dour-faced agent. I realize that it’s actually a genuine smile, something I don’t usually give out easily. Maybe that’s a change for the better as well?

  I follow the painted cinderblock walls around to Cisneros’ office, my mind for the first time dwelling on just how drab and boring the field office actually is. It’s a stray thought, and I dismiss it as I knock on the door, peering in through the blinds on the sliver of glass next to the door. He’s sitting at the desk and looks up. The analyst in me notes that the warm smile isn’t exactly immediate. He tilts his graying had up, encouraging me to come in.