A Dangerous Liaison
Part 3
PUBLISHED BY:
Melanie Brooks
Copyright © 2015
www.melaniebrooks01.blogspot.co.uk
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied or reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Chapter 1
Petra
“Careful you don’t break something,” I said, grinning impishly at Alec, as he picked me up.
“No problem,” he grinned back, cupping my buttocks in his strong, calloused hands and hoisting me up a few inches. “I’m highly trained.”
I hooked my legs tighter around his waist, and raked my fingers through his wiry hair. Then I grabbed the back of his head, pulled him toward me and kissed him hard on the lips. He tasted salty.
He kissed me back, digging his fingers into my ass as he did, and making me groan slightly. When he pushed his tongue into my mouth I nipped it playfully with my teeth.
Alec jerked and pulled his head back.
“Hey,” he said drawing his eyebrows together, but with the corners of his mouth still upturned.
For a moment I thought I’d upset him. Then his frown disappeared, and he slapped my ass and threw me onto the bed. I bounced up and down on the creaky springs, laughing so much my eyes watered.
He stood naked beside the bed, with his hands on his hips, watching me for a long moment. My eyes ran over the hard lines of his chest and abs, to his cock. I felt myself flush. I was suddenly aware of my heart thumping.
I wanted him now.
Alec cleared his throat.
“God, you’re sexy.” His voice was husky. His cock was half-erect, and already big. I’d never really looked at it like this before – at a distance. I wondered how much bigger it would be when it was fully erect.
Not taking my eyes off his body, I kneeled on the bed in front of him, and put my hands on my head.
“So you like what you see?”
His cock twitched.
“I don’t think that needs an answer.”
As if he couldn’t wait any longer he slid onto the bed beside me, pushed me back and straddled me. His powerful thigh muscles contracted against my legs. He leaned forward and placed one hand either side of my head. His cock brushed against the top of my legs. It was stiff and hard now.
I flushed again. My breath was short.
I didn’t just want him. I needed him.
He looked down at me. His eyes were bright blue; the fatigue and pain had gone, as had the strain lines around his eyes and mouth. His skin was smooth – almost shiny. He lifted one hand and ran a finger down my neck and chest, and gently pinched my nipple between his index finger and thumb. It sprung up embarrassingly quickly. My lips parted, and a shiver ran from my neck to the tip of my tailbone.
He leaned closer, nibbling on my ear. I could feel his weight pressing down on me. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to.
“I’m going to make love to you.”
I shivered again, and traced the line of his biceps, up to his shoulder, my body buzzing from head to toe. He leaned down, put one hand under my chin lifting my head to face him, and kissed me hungrily. I pushed my lips against his, as if I were trying to suck the air from him.
I yearned for him inside me.
He broke away and ran his tongue down my neck and chest, over my belly. Then he circled around my belly button, making my tummy muscles quiver. Eventually he moved down, licking and kissing my lower belly and mound. When he reached my sex, I arched my back and opened my mouth in a silent scream.
I’d never wanted a man so much as now.
But Alec seemed to have other ideas. He played his tongue back and forth over my clit, sending bursts of ecstasy through my body. I reached down and grabbed two handfuls of his hair, pulling him onto me.
My clit throbbed under his tongue. It was almost too much to bear. Why couldn’t he take me now?
Alec pushed my legs further apart, and licked my upper thigh in small circular movements. My thigh muscles trembled like those in my tummy had done. I arched my back and bit my lip, grabbing a handful of sheets with each hand.
I tried to focus on the feel of the cotton sheets in my hand, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming sensations between my legs.
After what seemed like forever he traced his tongue back up toward my sex, still teasing me with small flicking movements. When the tip of his tongue touched me, I bucked my hips and screamed, but before I climaxed he pulled away. I groaned deeply.
Then Alec slid his body up over mine, brushing my nipples with his chest. He drew level with my face, and our eyes met. As they did I felt like we were one, linked by a bond past my understanding. It was so intense, so overwhelming it scared me.
When he entered me I gasped again. He was almost too big. I balled up the sheets in my hands. He started slowly, making me gasp afresh with each stroke. Each time he pushed into me sparks of pure pleasure seemed to shoot up from between my legs. As the sensations grew stronger I wrapped my arms around him and dug my fingers into his back, feeling his powerful muscles pulse with each thrust.
After a while I tipped my head back and cried out.
Then it seemed as if the room was filled with a white light that held both of us for a second. It was almost unbearably bright. As the light reached its peak I felt him pulse inside me and felt his heat. Then a wave of release like I’d never felt before washed from between my legs through my whole body.
Chapter 2
Alec
I stepped out of my apartment building onto Pantheon Square, a goofy ear-to-ear grin on my face, and a buzz running through my body. The sun had risen above the enormous Pantheon temple which dominated the square. Its rays were already melting the layer of frost that had formed on the cobbles overnight. And the cafés were filling up with coffee drinkers wanting their early morning fix.
I took a deep breath in – enjoying the chill morning air – then let it out slowly. I hadn’t felt so good in years. Maybe not ever. I thought of Petra and what we had shared together and smiled again – my face starting to ache. Smiling wasn’t something I did a lot of.
Massaging my cheeks ruefully, I headed to the nearest café. Petra had wanted to have breakfast in the room. She’d said it was too dangerous to go out, with Feds everywhere. But I’d insisted. I’d felt for once as if nothing could go wrong.
I smiled that big goofy ear-to-ear smile again, sure I must look like a retard. But I couldn’t help myself. Right now, no problem was too big. I’d figure out what was causing these visions, and who was behind the killings. And maybe later Petra and I might…
My phone buzzed.
I stopped dead, my mood suddenly darker.
Who the hell is ringing me?
I’d never liked being traceable, so I always used a pay-as-you-go cell. Every two to three weeks I dumped it and bought another. I got this one, a cheap plastic Motorola, from a newsagent near St. Peter’s a few days ago. No one else had the number.
The phone buzzed again. Insistent. Ominous.
I blew out a breath. I wanted to ignore it because my gut told me when I took the call my moment of happiness would be over. But I also knew I had to answer it.
The phone buzzed for the third time.
“Dammit.”
A few people sitting outside the nearest café looked up. Cursing, I pulled the cell out of my jeans pocket and stared at it. It buzzed again, an irr
itating tinny sound. The screen said number unknown.
A cold ball of fear formed in my stomach. I knew who it was, didn’t I? Not in my conscious mind but in the deeper, more primitive unconscious. I knew and I was scared. But for some reason I didn’t understand I felt a compulsion to take the call. My thumb hovered over the answer button. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved it. It felt impossibly heavy, like an invisible force was pushing down on it.
An old woman sitting outside the café looked up from her morning espresso, a frown on her face.
I couldn’t put it off any longer. I relaxed my thumb and watched it press heavily on the answer button. Then, sweating despite the cool air, I shoved the phone up against my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Joshua – It’s been a long time.”
As soon as I heard the word Joshua I felt like a great black hole had opened up in front of me and some irresistible force was dragging me in. The café, the old woman, the people in the square all faded into the background. I should have been scared but I was oddly relaxed. The muscles of my face and shoulders were slack. My breathing was slow and regular, and I had a feeling that everything would be okay. All I had to do was let go, and give in to the voice.
“Joshua, you are Joshua.”
It was the voice on the phone again. Deep and calm. Familiar.
I let out a long slow breath. The square was a distant memory now. I knew I was still standing there, with the phone pressed to my ear. Maybe the old woman had called one of the waiters to move me on. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All that mattered was the voice and the name Joshua, my name.
I blew out another long breath.
“Joshua – this is a priority one command. Reset.”
A switch in my mind clicked. There was a brief moment of vertigo, then it seemed as if the blackness was inside me. Inside my mind. My muscles were still slack, as if my body was telling me everything was okay. But suddenly I knew that was a lie. Things were very far from okay.
I realized I had very little time. Soon my free will would be overridden by instructions that had been placed in my unconscious mind years ago. Already I could feel subtle changes in my thinking.
I stood motionless in the square, the muscles of my face slack, my arms limp by my sides, losing control of my mind. From the outside I would have looked docile but inside I was frantically trying to work out how to save my identity before it was too late. I thought back to Special Forces training, hoping for an answer. But the SAS had taught me to fight real enemies – not phantoms in my head.
Then I remembered Petra. She was still in my apartment waiting for me. But I wasn’t going back, was I? Because in a few minutes I wouldn’t care what happened to her.
I felt my jaw clench tight.
No! Fucking no. I wouldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t.
Then the voice spoke again. Familiar and comforting.
“Joshua, it’s good to have you back. I thought we’d lost you.”
There was a pause. I thought I heard a sharp inhalation, then the voice was back.
“Listen carefully, Joshua, I have an important job for you.”
Chapter 3
A Man in a Café
I ended the call, put the phone back on the table in front of me, and waved to the camp waiter for another coffee. A few minutes later he minced over with a tiny cup of oily black liquid. He placed it on the table with an elaborate flourish, then walked back to his position near the bar.
I took a sip of the coffee, enjoying its bitter taste and the kick it gave me, then put the cup back on the table, and blew out a long breath through my nose.
The call with Reader had gone better than I’d hoped. After all these years he still remembered his code name, Joshua. I could tell by the subtle change in his voice, as if the top and bottom had been cut off his vocal range. He sounded like an automaton, which was exactly what I wanted.
I picked up a half-smoked cigarette from an ashtray on the table, put it between my lips and inhaled deeply. Then I blew out the smoke, watching it plume up in front of me and drift away.
Alec had been our most talented subject, but his training had still taken two long years. We’d tried, but had never found a short cut. That’s why ten years ago the government took his disappearance so badly. Replacing him would take years – if another Alec could even be found.
But by then I didn’t give a damn about the government’s interests. I had been fully signed up to the project, but that all changed the day Alec Reader took everything from me. The day he killed my father.
My lips drew into a tight line. Even after all this time I couldn’t control the rage. I felt the first stirrings of it in my guts and pushed it down. I couldn’t afford to lose control now. Later. There’d be time for that later. But for now I needed a clear head.
I dropped the cigarette butt into the glass ashtray and pulled another from the Marlboro pack next to the coffee. Then I lit it, put it between my lips, and took a long hard draw. I’d given up for ten years but when Reader turned up a few months ago, I took up the damn habit again. It was killing me but what the hell. I took another sip of my coffee, feeling myself calm down a little.
I was sitting outside the Pope John Paul II café on Tortellini Street. It was lunchtime and packed. Smart waiters, their chests puffed out like proud peacocks, strutted and hustled from table to table. The smell of black, rich coffee was everywhere.
Reader had taken years to track down, and when the son of a bitch had turned up he’d threatened to ruin my plans for payback by saving the other targets. But then I’d had my moment of inspiration. Reader would do my job for me. He’d kill the others. That’s what he had been trained for, after all. And when he’d finished I’d kill him and take Petra. An abrupt laugh burst out of my mouth. I had to fight to stop myself breaking into a belly laugh.
It was true what they said. Revenge was best served fucking cold. But I still had to be patient. Patient and careful. Reader was dangerous, as was the link between him and Petra.
I checked my watch. 10 a.m. He should be finished by now. Time to get back to work.
I raised my hand to call for the bill. The waiter came over, picked up my American Express Card from the table, slid it through a portable card reader, and handed it back to me.
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper,” he said.
I took the card from him and slipped in back in my wallet next to my FBI badge.
Chapter 4
Alec
I flinched and took a sharp breath in. I was standing in the middle of a narrow road lined with medieval terraced houses jammed up tight against each other. The dome of St. Peter’s Cathedral loomed over them.
What the hell?
Part of my mind noticed the sun was lower and cooler.
How the hell did I get here?
“Help me,” gasped a weak voice from the ground.
I snapped my head down and froze.
A woman lay at my feet, flat on her back on the tarmac, her chest heaving like a bellows. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and a suit jacket that had been gray. Only now the lower half of the jacket was stained red. And around her middle was a pool of blood, like a red oil slick.
It was the woman from the train station. The woman I’d saved just hours ago.
My stomach clenched.
“Jesus Christ,” I said, my mouth suddenly very dry.
She opened her eyes.
“Please don’t.”
“What?”
The world seemed unsteady and unreal. The slick of blood around the woman spread out slowly until it washed up against my shoes.
“Don’t hurt me.” She stared at my arm, her eyes as wide as saucers. I followed her gaze and caught my breath.
My fingers were wrapped around the handle of a six-inch- long kitchen knife – the blade pointing towards the ground. Its serrated edge was red with blood, as were my fingers, my wrist and the cuff of my shirt. I dropped the knife like it was red hot. The steel bla
de rang out loud and clear, as it hit the hard road, and my bloodied arm fell loose by my side.
How?
“I have ... money.”
My head jerked back to her. Dark black shadows seemed to have appeared under her eyes in the last few seconds. Her skin was stark white, and slick with sweat. She was running out of time fast. I had to help her now.
I pulled out my phone and punched in 112: the Europe emergency services number. A female voice answered in Italian. Guessing she’d understand English, I said:
“A woman has been stabbed in the stomach, in Fabrezzi Street. She’s lost a lot of blood. Send an ambulance now.”
And before the operator could ask any awkward questions I ended the call and kneeled beside the dying woman.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I won’t hurt you.”
She moaned and raised her arms a few inches off the ground as if she was trying to fend me off. But after a couple of seconds her arms fell back to the ground.
She thinks you stabbed her, said a voice in my head.
Trying to ignore the voice, I opened the woman’s jacket.
It was worse than I’d thought.
From the belt on her pencil skirt to her left breast, her cream blouse was deep red. Reacting on instinct I put my hand over the center of the red stain. It was warm and sticky. I pushed down, hoping to get lucky and stop the bleeding, but her blood kept seeping over my fingers. I shifted my hand, pushing on different spots. But it made no difference. Wherever I pressed the bleeding continued.
I looked up at her face. Her eyes were cloudy now, distant –her breathing fast and shallow. She was out of time. I watched until the light went out of her eyes and her chest stopped moving. Then, as I stared at her limp body, a surge of fury raced through me. I balled my hands into fists, threw my head back and screamed.
“No!” My voice echoed down the deserted street.
After a few minutes I stood up. I looked from the bloodstained knife to the dead woman and back again, feeling numb.
A Dangerous Liaison - Part Three Page 1