by Honey Jans
"The bracelet marks you as mine, sweetheart, and I've got a few other goodies that will set you aside from the other girls,” he murmured, pulling up in front of the gatehouse. Leaving the engine idling he turned to look at her. “You foul up and we both get the boot, and Perez slips through our fingers, so behave."
His concerned tone helped set her resolve. She was too good an agent to foul up. Bridget nodded, and opened her car door. Her bare feet touched the ground, and her toes curled into the warm white sand. She sighed, feeling the heat seep into her body, warming her, and giving her strength. She could do this.
Two uniformed attendants came out of the gatehouse. One look told her they moved with the fluid, aggressive stride of trained soldiers, and were discreetly armed to the teeth. Their Uzis blended in with their black slacks. The first to reach them was an older man with a silver flattop, who gave them a thorough, incisive once over. Bridget scanned the gold nametag on his black vest, Max. When he cracked a brittle smile and approached Condor, she sighed, relieved that they'd passed muster.
Bridget kept her focus on the other man, younger and swarthy with a ready, lascivious grin as he ogled her, looking for signs that they'd been made. The punk winked at her, leering, as he opened the trunk to get out their bags. His nametag read Ramón. Bridget pasted on a practiced flirtatious smile, fighting back her automatic hostile reaction to being leered at. They'd made it through the first hurdle. A glance at Condor's relaxed posture, as he tipped Flattop, reflected the same positive feeling. At least they were on the same wavelength there.
The light crunch of footsteps on the path told her someone was coming. A second later, a willowy blond babe came through the gateway with a clipboard in her hand. In her mid-thirties, her hair swept up in an elegant twist, and wearing a red sundress with matching sandals, the woman moved with a regal bearing that bespoke authority. Bridget noticed the attendants hop to it, moving quickly to finish their jobs. She was probably their boss. If so, her computer files could be ripe with useful information. Lucky for Condor, she was a whiz with electronics. She watched curiously, as the woman walked up to Condor, flicking a dismissive glance over her.
"Mr. Welch, I'm Lola Barilla, Social Director at The Retreat,” the blond said, flashing a gracious smile as she extended her hand.
"I'm enchanted to meet you, lovely Lola,” Condor said smoothly, taking her hand. “Please call me Jason. I'm glad to have finally made it, myself. A little trouble with my personal jet delayed our departure from Miami."
Bridget had to admire Condor's smooth, cultured delivery—not even a fluttering of his eyelids gave him away. She quickly memorized his cover, Jason Welch. Apparently, Lola bought it hook, line and sinker as she let out a little gasp of distress about the jet. Maybe there was something to be said for Condor's outdated methods after all. A glance at Lola's enamored expression, told her the woman was buying it, maybe a little too well.
Lola reached out to touch his arm. “If you'd like, one of our mechanics can look at it."
He leaned closer, smiling. “No thank you, Lola, I fixed it."
She smiled, her red tinted nails pressing into his sleeve. “A man who's good with his hands, how wonderful."
Condor chuckled. “I'm so glad."
Lola pulled out a platinum ID bracelet. “I'd like to tag you, sir,” she said with a smirk.
Condor grinned and held out his wrist. “Why do I suddenly feel like a submissive?"
"All our guests wear them, Jason. It's simply a safety precaution. You're at the platinum level."
"Meaning?"
"You get anything you want, sir,” she said, batting her eyes at him. “All you have to do is ask."
Bridget burned as the two flirted shamelessly in front of her. Delta must have shelled out some deep cash to afford this, but it would be worth it if they apprehended Perez. Condor's brand of macho sex appeal was steamy enough to melt an iceberg, and it obviously melted Lola, whose pale complexion actually grew flushed. It won't do you any good honey, but keep batting those baby blues at him. It might actually give me the break I need to do my job and prove myself to him as an agent.
As if reading her thoughts, Lola's censoring gaze turned to her. Bridget froze, knowing that true sexual submissives don't glare at their Doms and the floozies who flirt with them.
"She does understand the rules?” Lola asked, in a clipped voice.
"Of course,” Condor said, his eyes meeting Bridget's with impatience.
Burning, as his hot gaze went to her caftan and his brow quirked commandingly, Bridget knew she was failing, dangerously out of character. Crap. She didn't need a house to fall on her to get his unspoken message. It hadn't exactly slipped her mind that she was supposed to be nude, but she'd been too busy analyzing the scene to strip. Time to turn from agent to sex kitten.
Something inside her still balked at the idea, but she smiled and reached for the hem of her gown. If she wanted to get her man, she had to go through with this. Taking a deep breath, she pulled off the gown and dropped it on the sand, gazing boldly back at them.
"I know the rules, Lola. Viola, naked as a jaybird."
Condor went rigid, even though the hint of a smile ghosted his lips.
Lola scowled, her thin lips compressed in a firm line of disapproval, her ice blue eyes, narrowing.
Double crap! Love slaves were supposed to be demure, but Lola brought out her fighting instincts. Lowering her gaze in surrender, hoping she hadn't completely blown the mission, she murmured, “I'm sorry, sir, ma'am."
"Please excuse her, Miss Lola. I'm afraid I do tend to spoil her,” Condor said smoothly, adding in a firmer tone, “Rest assured, I'll paddle her ass if you'll overlook her outburst."
Spoil me! She bit her lip to stifle her automatic grumble. The ghost agent had been nothing but hard on her, except where she ached for his hardness. The man got off on keeping her horny. Bridget kept her gaze down, her body heating up at the prospect of another hot spanking, while Condor smoothed things over with the dragon lady. She was glad her long hair hid her blush, and her mutinous expression.
She felt Condor take a step her way, his scent, his solid presence seeming to envelop protectively around her naked form, exciting her. His big hand wrapped around her upper arm, and she knew he could feel her tremble. She couldn't hide her true feelings with him. He tugged her toward him in what was supposed to be a physical threat, but it felt more like foreplay. His fingertips gave her a slight squeeze of reassurance, making her smile.
"I'll take you to task for that behind closed doors, Kitten,” he promised in a husky tone of voice.
Bridget trembled, but not from fear, at his seductive tone. He was going to use a paddle. Yikes! How hot will it make me?
Lola stepped up to them. “Fine. I'll let you deal with her impertinence. Come with me, Jason, and I'll show you to your bungalow.” She linked her arm with his, edging Bridget aside.
Bridget stepped back, stifling a growl.
"I've assigned you Bungalow Twenty, which should give you plenty of privacy."
He smiled at her. “It was so very kind of you to get me in at the last minute. I understand that you're full up."
Lola scowled at Bridget. “We are, although we're still waiting for a few late arrivals. Lucky for you, I had a last minute cancellation, and could fit you in. We like to cater to a man with your impeccable connections."
Bridget trailed after them, nude and resentful, as they went through the main gate. The late arrival might be Perez's party. He'd certainly want to survey the scene before entering.
* * * *
Walking naked in the sunshine was shocking, and sensual, all at the same time. The breeze stirred the hair hanging down her back, and tickled her skin. A peek into the gatehouse as they passed showed her that only one person manned it; Max kicked back playing solitaire. Screens showing the pool, tennis courts, main building, and grounds indicated that looping cameras were used for security. What's better, she saw a pc in the guard shack. Good
, she could hack into it given time and opportunity.
Is Perez here yet? She noticed a checklist on a clipboard, and tried to make it out, but it was too far away. Trying to keep her observations surreptitious, she gave that up and casually scanned the grounds instead. The Retreat appeared to be the perfect vacation spot, if one discounted the discreetly armed guards, naked sex slaves, and guard towers down by the white sand beach. They were an incongruous sight, but if the den of iniquity catered to members of Perez's ilk, they'd need the security.
Tropical blooms grew in abundance, perfuming the air—hibiscus, jasmine, and wild orchids. A warm breeze caressed her tender skin, making her nipples pucker. She suddenly understood why people practiced nudism; it was glorious being naked in the sunshine. Best of all, nobody paid her the least attention, as another naked sex slave. It might give her the ability to fly under the radar and actually get some investigative work done.
The layout was exactly as the file she'd peeked at had said. A series of cottages, twenty in all, surrounded a large main building. The compact grounds would make them easy to survey. A swath of white sand beach led to a boat dock, with several sleek boats tied up to them.
They passed by the tennis courts, and two men in tennis whites actually stopped playing to stare at her. She stared back recognizing Thom Wetzel, a pudgy diamond merchant, and Ari Kahn reputed arms dealer, who was thin, tan, and austere. Delta had files on them both, at least an inch thick. So they are into the kinky stuff.
Kahn leered at her, his eyes cold and reptilian as she walked by. Wetzel's gaze was just plain curious. The two were obviously on the make, and apparently, she as a naked sexual submissive, was fair game. Thank goodness, she belonged to Condor. She picked up her pace, feeling vulnerable, and couldn't stop the blush that heated her face and telegraphed to the rest of her body. Kahn's booming laugh said he enjoyed the discomfited reaction he'd caused as she caught up with Condor and Lola.
A swift gust of wind blew Lola's short dress up, baring her upper thighs, and thong-covered bottom. Bridget was annoyed when Condor's gaze seemed to lock on her bared assets for a long beat. Why is he so fascinated by the other woman's charms? The only distinctive thing about her was a tattoo high on her hip. Men, they are all alike, even on the job.
Lola led them straight to Bungalow Twenty, and opened the door. “These are your rooms, Jason. I trust that they'll meet your liking."
Condor smiled, casting a casual look around the well-appointed rooms, spotting the probable signs of bugs. He turned to pin Lola with a friendly smile. “They look perfect, Miss Lola. This will do nicely."
Lola handed him the key, batting her eyes at him. “If there's anything else I can do, Jason, anything at all."
"I can think of a lot of things,” Condor said, with a low chuckle, making Lola smile. “We'll talk later,” he promised, taking her hand and kissing it. She wore a diamond ring on her left hand that had to be worth a mint. Her skin was tanned underneath the band, which meant it was recent.
Lola smiled, and leaned in closer to say, “We'll have our usual social hour this evening. Can I have your bed slave's name for the program?"
Condor cocked a repressive look at Bridget who was openly glaring at them. She dropped her gaze, biting her lip, her nipples budding. She was a perfect, blushing, redheaded goddess standing in the doorway. “Star,” he filled in, hoping his voice didn't sound as ensnared as he felt. Bridget peered up at him, her eyes twinkling. His cock throbbed behind his fly.
Lola cleared her throat. “May I have your attention, please?"
"I'm all yours, love,” Condor said with a slow smile, and watched Lola beam, licking her thin red lips. Bridget shot daggers at him from behind Lola's back.
"That's better,” Lola said, touching his arm. “I'll leave her to unpack your things. Send her down to me at the spa in half an hour, so I can prepare her for tonight, will you?"
Bridget let out a dismayed gasp.
"Prepare?” Condor asked, throwing a forbidding look Bridget's way, satisfied when she went silent. This first day was crucial, much as he disliked the idea of turning her over to Lola's clutches, or letting her out on her own. She'd probably cause trouble.
Lola smiled, walking toward the door. “The girls put on entertainment for the guests, as many of them are put up for swaps. It provides a bit of variety for all concerned. I'm sure you'll find it amusing."
Condor chuckled. “I'm sure I will.” But the pleading gaze Bridget flashed him made him curse under his breath. He knew being with her would complicate things.
"Just for the record, Lola,” he said, stopping her at the door. “I don't like to share my toys. Star isn't up for swaps."
"Very well,” Lola said with a shrug. “Let me know when you change your mind."
He could feel the vibes of gratitude coming off Bridget as he saw Lola out the door, and closed it after her. He locked it and turned to face his flame, as he leaned back against the door. Well hell, he was becoming emotionally involved and it wouldn't do. He had to harden himself to get them both through this whole. She flashed a hungry look up at him, and then cast a shocked look around their bungalow; the king-size four-post bed with built-in restraints, and the spanking bench and paddle. She licked her lips, her nipples beading hard, and he groaned. Damn, he was in big trouble. The act would have to go on twenty-four/seven to be convincing.
Condor burned, alone with Bridget, his cock throbbing as he eyed her nudity, her wide-eyed shock when she looked at the spanking bar and paddles. She was like a breath of fresh air in this den of iniquity. He couldn't wait to introduce her to all the toys. He hadn't known about the swapping going on, or he wouldn't have brought her. One thing was sure; he wouldn't let other men use her. He stalked up to her, locking gazes with her, then seeing her blush move down her exquisite body.
He smiled, his cock throbbing as he stepped into her personal space and inhaled her tempting scent. The woman blushed all over, highlighting her alluring breasts. Her fiery hair partially covered them, only her stiff nipples winked out at him, and then, the red nest of curls shielded her sex from his gaze. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms, and do her then and there. Instead, he took her hand and she leaned into him, like a flower to the sun. His heart opened, as his cock throbbed. Still, it wouldn't do to let her run roughshod over him. He slipped a slave collar around her neck, smiling when she gasped.
Growling, he pulled her to him, discreetly clicking the jamming device in his pocket. “The place is bugged."
"Are you sure?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes at her naiveté. “Trust me. We've got about two minutes to talk. That's about as long as I can scramble any listening devices they have without making them suspicious. After that they'll probably go ape-shit."
"So talk."
"No investigating, no risks, no sticking your nose where it doesn't belong when you go off to the spa. You're here to assist me and that's an order. You lost the option to say no the minute you agreed to be my partner. I'll do the thinking for both of us."
"Bull. Of all the arrogant jerks, you're the worst."
His eyes narrowed; his body charged by her nearness. “And you're the feistiest submissive I've ever seen."
She gasped when her nipples rubbed against him. “And I suppose you've seen plenty."
"I've tamed my share,” he said, then chuckled, enjoying her jealous glare.
"Bastard,” she hissed, humping against him. “Why don't you just take me and get it over with?"
He shook his head, his mouth firming, as he nibbled her ear. “You haven't earned that privilege, yet."
"Cocky, aren't you?” she said, with a needy gasp.
His cock throbbed as her mound ground against it. “I haven't had any complaints."
"Jerk."
He shook his head. “I can't protect you when we're apart. Lola's already suspicious of you."
She frowned. “I didn't do that badly. And you don't need to protect me."
&nb
sp; "Not even from me?” he said, pressing against her.
She trembled. “Especially not from you. If you think I lack experience, you'll have to train me for real."
"Don't tempt me, Kitten.” His eyes twinkled, as he added, “From now on we play by my rules. It's got to look and feel real.” He added, “Behave yourself and we'll get the job done together. Act up, and I'll keep you bound and gagged while I work alone."
She glared up at him, punching him in the stomach. “I will not behave myself. I have a job to do, same as you."
He chuckled, marveling at her spirit. “Your two minutes of free talk are up,” he said, unclicking the scrambler. Her nipples were like ripe strawberries, budded tight, her creamy arousal pressed against him. Her emerald eyes were clouded with need that wasn't an act. Against his better judgment, he bent to kiss her, his hand sliding to her clit. She came with a shriek into his mouth, and sagged against him. He throbbed, unsatisfied, against her. Something deep inside of him melted. He handed her the caftan and watched her put it on, brooding inside. He could handle this, push her away, and be the hard-assed professional he was supposed to be.
A knock on the door broke Condor out of his musings. “What is it?” he barked.
"Your bags, sir."
"Wait a minute,” Condor said. He unlocked the door, gazing down at Bridget. She stood before him flushed and glowing from her orgasm. So much for his plan to keep her sexually hungry; he was the one who was aching with unfulfilled need. “I'll do the unpacking. You don't want to be late for Lola, and remember my orders, be careful."
Chapter 5
Bridget walked away on shaky legs, her body still charged from her orgasm. Condor was such a stud, and at the same time, a major problem. She didn't like his we'll both have to make the best of it comment. Had it been regret in his voice? She turned to gaze at him. He was leaned back against the spanking bar watching her, with a predatory look on his face. Was he sorry it was her instead of another woman? No! She would not let herself go there. It was obvious that he still didn't work well with others. Still, she was dying to ask. Does he think me attractive, sexy? It was a stupid thought, but she couldn't stop it. How long had he trained women? Her nipples tingled, her pussy got wetter. Brushing by Ramón with the bags, she walked down the path toward the spa.