Agent of Desire (Jessica Booker) (3 page)

He’s still halfway hard, and when I bite my lower lip, his mouth opens and he takes in a breath. I sit up, arching my back to expose my chest for him to get a better look at the goods. The lump in his pants jumps. I slide my hand up his leg and cup his cock in my hand. I lean in for the kiss and he puts his hand out, stopping me.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says.

“But I want to,” I say, and it isn’t a lie. I am already turned on just by his hardness in my hand. He relents and lets me kiss him. I bite his lip and tease his tongue with my own, then squeeze his cock.

He moans and reaches his hands around my waist, pulling me onto his lap in one quick movement. I take his hands and place them on my chest, helping him realize his need to touch me. My nipples harden at once. Even with my dress on, he knows just what to do. He brushes my nipples gently with his thumbs, sending throbbing heat throughout my body. But that isn’t enough for me, and I’ve already started on the zipper of my dress. His hands cup and tease my breasts as my tongue chases his.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says again, breaking away from the kiss. But I’ve already pulled the dress halfway down my arms. His hands find my bra and slowly work their way underneath the silky fabric. He skillfully tugs on the straps and pulls the cups down beneath my breasts so they are fully exposed. He looks at them hungrily.

I straddle him on my knees so that he can take me with his mouth. He does, flicking his wet tongue over my left nipple, then biting it hard enough to cause pain. But it also makes me moan.

His hands make their way up my thighs beneath my dress. My panties are wet, and he finds that out soon enough as his fingers brush against me, teasing me, lightly tickling me over my panties until I’m ready to beg. Just at the right moment, he throws me down on my back on the couch. I’m not used to being manhandled like this, but I like it. I want it. I want him to have his way with me.

I spread my legs open and wait for him to jump me, but instead, he continues to tease me. He slides his fingers inside my panties and gently plays with the folds of my sex, squeezing and rubbing. His fingers move close to my clit without touching it. He circles around it several times, and then brushes it gently. My body rises up as it begs for his touch. I can’t take it anymore. I grab my purse from the floor and open it, digging for a condom. I want to fuck. Now.

Shit. I don’t have one. “Do you have protection?” I practically beg.

“
Merde
,” he says. “
Non
.” He stops, hovering over me. He’s still wearing his glasses, which is so hot it makes me want him more.

I’m on my back, topless, exposed. My dress is bunched up around my waist, and my legs are still open. My whole body is aching with desire. I think he’s going to get up and move away, but as I move to sit up, he gently guides me back down.

“We can still do some things.” Hearing him speak with that sexy French accent makes my body hum. “
On peut faire comme ça…
” He puts his hands on the insides of my thighs and slides them down toward my center so slowly that my body trembles. When he’s almost there, he brushes the sensitive surrounding skin with the pads of his thumbs. I’ve never wanted to be touched so badly in my entire life. If he continues like this, I may come without even being touched.

He slips his fingers into my panties and brushes his fingertips against my warmth only briefly before easing a finger inside me. My muscles clench as I almost come, but he pulls his hand away. He takes my dress from around my waist and pulls it down my body, taking my panties with it.

Save for my bra, which is covering nothing, I am naked. He, however, is still fully clothed. My knees closed when he pulled off my dress, and he spreads my legs open again, exposing me. “You are so beautiful,” he says. “I could just sit here and look at you.”

I spread my legs wider, wanting him to do more than just look. He leans in and kisses a trail along the inside of my thigh. When his wet mouth finally lands on my clit, I’m so hot I can’t help but shout, “Oh, please!”

He complies, no longer gentle as he flicks his tongue over me in rapid succession, moving faster and faster. The pressure builds until I want to scream. He shoves two fingers into me hard, and I come as they thrust into me again and again.

As the spasms fade, I just lay there, panting. My body relaxes into the couch as I catch my breath, recovering from the best oral sex I’ve had in, well, ever. I look at him, still fully clothed, and realize he’s just taken me to climax. I was supposed to be doing that for him. I was supposed to be the one making all of his dreams come true, not the other way around.

He looks at me with a slight smile. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did. And I think it might be your turn now.”

“Oh, do you?” He raises an eyebrow.

In an effort to regain control of the situation, something I obviously lost on my back just a minute ago, I return his smile and sit up. “What do you like?” I ask.

“I had a good enough time watching you. You don’t need to do that for me.”

I’ve never heard of a guy turning down oral sex before, but I’m not giving up so easily. I don’t want to owe him anything. Right now, he’s in control. I want that control back.

“Should I stay naked?” I get up and kneel on the floor in front of him, reaching around to undo my bra so that I am completely nude. The bulge in his pants is still there.

He doesn’t answer me, instead electing to focus all of his attention on my breasts again. I pull him forward, undo his zipper and he shifts up, letting me slide his pants and boxers all the way down to his ankles. He’s not circumcised, something I’m used to from my time spent in Ireland. He’s so big
that my insides tremble, and I wish again that I had a damn condom. Fuck, I want him inside me.

I lick the head of his penis, and he runs his fingers through my hair, grabbing it and tangling it up at the back of my neck. I look up at him innocently, then plunge his cock into my mouth—slowly at first, but as he gets excited, he urges me to go faster until he’s near climax. I pull back for a while to pleasure myself, and his eyes turn dark. When I take him in my mouth again, his hips push forward, matching my rhythm, wanting me. I take his cock in as deep as I can as I move my mouth faster and faster until he comes—
hard
.

“Oh, Lori,” he groans.

It takes me a moment to remember that Lori is me. It’s been so long since anyone has called out Jessica, my real name. I wonder if it’s been long enough that Jessica would sound weird, too.

Once Geoffrey has caught his breath, he picks me up and
easily carries me to his bedroom, where he lays me down in his bed and wraps himself around me. I don’t normally cuddle—but then, this isn’t recreational. I’m on a mission.

My head rests on his shoulder as he asks, “So, what about you? Why are you still single?”

“I travel for work a lot. And it’s hard to find someone.” It’s the truth, sort of.

I also don’t want a relationship. I was raised by my uncle, who was also a CIA agent. We moved around
a lot
, and I learned early on not to get attached to people, because nothing lasts forever.

He lifts my chin up so that we face each other. His eyes are filled with contentment and affection. He thinks we’ve made a connection. I reach up and kiss him because I can’t look into his eyes. I don’t like men looking at me that way, like I’m potential girlfriend material. The idea makes me want to run, but I can’t. I have a job to do.

When I release him from the kiss he allows me to rest my head under his chin, and his body settles into mine. Eventually, his breathing slows and his arms relax, releasing his hold on me.

With Geoffrey finally asleep, I exchange his glasses for an exact replica containing one of the world’s smallest cameras.

Yes, we do get all the coolest toys.

The target is Geoffrey’s employer, Intelex. We already had the building schematics, a key card, and an exact replica of Geoffrey’s electronic computer access key generator. The only things missing were his pin number and password, both of which he stores in his head.

After spending the day watching the camera feed with Sims, we had everything we needed and it was time to go in. If all went as planned, the mission would be completed by the end of the night.

“It’s my job,” I say sternly. “I’ll do it.” I get up from the chair in his hotel room. We’ve set up command and are now arguing logistics, though I don’t know why.
I’m
the one who goes in, he’s the one who will monitor from the outside. He knows that’s how it works. Agent goes in, handler “handles” things from the outside.

“You don’t have enough experience for this,” Sims says, trying to talk me out of going in alone. Or at all. “You almost screwed up planting the camera because you were running late.”

“I know I shouldn’t have stopped off before going to Pinot’s.” My voice is quiet, betraying my shame, “But I made it, and I won’t screw up like that again. I promise.” I force myself to stand up straighter and look him in the eye. In the end, I’d made it happen. A little appreciation from Sims would be nice. But I didn’t get into this job for the niceties.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to succeed, Jessica.” His face warms, and he reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m just worried. I don’t want you to get hurt.” His hand traces a line down my bare arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He grabs my hand and squeezes it.

I realize He’s using his hot teacher wiles to try and talk me out of the mission. Still, I find myself studying the contours of his body through his shirt, unable to help myself.

I force my gaze away from his rock hard chest to look him straight in the eye. “I’m not your student anymore,” I say. “I’m a full agent.”

He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. “I know.” He cups my chin in his hand, pulling my face up to his. “I know.” He kisses me gently.

I kiss him back. I want to get lost in it. I want to let him continue to kiss me. I want to see how far this
will go, but I pull away instead.

I’ve wanted Agent Sims since I first met him, but this job, my first serious op, is what I’ve waited for my whole life. Some hot guy isn’t going to talk me out of it that easily. “It’s my mission,” I say resolutely. “I’ll do it.”

* * *

Intelex has its headquarters in a classic Parisian building
—five stories of intricately carved white stone, lined with massive windows. A gate surrounds the entire building with a guardhouse out front. It’s ten o‘clock at night. There are lights on inside, but they’re dim—just security lighting.

My skintight black top and leggings help me blend into the night as I easily scale the metal gate of the compound, using the crossbars of the fence as a ladder. I skirt around the edge of the small yard to the area clear of security cameras.

It feels almost like a spy movie, without the high stakes. I doubt the French will kill me if they catch me sneaking around in one of their private companies, although it might incite an international incident. And breaking and entering in France, though not punishable by death, is still illegal. I would lose my dream job and go to jail for a while, that’s all. Still, I’m shaking. In training we ran through all kinds of scenarios breaking into all types of buildings with different layers of security. But those were all drills. This is my first real break in.

“Jess
ica, you there?” Sims’s voice whispers in my earpiece.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Are you in?”

“Almost.”

“We don’t have all night,” he says.

I don’t respond. Instead, I walk along the side of the building until I find the line of open balconies. They start on the second floor and go all the way up to the fifth. Each balcony is surrounded by a low, stone-columned railing. This is how I’ll get to my entry point.

I unhook the climbing rope from the side of my pack and swing it up to the first balcony. The hook on the end latches to the railing and I pull myself up. After liberating the rope from the first railing, I toss the rope up to the next. By the time I reach the third floor, my arm muscles are burning. I worked out religiously during my last assignment, but the gym is no replacement for CIA basic training. My arm muscles scream as I crawl up to the next floor, hand over hand. Even through my gloves, the pads of my fingers chafe against the rope. When I finally reach the fifth floor, my target floor, my hands are raw and I have to rest to catch my breath.

The doors leading inside are probably locked, but I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try them. I know they’re alarmed. Instead, I climb up on top of the balcony railing. I’m not scared of heights; still, looking down five floors while balancing on the railing gives me vertigo. I cling to the outside of the building for a moment to steady myself. The adrenaline is pumping and I can hear the thump of my manic heartbeat. I take a deep breath and jump up, hooking my fingertips over the edge of the roof. My rope-burned hands scream, and my arm muscles shake as I scramble to pull myself up with only a ledge to hold onto. I’m definitely going to double my workout regiment after this.