No More Mr. Nice Guy (19 page)

“This is bullshit and you know it, Bridget.” I couldn't disguise the frustration in my voice as I stared over at Bridget, who was in the back of her Rolls, nonchalantly inspecting her manicure. Even she had to admit that I was becoming more efficient at what we did, and in some ways I was even better at it than she was. That didn't mean she was willing to give me any credit.

“When are you going to stop babysitting me and let me go out on my own? Haven't I proven I can do the job?” I pressed.

She turned and glared at me. “Sure, you've proven you can be an effective killer, but there are ten-year-old boys doing that for Isis in Syria every day. How many times do I have to tell you this job isn't just about putting a bullet in someone's head? You're good, Niles, real good, and you have the ability to be one of the best operatives this agency has ever produced, but you still have a lot to learn. I think tonight will prove that to you.” She had this sarcastic way of complimenting me and then tearing me down at the same time that drove me insane.

She handed me a folder, and I thumbed through it, stopping at a black and white surveillance photo of a bearded white man in his late forties. “This our mark?” I asked.

She nodded. “His name is Alexander Renkoff. He used to be a CIA asset. Now he's a man with a conscience. On Monday, he plans to testify in front of the United Nations about United States crimes against humanity in Guantanamo Bay. We've been asked to discreetly make sure he doesn't make it to the UN.”

“Why do we care about what happens to the CIA?” I asked, not exactly thrilled with the idea of killing someone just to keep his mouth shut.

“You know, for someone who spent most of his life as an Army grunt blindly following orders, you sure as hell ask a lot of questions. And for the record, this is way above your pay grade—and mine, too, for that matter. We have a job to do, and we're being paid well to do it. Let's just get the job done.”

I sighed. “Okay, let's get it done. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done.”

She smirked. “Are you? Because I'm going to test your ability to stay cool, calm, and collected under pressure, amongst other things, then turn around and test your moral compass.”

“I love tests. I've always been an A student. You should know that, teach,” I said, my voice full of cocky self-assurance.

“Yeah, well, you get an A in this, and even I'll be impressed, because this job isn't just about killing a mark. It's about getting to the target and not letting anyone know we did it. So don't fuck this up. I'm not the only one who will be watching.” There was something about the way she said it that gave me concern, but I played it off the best I could. I didn't have a good feeling about this one, but taking care of my mother was my first and foremost concern, so I was going to do whatever I had to do.

When the car pulled up to the curb, Bridget nodded to Winston, and the two of us got out. We were greeted by two doormen who looked like Samoan wrestlers. They were standing guard in front of an inconspicuous building with no obvious signs, like an old school speakeasy. Bridget leaned in and whispered something to one of the doormen. He nodded to his colleague, who opened up the door.

“You two enjoy yourselves,” the man holding the door said.

“Oh, I'm sure we will,” Bridget answered, raising her eyebrows suggestively before taking my hand and leading me inside.

The moment we walked in, we were bathed in low lighting and classical music that gave the place a very high-end feel. A scantily clad woman promptly took our names and directed us to a private room that appeared to be a small locker room, like the kind you see at hotel spas. I really wanted to ask questions, but all that went out the window when I turned to Bridget and saw that she was already halfway out of her dress.

“Ummm, why exactly are you standing in front of me half naked?” I couldn't help the fact that my eyes were glued to her damn near perfect bare breasts.

“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting undressed. You need to do the same,” she snapped like this was what we did on a daily basis. She let her dress drop to the ground, and all she was wearing was a tiny black thong, which she didn't hesitate to remove. Damn, I had to give it to her; the woman had an amazing body. One look at her Brazilian wax job and my dick jumped straight to attention.

“I don't think that's such a good idea. We have to maintain some type of professionalism, don't we?” I tried to sound sincere, but the last thing I wanted was for this egotistical woman to see me naked with a hard dick. It would just make her more arrogant than she already was. Even with my clothes still on, I had to turn my body away from her so she wouldn't see the tent in my pants.

“Look, Niles, I don't have time for your vanity. Now, get out your fucking clothes. You're wasting valuable time!” she snapped in a way that made me realize she was serious and I didn't have a choice. I followed suit, feeling like a fool as I stood in front of her, naked, with an erect penis. God, if Keisha knew about this, I thought, she'd kill me.

For a brief moment, Bridget stood there and stared at my package, nodding with a big-ass grin on her face, like she knew something I didn't. “Not bad, Monroe. I was really afraid you were going to have a little dick, but you got something a woman can work with. Not too big, but definitely not too small.”

Without warning, she took hold of my penis, firmly leading me toward a door on the other side of the room, which she didn't hesitate to open. We were immediately inundated with music and strobe lighting. The place had the feel of a club, except that everyone in the room was completely naked. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light; however, that's when I realized that not only was everyone naked, but most of them were engaged in some type of sexual act.

What the fuck? I guess the best way to describe it was that I was standing in the middle of a big-ass orgy.

“What the fuck is this place?”

“It's a sex club. Now, stay close and keep your eyes peeled for Alexander.” She tugged on my dick, and I had no choice but to follow her into the room. Thank God for the crazy lighting, or everyone would have seen me blushing. The crazy thing is, despite how embarrassed I was, my dick remained hard the whole time.

A thirty-something-year-old redhead swept past us, stopping Bridget. “Oh, that looks like it could be fun.” She looked downward, and that was when I realized she was talking about my dick.

Bridget smiled and said, “I know, right? I'm about to find out.”

“Let me know. I'd totally take him in my ass.”

Bridget smiled at the bold woman but, to my relief, kept on moving, still leading me by the dick as she searched through the crowd of freaks.

After about two or three minutes of people feeling on my ass and touching me like I was some type of plaything, I stopped dead in my tracks. This shit was getting crazy, and I wanted some answers.

“What the fuck is this place? And why the hell are we here?”

“We're here because Alexander's here. He never misses one of these parties. He can't help himself. He's got this thing about watching people fuck, so loosen up and keep your eyeballs peeled.” Once again, she began to lead me around, looking at one freaky act after another as we searched the room.

“Bridget, over there.” I motioned toward an upper level, and there was old boy, watching two people go at it while some East Indian woman sucked on his dick.

“C'mon.” She led me over to the stairs, which were roped off.

“Sorry, VIP only.” A beefy man in a G-string stopped us from going any farther. He pointed at his wrist. “You gotta have a green bracelet.”

“Fuck!” Bridget tried to talk the bouncer into letting us up the stairs, but she was getting nowhere with him. “Come on,” she said to me as she pulled me away from him. “There's more than one way to skin a cat.”

She led me over to the center of the room, staring up at the VIP section until Alexander was in perfect view. Once there, she let go of my penis and stared at me seriously.

“This is where you earn your stripes, Monroe. Right here, right now, we find out if you're Jason Bourne or Maxwell fucking Smart. Are you ready?”

She reminded me of this really intense, no-nonsense commanding officer I used to have. You never wanted to let this guy down.

“Of course I'm ready,” I said like this wasn't the weirdest fucking situation I'd ever been in. “What do I have to do?” I stood in front of her, chest out like a warrior ready to go into battle—but no way was I expecting this kind of fight.

She took a long breath then spit out a question. “Do you know how to fuck?”

The way she said it was all business, and not the least bit sexy.

“Huh?” I stared at her, my back kind of stiffening.

“I said, can you fuck? Are you any good with that thing hanging between your legs?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer the damn question. Do you know how to fuck? Can you put it down and make a bitch scream?”

“I haven't had any complaints, if that's what you're getting at. What the hell are you up—”

Before I could complete my question, she jumped up in the air, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Fuck me!” Bridget began to rock her back and hips in anticipation.

I whispered in her ear, “I have a girlfriend.”

“Tell
him
that,” she whispered back, gesturing toward Alexander before grabbing my hard dick and shoving it inside of her. Within seconds, it was engulfed by the warmest, moistest coochie I'd ever felt.

She held onto my neck and began to slide up and down. As much as I'd like to say I refused to participate, my dick stood at full attention, instinctively thrusting into her. My manhood had a mind of its own, even though my mind was racing with guilt about Keisha. I attempted to resist, making myself stand as still as possible as I tried to get my bearings, because clearly the little head was leading the big head.

“I can't do this. I have a girlfriend,” I repeated.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” she cursed, continuing to slide up and down on my pole. She was doing something with her muscles; I can't tell you exactly what it was, but it sure as hell felt good.

“We've got a job to do, Niles, so man up and fuck me. It's the only way Alexander's going to come down from his ivory perch,” she said, still ordering me around as she was fucking me like a pro.

I guess I should have expected her to do something like that the minute we walked in the door, but I hadn't. It hadn't even crossed my mind. I mean, call me naïve, but it's not every day you are asked to fuck your boss in the line of duty.

“God dammit, fuck me!” she growled.

That was the last thing I heard before I bit my lip and began doing exactly what she demanded. I didn't just fuck her. I took out all my anger, aggression, and frustration on her woman parts. Surprisingly, the meaner I got, the more she seemed to like it.

“That's it. That's it, fuck me!” she shouted, letting go of my neck and leaning back like she was riding a bucking bronco. I must say she was putting on quite a show, to the point that she was attracting a crowd, which was probably her point.

She rode me like that for a few minutes, then stretched her hands back to the floor in some crazy yoga position. “That's it, baby. Keep fucking. Now spin me.”

“What?” I was still pumping away, but what she was asking seemed kind of crazy. Then again, nothing could be crazier than us fucking in a sex club to attract the attention of a horny ex-CIA agent.

“I said spin me around!”

Once again, I did what I was told, spinning her around in some wild Dancing with the Porn Stars fuck move. While we spun, I continued to fuck her hard and strong, despite the fact that I was getting dizzy as hell. The most ridiculous part was the dizzier I got, the more into it I seemed to be. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Fuck me! Fuck me!”

She let out a scream, which I think included my name. “Oh, shit, Niles! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come!” At this point I was sweating like a pig, and like her, I'm about to come as well. Her body began twitching and writhing as her climaxed released, and when I say she released, I mean it. Come to find out Bridget was one of those rare women that they called squirters. “Fuck, I'm coooming!” she screamed for both of us.

I slowed down, trying to shake the dizziness, only to see most of the club's crowd surrounding us. Believe it or not, those perverts broke out into a standing ovation, and the man leading the applause was none other than our mark, Alexander.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup in the locker room when I heard someone let out an ear-piercing scream from inside the club area. Then all I heard was a commotion and people scrambling like madmen, which told me that our mission had been a complete success.

After my freaky performance with Niles, Alexander had introduced himself then very politely asked Niles if he could fuck me. Niles, of course, offered no objection, and during our brief moment of intimacy, I placed a very special dot on the back of Alexander's neck. Unlike the dots that I usually used, this dot didn't kill the subject right away; instead, it caused a blood clot, causing the victim to either have a severe stroke or a heart attack.

Leaving the building promptly, I took a deep breath as I slid into the backseat of the Rolls, because my new dilemma resided with my partner, who, to be quite honest, had fucked me like a pro.

“What the fuck!” Niles snapped as he climbed in the car.

Winston closed the door, making his way around the car and into the driver's seat.

“Not now, Niles,” I said with authority, reminding him who was boss. I could hear the ambulance sirens and wanted to get ghost as soon as possible. None of this could be traced back to us. The fact that there were so many prominent folks inside at the time guaranteed news coverage would be minimal, but I still didn't want to be anywhere near the place, in case some genius happened to find the dot, which was designed to have fallen off by now.

“Winston, let's get outta here,” I said.

“You did that shit on purpose.” Niles hit the button, raising the glass between Winston and us. He looked like he was ready to strangle me. “We could've hit that target anyplace else in the city, but you insisted we had to get him in the sex club. You know I have a girlfriend that I'm faithful to. Was this just some setup so I would screw you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop being so paranoid. And stop flattering yourself. You think you're so hot that I would go to those lengths to get with you? Please. It's just a part of the job, little boy.”

He cut his eyes at me, and I realized I had wounded his ego. I decided to throw him a small compliment so he wouldn't be pouting all night long.

“Okay, fine. I will admit that you have skills, but the bottom line is we do whatever the fuck it takes to complete a mission. There wasn't any other way to get to Alexander. If we could have gotten his attention without our little performance, then I would have. And besides, you seemed to enjoy yourself. Can't we just look at the sex as a little bonus?” I couldn't hold back my smile as he glared at me.

“I have a girlfriend. You should have respected that,” he responded, unable to answer my question or look me in my eyes. “I could have taken that guy out from a block away as he was leaving the club.”

“No, you couldn't. It had to look like an accident, not an assassination. That was the job. He was the target, and this was the only way to get close to him,” I hissed, getting more annoyed. I did not like to have my judgment questioned, especially by my underling. “There were two A-list stars, a couple of Fortune 500 CEOs, and a congressman in there, Niles. You think us walking in there clothed and shooting would have missed the news?”

“You couldn't have given me a heads up? Perhaps told me the fucking plan?” He pouted, refusing to be pacified. “We're supposed to be partners. You should have trusted me.”

“If I had told you that you might have to fuck me to get the job done, would you have done it?”

He hesitated, giving me his answer without saying a word.

“Exactly my point. This job is about the job, and that's all.”

“Not if it affects my life. I'm planning on marrying that girl someday.”

A twinge of jealousy swept through me, taking me by surprise. He had been with Keisha over seven months now, and life was good—except when he had to go out and kill someone for his new job, or now, fuck someone he worked with. He really didn't want to mess up a good thing, which was amazing. It was rare to find a man who even recognized when he had a good thing. That Keisha was a lucky woman. I wondered if she knew it.

“I can't just go around fucking people,” he continued, unable to let it go.

I scrunched up my face dramatically. “Boo fucking hoo. If your girl has a problem with you doing what your job requires, then you're just gonna need to learn how to keep a secret. Besides, be honest. You liked it, didn't you?

I teased. “You like the way I fuck, don't you? I'm super tight and really wet.” In fact, I was getting wet now, just having flashbacks to our encounter in the club.

He looked flustered. I wondered if he was also having flashbacks. “That's not the point,” he finally mumbled. “And this is not your life. It's mine.”

“Niles, I know you love this job. How can you not? And eventually, you're going to realize that this job is your life. Until then, you need to grow the fuck up,” I said, deciding that this discussion should be over. “Now, I'm hungry and I need a cigarette, because I like to have a nice smoke after I get fucked real good.”

“So that's it?” he huffed.

“What do you want me to say? This is work, and work comes first. Now, you understand the job. Do you want to continue to complain about it? Because I can find someone else to do the job, but just know that we don't pay unemployment, and even if we did, it sure as hell wouldn't be enough to support your mama the way you want.” I pulled out an e-cigarette, desperately taking a blissful toke.

“From now on, I'm told the total mission from the start, or else I walk,” he said, as if he was actually contemplating quitting. I knew that would never happen, but I let him believe I was concerned he might quit.

I nodded to let him know I was giving in to his demands, allowing him to maintain the delusion that he had any true control over his situation now that he was employed by Dynamic Defense. Looking satisfied that I'd given in, Niles took the cigarette out of my hand and took a drag.

“So she doesn't mind you smoking?” I joked.

He threw his head back and exhaled, announcing with plenty of confidence, “When it comes to this job, what she doesn't know won't hurt her.”

I suppressed a sigh of relief. For a minute, I had thought that I was going to lose him over this assignment. Now I was growing more certain that Niles was truly cut out for this job and me.