Page 21 of Jonesing for a Spy

“And how am I lucky? You know what? Don’t answer that. I can feel how lucky I am from my thighs to chest.”

She does that muscle clench again and drops her head to my chest. “I wish this weren’t bad for me. I’d stay just like this until I inevitably get too hot in the middle of the night and move as far away as it takes to find a cold spot.”

That’s a lot of info.

“Stay a minute longer,” I whisper, running my palm along that same path, soothing me as I soothe her.

She nods against my chest and uses her fingers to draw a pattern along my forearm. Add that to the list of things I didn’t know I couldn’t live without.

“Tell me something about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Her chest vibrates against mine as her words hit the quiet room.

“Anything real.”

“I was a medic in the Army. The Ranger thing sort of just happened.” Her voice drops, and her fingers continue their drawing. “It wasn’t like it was my sole desire or something I had to prove. I was good at it. I could do it. I’ve never met a challenge I couldn’t outlast. And that’s what it takes… not quitting when they want to break you.”

“That’s a massive challenge, and you just went with it?”

She shrugs. “It was the next thing. It made sense.”

“That’s like saying you trained for a marathon because you were bored.” I can’t fathom what she’s saying.

“My family thinks the knee thing devastated me.” She pauses and her voice drops until I have to strain to hear. “I was fine being a soldier, but I was okay without it, too. I don’t want to be aimless. I’m more worried about that, actually, than the knee. Don’t think less of me.”

“Less of you?” My hand stops its trek and presses firmly into her back. “How could I think less of you? You’re accomplished and obviously tenacious. But being willing to pivot when things aren’t right is…” What is it? “Admirable. It means you’re resilient, and that’s a big deal.”

She pushes up to look down on me, her hair mussed from sex and wild around her face that’s open and raw. “You really think so?”

I nod. “I know so. That’s a whole different kind of bravery… Looking life in the eye and course-correcting. Few people have the courage to walk away from something good because the idea of great haunts them.”

Am I speaking to her or to myself?

She nods. “It wasn’t bad. It was hard as hell—mentally, physically, and emotionally. Same with washing out. Nothing is easy.”

“Nothing worth it is easy,” I correct softly. “Now, baby, I’m oozing out of you all over both of us. I do not want to move, but you deserve to be cleaned up and not have a wet spot in your bed.

“How are you real?” She topples over me curling into a ball.

I slip off the bed, tossing the covers over her body, and find her bathroom, including a washcloth… and her vibrator.

I won’t get jealous over silicone. I won’t get jealous over silicone. I won’t—nope. I note its location. I plan to take it with me when I leave her apartment. For as long as I’m here, she can use the toy attached to me.

I return to her with a warm, wet rag and clean me off of her, hating it, but loving the redness left behind by our passion. I stare a bit too long, or I must, because she slides a hand over her bare cunt and flips me the middle finger.

Mirren

The look on his face is priceless. He’s a ten-year-old boy busted looking at a Playboy or something. Red creeps up his cheeks, and he slams his eyes shut.

“Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I can’t see you.”

His eyes spring open. “Show some restraint, Freckles. You have to know that your pussy is perfect. Of course, I’m going to stare.”

One, I do not know. And two, he wants to stare? Well, two can play at that game. My gaze dives for his cock bouncing between us. He’s mostly soft, but it wouldn’t take much. “If I blow on it, would it stand at attention?”

“For sure and probably pledge allegiance to you too.” He holds my gaze—half-dare, half-torture—before heading back to my bathroom. He clicks off the lights as he returns, as if this is our nighttime routine.

I probably should mention that the one in the hall stays on all the time. Just in case. Just in case the sounds or the sights want to revisit me. Just in case I need to see warmth and real and home when my eyes inevitably spring open in panic. If only to remind me that the bad guys are half a world away.