Models and Super Spies Ch. 12

"No more guilt, Alicia. You're free."

"Trey, I love you." It came out fast, before she could bottle it away forever. And before she knew it, they were kissing. Passionately. Lovingly. Deeply. Both knew this was it. Both knew this was their goodbye.

"I'll leave you two alone," the redhead interrupted. "The hotel room here is secure. Be out of there by this evening."

Alicia led her husband – her soon-to-be ex-husband? – to the elevators. One last afternoon of fun. The way it used to be. One last chance to really make love to a man.

***

Liz watched them go. She always hated this part in tragedies, and she was the type who normally screamed at the on-screen couple at how silly they were being, and how they could work through it. But as her green eyes swiveled between Trey and Alicia Kennedy, she knew real life wasn't that simple.

She took the corkscrew ramp down slowly, letting herself ponder all the things that had come to pass, and all the things left to be done.

One way or another, everything would come to a head tomorrow night. Vincent would go for the killing blow, going after Alex and Trey in a final, desperate attack. If successful, he'd be untouchable, possessing a very powerful database and the reins of an organization that could fully realize that power. Tomorrow, he had to be stopped.

Liz hadn't had to show her hand yet, but she knew that at the solstice party, she wouldn't be able to remain hidden. Everything rode on tomorrow's mission. She needed to make sure all players were on board, and that meant another meeting with Alex.

The redhead shivered as she pulled out her phone and dialed in another coded message, this time to the handsome Russian entrepreneur. Last night, she'd seen him flex the full might of his command. It was scintillating. She ached for him and hated herself for it.

"Get control of yourself, girl!" she said aloud. This wasn't like her. She was never the type to get all wrapped up in boys and crushes. 'Weak in the knees' had never been used to describe any kind of emotion she'd felt. Yet there he was, his strong jaw and sharp blue irises, behind her eyes every time she closed them.

His response chirped back on her phone. Two hours. Her heart trembled. Two hours and she'd see him again…

***

Ilena Petronov watched Alexander read over the gold foil stamped invitation. They'd returned to his Beverly Hills home. Now that his enemies knew he was alive, there seemed to be no point hiding in a dirty motel somewhere, and the mansion's security was high enough to keep them safe for a few days, anyway.

"It's a trap. You know it," she said in Russian. She stood up and paced. She'd been feeling antsy for days now. She needed a cigarette but she'd smoked through her entire store already.

"I know." His Russian accent was stronger when it was just the two of them around. Less British prep school, more Eastern bloc.

"But you're still going."

He nodded solemnly. When he looked up at her, his blue eyes flashed brightly and he smiled in that way of his. "Why?"

"Because it'll be exciting!"

"Alexander, you were nearly killed two days ago! And he'll try again." Sometimes, the man could be so infuriating.

"Relax, my cupcake. I'm still alive."

Ilena rolled her eyes, started to stalk off, but stopped herself. "Maybe we should change the plan. I… I won't be with you next time. I can't be. And… maybe next time, you won't get so lucky."

Alexander's phone chirped. He looked at it rather than respond to her worrisome remarks. When he read the text, he laughed. "I seem to have more than one guardian angel."

"You think Liz can replace me?" Ilena asked, unable to keep the jealousy from her voice. She rose up, smoothing the tight black jumpsuit across her musculature. If he needed a hot little spy, she could fill that fantasy for him. As he watched, she reached for the zipper, nestled between her full breasts, and pulled it down a couple more inches.

"Of course not," he said, setting his phone atop the black invitation and leaning back in his chair. "Although I may need a little more convincing."

***

She undressed slowly. Sensually. Trey leaned against the doorframe, just inside the hotel suite, and watched his wife as though for the first time. So beautiful. Her back was to him as she pulled her blouse over her head. She had such great shoulders. Smooth, delicate shoulders.

Her back was one of his favorite things about her. It was like a sculpture. Venus on a pedestal, every line, sweep, and shadow one of perfection. She shot a coy smile over her shoulder, knowing the effect she always had on him.

Alicia released her blonde hair, letting it fall in a golden cascade of glossy silk. It splashed over her shoulders some of the perfection of that back. She gave a half turn. It was enough. He caught the flash of a breast. The rounded flesh, bathed with a satin sheen. Just a hint. Just a tiny sliver of soft flesh. He grew hard. Yes. Yes, it was enough.

Her skirt was short. Pleated. Saucy. It hardly covered any of her long legs. Legs used to walking up and down runways. Legs used to being flaunted. The skirt dropped down around her heels. Those spiky shoes that gave her a few more inches that she didn't need.

And then she was naked. His beautiful wife was naked.

"Just going to stand there?" she asked, smiling again. She stepped out of the skirt and floated across the room. She was high. She made him feel high. And Trey hated that feeling. The woman he'd fallen in love with had been a strong girl. An intellectual girl, prone to over thinking things. This blonde was…

…was beautiful. She stopped at the bed and turned. Tits and pussy. Tanned, even skin. And little brown nipples that were hard and high on the most perfect pair of breasts he'd ever set sight on.

"Come on, Trey. No more watching."

Trey crossed the room with purpose, opening his shirt as she crawled to the top of the bed and spread her legs. He left his pants at the base of the mattress, kicking them impatiently away as he crawled up with her. His erection dragged along the quilted top sheet, his balls felt heavy.

"God, I missed this," she sighed as he slotted his cock into her velvet pocket. He'd been with several women now in the last month, but none felt quite so right. None felt like home.

"Yessss…" Alicia hissed, running her sharp fingernails along his back. She opened her legs wider and rocked her hips up against him. He penetrated her slowly, easing in and out like they were new to loving. New to fucking.

His wife came quickly, locking a hand behind his neck and drawing his face down between her breasts. Never before had he been able to bring her to orgasm so fast. Like a miniature earthquake. She thrust her breasts up, offering them to his lips as she rocked her head back. A moan bled through her clenched teeth. Out her flaring nostrils.

Trey felt the walls of her pussy ripple and squeeze, nearly ending their afternoon quickly. Nearly. Where Alicia had apparently learned to come quickly, Trey had learned to put it off.

They turned over. Trey lay on his back, looking up at the blonde as she paced herself. He watched those perfect swells bounce with each undulation. Jiggle with each grind. He watched his ramrod-stiff member dip in and out of Alicia's bald snatch.

Trey's breath came quicker. He felt his orgasm finally decide to get up and start making its way toward the door. Alicia knew it, too, in that way that women had. She began to bounce a little higher. She began to fuck him a little faster.

Their skin grew wet. Sweaty. It slapped where it touched. The room filled with smacking flesh and growling lovers. "Ugh, ugh, ugh…" Alicia grew loud. She tossed her hair. Ran fingers through it. Held it back from her head as she moaned and cried.

Trey found a voice. His fingers latched onto her hips, helping her retreat from his cock. Helping her drive back down. Hard. Harder. "Harder, baby!" she cried. Or he did. Fuck, they both did. "Fuck me, fuck me!" a voice barked. His throat was raw. He grunted and groaned as the world faded away in a mist of red and pleasure.

"Yes, Trey. YES! CUM! FILL ME! CUM!"

"AH!" Incredible. Incredible. It was the best orgasm of his life. It was the most raw. The most intimate. It was like he was firing his soul into her twisting, tawny body. This was all that he had. This was everything.

And when it was over, when their bodies were cooling, naked and in one another's arms, he felt… empty.

***

The meet-up had been set beneath an underpass on the shadier side of town. Not the most original, but it was effective enough on such short notice. Liz couldn't trust any of her usual spots; no telling what Vincent had staked out.

She traveled by cab, and when she arrived Mishin's car was already there. She was a little surprised to see that it was something as flashy as a black, stretch limousine, but then again, she wasn't sure what else to expect from the playboy.

Thanking the cab driver, she paid him a hefty tip to forget about the trip before exiting. She waited until he was out of sight before she crossed the street and knocked on the glass of the limo.

The window rolled down and the handsome Russian was there in aviators and an askance fedora. "May I help you?" he asked with the flash of his white teeth.

"Open up, Mr. Timberlake," Liz laughed.

"How can I trust you?"

"I'm about the only person you can trust. Now open up before I draw too much attention!"

The door popped open and he moved inside, making room for her. "Can I fix you anything?" he asked, swirling a martini in his hand. His dark brows bounced over his mirrored sunglasses.

"Do you take anything seriously?" she asked.

"Not many. But that's why all the girls adore me, yes?"

Liz rolled her eyes, refusing to admit that what he said was true. "Let's get business out of the way, first."

"I like the way you phrase things, Ms. Hawkins. So what is this business all about?"

Liz related Vincent's plan, the one he'd given to the rest of C.L.O.A.K. that morning, as well as how he was intending to eliminate all loose ends tomorrow night. "Loose ends mean you, Alex. You and Trey."

The entrepreneur was nearly finished with his martini. "Are you worried for me?"

How could the man be so blasé about this? It was his life on the line, and yet all he did was sit there and grin like an idiot. She forced her gaze out the tinted windows. She couldn't look at his smug face, no matter how handsome it was.

She was surprised to see the city recede behind them as they flew up Route 101. The sun was blazing over the sparkling, blue ocean. It looked like a blanket of diamonds in nature's jewelry store; a place Liz could only ever hope to window shop.

"Where are we going?" the redhead asked abruptly.

"Palm Springs," Alex whispered softly into her ear. Liz jumped, not expecting him to be so close. "I have a place there, off the books. It'll be safe."

"Safe?"

"No one knows about it. Some think it may be prudent to lay low for the next day." As he said it, he looked up into the front of the limo, where Ilena was driving. She didn't acknowledge him. "I think that we all need to relax a little. Conserve our strength and get our minds focused."

He kissed Liz's exposed neck, sending a shiver through her body. His motives, she suspected, had nothing at all to do with conserving strength. She sighed, tilting her head to one side and giving him unfettered access to her throat. He took it, nibbling down her jugular as his hands slipped around her. They cupped her full breasts with the same self-assurance he exhibited in everything.

Outside, the coast continued to roll by. She'd never fucked in a moving vehicle. This could be fun.

Turning, her lips sought his. She pulled him close, tugging on his ears as her tongue snaked into his mouth. He returned the voracious kiss with fervor and she felt her outfit being dismantled. First the front few buttons of her blouse. Then the buttons of her tight, black jeans.

Liz found him hard through the seat of his trousers. Her pussy twitched at the memory of the way he'd taken her the last time. The way he'd dominated her with that cock. She needed him badly. But he had other plans.

He tugged her jeans down her lean thighs, yanking them impatiently over her ankle-high boots. They'd been low enough that she hadn't bothered with panties, something she was now thankful for. Less to remove to get to the good stuff.

Alex pushed her back along the bench seat of the limo. She could still see the ocean whiz by, but she was suddenly more caught up in the man crawling down between her thighs.

Draping her legs over Alex's broad shoulders, she wondered if he ate pussy like he fucked. He leaned forward, piercing her compact lips with his stiff and slippery tongue.

He twisted his head, shoving his tongue into her quivering hole like a little cock. His scruff felt oddly reassuring against her bare skin, although even without it, there was no mistake that the person between her legs was a man.

"Ah!" she cried as he rapidly shifted his focus from slit to clit. She pushed her hips up, lifting her ass off the leather upholstery as she supported herself on his shoulders. His tongue went wild, slashing and swirling with practiced abandon.

Matching the dominating cunnilingus, she began to hump his face. Her palms were damp as they supported her taut body behind her, slipping noisily across the leather as she lifted herself higher. "Fuck ya!" she cried, linking ankles.

Alex's tongue went flat, lapping over her swollen button again and again until she couldn't take it any longer. "Yes! Ugh!" she cried, her voice cracking like the waves just outside the limo windows. Arching her back, she squeezed Alex's pretty-boy face between her thighs like the teeth of a nutcracker and came.

***

"You know, it doesn't go back to the way it was. It can't." Alicia's voice felt weak as she let it out. An exhalation that decided to make a thought. But it was true. Her life was all kinds of fucked up, and for good or bad, it had changed her. She couldn't go back to the way it was. The new Alicia didn't want to.

On his side, his hair rumpled from their love-making session, Trey nodded. His brown eyes were sad. "I know."

"Tomorrow, I need to go back to the new me." She kissed him softly, the merest brushing of lips.

"I know. And… it's important that you're the new you. Just... be careful, OK? You're a smart girl, don't get too caught up in the, you know, the scene." She nodded. She'd let the drugs and sex lifestyle seduce her, and while she enjoyed it, she knew he was right. She had to be careful.

"Will you be there? Tomorrow night?"

He hesitated for the longest time. Was this part of some kind of secret mission of his? Was that hesitation one of secrecy and spyness? "No, I won't." She nodded. "I've been reassigned. Too close, I guess."

"What are you talking about?" she joked, squeezing him against her. They laughed weakly at the joke. "You know, you're not the man I married, either. Maybe after this is over, we could—"

"Don't," he stopped her. "Just don't."

She nodded. "I love you, Trey."

"I love you, too." No more talk. They loved each other one more time. For those last few moments, they turned back the clock: a lifetime ago.

***

Erin Small watched the sun warble on the edge of the horizon, casting orange and red rays where ocean met sky. She held her flute of champagne up, letting light catch in the bubbly liquid before taking her first sip.

In twenty-four hours, the ship on which she was standing would be open. Her grandest entry into the world of club elegance. Nothing would stand in her way. Not Vincent or Alexander or those two agents. Certainly not the FBI. She was setting a course for international waters. This was a party that no one was going to crash.

Erin let the crisp champagne warm her pallet. She was all alone (aside from her tight security team), which is the way she preferred the evenings before the biggest of her parties. She needed time to think before everything got crazy.

Security had been instructed to keep an eye on Alexander and Vincent, who'd both been invited, although they were not to act on anything they saw. Simply report. Her list was secure enough. No one would be able to break the encryption, even if they managed to get to the server.

She wasn't going to let a little intrigue get in the way of her good time. No, tomorrow would be fantastic. The party to end all parties, as she'd started thinking of it. Certainly the party to end Vincent's parties, once and for all.

***

Alexander Mishin's cock drilled down into Liz's buttery opening, her moans hitting the walls with rhythmic ferocity. His body dripped with sweat. The muscles in his arms and legs burned from exertion. And he felt so fucking alive.

They were in the bedroom of his Palm Springs villa. The windows were open, allowing the fresh, night breeze to filter in from the wooded plot of land that surrounded the home. He took a moment to look up, watching the breeze ruffled the still water of his private, manmade lake.

"Fuck me!" Liz cried beneath him, drawing his attention back to the feisty redhead. He clutched her hips harder and obliged.

Liz's tight body was balanced on her shoulders, her legs stretched out above her where she'd wrapped them around his slender hips. Alexander was semi-crouched above her, using his body weight to angle his cock again and again into her smooth perfection. Each thrust was like a mini-squat. His legs screamed.

"AHHH!" he shouted gutturally, vocalizing the burn in his muscles. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, but Liz's burning grey eyes urged him to continue.

He'd already cum twice and his third was a long way off. The multi-orgasmic Liz was another matter. She was close. He could feel it in the walls of her cunt as they rippled around his member.

"FUCK!" he cried, his cock flopped free as he withdrew too quickly.

"Ah no!" the redhead whined before he was able to slot it back into her softness. She was so open. So relaxed. It was exactly the way he'd wanted to get her.

"Are you close?" he asked, feeling a trickle of sweat make its way across his nose.

"Uh huh!" she moaned, tightening her legs around his waist.

"Fuck baby, don't hold back!"

Seizing her full, flopping tits above her, she shut her eyes and came in a loud, ear-piercing wail. Good thing the next house was a mile away, he thought, glancing again out at the lake. Someone would have called the cops by now!

He crashed down beside her, finally allowing his muscles to relax. Lying prone never felt so good, even in his awkward position: on his stomach, ass propped up in the air.

Liz laughed breathily, slapping his wet buttocks as she regained her own energy. "That was good," she huffed.

"The best?"

Again, that laugh. "Sure, Alex. The best."

He smiled, rolling onto his back and reaching for the phone. It connected to one person – the only other person on the grounds. "Ilena, could you bring us some water? A pitcher will be good."

He hung up before she even said hello, although she wouldn't have been expecting anything but.

"You're still hard," Liz said, wrapping her delicate hand around his juice-coated manhood. It looked so small like that. How could a petite girl like her have so much energy?

"I am, but I'm fine with that for now." He didn't stop her as she began to slowly jerk him off; he hadn't had a good hand job since he was a teenager. "I hope you're more relaxed."

"For tomorrow?"

He nodded.

"You still haven't told me your plan," she pointed out. "How are you going to get the list? You didn't seem too upset when you heard that Erin had used the fail-safe."