An Assassin's Life Pt. 05

I quickly connected to Dixie's encrypted email, forwarded the message to my phone, and deleted all traces of the conversation, but before I did, I saw: There are two...

Winny was starting to walk back into the shop as I forwarded the info to Mariya just in time, telling her to meet me in my room in 20 minutes. The quick response was, "No, mine in a half hour."

I helped Winny do the final straightening up of her outfit, grabbed the brush from her hand and fixed the back of her hair, spun her around and squeezing her butt, gave her a soft and loving kiss."

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"You bet I am!" came the reply.

I gave her a playful slap on the bottom. "Good, but Winny, I've got to go." I held out my phone. "Business calls. I've got to go back to my room.

She gave me a pout but understood. After a few more kisses and caresses, I said, "What if I came in tomorrow, enjoyed your friend's band, and maybe who knows? Maybe we can figure out how to sneak out later..."

And with a kiss, I was out of there, heading to Medea.

Chapter 2

She was staying at The Hilton Hoodoo, the nicest hotel in the village of Moab, in one of the luxury casitas, of course, towards the back of the property. I drove around the back looking for the self-park hoping the access was street level or the garage would be tall enough for my truck, and sure enough, there was a black metallic Vette parked by the valet station.

I laughed as I parked.

At the front desk, I gave my name and told them a room key had been left for me. It was. I took it.

Standing in front of the casitas, I checked it out. It was a two story adobe with a generous patio and what looked like a sizable balcony off of probably one of the bedrooms. I knocked and then used the key card to let myself in.

"Hello?"

No one answered. I stepped in and looked around.

The Hoodoo Hotel was new and looked it. The living area was immaculate, with a large and nicely decorated living room. A brick fireplace dominated one wall with a 60" wide-screen to one side. The couch was well-constructed and highly comfortable.

Walking around shouting "hello," I discovered a fully equipped kitchen, a separate dining area, and a nicely appointed powder room. A staircase in the corner led upstairs.

The two doors I assumed were the bedrooms indicated the second one was the largest. I knocked on the door and stepped in.

"Hello? Mariya?" Nothing except for another very nice room, a king-size bed, lots of mirrors, giant glass doors leading to the large balcony I saw from the outside, a pile of black clothing on a chair by the bathroom door, and the sound of a shower running.

I went to the bathroom and stepped in to find Mariya in the shower with her hair wet and pulled back and a leg up on the built-in bench shaving her legs.

"Mariya?"

"Oh good, you're finally here. Get your ass over here!"

It wasn't the first time I'd seen her in a shower - we had showered together many times - actually, we had fucked in the shower many times, including occasional water sports, which is best done in a shower.

It wasn't even the first time I had stood in a bathroom and watched her shower, but there was something about watching her right then, doing the most common and innocent of female grooming, shaving her armpits and legs, that for some reason was, especially erotic and arousing. Despite all of today's prior activities, it started to feel a little tight and uncomfortable in my pants.

She finished with one leg and started with the other, lathering her leg with the soap in her left hand and shaving with the razor in her right.

"Did you get a chance to look at the info? she asked as the soap and razor started grooming at the top of her inner thigh right below her snatch.

"No, I just had the time to send it to you before the barista cornered me."

She paused from the leg and looked at me.

"You fucked her."

"What?"

"You fucked her."

"I had to misdirect her attention somehow."

"So you used that constantly horny cock of yours. Gawd!! Men and their dicks." She laughed.

"Whatever, it did the job. Now, the about that info."

She turned towards me, opening her legs a bit, and after soaping up some more, went to the back of her thigh, shaving from high in her crotch and carefully down with numerous strokes.

I subtly readjusted downstairs and started secretly flipping the head of my cock with my thumb as Medea moved to the inside of her other leg again.

I cleared my throat. "Err, Dixie's message? Are you going to tell me?"

She turned towards me, making a big show of spreading her legs as wide as she could, pushing her pelvis forward, looking down at her pussy and slowly playing around with her lips, and "inspecting" it. She then started to shave her pubes, carefully pulling the razor down from the top of her pierced clit, going back and forth on her labia, and then carefully navigating around her inner lips and down her taint to her rosebud.

"They sent the "Gay Gunsels after you."

She had moved to the other side of her pussy and began again.

"Huh?" By now, I was a bit distracted.

"You heard me. They paid for the gay crew to nail you, or as I like to call them, the Quickdraw Queers.

"Err, right. Some east coast guys."

Medea turned around and rapped on the glass with the razor. "Hey! Are you paying attention at all, or have I gotten you so hard you're playing with yourself?!" She looked down and could see the outline of my hardon. "Come on, Chimera! I'm talking about the guys who are trying to kill you."

"Right! What did Dixie say?"

"Jax! That's what I'm trying to tell you. They sent the gay crew after you, Joey Debarto, and Skipper. You know, the queer couple. They're moving up from the C-list to the B-list."

"Okay. Once again, Dixie comes through. Fuck, I've been in my own world so goddamn long, I'm not sure I know these guys."

"The bosses must have thought it was a loser assignment. One of those needles in a haystack kind of things. Joey is the shooter, and Skipper does the setup and acts as lookout, but I hear tell that he is more accurate and deadly than Joey ever will be. But Joey is the top, and I guess that makes him the shooter," if you catch my drift," she winked. "So that's that," and she turned around and started making sure her ass crack and asshole were shaved bare and daisy fresh.

"If they didn't send the A-team, that would explain why the kill shot was so off-target." I watched her work for a minute or two, carefully shaving the scant hair or two around her rose. Medea had a world-class ass, and it was more than worth the price of admission.

She turned back to face me, and I continued, "But that still leaves the question of how did they find me. I know I left no tracks. I've changed my ID multiple times, also my cell phone and a couple have been burners. I've only used cash, no cards, and my clothes, hair, and look have changed more than once. This is the first time I've looked like myself in a while, and the mob isn't in Moab."

"Maybe that hooker you killed in, what's that town?"

"WaKeeney, Kansas. I doubt that. I high-tailed it out of there. Changed identities, transportation including trucks, and if I had left any kind of trail, these jokers could have found the cops would have beaten them here."

And we both said at the same time, "It has to be the money!!"

Mariya said, "There has to be some kind of tracer in the money."

"That's the only thing it could be, even though I've been through it multiple times with a fine toothcomb."

"Obviously, some of the teeth were missing,"

"You can say that again." I thought for a moment. "First thing, the satchel has to be stashed somewhere else until we get these guys, and then we have to find the tracer and send it on a wild goose chase."

Medea stepped out of the shower with a towel busy at work, and picked up her phone from the vanity. "Here are the pics. The short one is Joey."

I was looking at a scrawny wimp and a good-looking stud. Interesting couple. Joey was short, thin, longish brown hair but had intense beady eyes. His partner, Skipper, was the total opposite. He looked like he stepped off of a Beach Boys album cover. About four inches taller, tanned good looks with sweeping blonde bangs and a wide smile. You could tell he worked out. Not Arnold Schwarzenegger, but fit. My guess was Joey blended into the shadows as someone nobody noticed, and Skipper enjoyed the same "he's attractive" anonymity that I did.

"Got 'em. Any thoughts for driving these guys out of the weeds?"

Without hesitating, she said, "You've got to come out of the woodwork and make yourself a target."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that."

"You know it's the best way. You've got tonight and tomorrow. Let everybody know you're here. Start being the big shot, free-spending, high-rolling party boy we both know you really are," and she smiled.

"Drinks on me?"

"Right. Drinks on you."

Chapter Three

"Drinks on me!!" I shouted to everyone in Woody's tavern. I waved my arms towards the bartenders, "Put this round on my tab," and a loud chorus of cheers rocked the joint.

Woody's was jumping -- well, it was always jumping - but now even more. I looked around the room out of curiosity. (By now, I knew the escape routes and the best places for cover if returning fire.) I didn't see Medea, but I knew she was close.

The bar was packed with every type, from hikers to backpackers to ATV folks returning from a day of fun cruising Canyonlands National Park, to folks who went back to their campsite or motel, cleaned up, and were now in flannels and jeans, to out-of-date yuppies and preppies. There was even a blonde dude at the end of the bar with a sweater loosely draped over his shoulder like the '80s trying to get his date a drink.

But no Joey or Skipper. I was sure of that. Probably outside somewhere waiting. That's what I'd do.

It was standing room only except for the small dance floor where no one was drunk enough yet to dance to the shitty band playing in the corner. I hoped the band tomorrow at Winny's was better than this one!

The video games were packed, and so were the pools tables, with Dawn and I playing on one of them in our 8 Ball grudge match for someone's ass. Her posse was around us, cheering her on.

Nancy, the cute brunette, was against the wall quietly enjoying the scene, Julie, the blonde-haired southern belle, was dolled up, looking fine, and drawing a lot of attention at the end of the table, some of it seemingly unwanted, and lusty Stephanie was hanging on our end with apparently no ability to keep her hands off my chest, ass, and crotch whenever possible.

I'd won the first game by running the table and sinking the 8 in the corner.

"That was just a lucky shot," Dawn said, punching my arm.

"Oww, no, it wasn't. Could you call it and hit the corner pocket, banking it twice off the sides? Get out of here!"

She walked over to me and gave me a long, slow, deep kiss to whoops and catcalls from her girls. After a sensuous caress of my package, she flippantly quipped, "Wait 'til the next game, sweetheart." Dawn pointed to the table. "Rack 'em up."

"Gladly, cause after I win this one, your ass is mine, and I have plans for it."

I gave her a quick one on the lips to go with the ass squeeze under the pleated sundress she was nearly wearing. Thanks to her thong, I got nothing but butt cheek, and a fine butt cheek it was.

Dawn was using all the currency God gave her to distract me and win this game. Teasing me with the sundress' very low neckline and a pink half-cup demi-bra that pushed her tits up and showed off those amazing nipples. Around her neck, she was wearing the same gold chain but different earrings with a lot of sparkle meant to blind me, light blue eyeliner, great tasting strawberry gloss lipstick, and white canvass tennies.

"Hey, thanks for the drinks, man!" a bunch of hiker-types shouted across the room. I lifted a glass to them in a toast just as a heavy glass shattered on the other side of the room, and a loud "Motherfuck!" was heard.

Dawn looked around the tavern and whispered, "Is Medea here. I was hoping to see her."

"Medea will come in and out of here whenever she wants, and no one will notice. Same way, if she wanted to kill someone, no one would know, and she'd disappear at will."

She was anxious. "Can you find her if needed?"

"Yes, don't worry, she wants you alive and is out there somewhere protecting us. Relax and enjoy getting your butt whipped." I laughed. "Or should I save that for later tonight?"

Which drew another hard punch in the shoulder.

I casually looked around the room again to find a hint or two of Medea's presence, but she was too good. There was a reason why she was crowding me as the best in the world.

This wasn't the first time I had been intentionally made a target. Sometimes that's the best plan, and hopefully, it works, and you survive. However, it was significantly more comforting knowing that Medea was covering my ass.

And speaking of asses, I looked at Dawn and said, "What are we waiting for?

She gave me a little tickle under the chin, saying, "Uh-uh, sweetie, it's my turn to break. Rack 'em."

I looked down at her rack, savoring it for a moment, went down to the other end of the table, and grabbed for the triangle.

As I placed it on the felt, a strong hand grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, man! It's our turn" I looked around to see a large, bearded, outdoorsman type wearing a knit cap with another strapping lumberjack dude behind him.

They were two of the guys crowding around Julie, giving unwanted attention. "I'm sorry," I said. "What?"

"That's our quarter on the table." He pointed. "See it, asshole?!"

I turned, sizing him up and down. About my height, at least 20 pounds on me and looked as if he could bench 250lbs, maybe 260.

"Friend," I said. "I'm not looking to start any trouble here. Look over there, we have two more quarters. We are in the middle of a best two out of three game match."

The friend stepped up. "We don't give a shit. Don't you know the rules here? We put our quarter down. We've got next. Wait like everyone else, dickhead."

"Hey! Didn't you guys get the drinks I bought? Would you like another?" I pointed towards the bar in a misdirection as I silently stomped on the friend's instep, bringing him down to his knees.

His buddy rushed to him. I looked down at shit-for-brains on one knee in front of me. "Dude! Maybe you don't need that other drink."

He pointed at me, "You did this, fucker."

"No, man. I didn't" I turned to the room, thinking, "target." Make myself a target."

I shouted out, "Hey everybody! This dude is trying to start a fight, and I just bought everyone drinks! Is that how you say thank you in this joint? Help me out here. Who wants another drink? " and the room turned towards us as the bouncers came roaring in to escort them both outside.

I twirled my fingers at the bartenders, indicating another round for all. Looking at Julie, I mouthed, "Are you okay," and she nodded yes.

I turned to Dawn, "Okay, let's play pool. Your ass is mine, my sweet potato pie," and I gave her a lecherous look as I racked them up 8 ball in the center.

Dawn slid over to me, putting her arms around my waist, and pressed her crotch hard into mine. "You did something to that guy, didn't you," she said as she ground her pussy into my stiffening cock.

"No, not me."

"Okay, we'll go with that..." and sashayed to the other end, chalked up her cue, bent over, putting her pert ass in the air and unfairly showcasing her cleavage, nailed the 1 into the corner pocket.

"Yay! Yellow. Solids. My lucky ball," and she sunk a quick three, including a nasty shot off of the far end into the left corner pocket. Fortunately, she shanked one, leaving me with a few choice shots.

I chalked up and blew a blue cloud into the air. "Eat my dust," and sunk the 12 into a side pocket.

I patted the corner next to me, "15 right here," and nailed it, leaned over the end of the table, sighted in on the cue ball in the middle of the table, and said, "10 over there," and just as I took my shot, Stephanie reached through my wide open legs and grabbed my junk from behind.

"Hey!" and I missed the shot. "What the fuck?" I said to a bunch of "innocents," leaning away from the table, which was then run by Dawn sinking the 8, showing off with the cue behind her back.

"Now we're tied," smiled Dawn shaking her mop of blonde hair with a big smile. She looked me up and down, put a hand on my shoulder lightly making me pirouette, grabbed my butt, and said, "Get ready to bend over," to loud hoots and yelps from Stephanie and the rest of the posse.

"In your dreams. Rack 'em," I said this time, meaning business.

Unlike the other two, this game was neck and neck, with both of us making great shots and missing layups. This time I had the solids, and it got down to my red 3 against the 8 in front of the corner pocket and Dawn's striped 10 leaning on the far right cushion with the cue ball about 8" to my ball's right.

It was her turn. She hit the shot perfectly, angling precisely on the ball and the cushion, sending the 10 straight down the edge into the pocket. Smiling triumphantly, she looked the table over, said, "Safely," and softly hit the cue ball over to nestle against the other side, leaving me in a precarious position.

She couldn't win without sinking the 8 ball, and it would be damn near impossible for her to do that without also sinking mine, and I'd win. On the other hand, the way the cue ball was positioned took away all of my angles to try to hit my ball and maybe sink it in the far side pocket without knocking the 8 ball in and losing the game and bet to Dawn.

I spent some time walking around the table, looking at all of the lines and angles, milking the moment for what it was worth. I stopped on the far side.

"I think I've got the winning shot, and your ass is grass." I bent over and, with my long arms positioned my cue stick across the table for a straight-on shot to my red 3. I took a few practice strokes with my cue, lining it up until I was content, and let it fly.

"Fuck-an-A," Dawn said again as we strolled back to my hotel in the warm Moab summer night, along with the other tourists doing the same. "I mean fuck-an-A!! I beat your ass, hotshot, and now it's mine."

She shook her large shoulder bag that I was sure contained a leather harness and some kind of girlcock. And beat my ass she did after I hit my last shot and missed it by a skosh and knocked the 8 ball in instead.

"Okay, for the umpteenth time, you got the best of me. You won. Alright, already?!"

She pushed me up against a wall -- the celebratory drinks maybe getting the better of her -- got on her tiptoes, grabbed my shoulders, and said, "No! It will never be enough. Say it again."

"You beat me, you little blonde-haired, large breasted pool shark. Okay?" and I pulled her into me for a boob-squishing kiss reaching under her sundress right there on US 1-91 and caressed one of her firm, young cheeks.

A slight noise came out of nowhere down to the side. I threw Dawn behind me and had my Glock out in a flash. Taking off a black balaclava, Medea stepped out of the shadows.

"I'm happy to see your reaction time hasn't diminished," she said.

"Thanks," I said, holstering the Glock as I helped Dawn up.

Medea came up to me and gave me a long deep kiss and then grabbed Dawn around, pulled her close, and did the same. Dawn returned it with passion. Theirs went on longer. A lot longer.

"Umm. Shall we start to mosey back down the street, ladies?

Medea gave me a peck on the cheek. "Sorry, carried away," and the three of us started cruising back to my hotel.

By the time we made it into my room with all of the touching, caressing, groping, and hotchatting going on, I was surprised we simply didn't get it on in the street. It was sizzling hot in the room and I had the air conditioner blasting.