Assassin Ch. 08

As usual, the beach was not yet crowded at nine in the morning. About 50 miles north of the madness of South Beach in Miami, Delray Beach was lightly littered with the local beach crowd. Megan was on her stomach and elbows, trying to read a thriller on her Kindle. She did not sleep the night before and just could not concentrate.

She gave up after about ten minutes, returning the Kindle to her backpack. She turned to her face the sky, the sun now pleasantly hidden behind the clouds. Putting on her oversized sunglasses, she closed her eyes, images from the previous night clouding into her consciousness. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, she simply could not force the memory of her hours of humiliation out of her mind.

Anyone walking along the beach would see a blonde long-legged woman lying down on a rainbow colored towel. But almost nobody would look closely at her wrists. If they had done so, they would have noticed the deep marks left behind by a pair of handcuffs.

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Only a few hours earlier, her wrists were tightly locked behind her. Rocky, Chuck's bodyguard, had made sure her wrists were rotated so her palms were facing outwards before clicking the cuffs. He kept squeezing tighter until the cuffs ate into her flesh, then her bones.

"Nothing personal. It's just business, okay?" Rocky had heard that she was dangerous. He was trying to do a thorough job before bringing her to the basement, where his boss Chuck was waiting.

But Rocky had not done his job thoroughly. Although her wrists were handcuffed behind her, she could easily slide them under her butt, down the back of her knees, and over her toes. If she managed to move her wrists to the front, picking the handcuff lock would be easy, as long as she could get to sharp metal object. For example, the prong on the buckle of Rocky's watch could be adapted to be a lock pick. In fact, she was skillful enough to turn even a tooth pick into a handcuff picking device.

Even if she had no time to pick the lock, she could still be fatal with her cuffed hands in front of her. Rocky would not last a single minute if she were to wrap the chains connecting the cuffs around his thick neck. If Rocky were truly professional, he would have snapped a second pair of cuffs on her elbows, forcing them together and making it impossible for her to hook her arms to the front. If she had her elbows cuffed behind, even if she somehow managed to pick at her wrist cuffs and free her wrists, she would not be able to pick at the elbow cuffs.

But she could not take advantage of Rocky's sloppy actions. She had no freedom to act on her thoughts because she needed critical information from Chuck. Perhaps Chuck told Rocky about her deep and complicated feelings for Fabian. Her strong motivation to avenge the death of Fabian bound her more than any physical restraints would have done.

With her wrists firmly secured, Rocky felt a surge of hormones through his veins. Rocky lowered his voice and took a step nearer. "Turn around and face me, slowly."

She did as she was told. She dragged her stilettos in a semi circle, leaning against the brick wall. Her halter dress was completely backless, exposing her shoulder blades to the rough edges of the connecting cement between the bricks. With her four-inch spiked heels, she stood eyeball to eyeball with Rocky. Unused to a woman's direct challenge, Rocky blinked first. He camouflaged his nervousness with a cough, looking down and balling his right fist.

"What else?" She asked.

"Strip down to your underwear so I can search you."

"I would if I could. But my fingers are behind. Besides, I am not wearing any underwear." The thin straps of her black denim dress were tied to the back of her neck, which she could not reach. The dress had a front metallic zipper, which she also could not reach with her cuffed hands behind her.

He grinned and pulled down the zipper midway, stopping at her navel. Completely removing the dress would be tricky. He would have to go all the way down until the zipper ended mid-thigh. He would then have to unhook the slider from the opposite zipper, separate the two sides of the front. Next, he would have to untie the knot behind her neck. The dress would slide down her arms but still hang above her cuffed wrists. The only way to completely remove it was to cut it off with a knife or scissors.

Rocky knew that his boss preferred to have women presented to him fully dressed. It was enough for his purpose to have the zip halfway down. Twisting the dress one side, then another, he exposed her breasts one at a time, examining them closely, as if she could hide anything under her nipples. He ran his fingers inside the dress, apparently attempting to detect any hidden objects sewed onto the inside fabric.

Satisfied with her upper body, he re-tied the knot behind her neck, then push the zip up, stopping it between her nipples, pushing the slider down to lock it in place. The new zipper position was a few inches lower than before the search, the cold metal resting on her chest bone.

"Turn around," he ordered. Before waiting for her response, he gripped one elbow and compelled her shoulders to twist, her heels knocking into each other as her waist and legs followed a split second later. She stumbled and found her balance by pressing her right cheek against the bricked wall.

"Hike up your dress. You were carrying a gun the last time. Where is it?"

"I am unarmed this time." She had to bend her knees so her fingers were low enough to tug at the helm. He went down on one knee to look between her legs. He slappeded the insides of her thighs outward to indicate she should spread her legs farther apart. She complied. When her ankles were three feet apart, he inserted two fingers into her vagina, circling around and scraping the walls. Satisfied that there were no hidden electronics or weapons, he removed the fingers and stood up.

"Turn around and suck my fingers clean. I am sure you enjoy the taste of your own cunt." He pronounced the last word slowly, sticking his tongue out at her. Again, she meekly obeyed. When she parted her lips to accept the fingers, he pushed them hard to the back of her throat. She choked and fought back the gag reflex. She had to use every measure of her will power to suppress the urge to bite and dig out his eyes.

"Yummy." She purred as he removed his fingers and wiped them on her hair.

"Turn around and let's do the same for your butt hole. You should know the drill this time." She had turned quickly to avoid being manhandled. Still, he yanked her by the hair and pushed her face against the wall.

"Spread those legs, whore." He continued as he inserted a finger, than another. "You seem to have a tight ass." This time, she wanted to rip out his dick and shove it down his throat.

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The "search" took an hour to complete. By the time she was taken to the basement, her thigh muscles were shaking visibly. She was marched to the middle of the basement, where Chuck had been waiting.

"Kneel," Chuck was seated on a large comfortable sofa filled with micro-fiber materials, his legs crossed and fingers interlocked behind his head.

She should not have hesitated. Rocky gave her only a split second to respond before kicking the back of both her knees in rapid succession. Her knees made a thumping sound as they hit the hardwood floor. Rocky had moved out of her view, but she could still smell him behind her.

"I am sorry Rocky took so long to do his job of searching you. Sometimes, my men enjoyed their job too much."

"No need to apologize. I hope I made his day."

"Let's cut to the chase," Chuck removed his belt. "The more information you want, the more you have to pay on your knees and on your back."

"What's the matter with you? Can't you handle a woman on top?"

"I can handle any woman in any position. But you have a dangerous reputation. Your hands are going to be handcuffed or tied or chained in some fashion." Chuck had removed his shirt and pants. He handed them to Rocky, who took them and headed up the steps, probably to the laundry. She was now alone with Chuck.

"Give me a name?"

"Not so fast. You have not done any work with your mouth yet."

"Come on. Just a name. I saved your life. You owe me that much."

"I owe you enough to let you see me. Do you know how risky it is for me to be associated with you? There are people looking for you all over?

"Who?"

"Powerful people with international connections. People out of your league. It is best for you not to know."

Somehow, as he spoke, his cock grew larger and nearer to her. She parted her lips to receive it. It was one of the few levers she had with him, perhaps the only one. They were quiet for almost five minutes, closing their eyes and moving slowly, savoring the moment. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Motherfucker!" he yelled as his thrusted deep into her, his organ expanding in her mouth. He pushed it as deep as it would go, filling every square inch in her mouth, his balls bouncing on her chin, his pubic hair obstructing her eyes, letting her breathe only through her nose, partially obstructed by his thick curly hair. Without warning, he withdrew completely from her mouth.

"I need to know and I'll take my chances. I am a big girl. Tell me a name and you will have the best sex of your life tonight." She spoke as quickly as possible, not knowing if her mouth would soon be fully occupied again.

"Let me give you the name of the less dangerous man. His first name is Alan." Chuck zipped up his pants and nodded to his bodyguard. "If your want more information, you would have to come to join me at my yacht."

She was mad that he was making it difficult. But she had no choice. She needed a last name to go with Alan. Or at least a country or affiliation. Alan was not exactly a rare name.

"Are you coming?" He repeated. "Rocky will bring you if you are interested."

"I will come. But how long is this going to take?"

"You can leave any time you want. Any time you decided you have any information. Although there will be a professional crew on my yacht, only Rocky and I will enjoy your services." Chuck winked at Rocky.

Rocky yanked her up by her elbows, took the keys from his pocket, and unlocked the handcuffs. She rubbed her wrists to return the circulation to her numbed fingers.

"See you at the yacht." Chuck knew she had no choice but to follow. Handcuffs were unnecessary because he knew she cared about Fabian.

As Chuck drove the short distance across the bridge to the intracostal to where his 60-foot yacht was, he thought about how weak Megan had allowed herself to be. Although she could kill him with her bare hands, she was powerless and had to follow him because of she wanted to avenge Fabian's death. Chuck could not understand why she would make herself vulnerable this way. He chalked it up to the weakness of being a woman.

Megan drove a black BMW 328, with Rocky riding shotgun. Rocky did not bring a gun and was totally unarmed. She was free to go anywhere. But she followed Rocky's instructions to the T. In fifteen minutes, they were parked in an exclusive country club in Palm Beach.

"Welcome," Chuck held out his hand to help Megan balance herself on her four-inch heels. The two men stood on both sides of her, holding her elbows gently and leading her into the bowels of the yacht, down the steps where they would not be visible to anyone on land.

Chuck tossed her a set of stringed bikinis. "Put this on."

She unzipped herself in front and stepped out of the black dress. With her eyes fixed on the floor, she nonchalantly put on the red bikini top and black bottom. When she looked up, she saw that only Chuck was with her. She felt movement. Rocky was taking the cruiser out at a steady pace. A half hour later, they had left the calm waters of the intracostal and were out in the ocean. She would be taken to international waters before the entertainment would begin.

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Continued in the next chapter ...