Call Me Gray Ch. 03

Their breathing grew more excited as their bodies moved together; and soon Gray couldn't maintain the slow pace any longer. His arousal was stalling, needing just the right increase in stimulation to get over the plateau. He began to thrust faster and with more urgency. He switched his grip from the back of her knee to her thigh, drawing her even closer. This deepened the penetration and caused his scrotum to slap against the heat of her body.

"Ooooh, yes," Amanda whispered dramatically, throwing back her head and exposing her jiggling breasts to his passionate kisses. She bucked her pelvis against him, matching and then increasing the rhythm of the thrusts.

Incredible heat radiated from their bodies as the friction pushed Gray toward release. "I'm coming soon," he warned her, leaning back to get the maximum thrust as he slammed into her.

Amanda unclenched her hand from his arm, moving it between her thighs. Her long, slender fingers parted her labia and attacked her clitoris, rubbing at the sensitive bud frantically with immediate results. She began to moan in quick syllabic sounds as she writhed against his strong body, exciting Gray even more.

"Come... come now!" Amanda unexpectedly commanded before letting loose an amazingly loud groan of pleasure. That was all Gray could stand. He buried his shaft deep in her womb and exploded, filling her with his sperm as every muscle in his body clenched.

As his mind cleared, the sounds of their panting filled his ears. He opened his eyes to stare at Amanda's sweat-glistened breasts and leaned in to lick and suckle the salty, pink nipples as his hand sought out and kneaded her buttocks.

"Was that make-up sex?" Amanda asked breathily, sounding awed and amused.

Gray chuckled against her skin, but did not respond. He withdrew from inside her, wishing he was younger and more easily capable of taking her again sooner. Though, after two rough sessions in one day, Gray assumed Amanda would be done for the night anyway, and he was right. They both were feeling tired. So, after a short clean up session, they snuggled under the blankets, exchanging soft kisses and caresses until they finally fell asleep.

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Gray followed Amanda's lead over the next couple of days, looking for what specifically triggered her mood swings. Activities such as shopping, which they did a lot of that first week, had mixed results as she liked selecting items for themselves or the house, but not the rising costs. Also, when it came to time actually spent in the house, she would become fidgety. All the empty space and lack of color depressed her and with the delivery of the new furniture delayed until the weekend, she preferred to be out in the yard, raking leaves or strolling among the flowerbeds, picking stray weeds.

Gray used her escapes outside to paint the kitchen and bedrooms and catch up with the firm, speaking in length with Black, Brown and even Green, who was covering his case load, but giving few helpful answers to his inquiries.

The answer to his job question finally came on Friday morning while he and Amanda were diligently painting the living room walls and ceiling, covering the harsh white with her coveted shade of pale rose. Gray heard a car engine in front of the house and immediately put down his brush. Stepping across the laid plastic, cautiously avoiding obstacles such as paint cans and the ladder, Gray finally reached the window to see Mr. Green strolling up the front walk with a small bouquet of pink and white roses.

"Who is it?" Amanda asked, stepping closer to take a peek. When Gray didn't immediately respond, she asked, "Do we know him?"

Gray was at a loss for words. No one had warned him of a possible visit. He moved to the door, feeling Amanda trail behind and waited a moment for the first chime of the bell before casually opening the door.

Green was dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt without a tie. He flashed a wide grin at Gray in his paint-speckled attire and jumped right into speaking. "Don't be angry. I know you wanted more time to get settled and all, but...the boss was worrying. You know... that you might choose not to come back to work at all."

Letting his expression turn less apprehensive and more cordial toward Green, Gray gave a non-committal shrug. "We're taking it slow," he told him. "There's a lot we haven't talked about yet."

In other words, 'I have no idea why you're here or what you have planned'.

Green nodded, turning his attention to Amanda who wore a somewhat baffled expression. "Good morning, Amanda. I suppose you don't remember me."

There was a pause, during which there was a moment when she just might have registered some form of familiarity for the tall, well-toned young man. Then she shook her head. "No, I don't," she said softly.

Green appeared disappointed by this admission, but smiled reassuringly. "It's alright. We know things have been rough for you two. I'm Aaron. These are for you," he said, handing her the wrapped roses. "I'm glad to see you are doing so much better."

"They're beautiful," Amanda said, lifting the bundle to her nose to sniff their grand fragrance. "That was very kind of you, Aaron."

"You're welcome," he said, pulling off a very genuine-looking expression of relief and caring in Gray's opinion. Then he turned back to Gray. "Can we talk... just for a few minutes? Perhaps take a stroll down the drive?"

Gray looked at Amanda. "Do you mind, Love? It's about work."

Amanda looked puzzled, but agreed. "Don't get lost," she warned playfully as Gray stepped out on the porch with Green. She remained in the doorway, cradling her flowers as the two men walked casually down the long drive flanked by the fire cherry trees.

"Green, what the hell?!" Gray said once he was sure his voice wouldn't carry back to the house. He kept his front toward the street so Amanda wasn't likely to see his annoyed expression either.

"You wanted answers. I'm here to deliver them."

"You couldn't have called?"

"No," Green said, but didn't offer an explanation. He asked with a serious tone, "How do you think Amanda would react if you tell her you two are in the spy business?"

Gray's steps came to a halt. For a moment, he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "What?"

"Brown has agonized over this for days," Green explained. "Your office is being redecorated as we speak. You and Amanda are coming to work for the firm as Mr. and Mrs. Gray."

If Gray had been any more stunned, his mouth might have fallen open. "She stole top secret files from us; and now they want to give her access to more? What are Brown and Black thinking?"

"It's all stimuli to help her regain her memories. She'll only have the basic security clearance anyway."

"Clearance or no clearance won't make a bit of difference when she's managed to hack the system before," he argued.

Green shrugged and shook his head lazily. "It's not my call."

"She was tortured there," Gray added angrily, practically starting a list of reasons this was a terrible idea. "She's going to recognize Brown and Rose- if not White."

"I'm only the messenger," Green said, looking hesitant to argue points. He withdrew his cellular phone from his pocket and offered it to Gray. "Call the bosses if you're so adamant."

Gray reached for the phone, holding it in his hand as he stared at its buttons with uncertainty. Did he really want to make this call? Could they afford to overlook such a serious security risk? Surely he wouldn't be the first person to have voiced a concern, but if Green was here delivering the news, the debate was already over- with out Gray's input.

"This is a bad idea," he had to say one more time.

"It might be just what she needs," Green said, sounding optimistic then changing his tone slightly to show an almost friendly concern for his mentor. "Do you want to be stuck in this gig forever, Gray. Aren't you going crazy?"

Considering the conflict of thoughts and emotions within him, it would have been so easy to lose his temper further with Green, but what would he say exactly? 'I don't want her to remember because then I'll be her enemy again.' No way in hell was he going to admit any such thing- especially to Green, whose loyalty was still being established with only a half-year of employment with the firm.

Shaking his head, Gray shoved the phone back into Green's hand. "I assume they're prepping everyone for this."

Green smiled. "Of course; we're professionals."

Ignoring the younger man's smugness, Gray continued with his questions. "We've got an assignment?"

"I'm sure they'll come up with something," he said, instead of straightforwardly answering no. "When do you want her to start? Monday morning might be best. It'll give us the weekend to finalize the details."

Gray turned and headed back up the drive toward the house. "Fine. Make sure she has all the clearance, documentation and equipment issued an operative. Mr. Red might need your help getting the stuff together."

Green didn't try to catch up with Gray's long strides. "Yes, sir," he said, following behind until he reached his car. He waved at Amanda who was standing in the living room window and got a return wave before climbing in and taking off.

Amanda met Gray at the door as he stepped back inside. He didn't mask his irritation so her expression turned even more concerned. "Well? What's going on?"

"Looks like we need to have an important talk," Gray said seriously, holding her gaze and wondering just how he was going to start this conversation.

The expression on Amanda's face didn't change much during his several-minute-long, improvised explanation. So, Gray wasn't sure if she believed a word of what he'd said. At least some of the information was true.

"Are you going to say something?" he finally asked after a long silence.

Amanda vacated the kitchen chair, one of the few places to sit down in the entire house, and turned to look out into the back yard. She crossed her arms in front of her and stood very straight and still for awhile. Though she might not have noticed it herself, her breathing picked up pace the longer she stood in silence.

"I know it's hard to believe, but that's why I haven't been able to tell you much." Gray actually felt himself growing desperate for her to speak.

Eventually she gave an ambiguous sigh. "I can't be a spy," Amanda said softly, still gazing out the window.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just can't. In the real world people are not spies. It's crazy."

"Some of them are," Gray assured her.

"This is a joke, right?"

"No. You really are a spy." His tone filled with pride as he admitted, "In fact, you are one of the best I've ever seen."

This comment got Amanda's full attention. She turned from the window, looking critical, yet willing to listen. "Really?"

"You literally kick ass, my love. The agency can hardly wait to get you on the payroll."

"Mr. and Mrs. Gray..." she said, testing out the sound of it for herself. Her expression remained uncertain. "What if I can't remember how to do my job?"

"Then I might have to kill you," he said with a rich, teasing tone and keeping his mind from analyzing the irony of his response.

Amanda growled disapprovingly, stepping close to slap gently at his chest. Then she chuckled, which dissolved the anger from her features. "This is ridiculous," she insisted, searching his eyes. "I'd be a fool to believe you."

Gray shrugged. At least part of her believed or she wouldn't be so agitated. That was enough to build on. "Either way, I promised Mr. Green that we'd report for work Monday morning. That is...unless you plan to quit."

Her eyes rolled, her cheeks grew a little pink and Amanda gave him one more playful slap before withdrawing and heading back toward the abandoned paint job in the living room. "Can we get back to this project, please- since it is obvious neither one of us paints for a living?" she asked, inserting some humor of her own as she derailed the discussion completely.

There were a lot of things about working for the agency Gray wanted to tell her, but he didn't have specific instructions from the bosses and knew he shouldn't start down a path that might lead to the wrong assumptions. Besides, she wasn't asking him questions. So, he shouldn't be too quick to bog her down with details- even if he was suddenly feeling eager to share a slice of his real life with her.

He followed her back to the living room, picked up his brush and set right to work again in the attempt to avoid thinking about the forthcoming Monday morning.

They tackled the dining room next, which meant washing out all the paint equipment and laying clean plastic before starting again with a pale, golden yellow. Consequently, the hour was late when they finished cleaning up the second paint mess of the day.

Amanda was standing in the kitchen in just her bra and underwear when Gray returned from storing the equipment in the garage. "Give me your clothes," Amanda said instantly. "We're not going to risk paint transfer all over our house."

Gray shed the momentary irritation at being treated like a child, replacing it with appreciation that she was asking him to appear semi-nude in her presence. Despite his constant thoughts of ravaging her, they'd only made love in the house their first night; and he'd realized that Amanda might have felt obligated to make love because of their 'disagreement'. So, he hadn't pushed her in that direction, but took every opportunity to touch and hold her that was presented to him.

He kicked off his shoes and removed his pants and shirt. Amanda took the cloth articles from him, balling them up and tucking them under her arm. As she turned and headed barefoot for the stairs, Gray noticed dried paint on her arms and in her hair. A quick inspection revealed he had similar spots where he'd stepped a little too close to the wet walls, not to mention the paint spots on his hands.

Amanda had started the shower in the master bathroom by the time he trudged up the stairs and entered the guest room. He placed his watch on the side table and sat heavily on the bed. He was already feeling signs of soreness in his body; and his stomach was protesting that they'd worked all through dinner without stopping to eat anything. Gray leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He rubbed at the tension around his eyes and temples and contemplated if he could manage to stay awake long enough for his turn in the shower. He felt tired and worn down, like he'd just come home from an extremely physical mission. That could mean only one thing. He'd let himself go for too long. It was time to get back in the gym.

It wasn't a sound that grabbed his attention. It was a gut feeling that instantly had Gray on his feet and whipping around to find Amanda standing in the partially-opened closet doorway wearing a smirk along with her underwear. "Gotcha!" She announced with a loud chuckle.

Gray's heart thumped heavily in his chest. She had surprised him, in more ways than one. Now he had to recover quickly. "What... are you doing?" he asked her with strained calm.

"Spying on you," she said, stepping out of the closet and placing her hands on her hips. "If I'd been armed, you'd be a goner for sure."

He stared at those mocking, green eyes and thin, smiling lips and couldn't seem to decide if he was angry, amused or humbled. "You played me," he said with genuine disbelief, and turned his head to acknowledge the sound of the shower in the other room.

Amanda shrugged. "I felt inspired to practice."

"And here I thought you weren't taking me seriously," Gray said gruffly, heading out of the room. Amanda trailed behind him as he entered the master bedroom and continued on to the bathroom where he promptly shut off the running water. He turned back to her, noting that the playfulness had left her features, leaving worry behind.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head in a show of shame. "I shouldn't tease you like that."

Gray knew his irritation was fueled both by his current state of fatigue and his failure to keep his mind on the mission. Apparently he was wrongfully treating this assignment like a form of amusement instead of a serious situation- even though he'd constantly told himself not to make that mistake. Amanda wasn't the innocent housewife, by any means.

"Amanda..." he sighed and looked away, "what we do isn't a game. If we step into that office on Monday acting anything less than professional..."

"I understand," she said abruptly. Her gaze left his, searching for something else to stare at rather than him. There was a moment when she looked like she might cry, but didn't. Stiffening her posture, Amanda took a step back, but was quickly stopped by Gray who reached out to gently grasp her at the back of the neck.

When it came to Amanda, Gray hated being the bad guy. "I'm sorry," he whispered, easing forward into the space between them and leaning close, just short of touching or kissing her. He offered her a hint of a smile before whispering, "You did good. I was a goner for sure."

She smiled, accepting the compliment. "I won't do it again," she promised then pressed her mouth against his in an urgent kiss that became more seductive and greedy.

Gray pulled gently out of the lip-lock to inquire, "Are we going to do this every time we fight?" His tone showed it was a genuine question- not that he minded making up in this fashion.

"I don't know. It seems to work so far." She started kissing his neck and shoulder, using similar pressure techniques that he'd used on her before to heighten sensation. Logic told him to break up the fun, yet curiosity and the longing for her touch got the better of him. Gray shifted back against the counter to help keep his balance as all his blood seemed to slowly drain to his feet. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the side cabinet as it grew heavier on his neck.

God, she's good, he thought, reeling in the rapture of her lips, teeth and tongue working on his flesh while her hands held him at the waist and lightly dug in with her fingernails. It was a sensual contrast of pleasure and pain that had a powerful effect on him. Coupled with lack of food and the lingering fatigue, her efforts were incapacitating.

"Gray?"

"Hmmmm?"

"You're not going to faint are you?"

He heard himself chuckle, but it sounded distant. He forced his eyes open and noted that his vision was darkened and fuzzy. Perhaps he really was going to faint- a realization that seemed very frightening to him at that moment.

"Gray?"

He clutched the edge of the counter, keeping still so his head could clear.

"Wow, I didn't expect that to work so well on you."

"It's very effective when executed well," he said groggily, fully aware that he was in no condition to fend her off, should Amanda suddenly feel inspired to try some other aspects of an operative's training.

Amanda laughed openly and nestled against his front, wrapping her arms around his neck and nibbling softly at his ear. Her fingers splayed across his scalp, twisting and tangling in his hair. "I don't know what's gotten into me tonight," she said, sounding giddy and exhilarated with the fix she'd put him in. She found the scar on his scalp along his temple and traced the length and thickness of it with her index finger, but didn't comment on the discovery.

Gray knew it would take several minutes for him to feel better. He needed to eat, bathe and sleep very soon. "You're enthusiastic. Can't fault you for that," he muttered, softly pulling her hand out of his hair. Then with an attempted smile, he added, "I have a feeling you're going to keep me on my toes from now on."

Amanda did not show any sign of mercy for his predicament. Her grip on him remained firm and her nails still dug at his flesh. "I'd prefer you flat on your back beneath me," she purred in a tone saturated with strong desire. She had him forcefully pinned against the counter, her stomach and hips pressed against his and her full breasts seemingly right under his chin. "You're not too tired for a make-up session, are you?" She grinned wickedly. Her stare was full of lust with a gleam of animalistic hunger.