Catherine Needed Him Pt. 02

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Suddenly She is a Biker Girl.
9.3k words
4.76
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/02/2018
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Chapter 4

Chris drove carefully on the winding road down from his cousin's cabin. Catherine was napping again in the seat next to him. She was acting like a Marine recruit in basic training, he decided. Sleep deprived and taking every opportunity to catch up. He went over what she had said as part of 'fessing up.' There were still holes in her story, but the thing that impressed him was the incredible body.

Once she had let her guard down in the trees, it didn't take him long to notice the body wasn't just college athlete fit. No, the body was agent trained and tuned. What did that mean?

She sleepily reached out and grasped his hand, keeping her eyes closed. "Which apartment are we going to?"

"Mine. I have to beat the no sex thing out of you."

"I was kidding."

"You are the loveliest sleeping beauty I have ever met."

"Hmmm."

At my house, I eased her out of the seat and insisted on carrying her to my door. She was still kissing the side of my neck as her feet touched the floor.

"We are supposed to be working, not falling back into bed together."

She didn't get any choice and shortly found herself cuddled with me under my blanket. "It's just us against the world, isn't it?"

We had our clothes on, but I slid my hand down the back of her pants and squeezed gently. Her leg was over mine, the rest of her half on top. "Last night, being tight with you was the best way to think I have ever had."

"Silly man, I bet you lie there only thinking sex. Look where your hand is right now."

I pulled her head up by the long hair and kissed her. "Wench, you have many charms. You've seduced me with your tricks. Now your fine mind is going to get us out of this jam we are in."

"I thought you were going to say we could screw our way out of it." She shook with laughter and reached to trace my lips with her tongue.

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. She put her head down and lay quietly for a few minutes. It was a surreal moment. Tight again with a woman I hadn't even known a couple of weeks ago.

"You can't sleep your way out of this, either." She was alternately licking and biting my ear. The pants were coming off if she didn't stop that.

"Isn't there something in the agent training manual about maintaining emotional distance from members of the opposite sex?"

She giggled. "That was written before gay rights."

"You have to wrap yourself in a cocoon of denial, suppressing every instinct?"

She rubbed her sex on my thigh. "Suppression doesn't seem to be in your vocabulary."

Shortly, we were naked and her body was welcoming me. We squished together and she laughed. "This is going to get us killed if we don't look out."

I didn't want to think about dying at that moment. Life was good, very good. She humped at me and moaned. I concentrated on a quick, hard fuck that brought us both off. The agent body was alive under me, twisting, bucking, heels on my bum. My cock was enjoying the contest, plunging deep and pulling way back.

Her scream took us both over the top. The thought passed through my mind that sex with her wasn't getting stale. We were still learning about each other. Learning in a very, very nice way.

In the shower, she was emotional. "Damn, Chris, you do something to me. I'm almost crying that was so good."

Then in my lap, a towel around her head. "Let's go to my place. I'll make sandwiches and we will try to stay out of bed. Even aside from our agent problems, I have a pile of work to do. Your girlfriend is not home free yet."

In the car, I said, "We shouldn't put it beyond them to bug our apartments."

She pulled my hair and asked, "Do they care if you have a girlfriend, and if it is me?"

"I'm sure as hell not going to pretend with another woman."

"You are not going to take me to the park for sex?"

"The clumsiest PI would find us out in a minute. Your screams are a terrible giveaway."

She cuffed me. "I am going to squeeze your balls until you scream as loud as I do." Her look was dark until she laughed.

In the kitchen, she babbled a constant stream of small talk about work. I rolled my eyes and grunted in response, playing the tall, dark and silent boyfriend. Now she was rolling her eyes.

Outside in her backyard, she quietly asked, "Where do we get to talk about our issues?"

I munched on the sandwich. "Your boyfriend is going to develop insomnia and take you for moonlight walks."

"I like that. The sleepy girlfriend and the wideawake boyfriend."

She settled in my lap and closed her eyes. I kissed the tip of her nose. "Why aren't we taking this more seriously? You said at the cabin we could get killed."

Her arms went around my neck and her lips found mine.

"I had six months of training. Six really hard months. Drill sergeant hard. I was always in the top ten. I'll bet you were too, when you did those death marches in Seals' training."

I resisted the impulse to take her inside to the bed and pressed her tighter to my chest.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "There is something I haven't told you. I'm an orphan. My parents were killed in a car accident and their friends took me in and adopted me when I was two years old. I love them dearly, but there are still moments when I feel terribly alone. One reason I'm an agent is because it helps my sense of belonging and of being strong enough to take on the world by myself."

Oh wow. This time I didn't resist the impulse and walked to her bedroom. When I had us cuddled together under the bed cover, she said, "You know something else, you are the only guy I have ever felt safe with. That's probably why I fall asleep on you all the time. When you have me in your arms like this, I don't have any worries."

She was quiet so long I thought another nap was happening, but she poked her head up and said, "There's another something else. You are the only guy I have ever been orgasmic with." She wiggled her butt under my hand and chuckled down in her throat.

"So, you don't have an agent in here, you have an orgasmic clinging vine basket case!"

I licked her ear. "I'll take her. I'll take her. I love you just the way you are."

After a few minutes, she sat up, wiping her eyes. "You mean that, don't you?"

I nodded, and she said, "I think that requires figuring out how to get these bad guys and stay alive too."

Leaning against the headboard, I said, "Guess what? I just had a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself. You are about to be the owner of a racing motorcycle."

"Oh god, really? I don't know anything about riding one."

"My cousin is a Ducati dealer in Sacramento. And a big wheel in the regional biking club. It's the perfect cover for us. You tell the people at work that I took you for a bike ride and you have fallen for me and for the bike and are going to get your own! Every evening after work, we come home, change and go off on the bikes. Strangely, we don't come back until five in the morning."

She hopped around the room and fixed me with a hard stare. "I am going to be a biker girl? With leathers and a tattoo? You rent an out of the way dump, and I get fucked every night!"

She launched herself at me, landing hard and kissing hard. "Damn, I like your ideas."

She lay in my arms. "It's not easy to tail us on bikes, is it?"

"Yes, and hard to bug them, especially if the owners are looking for tampering."

Her tongue explored my mouth and she asked, "Where is the tattoo going?"

"I'll have to check your body for a suitable location. Without clothes, of course."

"We'll see about that. Has to be somewhere I can show the women in the office. Somewhere a proper young woman lawyer doesn't have to be embarrassed about."

She was walking into the other room, "Ok, you work on the bikes and the secret hideaway while I get this damn brief done."

Cousin Jim said he had the perfect machines for Catherine and me, and would throw in a training course for free. "Chris, these are combination street and track machines, you have to take the instruction seriously."

We arranged to ride the train to Sacramento the following Saturday and I started a search for a down at the heels cottage somewhere nearby. One whose rental did not need any real estate agent involvement.

She was intent on the screen in front of her when my hands descended on her neck and shoulder muscles.

"Keep doing that."

"I'm headed to find coffee shop and grocery store bulletin boards and look for a cottage. Want to come along?

"Yes, but I'm going to be up half the night finishing this. It is due in the morning. No sex for you, buddy."

"I understand. These biker girls are tough."

She laughed and climbed into my arms. "I want expensive leathers. Ones that tell guys there is a woman inside."

"Damn, Cath, you aren't even in the saddle yet and planning to cheat on me."

"That's something else we are going to do, isn't it? Dangle a little bait out there."

"Something those leathers are going to conceal is that biker girl is packing."

"Yes. I already have the gun and holster and know how to use it."

We looked at each other, knowing our guns might be needed sooner rather than later.

Chapter 5

Working up the Peninsula, we struck paydirt near Woodside. The new owners of an estate had decided to see if a decrepit groundskeeper's shack was rentable before they tore it down. Catherine and I loved it at first sight. We told the wife that we were writers who needed a hideaway. She asked an outrageous thousand a month, which we accepted on the condition that the plumbing be made serviceable, the stove flue be replaced, and someone clear away the worst of the overgrown brush.

Back at the apartment, I was working on dinner when Catherine walked into the kitchen in her open terry robe and pressed hot tits to my back. "I'm in love with you. Can you keep me from getting killed?" Her teeth had a big chunk of my neck, biting hard.

I lowered the heat under the soup and turned into her. "Damned if I know. You are the one who is the double agent."

The kiss was hot and the embrace tight. "I am a fool. I am hanging on for dear life, wondering why they haven't already disappeared me."

I boosted her on the counter and licked a boob. "You are a delicious chunk of woman, and I am not about to let the bad guys get you."

She was teary as I pressed gin and two ice cubes into her hand. "Thank you. This stuff goes to my head. You are reducing me to a basket case again."

"Just sit there and look beautiful while I fix dinner."

She sniffled and I tossed tissue in her direction. "Tomorrow is bike day. Feeling tough?"

"Not at all. You are going to have to beat me, or something."

"Ma'am, I've been warned about agents with your training. My instructor said to be very, very careful."

The chops were in the pan and the beans boiling merrily. She stared at me and finally giggled.

"What?"

"You said the bad guys are not going to get me. That means we will live to get married. Maybe even have babies."

I left the stove and gave her a tight hug. "Agents aren't supposed to be sappy in the kitchen."

She shook and pressed wet lips to mine. "I love you."

The rest of the evening was a triumph of sappiness. Short silences punctuated by kisses and wandering hands. We found her bed and ditched the clothes. Our emotions were so high that we didn't even have sex, but fell asleep tightly hugging.

I was groggy in the morning. Almost like a hangover. Her eyes were open, staring at me in the sunlit room. A hand crept out and tangled in my hair.

A suddenly tough voice said, "We are ditching the lovey dovey until this is over."

Agent Jones was in charge. I stood and pulled her into my arms, laughing. "Yes. We tried that already." The kiss was fleeting.

Saturday was a long day. The early train to Sacramento, where my cousin picked us up. An hour of studying the Ducati manual followed by a test drive in a nearby large parking lot. Over lunch, he said, "You both are quick studies. You look good on the bikes, but don't get overconfident. When you have fifty hours on them without an accident, you can begin to think you know how to ride." He grinned and laughed with us.

On the way back from lunch, she asked, "Are we brave enough to ride those home?"

Before I could answer, Jim said, "I have a map of a route that mostly follows back roads. Doesn't put you at seventy on a freeway."

I said, "We aren't in a hurry. Let's try it."

Jim sealed the deal with a gift of a set of riding clothes to go with the helmets he had sold us. The suit for Cath was deep crimson and looked spectacular. I whispered to Jim what she had said about leathers and he gave a loud laugh. "Girlfriend, no one would mistake you for a guy!"

Just for that, he got a hug and a hot kiss. After I took his major hit on my credit card, we shook hands and he said, "Take care of that woman, she is special."

The route down through the Delta on two lane roads was circuitous, but we needed the practice. After an hour, we were riding side by side and smiling most of the time. At the Bethel Island Marina, we pulled in for a biker beer and I said, "Gloria, you sure look hot in those duds. I'm taking you to my place in the woods tonight for some nookie."

"Max, cut the crap and buy me a beer." I got a punch to go with that.

She settled in the darkest corner of the bar, and I brought two beers over. She pulled me in by the hair, "Buster, when are you going to learn to treat a girl decent? I don't go ridin' with guys like you."

The eyes were telling a different story and the whispery voice said, "I am getting such a charge out of this. Can we really hide out at the cabin tonight? And come down just in time for work tomorrow, like you said?"

"Girl, we are in full out escape and evasion mode. From now on, every move assumes someone is watching. We will send coded notes to handlers tonight."

She scrunched over closer and said, "Better. You are going to save my ass yet."

I sure hoped so. She knew as well as I did that two agents in love was asking for trouble. The beer went down in a hurry and we headed out.

After a long loop around, we came up the Big Basin road from Santa Cruz. The Ducatis were a joy to handle on the curves, and Catherine was doing as well as I was. At the turnoff, I signaled to her that I was killing my engine. We coasted down the road and wheeled them silently to the back of the building. In the twilight, I checked around carefully while Catherine pulled groceries out of her panniers.

I pushed her up against the kitchen wall with a hot kiss. My best biker voice said, "Gloria, I said I was tired of your disrespecting my person. Get out of those clothes and assume the position!"

In a flash, she had me against the wall. "Max, I don't know what kind of girls you hang out with, but pay attention. I've got this sharp little knife, and if you don't start behaving, it's going right between your legs."

I hugged her, "One of these days, you may need some of that toughness. But if you stab a guy in the balls, he is going to be like a bull in the ring."

She said, matter of factly, "Yes, but he is going to be clutching his crotch with blood running all over his hands. Mostly, he is going to worry about what I did to his manhood."

She said, "Fix me some red wine, biker. At least that doesn't go instantly on my big butt like the beer does."

We sat on the porch in the last light, watching steak cook on the grill and sipping fine red wine. The double agent felt good against my side. We were both thinking about the messages we needed to send. Encrypted emails that would not make the handlers happy. We didn't care whether they were happy, what we needed was for the agencies to get off their collective butts and coordinate an effort against the bent lawyers and their cartel friends.

Guessing my thoughts, she said, "They may pull us out of here. Pretty visible if they lose agents on this one."

"That's why our last line is going to say, 'Not monitoring this channel because of suspected security risk.' "

"Chris, that is going to piss off a bunch of people. We will either be heroes or goats... or dead."

I stood and we walked to the little computer room. The batteries were fully charged, the inverter lights were green, and the satellite connection came up quickly. In five minutes, we were done and finding my bed for a restless sleep and early awakening.

Chapter 6

In the 5 am dark, we mumbled and growled, splashing our faces and getting back into yesterday's clothes. I reminded Cath to take it easy on the downhill curves, and we left as quietly as is possible on an Italian motorcycle.

Both of us were too busy for lunch, so when her smiling face appeared at my office door at six, I felt a rush of emotion. My girl, my dangerous lover. She mouthed "Dinner at my place?" and I nodded, signaling that I was ready to leave.

If Catherine's apartment hadn't been bugged before, our weekend absence had provided ample opportunity. Actually, we had ordinary work things to talk about, anyway. After we had eaten, I said, "What about a sunset ride on the new bikes?"

I got to ride behind her to my place, hands misbehaving. She had the new leathers on. Looked and felt good. At my apartment, there was a message from our new landlady saying the cottage would be ready in three more days and please send a rent check.

On the way toward a small park in the hills, we picked up a tail. A very obvious tail that pulled up next to us in the parking lot. Two ordinary looking guys got out.

"You two sure know how to stir up trouble. Jed and I thought we were having a slow day until a call from DC came in. I suppose you are here to talk about what we are here to talk about?"

Cath and I looked at each other and smiled. "We appreciate the fast action. Let's see some official identification, please."

An hour's conversation revealed that Jed and Tom were supervisory agents. They had come down the Peninsula to check out our stories. Not said was that they were to decide whether to yank junior agents from their assignments.

You could tell from their eyes and body movements that dots were being connected. I was having trouble figuring out how an FBI guy and a DEA guy got on so well, when Jed said, "Catherine, he found you out, didn't he?"

I answered, "She is a good agent, but something didn't add up. She confessed under duress."

They looked at us and burst out laughing. "Damn, this is a crazy assignment. You two have got it on for each other, don't you?"

I shook my head, "No, it's strictly forbidden in the manual." Then Cath and I burst out laughing. She said, "He keeps telling me he is going to get me out of this alive."

After that, the FBI guy and the CIA guy working for DEA got down to business.

"From what we know and what you just told us, we have a chance to take this bunch down. But an ordinary raid won't work. We need serious evidence in order to convict a slippery bunch of lawyers and their cartel patrons. You need to stay in place and help build a case."

She said, "You are on target. We went into full agent mode over the weekend. We are assuming the apartments are bugged and we are under surveillance. They probably do it for all new help, and we can't assume our doctored resumes are bombproof."

She continued, "But they have a law firm to run, and need lawyers to get the work done. So, they take risks. There must be an inner core group that keeps a second set of databases and financial records. And a courier service to handle large amounts of cash and drugs."

I added, "Lawyers are always moving lots of paper. Somewhere, the bad stuff is being merged in with the ordinary mailings and packages."

"Yes, hold that thought. We have to get back to the office."

I suspected Jed and Tom were going to be our new handlers, now that we had apparently passed some sort of test. Jed stood and said, "You are both totally out of line, but we like your style. Maybe being a little bit goofy will get us what we need and keep you alive. Tom and I need to calm down the east coast folks and put some flesh on a plan for this caper. What about a picnic on the weekend? I've always wanted an excuse to bill the agency for a motorcycle rental, and I bet Tom has too. Can we meet at that park below La Honda at noon on Saturday?"