Page 32 of My Super Sexy Spy
It was just that she did it for me. Her look, the nose ring. Her soft breasts with her big nipples that I’d spent a day looking at in her sundress while we walked the streets of Venice. The whole time pretending not to be interested in what they might taste like.
Little succulent cherries, I was guessing.
“But you are a spy,” she spat. “Is Ted even your real name?”
“Uh…no, not actually.”
“The fuck!” she shouted as if lying to her about my name was my most egregious sin. “Get off me!”
“Look, Beth, we can do this one of two ways. The easy way, I let you up, we go someplace where it’s safe, and I tell you everything that’s happening.”
“What’s the hard way?”
I winced. “I do my Spock move on you, knock you out. Then I carry you someplace where it’s safe and when you wake up, I tell you everything that’s happening. Only in that scenario, you’re tied to a chair. So not exactly comfortable. For you.”
She wiggled some more, and I had to hold back a groan. Then she stopped as soon as she realized the effect it was having on me.
“You’re not even into me,” she said. “Flat chest. Remember?”
“Yeah…I might have also lied about that.”
She stopped moving and looked at me then.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Better. She was thinking now instead of just reacting. I pushed myself up and off her and, once I was on my feet, I reached a hand down for her. To my relief, she took it.
“All you need to remember is that I’m the good guy.”
“Fuck that,” she spat.
Yeah, maybe it was better if she didn’t trust me. After all, I wasn’t entirely certain my bosses weren’t going to order me to torture her for answers.
8
Beth
I wasn’t relievedto see him. I wasn’t. And I did fight hard to get away. I did. It was only once I knew he was that much stronger than I was, I capitulated. It had nothing to do with the fact that when I realized he’d found me, I had this brief sense of security. Like I was some kind of balloon floating around aimlessly, and suddenly, someone was holding my string again so I was tethered to the earth.
He wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore or his baseball hat.
Without the camouflage, he had this sharp jaw line and his cheeks were more pronounced. With the heavy glasses he looked like a dork; without them you could see more of his face…he looked kind of hot.
Not that it mattered! Because he was a tool bag who had lied to me and pretended like we were friends when he had a totally different agenda. Apparently, I was some kind of target.
You’re not going to know what’s happening unless you listen to him.
The reality was Ivan had followed me to Florence. He’d stunned me. Ted-not-Ted had pulled out a gun.
Shit was said I couldn’t un-hear and some of that shit had to do with a father who apparently knew of my existence. And was obviously in enough trouble that the freaking FBI was also looking for him. None of what was happening were things I could walk away from. Which meant I had to deal with my new reality.
I followed him down the alley, out into another piazza, where we kept to the perimeter of the square so we weren’t so exposed. A few more turns, a few more streets and he found a small run-down hotel. He opened the door and pushed me inside.
I waited in the tiny lobby as he negotiated with the clerk who seemed annoyed to have to actually deal with a guest at this late hour. This didn’t look like a hotel where tourists stayed. It looked more like a place where the rooms were rentable by the hour. Like the place where my mom and I’d stayed when we got kicked out of our apartment because all her rent money had been going to pay for her drugs.
He turned and waved me over to him. I had my arms wrapped around my waist as the cold from the late evening started to seep through the dress I’d worn. A dress, I realized, I’d worn for him.
Another black, sexy, short dress. Apparently, even though he’d told me he wasn’t into me, I was still trying to get him to notice me. And even though he’d told me he wasn’t into me, when we’d been rolling around in the street, he’d gotten a major boner.
