hesitation, his body sprang
into action. He pressed into her, ignoring
the screams of protest from the wounded portion of his psyche. With her wrists grasped firmly, Gage kissed
her. It was long and passionate, drawing
a hum of delight from Monika Brink as she gently bit his lower lip. They stood that way for some time, kissing
and allowing their hands to roam.
Finally, Monika
pushed him to the bed, telling him to sit and wait as she disappeared into the
bathroom. The water ran for a very long
time and, after it stopped, Gage continued to wait for another ten maddening
minutes. Eventually, mercifully, the
door opened and Monika emerged into the dim light of the warmly-toned hotel
room.
Her dark, wet hair
hung straight onto the white terry robe. She moved directly in front of him, her face flushed from the heat of
the water as she untied the robe and allowed it to fall to the floor. Gage stared at her, allowing his eyes to move
up and down the beauty of her creation. It
was as if time had stopped for him, allowing him to view her like he might a
detailed photograph. The bathroom light
behind her became a halo, allowing him to drink in her true shape that he had
so often dreamed of. Her breasts were
large and firm, her hips just wide enough to give her body the classic
hourglass shape which seemed so ridiculously out of fashion. Framed between her hips was a tiny strip of
dark hair, shifting slightly as she moved one leg across the other. Gage was transfixed, unable to move or even
blink.
Monika curled her
finger. “You can touch me, you know.”
He stood and moved
to her, turning her and placing her on the bed. Instinct took over, defeating the years of introversion. Gage kissed her again before allowing his
mouth to wander her body, earning quiet murmurs of pleasure and satisfied
fingers through his choppy blond hair.
For the first time
in nearly four years, Gage Hartline was intimate with a woman. There had been others before her, but Monika
was different. And Gage, despite the
long layoff, did not disappoint.
Later, sated, he
stared at the ceiling, waiting for Monika to fall asleep. When she did, he allowed his mind to think
about Jean, and the business from earlier. Jean had to know Gage had found something, but how much did he
know? If he thought the find was merely
old diaries, would he care? He would if
he knew their contents, but how could he?
Could he know the
explosive truth Gage had discovered in the Friedberg Internet café? Had he been following Gage then? Gage had checked, and had seen no tails.
Perhaps Jean knew
Gage found something and, whatever it was, if Gage had valued it enough to take
it…well…then Jean wanted it. This was
the most likely scenario. Meaning he
would have to act quickly to move the diaries to a safer place. If Jean felt he had a claim to whatever Gage
found, he should have warned him in advance. And the fact that Jean hadn’t called indicated to Gage one singular
notion.
Jean Jenois , DGSE agent, intended to take whatever it was Gage
had found.
Gage stared at the
ceiling for a half hour, fidgeting occasionally. Monika opened her eyes and turned to him, her
dusky features cast in a blue glow from the moonlight bleeding between the blinds.
“Can’t sleep?”
He shook his head,
brushing her hair back.
“Tell me about
this,” she said, touching the small black tattoo on his right shoulder.
“Bah,” he
dismissed. “Just a stupid thing I got
when I was younger.”
“Isn’t this what
lawyers use for their symbol?”
“I don’t
know.” Yes I do.
The tattoo was a
variation of Themis, Greek goddess of Justice. In Themis’s left hand were scales, in her right a sword. It was the only common thread between Gage
and the rest of Colonel Hunter’s team. The intelligence “expert” at Bragg, when the team had been disbanded,
recommended the men have their common brand
into action. He pressed into her, ignoring
the screams of protest from the wounded portion of his psyche. With her wrists grasped firmly, Gage kissed
her. It was long and passionate, drawing
a hum of delight from Monika Brink as she gently bit his lower lip. They stood that way for some time, kissing
and allowing their hands to roam.
Finally, Monika
pushed him to the bed, telling him to sit and wait as she disappeared into the
bathroom. The water ran for a very long
time and, after it stopped, Gage continued to wait for another ten maddening
minutes. Eventually, mercifully, the
door opened and Monika emerged into the dim light of the warmly-toned hotel
room.
Her dark, wet hair
hung straight onto the white terry robe. She moved directly in front of him, her face flushed from the heat of
the water as she untied the robe and allowed it to fall to the floor. Gage stared at her, allowing his eyes to move
up and down the beauty of her creation. It
was as if time had stopped for him, allowing him to view her like he might a
detailed photograph. The bathroom light
behind her became a halo, allowing him to drink in her true shape that he had
so often dreamed of. Her breasts were
large and firm, her hips just wide enough to give her body the classic
hourglass shape which seemed so ridiculously out of fashion. Framed between her hips was a tiny strip of
dark hair, shifting slightly as she moved one leg across the other. Gage was transfixed, unable to move or even
blink.
Monika curled her
finger. “You can touch me, you know.”
He stood and moved
to her, turning her and placing her on the bed. Instinct took over, defeating the years of introversion. Gage kissed her again before allowing his
mouth to wander her body, earning quiet murmurs of pleasure and satisfied
fingers through his choppy blond hair.
For the first time
in nearly four years, Gage Hartline was intimate with a woman. There had been others before her, but Monika
was different. And Gage, despite the
long layoff, did not disappoint.
Later, sated, he
stared at the ceiling, waiting for Monika to fall asleep. When she did, he allowed his mind to think
about Jean, and the business from earlier. Jean had to know Gage had found something, but how much did he
know? If he thought the find was merely
old diaries, would he care? He would if
he knew their contents, but how could he?
Could he know the
explosive truth Gage had discovered in the Friedberg Internet café? Had he been following Gage then? Gage had checked, and had seen no tails.
Perhaps Jean knew
Gage found something and, whatever it was, if Gage had valued it enough to take
it…well…then Jean wanted it. This was
the most likely scenario. Meaning he
would have to act quickly to move the diaries to a safer place. If Jean felt he had a claim to whatever Gage
found, he should have warned him in advance. And the fact that Jean hadn’t called indicated to Gage one singular
notion.
Jean Jenois , DGSE agent, intended to take whatever it was Gage
had found.
Gage stared at the
ceiling for a half hour, fidgeting occasionally. Monika opened her eyes and turned to him, her
dusky features cast in a blue glow from the moonlight bleeding between the blinds.
“Can’t sleep?”
He shook his head,
brushing her hair back.
“Tell me about
this,” she said, touching the small black tattoo on his right shoulder.
“Bah,” he
dismissed. “Just a stupid thing I got
when I was younger.”
“Isn’t this what
lawyers use for their symbol?”
“I don’t
know.” Yes I do.
The tattoo was a
variation of Themis, Greek goddess of Justice. In Themis’s left hand were scales, in her right a sword. It was the only common thread between Gage
and the rest of Colonel Hunter’s team. The intelligence “expert” at Bragg, when the team had been disbanded,
recommended the men have their common brand
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