Chapter 9
Walking into his home, Simon sighed. This would be the last time he would be here. It would also be a reminder of the last time he was happy, the last time he would trust anyone. He went into the den and poured a bourbon, settling into his leather chair, dropping his two suitcases and large duffle bag next to it. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, a fatal mistake.
“That took a while, darling,” Jessalyn said, emerging from behind the curtains that had been closed across the picture window. Her heels clicked on the hard wood floor. If he wasn’t so angry, he would be turned on. She looked sexy as hell, dark, mysterious. It overlooked their back yard, and was usually open. He hadn’t even noticed it was closed, instead, believing the dark room was part of his dark mood. Thunder burst through the air outside, as rain pounded the roof. Jessalyn moved towards him, a tight black dress on, her long blonde hair, now brown. She still looked as beautiful as when they met. He crossed his ankle over a knee, leaning back. If it was his time to die, he would die. Nothing he could do about it. Sipping the amber liquid, he just stared at his wife. In her tall black heels, she stood before him.
“What took you so long to get home? I expected you yesterday,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
“What does it matter? You won’t be my wife much longer.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, darling. I won’t sign and you can’t take me to court if you’re trying to live as someone else.”
“So, what do you propose?” He cocked his head to look at her. The strong-willed personality he adored in her, was now becoming an annoyance.
“Take me with you.” Slowly, she moved closer, lifting his arm with the drink, so she could sit on the arm of his chair. She slid her legs onto his lap, caressing his cheek.
“You’re insane. I don’t trust you. I can never trust you.”
“Oh, but you can, and you will. I just have to prove to you; how much I love you. How much I want this.”
“You’d give up everything, for me? Your career? Your life?”
“What do I have left? You. You’re all that I want, all I need to be happy.” She leaned in, kissing him. He could feel his cock harden beneath her body, as she slid from the arm of the chair, to straddle his lap. She shifted her hips, kissing him harder. He kissed back, tasting her. Having missed the feel of her body in his arms, even if it was only for a few days. He gave in, gave in to the urge to have her, the need to touch her, and let go of the anger. But not the mistrust. Dropping the bourbon on the floor, he slid his hands up her thighs, under the dress. Her core was hot, wet, waiting for him, and she was not wearing any panties. With his fingers, he twirled her clit, pressing on the nub, biting her lip as she moaned against his mouth.
“Is this what you want?” He shoved his fingers inside of her waiting pussy, not even trying to be gentle with her. She gasped, closing her eyes and throwing her head back.
“Yes,” she cried out.
Reaching between her legs with his other hand, he undid his jeans, freeing his cock. Moving his thick fingers inside of her, touching the inside of her walls, she shuddered on top of him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him.
“Then fuck me.” He pulled his fingers from her and she cried out.
“I was almost there.” Looking down, he could see the lust in her eyes. Though their love life had been healthy, this was different. He was certainly taking his anger out on her. Being harder than normal. She wrapped her fingers around his cock, sliding herself over it. As she dropped on top of him, she tossed her head back again. Shifting her hips, she rotated them, moving around on his cock, working it hard. She moved up and down and he could feel his balls tighten, his stomach clench as he began to lose control. She felt so good. Hands clamped down on her waist, he held her in place and began thrusting his hips from under her.
“Cum for me,” he yelled at her. As if reacting to his command, he felt her body explode on him, as she coated him with her thick juices, walls clamping down around his cock. He thrust harder into her, pounding their bodies together until finally, he released himself inside of her. Panting for breath, he let go of Jessalyn. She collapsed against his chest, trying to catch her breath. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of still being inside of her. Could he trust her? Could they work this out? As if to answer his question, gunfire erupted from the front of the house. He shoved Jessalyn to the floor, glaring at her.
“You set me up, you bitch,” he yelled at her. Shaking her head, she looked around, fright on her face. How could he trust her? She jumped up, pulling her dress down as he shoved his dick back inside of his pants. She rushed over to the bookshelf. With one fluid motion, she swept her romance novels to the floor, revealing a hook. Grabbing at it, half of the back wall lifted up. Behind it, was a gun rack. He looked from the rack, to her and back again, jaw dropping in awe. She quickly pulled two hand guns out and tossed them to him. His quick reflexes sent his arms out as he caught them both one by one. She pulled out ammo, setting it to the side, and then grabbed two guns for herself. Footsteps echoed through their house, pounding the floors as several people approached the den. He stalked to her side, snatching up the ammo. She slammed the wall back down, picking up a pile of books and moving them to cover the hook. Putting one of the guns in the back waist of his pants, he grabbed her arm. On his side of the bookshelf, he pulled out the corner of a book and let it fall back into place. The wall slid open, revealing a panic room. He shoved her in, and went back to the chair, grabbing his suitcases and bag. Shoving them into the panic room, he hit a button on the wall and the door slid closed. The back-wall panel slid up, revealing multiple screens. They showed different rooms in the house. From there, he could watch, the team of men came into the den, looking around in confusion. He knew who Alexander “Justice” Shaw was. The man bent down, to pick up the tossed bourbon glass.
“Wow,” she said, trying to sound impressed. He felt her move to his side. “Hi, I’m Jessika Svoboda.” He turned to face her, as she smiled widely. “I figured since we had sex and all, that you should know who I am.
“Well, I guess that will have to change too, since I’m Casey Simmons. How can we pass for a married couple if we don’t have the same name?” She got up on her tip toes and kissed him. Turning back to the screens, she watched as the agents couldn’t figure out where they went.
“So, what’s in the bags?” she asked.
“Our second chance.” She nodded, not bothering to ask more. They stood side by side as agents tore their home apart. Maybe there was a way to make this work, he thought. New names, new location, new lives. Leave all this behind them. They had to get out of here alive first though. Then they could move on with the rest of their life. He looked over at the woman he loved, the one who saved him from the darkness that death and killing had given him. When she turned to him, he just knew it. It was all going to be okay for the two of them. They would make it.
“So, do you like the beach, or the mountains?” he asked her and they both laughed.
-See what happens next, in Undercover Vacation