26. Mac
26
Mac
Why does it have to be zero sum?
What would have happened if I hadn’t interrupted that night?
I never would have… fallen in love.
I can’t believe I almost told her I love her.
I can’t believe I’m about to try to convince my team to change the plan for tomorrow night because she makes me feel like I could do better. Could be better.
This oughtta be interesting.
I knock on Wes’s door and push it open after his affirmative noise. He’s shoving chips into his mouth, washing it down with an energy drink, and his eyes are glued to his screen. “What’s up, Mac?”
“Team meeting about tomorrow night. Can you get Dimitri on video?”
Wes nods, sets the bag of chips on the far edge of the desk—I know because it’s out of the view of the cam—and pulls up the app on his screen. Dimitri answers on the second ring.
It’s dark, his face is barely illuminated from the brightness of his screen as he holds his phone up. The car is dark around him, some flickering street lights in the background show an empty cul-de-sac. It’s not where I’d pick to do surveillance—a lone occupied car in an otherwise empty street tends to make people take notice, especially in the burbs—but Dimitri has his own ways. I know for a fact it’s much closer to the house than where I’ve been parking. He does like to be closer to the action.
“Any sign of Rossi?” I ask.
“The house is quiet. Interior camera feed is quiet. No movement in the main living room, back door or garage. ”
Wes sighs. “That’s the issue with borrowing the feed on cameras already in someone’s house. They never put them in the places they spend most of their time—bedroom, toilet, kitchen.”
“I think we all know that the likelihood of Rossi showing tomorrow is low. We’re not even sure if he’s still in Jersey, right?”
Wes brings up a window on his other screen and types in a few things that show up as green typeface on a black background. It’s real matrix-looking shit. “No hits on his passport or license, so he hasn’t flown commercial—not much of a shocker, there. Could still have chartered something private. But a car registered to him went through an EZ pass lane through Pennsylvania. No pictures of the driver, so it might have been his wife.
“I’m getting the camera access to his other homes. California just came through, still working on Colorado and Florida. He’s smart, or someone who works for him is—they used different security companies. It’s been a real pain in my arse.”
“If he does not show, we have our backup plan,” Dimitri says. “Neutralize the team, blow the unit.”
The backup plan does take care of most of our problem, admittedly. But an explosion that destroys the unit and all the weapons will easily destroy most of the storage facility, and Eleanor is right—there’s no way to plan for everything. Any person in the wrong place will be a casualty.
“Yeah, but we know guys like him. If, after tomorrow night, he has no weapons, nothing to sell, and all his top guys are dead, he might just disappear and slip away. And he has enough money that—if he’s smart—we’ll never find him.”
“Okay, get to the point, James,” Dimitri says impatiently.
“I think we need a new Plan B. If the deal doesn’t draw him out, we’re going to have to do it.” I inhale and turn to Wes. “How many times have you had to remove Dimitri’s picture from that site?”
“Three, now.”
Dimitri rolls his eyes and mutters something in Russian. I catch the word for “persistence.”
“I think at this point, it’s pretty clear that he thinks Dimitri is a threat, and I think we can use that. They think Big D’s after the weapons, so let’s go after the weapons. If we steal the shipment and D takes credit for it, I think it will piss him off enough to actually go on the offensive. And, if we leave just enough of his men alive, he’ll feel safe enough to show his face and have something to prove to them.”
Wes sits back, tapping his fingers on the glass top of the desk as he thinks. “He’s got an ego, we know that much. Wounding it could be the trick.”
Dimitri’s jaw grinds. He doesn’t like the idea, but he didn’t turn it down flat so he doesn’t hate it either. “If we take the guns, the buyer will be out for blood. Rossi will be out for blood.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“Anger could make him unpredictable,” Dimitri argues. “Or, the buyer may try to kill him, thinking he crossed them twice.”
“Double crossed,” Wes corrects.
“That is what I said.”
“It’s a risk,” I agree. “We can probably figure out how to take care of the buyer, though. What do you think, Wes?”
Wes cuts me a look. He doesn’t like to appear to be taking sides, he likes to be the impartial one who weighs the decisions based on logic. “I think… I’ve been nervous that we’d drive Rossi underground tomorrow night. I think it could work, but I’m not the one whose face is plastered all over fucking Craigslist for assassins.”
“Yes, that is me. And I do not like it. It is too big a change, too last minute, too many factors out of our control.”
“Well, let’s figure out how to control them. We still have time. You’ve got nowhere to be tonight, right?” I ask with a grin. Dimitri would never admit to it, but I know he gets bored the same as anyone else on surveillance duty. And nighttime watch is especially bad. “Let’s start with how we’d steal the weapons and work out from there.”
Dimitri looks thoughtful. “For this, I might have an idea. But it is more work for Wesley.”
Wes cracks his knuckles and grins. “I could do with a challenge.”
It’s hours before we’re done, but in the end, we have a plan—divert the truck, kill the drivers, stash the weapons and I’m on cleanup. I’m cool with it, since it’s still mostly my idea. Wes is excited—he’s a creature of chaos at heart, so he loves any time he gets to hack a public office. Dimitri is comfortable with the plan, which is the most we ever really get from him.
Wes has a long night ahead of him, so he follows me out of the office to head into the kitchen for another energy drink. I’m headed upstairs. But before we part ways in the foyer, he clears his throat.
“Dimitri wouldn’t think to ask why—the reason you gave for wanting to change the plan makes sense to him. But I have been wondering.”
“What?”
“If you’re doing this for civilian casualty #4.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It’s what she called herself once,” Wes glances up the stairs. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you chose to save her, and now you want to minimize fatalities.”
“Maybe not,” I shrug.
“This is not an accusation. I simply find it interesting. She’s interesting, or rather, having an interesting effect.”
“So, what, you just want to show me you’re smart enough to have figured out she had something to do with this?”
“No…” he shakes his head and sighs. “Forget it.”
I’m a dick. And probably too fucking sensitive on the subject of Eleanor. “Wait, no, tell me.”
“We could all do with a fresh perspective now and again, and I think it got too easy to treat peoples’ lives as obstacles,” he begins slowly, seeming to choose his words. “I think it’s good that she is pushing you—us, by extension—to reexamine the sacrifices we’re willing to make. But she cares, James. Too much, maybe. If we did anything other than kill people for a living…”
I cross my arms. “She’s… We’re coming to terms.”
“Maybe you are. But I don’t think you’re looking ahead, and I think that’s a mistake. It won’t work if you don’t decide to make it work. You can’t strongarm this one and hope it goes your way—both of you have to engineer it.”
As much as I want to pummel him for it, he’s right. “I’m on it.”
“Good. I like her. And I like her for you. I want her to… stay, whatever that means. And only a little bit because she’s keeping us all fed. ”
I nod and start my ascent as he gives me a smile of commiseration and heads for the kitchen.
My girl is asleep. I hadn’t really expected her to stay awake, and if she had her phone, I would have texted that I was held up. She’s kicked off her covers and is laying on her stomach, one leg crooked up, both arms under the pillow. I sit in the chair across the room, watching her body rise and fall with her even breathing.
I just bought us a little more time; it’ll put off the inevitable for another few days, maybe a week—as long as it takes Rossi to try to hit back after the attack on his ego. But Wesley is right. As per fucking usual.
I’ve been actively avoiding thinking about what happens after tomorrow night. After Rossi is gone. After I have to…
What do I have to do? Leave her? That’s not fucking happening. Make a choice, then? Why does it have to be zero sum?
She makes a soft sound in her sleep and my cock almost instantly hardens. It’s a breathy noise, almost a moan. She shifts on her stomach, straightening her leg and pulling the pillow closer.
“Mac,” she whispers.
I freeze. I can see her clearly in the darkness—my pupils adjust very quickly—but her head is tilted so I don’t know if her eyes are open. She didn’t sound awake.
She makes that same moaning noise again and I’m done. She’s asleep and if she’s dreaming, it’s about me. I bet she’s even still wet from getting primed before falling asleep. She’s always wet by the time I touch her. It drives me fucking crazy.
Silently, I stalk over to the bed. Once I’m standing over her, I pull off my shirt. The noise it makes as it hits the floor is a low rustle of fabric. My pants are next. I shift my weight onto the bed incrementally, so the mattress doesn’t move too much, and get into position slowly until I’m kneeling with her legs trapped under me.
Up on my knees, the view is spectacular. I can see her cream-colored, pale skin in the moonlight, the way her tank top has shifted in her sleep and is revealing most of a hard nipple, the way her shorts have ridden up and that she’s not wearing underwear …
Bending slightly, I reach forward and gently move the shorts aside. Yup, they’re soaked. She’s soaked. I run my finger where her lips come together, relishing in the slick, wet heat of her.
Fuck, I need her.
I know that even now, as it sits undisturbed and turned off in our safe, her phone has a saved incognito tab with a filthy little story about a girl getting fucked by a home invader while she’s asleep. I know that rape fantasies are common, just like I know that fantasy is the key word there. When we discussed our fantasies, this scenario didn’t come up specifically, but she did admit she particularly likes being taken, feeling out of control.
And it just so happens that I love taking it from her.
I spit in my hand and palm myself, rubbing it along the hard length. Then, I line myself up and drop to my hands, which puts me only an inch or so above her. I feel her body jolt as she wakes up underneath me from the disturbance, and I slide my arms up next to hers to hold her wrists.
“Don’t be scared. I’m just going to fuck this tight little pussy, darlin’,” I say into her ear.
“What?” The sleep-fueled confusion is heavy in her voice. “Mac?”
I nudge the tip of me against her entrance and she breathes in sharply. “Gonna fuck it because I can. Because it’s mine. Right, baby?” I ask, showcasing willpower of fucking steel, not just ramming right in. I still want to give her one more chance to kick me off before I penetrate.
“Mac,” she sighs and presses back against me. “I was dreaming that you were here…”
That’s good enough for me. I curl forward, sliding in easily. She cries out at the feel and I grit my teeth. It’s so fucking good. Her body is warm and loose from sleep, her cunt is tight and hot. It hugs my cock, envelops it, sucks it as I pull back. Even more than usual with her legs together like this.
She wriggles a little in my grip, trying to hug the pillow closer, and as closely pressed as we are, it jostles my body too. She moans, dragging in breaths that are musical and needy. Between those sweet noises and the added tightness of this position, it’s almost too much .
“Look at you, taking it like such a good girl,” I grit out into her ear. She whimpers.
“Mac… it’s so deep, I’m so full…”
I release her wrists to get better leverage, pulling up a little to thrust harder. “You like me using you like this? Using this pussy?” I ask through my teeth, my breath coming faster now.
“Yes,” she moans back immediately. “I love it. Please use me… it’s yours.”
My dick twitches on its own, independent of the thrusting, and I nearly blow, hearing the words on her lips. Yes. Fuck yes. Mine.
“After I’m done, I’m going to leave my cock inside you all night. Can’t let any of that cum go to waste; gotta plug it up.”
Her cry is louder this time, a mixture of shock and pure arousal as my words hit home and turn the dial up on the stimulation in a way she wasn’t expecting. I pick up the speed, unable to speak as my muscles strain to match pace with my desire. I chase the orgasm, falling headfirst into it as it catches me off guard. My vision flashes red and white in the dark, I feel my whole body tense, and I spill myself deep into her.
As the feeling passes, I let my hips slow to a languid pace, fucking the cum back into her. She’s still breathing heavily, still writhing under me, still fucking me back as much as she can, like a desperate little thing. I know she hasn’t come yet.
“You want to come too, darlin’?” I ask.
“Yes,” she whines, adding as an afterthought, “please.”
“You know I love it when you beg, but you can do better than that,” I taunt.
“Please, please… I need to come. Please can I come?”
Goddamn, my dick is already getting hard again. There’s just something about how much she wants it, the intensity, the lack of shame. I start moving, thrusting gently, shallowly. Her pussy is a damn vise, gripping me so tight in spite of the extra lubrication inside her. Knowing that she’s full of my cum, that she’s going to take another load…
I reach for her breast, the one mostly hanging out of her shirt, and pull the pajama top down. She gasps as I grab it, massage it, roll the tip between my fingers. I kiss the shell of her ear as I do, licking along the curve of it the way I want to lick that tight bud between her legs. Focusing on her helps keep the second orgasm at bay for now, and I do love the way she responds to it all.
There’s no way for me to get to her clit from this position, so I rear back and sit on my knees. I give the round globe of her ass a little smack and she jolts. “Move your leg up, baby, like how it is when you sleep.”
Our legs switch position, until I’m between hers. Staying a bit more upright, I’m not completely surrounding her like before, but I can still fuck her nice and deep and reach around her leg in the space by her hip to give her exactly what she needs to get off. She’s so wet—so many fluids—my fingers glide over the nerves there. She grinds against my hand, using my fingers for her pleasure much the same way I’m using her pussy for mine.
I rub circles, letting her hip movements set the pace, and find a good counter rhythm with my own hips. It’s amazing how slick that smooth skin can become, almost slippery, and so firm. It’s pulsing with desire. She cries out and pushes hard against my fingers. I feel her clench around me and I have to grit my teeth against my own creeping orgasm. She rides it out, wailing in her pleasure, lost to the world around her.
She’s still shaking when she begs, “No more.”
Some nights, I don’t let her decide that. Tonight, I want to come inside my girl again, pull her into my arms, and sleep with my cock warm between her legs all night. So, I move my hand away from her overstimulated clit, and use it to grab that perfect handhold below her waist to give myself leverage. I thrust hard, enjoying the feeling of bottoming out, and after a few more minutes I’m succumbing to the pleasure again. My balls tighten—the second load is usually smaller—and my skin prickles. This time, there’s a roaring in my ears and my thighs start shaking with the effort of holding myself up over her.
With a final grunt, I relax onto her, rolling off to the side before giving her my full weight. I hook my arm around her waist to pull her with me. She wriggles to settle in, and I close my eyes, exhausted and satisfied.