3rd World Products, Book 16 (19 page)

I watched the roll of her hips and her long strides and grabbed my pack to follow her.
 

She saw the pack and asked, “You think you’ll need that?”
 

“No, but it gets lonely.”
 

Her left eyebrow arched. “And the
real
reason is..?”
 

Setting the pack by the closet doors, I said, “Old habits. Luggage stays with you or in sight, no matter what.”
 

Nodding as if vaguely enlightened, Tanya toed off her shoes and began unbuttoning her blouse. She said, “Mom was like that, too. When she carried a purse, she never seemed to set it down. In the car, the purse sat on her lap. And there was a brown jacket… when she wore it, she wouldn’t take it off, even if it made her sweat. One day when I was about eight, the bedroom door was open just a crack. The jacket was on the bed and she was adjusting a strap on a shoulder holster.
And she used to do some other little things that don’t seem so odd now.”
 

Toeing off my own shoes and unbuttoning my shirt, I asked, “She never told you what she was doing?”
 

“Not then. A couple of years later, a man and a woman came to the house and talked to daddy, then they took us all to a farm. A few days later, mom came to the farm and we all went home. My brother and I practically badgered them about what was going on and dad finally told us mom was a special kind of undercover policewoman. He swore us to secrecy, of course. Warned us how dangerous talking could be.”
 

I draped my shirt over the back of a chair as Tanya hung her blouse on the back of the door. Stepping close to her, I met her gaze as I hooked my thumbs under her bra straps and slid them down. She seemed surprised when I gently massaged the lines they’d made atop her shoulders.
 

Without taking her eyes off mine, she unfastened the front of her bra. Letting it slide off one arm completely and catching a strap as it slid down the other arm, she glanced away long enough to hang the bra over her blouse. When she turned back to me, I ran my fingers lightly up her neck and traced the outlines of her face and jaw, then her lips.
 

Tanya’s hands found my chest and did some exploring of their own. Her fingers occasionally pressed lightly where she expected to find muscle and I knew I was being tested and evaluated after a fashion. After some time at a distance that barely allowed the tips of her breasts to touch my chest, Tanya moved into a firm embrace.
 

A kiss can be many things; a beginning, an end, or even a signal that things will proceed, after all. Ours became all of those things as moments passed. An end to tentative exploration and the beginning of real passion emerged.
 

When Tanya reached down to unfasten her jeans, I simply loosened my belt and let my jeans drop. They landed with a hefty thump when my belt knife hit the floor.
 

Tanya froze for a moment, then eyed the jutting staff that pointed at her. As she continued to wriggle her jeans down, she said, “I wish I could get out of these that easily.”
 

Watching her hips emerge, I said, “I’m glad you can’t. I really liked the way you filled those jeans.”
 

Her jeans weren’t the skin-tight style that had recently come back into fashion, but they fit her closely enough that they didn’t just drop off her legs. I knelt to help get her jeans off, then lightly ran my hands back up her legs. With a gentle, kneading grip on her butt, I pulled her forward a bit and buried my tongue in her bush.
 

Tanya wasn’t expecting that. Her legs and belly tensed delightfully and she swayed backward a bit, then her back found the closet door. I let my hands roam her legs to see if her hips would remain in position to receive my tongue’s attentions. They did. She made almost no sound at all for some moments, then her breathing became quick and harsh and her hands flew to grab my hair.
 

Her knees began to tremble and she suddenly exuded slick dampness and a low groan as she pulled my face tighter against her bush. I enthusiastically belabored her for a few seconds and Tanya came hard, her left knee folding as she buckled forward and groaned again.
 

Pushing her leg straight to keep her in place, I gave her several more licks and heard as well as felt her response to each of them. That suited me fine; there were a few more in there. But as I dove back in to look for them, Tanya’s hands pulled my head back and she shook her own head.
 

“No,” she said breathlessly, “Later. Let’s move to the bed.”
 

Shakily gathering herself upright and stepping past me, she stopped to lean on the bed’s footboard and reach between her legs. Withdrawing slick, wet fingers with a look of vague surprise, she stared at them a moment too long.
 

I’d stood up and turned around to find Tanya leaning on the footboard and shocking herself with her moment of discovery. Moving close behind her, I guided myself into position against her nether lips and pushed.
 

A moment later I was delightfully buried to the hilt in her with my fingernails trailing down her back. Tanya gave a gasping groan and got a grip on the footboard. She looked back once with what seemed like a very startled expression, then she simply rode with my gentle lungings for a
time. I reached around her to tickle her magic button and she snickered as she straightened slightly to allow better access.
 

In almost no time she came hard again, then lowered her face to the bed and laughed a long, slow, soft laugh that ended with, “Oh, Gawd, I wasn’t expecting
this!
You don’t know how
long
it’s been since…” She took a deep breath and laughed again, then asked, “Um… Are you going to… finish soon?”
 

I stopped and sort of examined my range of sensations, then said, “Doesn’t feel like it. Need to stop for a while?”
 

Nodding against the blanket, Tanya said, “Yes. I think so. For a little while, anyway.”
 

Withdrawing myself, I stepped back a pace and said, “Damn, it’s cold out here.”
 

Tanya chuckled, then laughed as she straightened and turned around. Perching her butt on the footboard, she reached for me and sat studying the object in her hands.
 

After a few moments, she said, “I think I discovered a couple of things tonight.”
 

“Already, ma’am?”
 

She looked up and chuckled, “Yes,
already
.”
 

“Care to elaborate?”
 

Leaning forward, she took me into her mouth for a time and did interesting things with her lips and tongue, then she released me and sat straight.
 

“Well,” she said, “First and most obviously, I shouldn’t go so long without. It’s been over a year. Almost a year and a half. Second, a little surprise at the start seems to enhance things. I felt almost ambushed — but in a
good
way — when your tongue… when it got me. I think it pushed me past something, but I’m not sure exactly what to call it.”
 

“Give it a fancy title. Call it ‘the last vestige of hesitation’.”
 

Apparently startled, Tanya studied my face and said, “That’s almost
exactly
what I was about to call it! I was going to say ‘the last curtain of hesitation’.”
 

Shrugging, I said, “Well, guys don’t think a whole lot about things like curtains, but it sounds fine to me.”
 

Tanya gave me a highbrow and chuckled, “You’re saying guys think a lot about ‘vestiges’?”
 

I made a show of pondering that, then admitted, “Well, no, not really. That’s a good point, ma’am.”
 

Abruptly standing up, she checked the spot where she’d sat, then said, “Meet me in the kitchen,” and padded across the hall to the bathroom.
 

Picking up my jeans, I set them on the chair with my shirt. I didn’t really know what to do with her jeans, so I set them on top of mine. After punting our shoes near the bed and placing my pack where I could see it through the doorway, I waited in the short hallway for the bathroom.
 

The toilet flushed and water ran in there, then Tanya emerged wearing a towel. She seemed surprised to see me as I said, “My turn,” and passed her with a quick kiss.
 

I didn’t bother closing the door all the way and heard her bare footsteps head for the kitchen. After a leak, a rinse with mouthwash, and a rinse of other regions, I wore the blue towel she’d issued me as I stepped out.
 

Tanya stood splendidly naked by the sink, her towel draped over a chair. I placed mine over a chair as I joined her and eyed the new gin she handed me.
 

With a grin, she asked, “Where’s your backpack?”
 

I pointed. She saw it and nodded.
 

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I don’t usually drink this much. In fact, I don’t usually drink much at all without an occasion.” Sipping, she said, “And the last occasion wasn’t much fun.”
 

Sipping my own, I asked, “How’s this occasion going?”
 

Grinning, Tanya chuckled, “Oh, pretty well, actually. Better than I expected. How about you?”
 

“The same, milady. Pretty well. What made you call a halt to things in there?”
 

She froze in mid-sip and her eyes peered over the top of her glass at me. Finishing the sip and lowering the glass, Tanya seemed to gather her thoughts, then said, “I may as well say it like it is… I chickened out.”
 

Taking a seat at the table, she said, “At first, the idea of doing it without a rubber was almost shockingly exciting. I think it even helped me come a few times. But suddenly it stopped being exciting and became scary. I… I guess I sort of lost faith that a PFM — something I’ve never even seen — could really protect me.”
 

“No problem.”
 

Calling up a screen, I displayed standard info about PFMs from 3rd World’s website, highlighted a section, and turned the screen to face her. She read the data, then looked up at me and nodded. “I just had to be sure.”
 

Chuckling, “Yeah, I know that feeling pretty well,” I sat down on her right and sipped my drink.
 

Her eyebrow lifted. “What does that mean?”
 

“Just that my life’s been full of times when I’ve had to wonder whether my info was valid. Someone once said to ‘trust, but verify’. That’s good advice for anyone in any situation where his or her future’s on the line.”
 

Tanya nodded. “I’ve heard that before. ‘Trust, but verify’. Mom used to say it sometimes.” She sipped and asked, “Why didn’t you and mom get along?”
 

Hm. A question I’d expected sooner, but I still didn’t have a ready answer for her.
 

“We clashed a lot. Over small stuff mostly, but almost all the time. It was all bullshit, and it went on for months. There was no real excuse for much of it; we all knew what we’d need for pretty much any mission. Linda blamed it on mutual attraction and denial. That sounded about right to me. One evening we were setting up for a run and I moved a suitcase so I could put some stuff in a car. When I picked up the case to put it back, your mom snatched it out of my hands. She said it was personal stuff, which made no sense to me. We didn’t take personal stuff on runs.”
 

Sipping again, I said, “I wasn’t in the mood to deal with another round of her bitching, so I just turned to leave. She yelled something about not walking away while she was talking and slugged my shoulder. Hard. I turned and just looked at her and waited. If she came at me, I was gonna try to deck her. Will came running over and tried to get between us. I told him to get back and let her either take another swing at me or shut the fuck up for good.”
 

For a moment, that scene was vivid in my mind. When I didn’t speak for a time, Tanya prompted, “Then what?”
 

“Marie stood there shaking with rage for a little while. She didn’t say anything. I could see she really wanted to come at me, but we both knew what would happen. Disciplinary crap and Linda would zap us both into other outfits instantly. Gone, replaced, forgotten. After a little while, Connie came closer and said something to her. Marie glared daggers at me briefly, then took her bag inside the building. I followed her in, but I went to Linda’s office and told her I’d never work with Marie again. Marie had seen me and followed me to Linda’s office. She was by the door when I said that. Linda called her in and put us on different teams right then.”
 

Tanya and I sipped in silence for a time, then she said, “You said you’d ‘try’ to deck her.”
 

“Yup. I said ‘try’. Once upon a time I saw your mom take down three guys and one or two girls in about ten seconds. We’d just returned from a run and we went into downtown Wiesbaden for a few drinks. Some guy said something ugly about Americans. We left, but they followed us outside and surrounded us. Four of us, seven of them, plus their ratty-looking girlfriends. Push. Shove. Words. Someone tried to punch Will and Will put him down hard. The rest of them jumped in. Street thugs versus training, teamwork, and experience. No contest. We took a few bruises, but they had broken bones.”
 

Tanya stated, “So it wasn’t a matter of not respecting her.”
 

“Oh, hell, no. Strictly personal. Same with her and Mike, but he put up with it a couple of months longer than I did.”
 

“He left the team, too?”
 

“Yup. Transferred out. Gave the same reason.”
 

I sipped and said, “It’s like this, Tanya; the people who run jobs like that know the kind of people who get into jobs like that have lots of confidence. That means they also have egos to match.
You can mix some of them together and they’ll manage to settle into a smooth working relationship, if nothing else. A few usually can’t or won’t settle in, so you shuffle the mismatches until you find places for them.”