Closer (25 page)

Michael stood motionless, in shock at the sight that was playing out before him. The thought of losing Emma paralyzed him. “Mess with the best and die like the rest,” his motto during those long two years of training kicked in. He took two steps and bent forward to wrestle the gun from Ingrams’ hand. In this position, with Ingrams on the floor, Michael had the upper hand. But the gun was buried somewhere between two bodies.

He heard the shot. He looked down and neither Ingrams, nor Emma were moving. He saw blood pooling on the floor. He had failed again. He was going to kill the bastard. He was on his knees scrambling to feel Ingrams’ neck, no pulse! He stood, picking Emma up from off of Ingrams’ cold, dead body and wrapped her safely in his arms. He walked her over to the couch and gently laid her down. He felt her neck to make sure. A pulse, thank God! He trekked back over to Ingrams’ body. The blood was starting to spread to Emma’s nice white, shag carpet— turning the edges red. Michael looked for the entrance wound. He had to give it to his girl; she had guts. She had managed to shoot him sideways through the heart. The exit wound was on Ingrams’ lower side. Michael had to turn his body to find it. She must have managed to turn the gun, at least to touch Ingrams’ skin. Michael had no idea how she was able to overpower Ingrams. Ingrams wasn’t a large man, but he thought his delicate Emma was no match for him. “Apparently Emma isn’t so delicate,” he thought.

He heard movement from the couch. Confident their nemesis was dead, he made his way over to Emma. “What happened?” she asked, confused.

“You did it. You took him down, Emma. I am so proud of you,” Michael cooed praise into her ear while he stroked her hair.

Emma started crying, loud heaving sobs racking her body.

“What’s the matter?” Michael inquired concern lacing his voice.

“I took a life,” she screamed.

Her first kill, of course. He had long since forgotten the feeling of taking a human’s life.

“I was looking right in his eyes before…”

“It’s okay, Emma. Ether you were going to die or he was. You did what you had to do. I know exactly how you feel. Your adrenaline is flowing free and fast right now. You can’t blame yourself. You have to keep telling yourself it was you or he. You didn’t want to kill him. Hell, if he hadn’t shown up here, he would still be alive. If you didn’t kill him, he most certainly would have killed you.”

Her hands were shaking and her body trembled.

“My hands burn, Michael,” she admitted, calming herself a little.

“It’s just from the heat of the gunfire. Here, let me have a look,” he said gathering her hands in his.

He opened her hands, palm up. Sure enough there were red burn marks from the hold she had on the barrel of the gun. He gathered her into his arms and rocked her back and forth until her sobbing ceased.

“Okay, Kevin. Thank you,” Michael said as he disconnected from the call.

The police were swarming through her apartment. They had the yellow tape over the door so that anyone who wanted to enter or leave had to lift the tape and duck simultaneously to do so. The police wouldn’t allow either of them to leave. After all, she had a dead CIA agent in her living room.

Emma was still in shock. She was answering the questions the detectives threw at her the best she could, but she was emotionless. Michael had never seen her so drained of life. He was deeply concerned for her emotional wellbeing. He knew she was strong, physically, but how strong was she emotionally?

“So he was here when you showed up?” the detective asked in disbelief. “Why would a man of his rank want to kill you?”

“I am telling you the truth. Contact Brigadier General Landen. He will tell you all about my project. He will confirm that I am telling you the truth,” she calmly told the detective.

But truth be known, she had killed a man. She felt in some way she deserved to be punished for taking a life. The guilt was overwhelming her. She began to cry again. Immediately Michael stopped talking to the other detective and was at her side.

“I think she has enough for one day, don’t you? Make your phone calls. Call this number; he is with Homeland Security. He is familiar with the situation and can help clear up this matter.” Michael placed one arm around Emma tucking her neatly into his side while he handed Kevin’s card to the detective with his other hand. He made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere, with anyone tonight.

The forensics team arrived to remove the body. They took many pictures and then loaded the body onto a gurney. Thankfully, Ingrams was finally removed from her apartment.

“Johnny, I want pictures of the burns on her hands.” The detective turned towards Michael and Emma. “I guess that’s all for tonight. But don’t leave town. We will want you to come down to the station first thing in the morning.” The detective told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t off the hook yet. She would probably face charges for killing Ingrams.

“I don’t want to stay here, Michael,” Emma whispered. She turned her head to her side to inhale his unique scent.

“Of course not, Baby. We will stay at my place tonight. We will get some guys to come and clean the place tomorrow. After they’re done, you won’t even be able to tell anything happened here at all,” he reassured her.

“I don’t ever want to stay here again, Michael. I will have to find another place,” she said more to herself than to him.

Michael hugged her tightly against his body. “Let’s just worry about tonight. We’ll worry about everything else tomorrow, deal?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.

“Deal,” she said leaning into his kiss.

It was after dark by the time they arrived at his one-bedroom apartment. Upon walking in the door, he instantly regretted the way he used to live. A scotch bottle still sat next to his recliner. He house wasn’t messy, but there were some clothes thrown about. He hurried to remove the clothes so she could sit down on the couch.

“It’s not as nice as either of your places. I have been saving my money to buy a cabin in the Sugarloaf Mountains, like yours,” he explained, his face reddening with embarrassment. He couldn’t ever remember blushing before, and he wasn’t doing it now because he was ashamed of whom he was. He was just ashamed of how he had lived the last six months of his life. She had brought him back to life. He wanted to enjoy it and take part in it again with her at his side.

“You have got to be starving. I’m gonna make us something light. It’s late, and I’m not sure your stomach will do so well with a heavy meal,” he told her as he walked into the kitchen and opened the cupboard. He found a can of Spaghetti-o’s. “I can’t feed her this,” he thought. He hadn’t been to his place in weeks; everything in the fridge had gone bad. “How ‘bout we order some take-out. Do you like Chinese?” he asked, bringing a menu to her.

She nodded and said, “You order. I will eat whatever.”

She couldn’t think about food right now, not with the thought of killing a man still in her head. She needed Michael to somehow make it all go away.

The food arrived and Michael arranged it on two plates. He placed her plate on his coffee table because he didn’t have a kitchen table. She picked up the plate, rested it on her knees, which were pulled tightly to her chest, and pushed her food around the plate.

“Tell me how to help you, Emma. I hate seeing you like this,” Michael said pleading with her to let him help.

If only she knew how he could make it all go away. She placed her plate back on the coffee table. She took Michael’s plate from his hands and placed it next to hers. She moved so she was straddling Michael. “Make me forget, Michael. Take it away,” she pleaded, looking into his sexy caramel eyes lined with thick, dark lashes.

She placed a kiss on his neck. Then, another one. She ran her tongue from the base of his neck to his earlobe. She whispered, “Make love to me.”

Michael went instantly hard. She felt him pressing against her clit. She rubbed herself against his hard shaft unabashedly. She continued nipping and kissing his neck.

His hands found their way under her shirt. He worked to remove her bra. He finally released the clasp on the front. She sat up straight and peeled her shirt from over her head. Then she removed her bra. She leaned back in so she could continue licking the sweet salt from his neck. She inhaled deeply relaxing in his particular scent. He found her breasts and grasped each one. He pinched both of her nipples hard gauging her reaction. She screamed at the pain then melted into the pleasure. She rubbed herself harder against him through his jeans. He thought she needed it rough tonight to make her forget. Tonight was about her being his. He left her breast and moved his hand into the back of her hair. He pulled hard and she moaned low in her throat. She liked the exquisite pain that lasted seconds until it morphed into nothing but pleasure. He knew exactly what her body needed, because this is what he needed after he had killed someone.

He roughly pulled her back from him by her hair. She met his eyes and he saw fire dancing in them. He bit her shoulder hard, so hard he left teeth marks. She rewarded him by pulling against his hand to kiss him. Her kiss was ravaged with need and desire. She ached in every pore of her being for him. She kissed him wildly; she was out of control. Her tongue sought his. She pushed into his mouth and explored like he had done to her many times. He pushed back until he possessed her mouth. He was only going to let her think she had control.

“Remove your clothes,” he commanded. She stood and dropped her pants and panties to the floor in one swoop.

He stood and said, “Undress me.” She followed his orders and ripped his button down shirt open, the buttons popping and flying in every direction. There was nothing gentle about her tonight. She leaned in and bit his nipple, hard, like the way he had bit her shoulder. He winced at the pain, but then she took it away by flicking her tongue over it and then sucking it into her mouth.

She pushed him back down on the couch and covered his lap with hers, straddling him. She positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy. She bent forward, bit his neck hard, and slammed down on his cock burying him deep inside her. They both growled at the feeling of him being fully sheathed by her. She took pleasure in the fullness of her pussy, the way her walls stretched to accommodate his length and girth. He placed his hands on her hips and guided her up and down over his cock meeting each of her downward movements with one of his own upward ones. “Harder,” she pleaded. Their bodies meshed together forming one. They rode the wave in unison, kissing and biting each other. Hands explored flesh. Each time he would pinch her nipple with his fingers, she would reward him by moving back and forth over his pubic bone, taking him deeper than he had ever known. She rode him hard. She impaled herself with him. He brought his open palm down over her ass and spanked her. The first one was just an easy smack to see how she would react. When she threw her head back in pleasure and called his name, he satisfied her with another smack to her ass, this one much harder than the first, so hard his hand was tingling. It had hurt, but the burn soon melted into pleasure. She rode him harder. Higher and higher. He hit her other check even harder.

“More,” she begged. He lifted her from him and said, “Get on your knees.” She practically came at his command. She waited on her knees, the carpet not a comfortable spot for her knees to rest. He joined her. He took her hips possessively in his hands and thrust deep inside her, bringing her back against him as he thrust forward. He withdrew completely. He left one hand on her hip but slapped her ass with the other hand.

This slap made her scream, “More.”

She felt the burn of pain, but it soon morphed into a fire of pleasure. Her voice was hoarse as she pleaded to be punished. He commanded, “Stand up.”

He sat on the couch and motioned for her to lie across his lap. She did so willingly. He took her over his knee and spanked her ass in an upward stroke again and again. With each smack, she climbed towards orgasm. She angled her ass so his slaps would hit just the right spot. Her behind was beat red from his beating. He took care not to smack her in the same place twice. He knew she couldn’t take much more. He slapped her ass again taking care to hit the spot that connected between her thighs. He did so again and again as she cried out his name. She quivered against him, her orgasm shaking her to the core. Now he got to see that beautiful, tamed red ass as he fucked her. He waited until she was done coming down from her high, before he ordered, “Back on your knees.”

She found her same spot on the carpet. Her ass was on fire with pleasure. She had never been spanked before, but she knew she needed it. He positioned himself to take her and that’s what he did. He thrust into her over and over again with a fever she had never felt before. He was fucking her hard. She felt him deep inside to the point where it was almost painful. But, he managed to make his fucking pleasurable, stroking her walls with his cock each time he withdrew. He gently rubbed her ass with his hand admiring the ways he had marked her as his. It was too much: the sight of his markings, the feel of her pussy around his cock. With one more thrust he fell forward with his own release. It was enough to send her into another orgasm. She sucked at his cock as he pumped his hips into her a few more times squirting his hot liquid inside her tight pussy. She felt their juices run down her legs when he pulled his semi-hard dick out of her swollen flesh.

“Stand up,” he ordered. She obeyed. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom.

“Let’s get a shower before bed,” he said as he placed her on her feet. Her legs trembled from coming so hard.

He took care in the shower to wash every inch of her body. He took special care to wash her ass. After the shower, he dried her and asked her to lie down in his bed, backside up. He came to her side with cream that would help the burn on her ass. He had really given it to her. He didn’t want her to feel pain, only pleasure. He gently rubbed the cream into her skin. When he was done, he left the bed and returned to the bathroom. When he reemerged from the bathroom, he heard her cute little snore. She was sound asleep. He crawled into bed behind her and pulled her close to him. She snuggled in and he feel fast asleep – all demons exorcised.