Unmasked: Volume Three (8 page)

BOOK: Unmasked: Volume Three
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I smile as his hand slides under my panties. “Well, then, I guess we’d better enjoy our time off.”

His mouth lands on mine, stealing the breath right out of my lungs. Once he’s satisfied that he’s made me come, he slides his hand out from between my legs and looks me in the eye.

“I plan to enjoy you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Lesson number one?” I ask playfully.

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead then smiles down at me. “Lesson number two: Tell her you love her. Every day.”

Epilogue - 4 years later
Daimon

T
he modern cabin
in Laguna Madre, Mexico is far too warm for my taste, but it’s the perfect temperature for Alex to do hot yoga, which I
love
to watch. I place my rifle case on the steel kitchen island and watch as she stretches out facedown on top of a mat on the living room floor. She places her hands flat on the mat on either side of her chest, then she pushes up slightly into a cobra pose. Her eyes are closed, so I allow my gaze to travel down the slope of her back and to her perfect ass.

“Are you looking at my butt?” she says. Her eyes are still closed, but she’s smiling.

“What else would I be doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe getting the weapons ready or taking a shower. Yes, you should take a shower. That was a long run you took this morning.”

I take the Sako TRG-42 out of the case and begin cleaning and checking each piece and accessory in preparation of tonight’s mission. We were contacted thirteen months ago by an official from the Mexican government. He claimed to have intelligence of a possible assassination attempt on the governor of Tamaulipas, a state in Mexico. The governor’s refusal to cooperate with the drug cartels had made him a target. Our job was to take out the head of the
Cártel de Golfo
—the Gulf Cartel—before they take out the governor.

The Gulf Cartel is one of the oldest crime syndicates in Mexico. This has been our most difficult and dangerous mission to date, which is why it’s taken us thirteen months to get to payday. But it’s finally here and I have the perfect location to take out the mark. This will be our most satisfying kill to date considering that, over the past seven years, Rudolfo Cardenas and the Gulf Cartel are responsible for an estimated 472 deaths in this region.

I tuck the rifle back into the case and, as usual, I see the image of the little boy I killed seven years ago in that flat in London. His name was Gabriel, like his father. I close my eyes for a moment and send out a prayer that I will one day be forgiven or, if it is God’s will, punished for Gabriel’s death.

I open my eyes and take a deep breath as I think of the gift I got for Alex while I went for a run this morning. I stopped at a little tourist shop near the beach and found a fluffy white feather on the floor of the shop. It had come off a hat on the display. I picked it up and gave it to the woman behind the sales counter, but she just shook her head and began reaching for the waste bin to throw it away. I stopped her and asked if I could keep it and she gave it to me gladly, though I could see she was a bit curious as to why I would want the feather.

Closing the latches on the gun case, I head for the bedroom. I take a quick shower and when I come out, I can’t find my handgun. It’s supposed to be on top of the dresser where I left it last night.

I come out of the bedroom wearing a towel around my waist and find Alex bending over with her ass in the air in a downward dog position. I smile as I come behind her and grab her hips.

“Excuse me,
chérie
, but have you seen my M9? It was on the dresser.”

She laughs as I pull her hips back so her ass is pressed against me. “It’s in the den. I was cleaning it while you went for a run.”

“What did I tell you about moving my gun?” I say, reaching forward until my hand is cupped over her pussy.

“Always put it back where I found it.”

“Right. Otherwise, I might think it was stolen.” I stroke her pussy through the thin fabric of her yoga pants and she lets out a soft whimper. “But if I keep finding it was
you
who took my gun, I’ll grow accustomed to thinking there’s nothing wrong whenever my gun is misplaced. Then, if someone
does
steal my gun, I won’t be prepared.”

“I won’t do it again,” she murmurs.

“You promise?” I slide my hand up then under the waistband of her pants.

“I promise,” she moans as my finger glides into her wet pussy. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”

I drag her moisture forward and use it to softly caress her clit. “Your pussy is so wet. Were you fantasizing about me again while you were stretching?”

“Yes.”

“What were you fantasizing about? This?” I let my towel drop and my erection prods the crease of her ass.

“Oh, yes.”

“You were thinking about my cock.”

I slide my hand out from inside her pants, then I slowly push her pants down until they’re around her ankles. I kneel down and kiss her bare pussy as I peel the pants off and toss them aside. She still has her ass in the air as I spread her lips and suck gently on her clit.

I pull my head back and look at her momentarily. “Was my cock inside you in this fantasy?”

“Yes.”

I stand up and rub the tip of my cock against her swollen clit. “In your pussy or your ass?”

She whimpers and I can see her knees and elbows shaking as she tries to maintain this pose. “Neither… It was in my mouth.”

I slide the tip of my erection inside her pussy and she groans with pleasure. “Your mouth is my cock’s favorite place to be. But right now, it wants to be inside your tight little pussy.”

I move in just an inch more, then I slide out again. I massage her clit with the head of my cock and, as torturous as it is for me, I know it’s even worse for her in this position. Unable to hold me or kiss me or touch me. But her frustration will only cause her pleasure to build even higher, resulting in a more intense orgasm. Did I mention I
love
when she does hot yoga?

Sliding my cock upward, I hold it right at her entrance. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, please.”

“You promise never to move my gun again?”

“Yes, yes, I promise.”

I grab her hips then pull her backward until my cock hits her cervix. “Oh, fuck.”

I roll my hips as I move inside her. She moans, grinding her ass into me to coax me deeper. She loves the brief shock of pain that comes every time I hit that wall deep inside her. She can only handle deep penetration for a few minutes, but she’s told me before that she doesn’t feel completely satisfied unless I hit that spot. It’s like an itch that needs to be scratched. And I’m more than happy to oblige.

A
lex

T
here’s
nothing wrong
with getting into a rhythm with your partner. In the bedroom, just like anywhere else, practice makes perfect. And getting fucked while I’m in downward facing dog is one of our favorite poses. I’ve been practicing yoga for years, and we’ve tried having sex in many different positions, but I like the helplessness that comes with this one.

Every time his cock hits my cervix, I cry out in pain. Sweet, delicious pain. But, as soon as it gets to be too much, he begins to ease off. It’s instinctive. That kind of trust and instinct only comes when two people truly know each other. And there’s nothing Daimon and I don’t know about each other after four years of living together as partners in crime and love.

I move into a forward fold pose so my legs are straight and my body is completely folded over until my nose is between my knees. This changes the position of his cock, providing a bit more friction that sends him clear over the edge. But instead of seizing the opportunity to finish, he pulls out of me and walks around me.

I rise slowly and smile when I find his erection right in front of my face. I’m about to drop to my knees to act out the fantasy I was having just a few moments ago, but he grabs my shoulders to pull me into a standing position. His expression is very serious as we face each other and I can’t tell where this is going.

He reaches forward and slowly pulls my tank top over my head, then he tosses it aside. Now we’re both completely naked. He steps forward, closing the gap between us. I gasp when his hard cock rubs against my clit, but he doesn’t try to raise my leg so he can enter me in this position. He just takes my face in his hands and kisses me. A slow, erotic kiss that puts me in a trance. I wrap my arms around his waist to steady myself and he continues to kiss me for so long I begin to lose track of time.

I slide my hand between us to reach for his erection, but he grabs my wrist to stop me. “What are you doing? We don’t have time for a slow fuck. You have to get ready to go.”

His blue eyes gaze into mine and something has changed since he walked in here a few minutes ago reprimanding me for moving his gun. “I want to lay you down and make love to you in the bed.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, if you feel like missionary today, we can do that.”

“No, you don’t understand what I’m saying.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze wanders over my face as he brushes my chestnut brown hair out of my eyes. “I think I’m ready to visit Ana and Laurent.”

My stomach flips at the mention of these words. I’ve known since the moment Daimon and I decided to work together that it was only temporary. You can’t live this life for too long or it will literally kill you. But I must admit I’ve been dreading this day.

I know I can’t do this job without Daimon. He’s the brains and braun of this operation. I’m more of a silent partner. A phantom. The one who can get in just about anywhere undetected. I gather the intelligence, then we both sift through the data and develop a plan of attack. Then he executes the mission.

Today’s mission has been meticulously planned for thirteen months. Other than the Monte Carlo mission, it’s our biggest payday to date: $18,000,000 for one head. But it’s not just the money that’s been driving Daimon to complete this job. When children are caught in the crossfire, as they have been in the midst of the drug violence in Mexico, Daimon can’t help but let his sense of justice and his emotions get the best of him. He’s been dying to deliver his brand of justice to the cartel leader. For him to quit in the middle of such an important job tells me he’s deadly serious.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

He takes my face in his hands again and looks me in the eye so there’s no confusion. “Even with all the preparation in the world, I can be killed. You know that.”

His words take the breath out of me. We never discuss the possibility of dying. We always discuss what can go wrong, but we never discuss the possibility of him never coming back. It’s difficult not to hold onto superstition in matters of life and death.

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. But, just like you, I don’t want it to be true.” He tightens his hold on my face and forces me to look him in the eye. “I want to go through that front door knowing that I’ll be walking through it again in a few hours. But I can’t know that. Not in this line of work.” He kisses the tip of my nose and the corners of his lips turn up in the faintest of smiles. “I know I’m not guaranteed another second with you. A plane can fall out of the sky and strike us down right now. But I know that I can’t keep putting justice before family. I think it’s time.”

Daimon and I frequently engage in long conversations, taking stock of our relationship. It’s important to make sure we both understand where each other stand on the issues. In our first few months together, I often refused to talk about what was bothering me. I had gotten used to using silence as a coping mechanism. But now I know that there is nothing more detrimental to a healthy relationship than silence.

I let Daimon’s words sink in so I can respond appropriately. That’s when I realize what’s really going on.

“You want to have a baby?”

His smile widens. “It took you longer than expected to put that together, Mrs. Rousseau.”

I grin broadly as I tighten my arms around his waist to pull him closer. “You know how much I love it when you call me, Mrs. Rousseau.”

“Of course I do.” He kisses me again, but his kiss is hungrier this time as he seeks an answer to his proposal. “What do you think? Is there a little Gabriel Rousseau in our future?”

“Gabriel?”

His smile disappears as he looks me in the eye. “That is all I ask.”

Most women would be concerned if their husband proposed naming their baby after a child he accidentally killed. But I know that Daimon’s soul will never find peace if I don’t give him this.

I nod and my eyes well up. They’re tears of relief as I realize the endless worrying about whether or not Daimon will survive the next mission is over. They’re also tears of grief because I know I’ll miss the heart-pounding excitement and the animalistic sex that always follows a dangerous mission. And tears of joy for the adventures and the happy memories that are sure to follow.

I rest my head on his shoulder and he squeezes me so tight I can hardly breathe. “I’m afraid,” I whisper against his neck.

“Of what?”

I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat, but it’s no use. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to be a good mother.”

He takes my face in his hands again and the soft smile on his face is comforting. “That fear is exactly what will make you a good mother.” I sniff loudly and he kisses my cheek. “So what do you want to do now that we’re retired? Shall we have a drink or shall we play some bingo?” I smile, but I don’t have a chance to respond as Daimon scoops me up in his arms. “How about we go to the bedroom and finish what we started?”

I loop my arms around his solid neck, gazing at his beautiful face as he carries me to our room. “Only if we can take a long retiree nap afterwards.”

“You got it.”

“Then, can we go to the beach? Just for fun. No running or long-distance swimming.”

“The beach? For fun?” He looks appalled at this suggestion. “Only if you wear that black string bikini you bought in Bali.”

“Deal.”

He lays me down on the bed then reaches into the nightstand. When his hand comes out of the drawer, I smile at the white feather.

“What is that for?” I ask, wrapping my legs around him as he settles himself between my legs.

He traces the soft feather over my nose and cheek. “I found it in a shop today and I knew it was a sign.” He drags the feather down my neck and over my collarbone, sending chills over my skin. “I didn’t know what kind of sign it was until a few minutes ago, but now I understand.”

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