Alluring Tales

One

As the communicator buzzed in her ear, Sangria Silver pulled her Hummer off Ventura Boulevard and onto the shoulder, knowing the significance of the call. Only important, influential clients had her private number.

After adjusting the miniature microphone attached to her ear down toward her mouth, she pushed the red connect button on the dashboard. “Yes.”

“I have a package for delivery.” The feminine voice was commanding and cold. Sangria noted that the caller was certainly no underling but most likely the main contact herself. This was indeed an important call.

She was used to dealing with intermediaries when it came to pickup and delivery. Usually the cargo that she transported around the country was illegal in some manner. She didn’t know that for sure, and she didn’t ask. Her discretion was the reason she was the number one Conveyor in the New States of America.

“Size?” she asked.

“A metal case. Six feet by three feet by four.”

Sangria sketched out the measurements on a pad of paper she had lying on the passenger seat. She had to make sure it would fit into the false bottom in the back of her Hummer. “Weight?”

“About two hundred and fifty pounds.”

She scribbled that down. “Explosive or toxic?”

“Neither.”

Sangria breathed a sigh of relief. She hated those jobs and was planning to avoid taking on any more. About a year ago, she transported a toxic case that was supposedly airtight and safe. When she arrived at the designated address, she was whisked inside a large warehouse by two men in white suits and facemasks and put into a detox station.

There she spent the next two hours naked, under scalding hot water, while two other men scrubbed her body with hard bristled brushes. She had been sore and raw for weeks afterward. However, she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever they were trying to get off her skin made its way inside anyway. She’d been feeling weird lately.

“Pickup and delivery addresses?”

“Pick up at the corner of Rochester and Selby; deliver to 1020 East Bonanza Road, Las Vegas.”

Sangria punched the addresses into her GPS system mounted on the dashboard. Instantly she had the distance calculated and the time estimation of how long it would take her to go from one place to the other if the traffic was flowing and she drove the posted speed limit.

“An approximate driving time of four hours and ten minutes. I can pick up the package early in the a.m.”

“Now,” the woman demanded. “I need you to pick it up now.”

Sangria didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Something about the woman’s voice bothered her. Too icy, too controlled. A woman without emotions was a very dangerous person.

“That will cost you-”

“Two million.”

Fingers poised over the GPS system, Sangria froze. That was more money than she hoped to make in the next two years. Her usual transporting fee was twenty thousand. She made a comfortable living on that, with a job or two a month. With two million from one delivery, she could actually retire from the job and settle down in a Caribbean country like the one she always dreamed of. But there had to be a catch.

“Excuse me?” Sangria choked.

“I will pay you two million dollars to come now, tonight, to pick up my package and deliver it to Vegas.”

“My usual fee is twen-”

“I know what you usually get paid, Ms. Silver,” the woman interrupted.

Sangria swallowed hard. The woman knew her name. She went to great pains to be anonymous. Her vehicle was registered to a company with three bogus owners who didn’t exist. Her modest house was leased under a false identity that Sangria had created online, complete with birth certificate and social security number. Being an orphan and having run away from every foster home she’d been sent to, she had no family to speak of. And she had no friends and no regular lover. Sure, she had a couple of acquaintances who owed her favors, but it was strictly business not personal.

How did this woman know who she was?

Before she could speak, the woman continued as if reading Sangria’s thoughts. “Yes, I know who you are. I wouldn’t be in my position if I allowed people I come in contact with to remain anonymous.” She chuckled. “But I have to admit it did take longer than usual to uncover who you really are. You’re very good at hiding.” There was a long pause and then, “I’ll have to remember that.”

“What do you want?” A sense of dread started to wash over Sangria. She was never any good at dealing with glitches in her system. Her attention to detail and organization made her feel safe, secure. Now, she felt anything but.

“Your silence.”

“If you’ve called me then you must be aware of my reputation for discretion.”

“I am quite aware,” she stated icily. “But I am not some drug dealer moving H across state lines, or an arms dealer moving guns from New Mexico to Texas. I am so much more dangerous than that, Sangria.”

All the air left her lungs, and she had to close her eyes to stop from panicking. The woman knew about Sangria’s other conveying jobs. How was that possible? Unless she had been watched for the past year? But why?

Sangria’s hands were trembling, and she had to squeeze them together to stop from shaking. She couldn’t take this job. She had a frightening feeling that it would be her last. And not in a good, retirement type of way. Somehow, though, Sangria knew refusal wasn’t an option.

“I figured that out the moment I heard your voice,” Sangria answered trying to keep her voice from trembling.

“Good girl. I knew you were smart.” The woman chuckled, but it brought no warmth to Sangria. “Take the turnpike off Ventura and make your way to Rochester. Someone will meet you there.”

Sangria turned in her seat, scanning the boulevard, looking for parked cars, or buildings from which someone could be watching. She saw nothing but passing vehicles and large flashy billboards. Maybe her vehicle was tagged with a tracker.

“This will be the last communication we have.” The woman paused, and then stated acidly, “Unless there is a problem. And Sangria, you better hope that never happens.”

The woman clicked off, leaving Sangria close to hyperventilating. Ripping the communicator off her head, she shuffled across the seat, opened the passenger door, and jumped out onto the shoulder. Instantly the oppressive heat suffocated her. Although it was nearing dusk, there was no relief to the stifling summer weather.

As she took in some cleansing breaths, sweat started to dribble down Sangria’s face and neck, soaking the collar of her white cotton t-shirt. But she knew it wasn’t just because of the temperature.

She knew there would come a time when she wriggled into something way over her head. A person didn’t do the job she did and not know that they teetered on the edge of immorality and danger. She just didn’t realize how instantly it could sweep over her, pulling her down into a terror-filled void.

Leaning against her vehicle for support to try to ease her strangled breathing, Sangria quickly went over her options. And realized she pretty much didn’t have any. If she didn’t show up at the pickup address, she knew that no matter where she went, the ice woman on the phone would track her down and eliminate her. The fact that Sangria didn’t know the woman’s identity and hadn’t taken any money seemed to her inconsequential.

The only thing she could do was to pick up the package and safely deliver it to the Vegas destination. She had executed thousands of deliveries without issue. There was no reason that this one wouldn’t be the same.

Pushing away from the vehicle somewhat relieved, Sangria almost believed that. If it wasn’t for the cold creeping along her spine that ended on her skull, causing her short bone-white hair to stand on end, she could almost believe anything.

Two

The pickup had gone smoothly.

She met with two burly men dressed casually in shorts and tank tops at the corner of Rochester and Selby just as she was instructed. When she pulled up to the curb, they hefted the shiny metal case into her Hummer and handed her a black duffel bag. Without a word, they walked around the corner, jumped into a nondescript four-door sedan, and drove away.

After they had driven away, Sangria had jumped out of her vehicle again and slid under it on her back to check the under-carriage for any tracking devices. She had found two.

Swearing that she’d been so reckless and stupid for not inspecting her Hummer every day, Sangria had smashed the metal devices off with her tire iron. Although she knew it wouldn’t matter. Certainly, the case had been installed with a tracer.

She had jumped back into the vehicle and checked the bag. It was full of money, but not nearly enough for two million. There was a typed noted inside stuck to one of the money stacks. Fifty thousand now…the rest on delivery. Zipping up the bag, she sighed angrily. Figures. She wondered what other surprises were waiting for her. Sangria had the distinct feeling that this trip was going to be anything but a regular everyday delivery.

The sun was down by the time Sangria turned onto the I-15 heading toward Las Vegas. So far, everything was going as planned, and she managed to relax a little and enjoy the ride. Pushing a button on the dash, classical music blasted from her four built-in speakers. The Hummer’s controls were programmed to respond to her moods. And right now, she needed the soothing sounds of Mozart.

Humming to the music, Sangria didn’t see the semi that jumped the meridian and came barreling toward her with its headlights off.

The next few moments were mostly a blur. She didn’t remember jerking on the steering wheel and ramming into the side of the semitrailer. Or the flipping of the vehicle, as it turned over and over, landing-remarkably-back onto its wheels in the ditch. All she could remember were the grunts and groans she heard resounding in her ears. Surprisingly, it had sounded like more than one voice echoing around her.

Sangria didn’t know how long she sat still strapped into the driver’s seat, blood dripping down her forehead, until reason and awareness slapped her in the face. Putting a hand to her aching head, she surmised that she had a large cut on the crown. Looking at the red-splattered spider-webbed wind-shield, it wasn’t hard for her to guess from what.

Turning in her seat, she took inventory of the damage to her vehicle. The black bag was still there, jammed under the passenger seat. Her personal effects were strewn on the floor and seat from the glove compartment that had flown open. Seeing that triggered a horrible thought, and she spun in her seat.

The trunk door of the Hummer was open, and so was the hidden door in the floor. Damn it, she’d forgotten to padlock it!

Unhooking her seat belt, Sangria tried to open her door. It wouldn’t budge. The frame was bent inward, and she was very lucky that it hadn’t rammed into her side. Shuffling across the passenger seat, she tried that door, and discovered the same damage. She slid between the front seats, crawled into the back, and peered down into the false bottom of her vehicle. The compartment was empty. The case was missing.

With a cry of alarm, she jumped out of the back. Pain-immediate and sharp-ripped up her side, making her head spin. Looking down, she noticed blood blossoming on her t-shirt from under her arm. She lifted her shirt and noticed a long cut on her left side. Guess the car door didn’t miss.

Letting her shirt fall, she scanned the surroundings near the accident. The semi was nowhere to be seen. He obviously fled the scene. The driver was probably driving drunk, or had fallen asleep at the wheel. But when her eyes settled on something only three feet away, her injuries and everything else was immediately forgotten.

The case lay on its side all banged up, with the lid wide open.

She stumbled toward it, realizing that the cut on her head was making her a tiny bit woozy. As she neared, all the breath left her lungs, and she doubled over almost throwing up. She was in deep shit, and she didn’t have a shovel.

Lying on the ground a few inches from the case was a man. Bound and gagged but alive, he looked straight at her with wide vivid blue eyes.

“Fuck,” she whispered as she collapsed to her knees beside him. Her legs were quivering too violently to support her any longer.

Rolling over, he shuffled to her on his side, his eyes beseeching her to end his misery. Blood streaked his chiseled face and dampened the cloth gagging him.

With a trembling hand, Sangria reached over and pulled the gag out from between his full lips.

He sighed. “Oh thank God.” He moved his mouth open and closed, stretching out, what she assumed, were cramped jaw muscles.

“Who are you?” she asked, shock slowly creeping over her.

“Vance Verona.” He raised his bound hands behind him. “Can you cut these, please?”

“What-” She paused, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration, and then started again. “Why…what the fuck is going on?”

“I have a one-way ticket to the Blue Room district in Vegas,” he explained as he tried to pull apart the ropes binding his hands. “I’m a sex worker. Usually I entertain the most powerful women in the country, but I must have pissed someone off.”

“Do you think?”

Chuckling, he continued to squirm, jarring his shoulders back and forth trying to free his hands. “I do believe Lady Maxine Madison is mad at me.”

Gasping, Sangria made a grab for his gag. “No, no, no. Stop fucking talking.” He moved his head, but wasn’t quick enough. She shoved the cloth back between his lips and scrambled to her feet.

She marched back to her vehicle, mumbling under her breath. This could not be happening. The man did not say what she thought he did. He must have been mistaken. There was no way in hell that the First Lady, Maxine Madison, was involved in the sex industry.

Crawling back into the Hummer, Sangria slid into the front seat and turned the ignition. Nothing. The engine wouldn’t turn over. She tried repeatedly, to no avail.

“Fuck!” She banged the steering wheel with her fist. The situation was getting worse by the second. And she had no idea what to do about it. She didn’t have the contact’s number, and even if she did, using it might not be the wisest course of action, if she wanted to stay alive. She had broken her number one rule, and the only thing that could get her killed…she had seen what was inside the package.

Glancing in her side mirror, she could still see him on the ground near the case. He had ceased his futile efforts to release his hands and was just lying there staring toward the vehicle. Sighing, she glanced toward the road. So far, no other vehicles had stopped to inspect the accident. Didn’t surprise her, not in this day and age. No one stopped for anything.

However, it wouldn’t be long before her smashed-up vehicle attracted attention from the law. Unwanted attention that could get her killed.

She crawled into the back of the vehicle and lifted another hidden door in the floor. Pulling out a black bag, Sangria unzipped it and took inventory. She had her passport, some clothes, a roll of cash, a first-aid kit, and a gun. All the things she packed in case of emergencies. This was definitely one of those times.

Reaching over the passenger seat, she started grabbing the items spilled from her glove compartment and shoved them into the bag as well. When she was finished, she took a cloth rag and wiped down every inch of the vehicle, erasing her fingerprints. She took the moneybag and her pack, and jumped out of the vehicle. Bending down, she used her pocket screwdriver to take off the license plate. She shoved that into her bag too. It wouldn’t keep her hidden for long, but at least it was a start.

Marching back to the package, Sangria knew without a doubt that she was going on the run. There was no other way to avoid the inevitable. No matter her excuses, Ms. Madison would not keep her alive. She had seen too much. By accident mind you, but still she didn’t think the First Lady was going to care much about that. Her position was much too powerful and influential to have Sangria running around with the knowledge of her involvement in illegal sex trading.

Staring down at the cargo, she took in his handsome face and lean sculpted body. He had obviously been taken from his bed as he wore only a pair of black silk boxer shorts. Disheveled dark hair curled around his ears and hung over his forehead, covering one of his beautiful blue eyes. He was indeed exquisite to look at. He had probably been one of Ms. Madison’s prized studs.

Maybe I should leave him here. The thought crossed her mind then fled just as quickly. It didn’t matter anymore. She was a dead woman. She might as well have company along the way.

Using the pocketknife she had strapped to her ankle, Sangria cut through his ropes at his wrists and his ankles. Breaking free, he quickly sat up and pulled the gag out of his mouth.

“I thought you were going to leave me,” he sputtered.

“I thought about it.” She slung the moneybag over her shoulder. “Can you walk?” She held out her hand to him and pulled him up.

Standing, he flexed both his legs, rotated his shoulders, and then nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to have a t-shirt in that bag would you? I’m feeling a little vulnerable right now.” He splayed his arms out, indicating his bare chest. He didn’t need to do that for her to notice. He was the kind of man that all women noticed.

She unzipped the bag, and tossed him one of her tank tops. “I didn’t think that would bother you.”

Smirking, he yanked the shirt over his head and pulled it down over the straining muscles of his chest. “Why? Because women pay me to service them?” The shirt was tight and clung to every ridge and ripple he had. Smiling he cocked his head. “Honey, that just means I’m good at what I do. It doesn’t mean I don’t have any humility.”

“Sorry,” she said grudgingly.

He shrugged. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is to get the fuck out of here and stay alive. Valley Wells Station is just over that rise. I know of a little shack we can hold up in. Then we split up. The rest is up to you, cowboy. You’ll be a free agent.”

With that, Sangria turned and walked toward the road, not caring whether he followed or not. She wasn’t any good with other people. She’d been alone for most of her life. She liked it that way. Fewer attachments, less complications.

But as he moved in next to her and matched her stride for stride, she felt a strange feeling of comfort wash over her. She was almost elated to have a companion. An emotion she couldn’t recollect ever experiencing.

Three

The shack barely lived up to its name.

There were four wooden walls, dilapidated but still intact, a single lumpy mattress with surprisingly clean sheets on the dirty floor, a cracked linoleum table with one equally crumbling chair, and a bathroom, consisting of a toilet sans lid, and a shower stall without a door. The amazing thing was, the place had running water.

Sangria tossed her bag onto the floor and sat with an exhausted sigh on the chair. In the throes of lust, an old lover had told her about this place. He had been a gunrunner and had used the place years ago when he had to disappear for a few weeks. He had invited her along. She had refused. And that was the last time she’d ever heard from him. She wondered how long he lasted out here, with his big mouth that couldn’t keep his own secrets.

Vance glanced around the room and grimaced. “It’s lovely.”

“It’s for one night. You’ll live.” Rotating her shoulder, she realized how stiff and sore she was. And that she’d forgotten about the big gash in her side. If she didn’t look after it, it would get infected.

Vance must have noticed her wince, because he came to her side and touched her arm. “You’re hurt.”

She flinched from him and stood. “I’m fine. I just need to wash it and bandage it up.”

“I have first aid skills.”

She glanced at him, her brow lifted in question.

Lifting his shirt, he said, “I had a client who liked it rough.” He drew his finger over a small scar on his abdomen. “I stitched it up myself.”

Although his voice was cool, she could see the emotion in his eyes. They flared like blue flame when he spoke. The man had obviously suffered.

“I’m fine.” She turned and marched into the bathroom, shutting the broken door behind her. It creaked and groaned as it moved, and didn’t completely close, but it would have to do.

Stripping off her clothes, Sangria reached for the shower taps and turned on the water. To her surprise, the water came out hot and relatively clean. She stepped into the stall and submerged her head under the spray. The water felt heavenly sluicing down her skin. Lifting her arm, she moved to the side to allow the cleansing effects of the water flow over her wound. Pain immediately seared through her, but soon healing warmth spread over her. Minus the blood, the cut didn’t look too tragic. Nothing a bandage and time wouldn’t heal.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, enjoying the hot water playing over her body. It was then that she felt the gentle scrape of a sponge on her back.

Jolting, she turned quickly and nearly collided with Vance, who was naked and trying to rub her back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she spurted.

“Washing your back.”

“Get out,” she demanded, trying to cover herself and look indignant.

“Let me do this, please. You freed me. I need to pay you back.”

She stared at him and noticed the emotions swimming in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine what his life must have been like. And to be shoved in a case and transported to another city like chattel…she could just imagine the humiliation he must be feeling.

“Fine,” she conceded. “But it’s just washing.”

He smiled and his eyes danced with mischief. “Hey, I’m a professional, remember? I’m not even aroused. See?” He tilted his head down.

Sangria followed his gaze to his cock. Even flaccid, he was well endowed. Tingles of desire spread over her thighs as she stared at him. His hand moved over to his cock and he wrapped his palm around it sensuously while she watched.

“Like what you see?”

Her head snapped up and she met his smoldering gaze. “Maybe.”

With his hand still on his member, Vance took a step forward. “I’m very good at more than washing, honey.”

“Don’t call me honey.”

“Well what should I call you? You never gave me your name.”

Suddenly, Sangria felt ashamed. Not because she was naked, standing in a shower stall with an equally naked stranger, but because she’d been rude to him from the get go. She could feel her cheeks redden, and she hated that. No one ever made her feel embarrassed before.

“Sangria.” She averted her gaze. “My name is Sangria.”

“A beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman.”

Raising her eyes, she caught his saucy grin and the way he looked at her with a promise of something swirling in the bright blue depths. “Keep your flirtations to yourself. I’m not one of your clients.”

His grin never faltered as he spoke. “Turn around, Sangria. I’ll wash your back.”

Cautiously she turned, giving him her back. She hated that her name on his lips gave her pleasure. A warm tingling sensation started deep in her belly as he touched her on the nape of the neck with the sponge. With slow firm circles, he made his way over her lean muscled flesh. Sighing, she let her head fall forward and enjoyed his attentions. Past the point of stress and uncertainty, she was surprised that her brain could still function. If she could let go for a little while and revel in this pleasure, she would. For she didn’t know when she would ever get another chance.

As Vance neared her ass, her pussy started to purr in delight. Without thinking, she spread her legs apart to ease the ache. It had been a long time since she felt desire. Her last lover had been almost a year ago, and then he hadn’t been that memorable. A porn video and a vibrator would have been more inspiring.

When she heard a groan of appreciation, Sangria glanced over her shoulder at Vance. He was grinning again, but this time there was no humor in his eyes, just brazen lust.

“You have an amazing ass.”

“I told you to save your words.”

Shaking his head, he stared down at her rounded flesh. “I can’t help it, Sangria, this is the firmest, most delectable ass I have ever come in contact with.”

She laughed then. He sounded sincere as he gazed at her backside. But when he lifted his gaze to hers, her grin faded. She could see the desire in his eyes, pacing like a caged animal eager to escape and hunt. She swallowed hard as he leaned into her, resting his sensuous lips beside her earlobe and whispered. “I want to lick your flesh. Allow me to pleasure you.”

She nearly moaned as his lips tickled the sensitive skin on her ear. She’d never been with anyone eager to please her. Deep down she knew that he was a professional, that he was trained in the art of seduction, trained on how to make a woman feel desired, lusted after. But she didn’t care. For once, she would take what was offered without question, without a thought of reciprocation. She would take what he offered her, selfishly.

In answer to his plea, Sangria braced her hands against the shower stall and spread her legs farther apart. With a feral growl, Vance tossed the sponge over his shoulder and dropped to his knees behind her. She closed her eyes in ecstasy as she felt his hands kneading her ass cheeks, his thumbs feathering against her throbbing intimate flesh. Need, hot and delicious, licked at the insides of her thighs, making them tremble and making her sex weep with want.

Vance brought his hands down and wrapped his palms around her vibrating flesh. “Your quivering excites me, Sangria. Like a virgin on her first night.”

“I’m no virgin,” she growled.

“You are with me.” And with that, he moved his hands up, separated her cheeks with his thumbs, and slid his tongue into her pussy.

She jerked violently, as surges of intense pleasure smashed into her, surprising a loud moan from her lips. “Ah, fuck,” she groaned as another wave of glorious rapture swept over her.

Vance was doing incredibly delectable things to her sex. While his tongue lapped at her inflamed clit, causing sizzling jolts to shoot up and down her body, he circled her anus with his finger. Every so often, he pushed the tip in and then out, teasing her with every movement.

Intense pleasure built up deep in her belly and between her legs. Sangria could feel the liquid heat swirling around deep within preparing to explode. She didn’t think she could handle it. Too many violent sensations bombarded her at once. Shaking her head, she ground her teeth and clenched her legs against the onslaught.

“Open for me, baby,” Vance cooed, stroking her anus and vaginal opening with his fingers.

She shook her head back and forth, panting like a dog.

“Let go, Sangria. I won’t hurt you.” He inserted a finger into her and swirled it around, exploring every inch of her. “Let go and I promise you more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before.”

She didn’t want to let go. She’d been so uptight and guarded for all her life, how did one just let go? Vulnerable as a child, jumping from foster home to foster home, Sangria vowed never to feel that way again. But the promise of what Vance offered pulled at her insides, and tugged at her legs. Could she finally just let go and feel real raw emotion?

With sounds of encouragement, Vance eased her legs even further apart, and pushed her forward forcing her to arch her back. She allowed him to maneuver her, to control her. He was the expert and she put herself in his capable hands, literally.

“That’s it, baby,” he purred as he slipped another two long fingers into her, pumping them in and out at a tortuous lazy pace. “You feel like liquid silk. So soft and wet.”

His words inflamed her even more. Even without the hot water still pounding down on her skin, she’d be drenched. Everything he was doing to her ignited passions she hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe not ever. And she craved more. So much more.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she hissed as he circled her anus with a finger.

“Hang on, sugar.” He pressed his long digit into her virginal opening, filling her slowly, inch by inch. “Deliciously tight, just the way I like it.”

Sangria clamped her eyes shut as a sizzling whip of electricity shot over her body. She was very near to climaxing. All her muscles started to tremble and quiver in anticipation. She bucked against Vance’s hand as he picked up his pace, thrusting his fingers into her pussy and ass in a delicious rhythmic pattern.

“That’s it baby, come for me,” he panted, adding his tongue to the ménage of parts fucking her hard and fast.

All it took was one final lick on her clit, and Sangria orgasmed. In an explosion of white light and total rapture, she cried out. “Yes! Oh, my, God, yes!”

Her legs shook violently but Vance held her up, his fingers still pumping inside her, prolonging her orgasm. She could barely see, nor hear, nor think. All that crossed her mind was total bliss. Slowly, her climax ebbed, but he was still there at her pussy, licking her, keeping the shocks and jolts of pleasure searing through her like lightning. She wanted to push him away to allow her to think, but at the same time, she wanted him to keep his assault going so she would never have to again.

“Oh, baby, you taste so fucking good.” Finally, he relinquished his hold on her sex, but gave her quivering flesh one final lap with his tongue.

Eventually, reason came back to her in a rush, and she was able to draw air without panting. Clawing her way up the shower stall, she managed to stand. Every muscle in her body still trembled with exertion and spent passion. Every nerve ending still pulsed with want and desire. She turned just as Vance stood and she stared him in the face.

Good lord, he was gorgeous. Silky dark hair plastered to his chiseled face from the water, his lips flushed and swollen from sucking on her pussy, and his eyes still aflame with lust. She gazed down his lean slick body until she found his cock. He was erect and glistening from the water still spraying on them both.

With a cheeky grin, Vance touched his cock, sliding his hand over his shaft. “It seems I’m not so professional after all.”

Four

Unable to control her hunger any longer, Sangria launched herself at him. He must have anticipated it, because he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and crushed his mouth to hers. A surplus of tastes circled in her mouth as they kissed, including her own lusty juices. It tasted like ambrosia on his lips and tongue. Moaning and groaning into him, she raced her hands over his body. Up his back, down to his ass. She searched everywhere for his flesh, something to hold onto, something to dig into while their tongues tangoed in her mouth.

Sliding his hands down, Vance grabbed her ass and lifted her up into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Sangria didn’t miss a beat as he carried her into the other room. She continued to feast on his mouth, nipping and tugging at his full bottom lip.

She nearly squealed when he dropped her onto the mattress and covered her wet throbbing body with his own. Nestling his cock between her legs, he nibbled on her chin and neck, while his hands were busy at her breasts, squeezing and pulling her nipples into aching rigid peaks.

Spreading her legs wide, she tried to capture his cock with her slick inner folds. Eager to have him sheathed inside, Sangria nudged her pussy against him repeatedly. Groaning, he finally acknowledged the hint, and guided his cock into her, sliding in with one hard thrust.

She ground her teeth against the urge to scream as he filled her completely. She thanked the lord that she was already sop-ping wet or he would have never slid in so easily. Even now, she felt overstuffed with his long wide cock moving inside. She could hardly breathe with the delight of it.

“Oh god, you’re still so tight,” he panted through clenched teeth. “You’re like crushed velvet against my cock.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” she growled against his throat. “You talk too much.”

He ceased all movements and grinned down at her. “Hmm, sounds like someone’s pretty eager.” He slipped out of her and sat up.

“What are you doing?” She grabbed for him, but he slapped her hands away.

“I want to know how much you want me.”

“Fuck that.”

Still smiling, he sat back against the wall and stroked his cock lazily. “Then you’ll get none of this.”

Leaning on her elbow, Sangria couldn’t help but watch as he touched himself. Furious that he denied her what she wanted, she couldn’t turn away. He was an exquisite example of male perfection. Even his cock was perfect. And she wanted it, she wanted him.

She knew he was playing a game with her. She hated games especially when it came to interaction between the sexes. But something about this man made her want to play. It was more than the gorgeous cock between his legs, and the way it filled her up. Here was a man that only the rich, the privileged, and influential touched. He was a man she would never have thought of approaching, never dreamed of being with. Her past lovers had always been just as serious and uncomplicated as she was. Not someone to laugh with, or to share comfortable silences. As she watched Vance, eyed him up and down, taking in his smoldering eyes, handsome face, and playful smile, she realized that she could do that and more with him. That she wanted to.

Getting to her knees, Sangria crawled to him. “I want you.”

“What was that?” he murmured. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

She shuffled up to him, straddled his lap, and nuzzled her pussy against his cock. “I said I fucking want you.” She licked his lobe. “Can’t you tell?” She growled as she ground her sex onto him.

“Mm, yeah,” he moaned while he aided her hips back and forth lubricating his member. “I can feel your sweet juices dripping onto my cock.”

Nibbling her way over his chin, Sangria covered his mouth with hers, pushing her tongue between his lips. On a chuckle, he opened and swept his tongue over hers teasingly darting in and out.

She loved his playfulness. She couldn’t remember the last time she relaxed enough to enjoy sex this much. It was always hurried, more like a necessity than a luxury. But this, with him, was all lavishness, and she was going to revel in every moment of it.

As they kissed, she could feel Vance’s fingers exploring her. He slid them between her ass cheeks and into her soft wet folds. Trailing his fingers back and forth along her cleft, he finally slipped them one at a time into her pussy.

“Mm, I love how you feel inside. So fucking hot,” he said while nibbling on her bottom lip.

“Fuck me, and you’ll see how much hotter it can get.”

She wanted his cock inside her now. She was burning for him. If he waited much longer, she might just self-combust.

Without another word, he slid his fingers out, lifted her up, and pulled her down onto his rigid length. As he filled her, Sangria bit back a cry of pleasure. She mounted him perfectly. A deliciously snug fit.

Once he was fully sheathed inside her pussy, Sangria held still, clutching her vaginal muscles around him, enjoying the way he felt. Savoring every ridge, every vein of his glorious cock.

He groaned against her neck as she clenched and un-clenched her muscles, squeezing him tight. “Oh, God, woman. You’re killing me.”

“Well I can’t have that,” she chuckled. “I’m not nearly through with you.” And with that, she started to rock back and forth.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed up with her legs, stopping right at the tip of his cock, and then slammed back down. Each time she moved, Vance groaned, his jaw clenched tight. She knew she was driving him insane because she could feel it in the way his muscles bunched and twitched. He was reining it in, trying to stay in control. She wondered what it would take to send him over the edge.

While she pumped up and down, Vance pulled her close, nibbled on her neck, and ran his hands up and down her back to end up on her ass. He squeezed and kneaded her flesh, brushing his fingers in the valley of her cheeks, circling her anus. Each time he did this, the breath caught in her throat. An explosive orgasm was kindling inside. She was afraid of its intensity, knowing it was going to be fiery and overpowering like a raging inferno.

Vance ran his tongue up and down her neck and ended to suckle on her earlobe. “I love how you feel, Sangria. So soft, so silky,” he groaned. “I want to fuck you so hard that you scream.”

His words sent ripples of pleasure over her. She grabbed hold of his dark silky hair and crushed her mouth to his in answer to his statement. Oh, God, yes, fuck me hard! She wanted to scream.

Gripping her ass cheeks tightly, Vance lifted her up, but keeping his cock still buried deep, and flipped her onto her back. Once there, he grabbed her legs and pushed them back, spreading her wide. Her knees touched the mattress and she had to take in a few ragged breaths as he began to slide his cock out, and then back in.

In this position, she was completely stretched open and exposed. She could feel every glorious inch of him thrusting in and out of her. At first, his rhythm was leisurely and controlled. However, that didn’t last long.

Soon, he was plunging into her. Flesh slapped against flesh. Their pants mingled together with each thrust. Sangria whimpered as he rammed into her pussy again and again. She could feel him deep inside, as if pushing at her very soul.

Tears welled in her eyes, as her climax quivered on release. She couldn’t take much more. Every nerve ending in her body was firing. She felt like she was ablaze.

Reaching down, she brushed her fingers over the hood of her slit, pushing it back to find her inflamed nub. All her muscles flinched and bunched as she stroked her clit. That was all it took to send her spiraling over into bliss.

Crying out, as starbursts exploded in her eyes, Sangria came hard. She tried to push her legs back, but Vance held her still, held her open as he continued to thrust his cock into her contracting pussy.

She thrashed about on the mattress as delicious wave after wave of pleasure surged over her. She nearly lost her breath with the power of it. Crying out again, she ran her hands over his chest, raking her nails over his skin. She couldn’t do anything else but hang on as her orgasm took her under into the rapturous deep.

Groaning loudly, Vance finally released her legs and fell forward, wrapping his hands around her head, digging his fingers into her hair. With one final deep thrust, he came in a rush of heat and violence.

Sangria wrapped her arms around him and held him as he came, enjoying the way her hands slid over his slick, sweaty skin.

“Oh fuck!” he moaned as he emptied himself utterly.

They laid there for what seemed like an eternity, pressed together, sweat mingling, juices flowing. Finally, Sangria began to stir, testing her limbs for the strength to move. Everything felt like rubber. Soft, hot, pliant rubber, but rubber all the same.

Vance’s body began to twitch on top of her. She was alarmed at first, until she realized that he was laughing.

“Holy fuck, woman, I think you just about killed me.”

Sangria swelled with pride. She never almost killed someone with sex before. A knife possibly, her Hummer most certainly, but never had that pleasure with her body.

“Maybe you should think of getting into the sex trade. You’d make a million.”

She brushed her hand over his sweaty brow, pushing his hair to the side. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He pushed up onto his elbows and smiled down at her. “It was meant as one.”

As she gazed up at his perfectly sculpted and flushed face, she could almost forget that they were a few hours away from officially being on the run. That she had fifty thousand dollars of the First Lady’s money for a job she didn’t finish, and that she’d just fucked the woman’s prized stud in a rundown hovel. Other than all that, Sangria felt damn good.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Vance commented, his brow arching playfully.

“Yup. I am.” She traced her finger over his full sensuous mouth. His lips were designed specifically for kissing. And she wished she could stay attached to them forever or at least for another few hours.

But she couldn’t. Their union was to be brief.

She dropped her hand and turned her gaze from his face. She started to wiggle underneath him so he would move.

He didn’t. Instead, he cupped her cheek and turned her face back to look at him. “What happened there? Everything was spectacular.”

“Yes, it was. But now, now it’s back to reality.”

“Screw reality. Let’s flow with this for a while.”

She frowned at him. “We’ve had our while. Now, it’s time to make plans to get the fuck out of here.”

Vance leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her pouty lips. “You’re so quick to get out of here, that you can’t enjoy it. We only have this moment once, Sangria.”

She paused and stared into his sparking blue eyes. He was right. She’d always been quick to decide, in a rush to move on. Not once had she’d enjoyed a moment just for the sake of satisfaction. And she might not get another chance for a long time.

Nodding, she smiled. “You’re right.”

He tapped her on the nose with his finger. “Of course I’m right.”

Laughing, she snapped at his finger with her teeth. But she didn’t get a chance as he rolled over onto his back pulling her with him. Once settled, he nuzzled her into the crook of his arm and sighed.

“Ah, this is the life. Lying on a lumpy mattress, in a rambling old shed with a gorgeous woman still soft and pliant from some fan-fucking-tastic sex.” He closed his eyes and sighed again. “It can’t get any better than this.”

Chuckling, Sangria felt her eyes begin to droop. She yawned and snuggled into his body, finding his presence rather comforting and safe. She closed her eyes and drifted. The last thought to cross her mind was one of Vance. He’d make for an interesting traveling partner.

Five

The metallic sound echoed in Sangria’s ear. She knew that sound all too well.

Opening her eyes, she had the displeasure of staring into a barrel of a handgun. By the shape and size, most likely a 9 mm Beretta.

“Good morning, sunshine,” the big brute holding the gun chirped.

Vance, who had been underneath her, finally opened his eyes and flinched. “Oh fuck!”

Sangria slowly sat up and surveyed the situation. There were two of them. The hulk holding the gun, and the shorter chubbier brute leaning against the wall by the door, a smug smile on his round pudgy face. Leg-breaking goons, if she ever saw any. They were in deep shit.

“Hello, Vance. Nice to see you again,” the hulk said.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Vance sat up and sighed. “What’s up, Leon?”

“It seems you missed your appointment in Vegas.”

Sangria cleared her throat. “I can explain that. A semi hit me and flipped my vehicle. The case broke open and…well, Vance fell out.”

The guy at the door started to laugh. “You’re kidding?”

Vance shook his head. “It’s true.”

Leon looked over at Sangria, and then did a long thorough perusal of Vance. Sangria thought she saw something feral in his eyes as he scrutinized Vance’s body. Hmm, was there something there? Lust, affection?

“We did find your Hummer. It looks pretty banged up, as do the both of you.” Leon lowered his gun and took a step back as if to assess the situation.

“I didn’t know what to do.” Sangria sat forward and tried to convince Leon. He was obviously the one in charge. “I didn’t have the number, and as it stood, since I saw what was inside the package, I didn’t think Ms. Madison would let me live.”

Leon gave her a half-smile. “You got that right.”

Sangria glanced at Vance. He reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. “So, what are you going to do, Leon?”

“My job for one.”

Sangria watched Leon. Although he looked like a killer, he didn’t look like a stupid man. In fact, the way he eyed Vance convinced her that he was not pleased with his assignment. Obviously, the two men knew each other, and by the way they spoke, even had once liked each other. Maybe, there was hope yet, that they could get out of this alive.

“Take the money,” she blurted.

Everyone looked at her.

“What?” Leon responded.

“Take the fifty thousand and pretend you couldn’t find us.”

Leon shook his head. “I get twice that much for killing you and taking Vance back.”

“Okay, take the fifty thousand and give us twenty-four hours. Then come after us.”

Vance squeezed her hand in question. She glanced at him and shrugged. She was making it up as she went. Anything to get them out of this predicament.

It was working. She could see Leon start to waver. He was definitely thinking about it.

“Six hours,” he countered. “We’ll give you six hours to run.”

“Eighteen.”

“Twelve.”

“Deal,” she said and held out her hand to him. Grinning, he took it and shook, sealing the bargain.

“You got balls, girl.” Tucking the gun back in its holster, Leon looked around the room. “Where’s the money?”

Sangria nodded to the black bag on the table.

Leon unzipped it, looked in, and then zipped it back up. He slung the strap around his shoulder and tipped his head to Sangria and Vance. “We’ll be seeing you in twelve hours. Enjoy it while you can.”

With that, the man at the door exited, and Leon followed him out, shutting the door behind him.

When they were gone, Vance grabbed her and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “I thought we were dead,” he whispered into her neck.

“Not yet we’re not.”

He kissed her on the side of her neck under her ear. Shivers rushed over her again. Damn it! Even in moments of severe panic, he could make her squirm with lust.

Obviously sensing her growing desire, he moved his lips down her throat to her shoulder and lightly nipped her there. He ran his hands down her back to her ass, and kneaded her cheeks firmly.

Wriggling, she tried to push out of his hold. “Vance, we need to get our shit together and go.”

Slipping his hands lower, he slid two fingers into her still sensitive pussy. “We have twelve hours,” he murmured while trailing his tongue down her shoulder to her breast. “Lots of time.”

She sucked in a breath as he pushed his fingers deep, swirling them around inside. She couldn’t deny her desire to fuck him again, but they needed to get going. She bought them twelve hours; they needed to make the most of it.

When Vance reached her breast and sucked in a nipple, she closed her eyes and arched her back, pushing her breast into his hot wet mouth.

“Okay, you have twenty minutes,” she moaned.

“Twenty minutes? That’s hardly enough time for foreplay.”

Opening her eyes, she glanced down at him. “Twenty minutes, take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it.” Vance pushed her back onto the bed, grabbed her around the hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. “On your knees, woman.”

Laughing, Sangria obliged him. The moment she was on all fours, he gripped her hips tightly and thrust into her pussy, hard and quick. Gripping the sheets on the bed, she held on as he rammed into her. Already she could feel an orgasm quickening deep inside her sex.

Sweat dripped off him as he slammed his cock into her. He went so deep she swore she could feel him in her throat. Panting, she reached back and slid her fingers into her open wet sex, quickly finding her clit. Pressing down, she rubbed at it hard.

Within minutes, that hard ball of pleasure at her center exploded into a million little pieces of delicious delight all over her body. Crying out, she pushed back into Vance driving him so deep she came again, harder, faster.

Clamping her eyes shut and twisting the sheets in her hands, Sangria groaned as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed into her. She could barely breathe as the sensations whipped at her like electricity. Each time she thought she was done, another swell surged through her, pulling her down. Drowning her in its delicious torment.

Vance cried out as he thrust once more into her, digging his fingers into her hips. “Oh shitfuckdamn!” He flung himself forward over her back, pushing her down into the mattress.

She didn’t know how long they laid there but it felt like an eternity before she could move again. Testing her limbs, she wiggled her fingers, then her toes. Good, both still working.

Vance groaned and slid his hand up to cup her breast. Where he got the energy, she’d never know.

“I think we still have ten minutes left. Time for another round.”

She burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. The man was incorrigible. “You’re a nymphomaniac.”

He raised his head and grinned at her. “Yeah, hello, I’m a man, aren’t I?”

She crawled out from underneath him and slid off the bed. “We need to get going.” Shaking her head, she padded over to her duffel bag on the floor, unzipped it, and made sure she still had everything they’d need to disappear. She pulled out a slim black leather book and her cellphone. She still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

As she punched in some numbers, she glanced over her shoulder at Vance. He was lying on his side watching her, heat still evident in his eyes. She didn’t think she could ever get tired of seeing that particular look.

“How’s the Caribbean for you?”

He smiled. “I think I could get used to lying around on a beach every day.” Then his eyes sparkled. “A nude beach?”

Laughing, she put the phone to her ear. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“What are you doing?”

“Calling in a favor.” She only had to wait three rings before someone picked up. “Carlos? Remember that thing I did for you last year? Well, I’m calling in my chit, amigo.”

A few seconds later she flipped the phone closed and tossed it back into her bag. Turning, she stared at Vance who was still lounging on the bed, like a pleasure God. She shook her head. How did she get so lucky to have this sexy man fall out of her vehicle?

“Now what?” he asked.

“We wait for the helicopter.”

He chuckled and held out his hand to her. “That’s convenient.”

She took his hand and allowed him to pull her down to the mattress. “Yup.”

“How long do we have?” he asked, while trailing a naughty finger back and forth across her thigh.

“Hmm, I’d say about another twenty minutes.”

Laughing, he grabbed her around the waist and flipped her onto her back, settling between her legs. He pressed his lips to hers. “Just enough time.”

A bad girl at heart, VIVI ANNA likes to burn up the pages with her original unique brand of fantasy fiction. Whether it’s in ancient Egypt, or in an apocalyptic future, Vivi Anna always writes fast-paced action-adventure with strong independent women who can kick some butt, and dark delicious heroes to kill for.