Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

In The Shadows	By : HobNobsAndTea Category: -Movies Misc > Round Robins Views: 1149 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither I, nor any of the writers own any of the characters or story lines of this story. All rights belong to the writers and producers of "The Deep Blue Sea" . We recieve no money for writting this story, only the enjoyment of writing it

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
("Hob Nobs and Tea" A Facebook Round Robin group dedicated to Tom Hiddleston and the characters he plays. Everyone is welcome! If you'd like to join us just come on by and click the join button and we'll approve you right away! Because there is adult content, it is a closed 18+ group.)
"Hob Nobs and Tea" :https://www.facebook.com/groups/795876723809511
Written By: Marian K. Welty (TheBlackadder), Jade Hagedorn
Scenario:

Freddie Page (As played by Tom Hiddleston in “The Deep Blue Sea”)in London, England during the Blitz
Opening Entry:
            In Britain in the late 1940’s, early 1950’s, a hot shot Pilot by the name of Freddie Page has been assigned a different sort of mission. To escort a mysterious young woman behind enemy lines undercover in order to retrieve documents of a sensitive nature for the British government. Freddie is given minimal details about the young woman whom he is to accompany, and she isn’t very forthcoming with details about herself or the mission. Even though he was a few years her senior, she finds Freddie hotheaded, reckless, unprofessional, and simply a complete and utter annoyance. She is well aware of his reputation as a self proclaimed ‘ladies man’ and was a notorious womanizer which only added to her loathing. It’s clear that she would have preferred someone else, anyone else as a partner.
            Freddie finds her painfully attractive and cannot deny how beautiful she is, but it was plain she held nothing but utter loathing and distain for him. It wasn’t something he was used to nor was certain how to handle. Unknown to Freddie is the fact that she is extremely well trained, and although not more than 21 she had been on countless successful missions since the age of 12 as an assassin for the British government.
            Now they are forced to spend time together to prepare for their mission, and have no choice but to get to know each other.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            She's sitting there. Glaring at me like she has the last three weeks. I want to grab her hair and pull her against me until she fights me and squeals. I want to taste the wine on her ruby lips. I think she wears that color to taunt me. She vexes me so.
            "Freddie. Freddie. You're staring again." I snap out of it. "You're acting buggy again. Should I call for a taxi?"
            "Yes. Do that. I don't think I can take much more of your condescension tonight." She huffs and crushes out her cigarette. I watch the way the skirt flows around her shapely legs as she walks to the bar. The smoke almost tastes of her mouth as wafts toward me and I breath her in. "Blast." I stub it my own and grab my coat off the chair. And hers.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Freddie got undressed down to his underclothes and looked at himself in the mirror. He was one of the best pilots in her majesties service. Highly decorated, highly thought of, and completely respected all the way around. He was a hero, and was well aware of that fact. So why in the hell was he sentenced to this dreadful detail with this . . . complete bitch of a woman?

            They were sending the pair across enemy lines as a husband and wife, and so far he wasn’t looking forward to it. He hated being in the same room with that girl but it was clear he didn’t have much of a choice. Insubordination would definitely tarnish his record and reputation. He huffed and finished brushing his teeth before turning off the light and going over getting into bed. He turned off the bedside lamp as well and laid back, his forearm under his head as he stared at the ceiling.

            The girl was a mass of contradictions. She was beautiful, lovely, fresh, young, clean, absolutely flawless in every way to the eye. But somehow, she also had a very old soul for someone of her age. She was incredibly disciplined, focused, and determined. But yet again, her dislike for him glowed showing she wasn’t completely perfect in her work ethic.

            Freddie closed his eyes his mind always seemed to wonder back to the same place. Her hair, her eyes, her body . . . her body was . . . wow. Soft, smooth, alabaster white skin. Large, plump, firm breasts. Long legs, a firm backside, hips that he would love nothing more than to wrap his hands around and hold them in place while he . . . . . He hadn’t seen her fully naked yet, but he was certain with the close quarters under which they were working he would sooner or later. Honestly it was the one part of having to live with her he was looking forward to.

            What added to his frustration was how icy cold she was towards him. They had to touch each other to become accustomed to it. A reaction to their touching that seemed contradictory to their undercover identities could give them away and result in their deaths. Amazingly, she was quite comfortable with his touching her or touching him . . . . when they were practicing. They had kissed once or twice the most passionate, awe inspiring of kisses. But the moment it was over, wham. Right back to being the ice queen bitch of the world, leaving him with a painfully aching erection that he had to excuse himself to take care of. He was getting the sense that she was doing it on purpose just to torment him. She was lucky he was a gentlemen.

            There were other things she did that would throw him such as smoking. She didn’t like to smoke, and only did it when she had to, to keep up appearances. She was very matter of fact, down to business, no nonsense about their work.

            He sighed shaking his head knowing that they would be at it again in the morning. They were meeting for breakfast at a café to practice eating in public as a couple. Whereas he was new to this, she seemed to have done it millions of times and was quite at ease with it. Another thing that irritated him to no end. Shaking his head he turned over smashing his pillow about a bit before settling in and going to sleep.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            She's tormenting me again. The hem of her slip is showing yet she's doing nothing about it. Her German handler leans in and whispers in her. My fists clench as his lips brush her earlobe. Her smiles to him are genuine but when she turns to look at me, disgust and irritation thinly veiled by a false smile. The cigarette smoke burns my tongue and throat. I blow it out in her direction. She turns from me and touches the handler's arm, a brush of fingertips from his wrist to his elbow. If they haven't fucked, they will. And I hate him.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~

            She watches Freddie watch her. She cannot hide her feelings for him from him. She won't. Why give him false hope? Why let him believe the ruse? Christophe, her German handler, is speaking to her but she's not paying attention. She turns to him and smiles. Jealousy flashes in Freddie's eyes. She raises her eyebrow and turns to Christophe.
            "Would care for a coffee?"
            He blinks and startles. "I - well yes."
            She curls her arm around his and leaves the room, glancing back to see Freddie staring daggers at them both.
            Freddie sits tapping his fingers on the table as he takes a deeper drag off his cigarette. God damn that woman. She was a beautiful sultry minx that his charm had no effect on, except when he attempted to use it, she seemed more icy than ever. He’d never met anyone like her before. Maybe he could put in for a transfer, there had to be someone more suited for this mission. Another spy, another assassin, someone like her. It felt like they had just pulled his name out of a hat and it was absolutely excruciating.

            “Come on fly boy.” He looked up seeing her standing there her hand on her hip. “We’ve got work.” He sighs and crushes out his cigarette, putting on his hat and shoving his hands in his pockets. He starts to walk away but she doesn’t go with him. When he turns to see her just starring at him and waiting, he sighs and walks back to her.

            “What’s the problem now?” He demands.

            “You’re being an ass. Again.” She answered directly. “Perhaps instead of giving off the impression of a pouty child, you could at least put a little effort into appearances?” He sighs and stands up straight taking his hands from his pockets and offering her his arm. She smiles slightly and wraps her arm around his as they start off down the street. “Need I remind you for the countless time, we are meant to be newlyweds who are madly in love with each other and are to act accordingly. Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable so they avert their eyes and put their attention on anything else. We need that kind of cover to keep people from looking at us to closely.” She explains.

            He grumbles slightly under his breath as they continued on down the sidewalk. “I’ll do my part. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He quips.

            She scoffs at his remark.“My handler, who has not been observing us until today, was rather concerned at our lack of cohesion. It’s very plain that we are not fond of each other to onlookers. Obviously we still have work to do before we can leave on our mission. If we were to attempt to go right now it would be the equivalent of walking into a barrage of enemy bullets. I’m not interested in suicide.” They walk in silence for several moments before she stops and turns to face him. “Kiss me.”

            “Pardon?” He says giving her a look.

            “Mr. Freddie Page, I would think you of all people would know what a kiss is and how it is performed.” She says starring into his eyes seriously. “Or must I teach that to you as well?”

            His eye twitched when she said that. Of all the things in the world he certainly didn’t need any pointers on THAT. She wanted a kiss? He’d show her a kiss. Without another word he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, crushing his mouth down onto hers in a ferocious devouring of her lips.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Oh god, she tastes as sweet as I thought. The cigarette taste a harsh edging. Her body is soft but firm against mine. I feel her tense before she supplicates, her body molding to mine. Our tongues wrestle for dominance before she go finally breaks the kiss. She catches her breath.
            "Next time, try not to eat my face. We're passionate, not animalistic."
            She holds my hand loosely. "If you weren't so insufferable and combative, I might have made our first kiss more enjoyable for you."
            I open the door to the safe house. "That's your problem, Freddie. You're selfish and conceited. You make it so easy for me to prick your pride."
            I groan in frustration. "My problem? My problem is you. You make no attempt to hide your distain or repulsion for me. Which I have done nothing to earn."
            "Your reputation precedes you."
            "That's awfully judgmental of you. Basing your opinion on those of others and rumors. Good night."
            The gall of her. I leave her standing at her door.

            Christophe kisses her shoulder. "He is right, you know. If you cannot hide her feelings towards Page, you will be more of a hindrance than he." She rolls over, pressing her lithe body against his.
            "Should I picture you when he kisses me, touches me?"
            "My ego is not enough that I would desire as such." He slips his fingers between her folds. She gasps. "Will you do what must be done?"
            "If our cover calls for it."
            "Then I should like for you to think of me then." His lips cover her nipple as he lifts her leg up onto his waist.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Freddie leans against the door frame, listening to her delicate little moans. She was a quiet thing. He almost couldn't hear her. The Germans grunts nearly drowned out mewling. So the spy liked the Gerries, did she? He flicks his cigarette at the closed door. Fuck her.
            Freddie heads to the bar, his favorite part that he frequented whenever he was back in town. He knew quite a few people there; those he flew with would often pull up there for a drink. What he needed right now was a distraction. Anything to get his mind off of that venomous little harlot. He ordered his favorite drink at the bar. While he was waiting his mind started to wonder back again to her. His eyes closed a moment remembering how she tasted, the feel of that luscious fit body against his, all topped off with the little mousy noises she made while she was being taken. On the one hand, there was something delicious about those soft noises; on the other hand . . . he was certain he could make her cum so hard and so loud they could hear her cries of ecstasy across the channel all the way to Russia as she screamed out his name.

            The bartender handed him his drink and he took a sip his mind wondering off again. Her lips tasted so sweet . . . he couldn’t help but imagine what the rest of her tasted like. Taking another drink before returning to smoking his cigarette. He had to move his thoughts to something else, otherwise it was going to get real uncomfortable in his trousers real fast. That mouth of hers . . . was something else. So many uses . . . . those pouty red lips.

            “Well hello stranger.” He heard a familiar voice say and didn’t even bother to look up.

            “Hello Kate.” He said dryly taking another drink.

            “Haven’t seen you around here in a while. Was starting to wonder if you got shot down behind enemy lines somewhere.” She said motioning for the bartender to bring her her drink.

            “Been working Kate. Considering London isn’t a leveled wasteland I would think I’ve been doing my job well.” He says giving her a slight glance. Kat picked up her glass and playfully clinked it to Freddie’s resting her hand on his knee under the bar, griping slightly before her fingers slowly moved up his inner thigh.

            He wouldn’t call Kate a girlfriend, or even a friend really so much as a good way to pass the dark lonely hours on occasion. What she was mostly was an occasional distrac . . . . A distraction. Exactly what he needed right now. He knocked back the rest of his alcohol before he took out his wallet and paid for their drinks, before catching her wrist. “Come on.” He said heading out of the bar. She could hardly keep up in her stiletto heels but held on to her hat and hurried along with him.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            I don't know what I'm thinking. Maybe I want her to hear what she's missing. Bringing Kate back here puts the mission in jeopardy but if I have to listen to her fuck that Kraut then why shouldn't she have to listen to me fuck Kate? I don't shush Kate's giggle as I open my door. The ice queen opens hers as if to yell but Katie has dropped to her knees just inside the door. She's already opened my trousers and- Dear god, her mouth! I catch the ice queen's eyes for an instant. But Kate does that thing with her tongue and hollows her cheeks. I can't stop my groan. I close my hands in her hair. The ice queen watches me from the crack in her door. Is this turning her on? Will she blow the German next time he's in her room? Or underneath does she wish she was Katie? Her hand wraps around the base of my cock. My hips buck. Kate makes a choking sound but doesn't stop. I'm breathing heavy, fucking her mouth. And ice queen is still watching us. I wonder if her red lips would look as pretty around my cock as they do on her cigarette. And that's all I need.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Kate lays next to Freddie, trembling in the aftershock of an orgasm. He'd never fucked her that hard before. Freddie sits up on the edge of the bed and lights a cigarette.
            "I need to sleep. You need to go." Kate trails her fingers up his back.
            "You ok, Freddie?"
            "I'm fine, Kate. Now go. I'm training for a mission." She sighs and stands.
            "You're a real asshole, Freddie."
            "So I've been told." Kate hurriedly dresses then storms out, slamming the door.
            The following evening they were called into headquarters by the one who was setting up the Op, who had heard a great deal about how they were getting on together and was less then pleased with the reports. When he demanded an explanation, both parties wouldn’t even look at each other as they fell silent.

            He sighed leaning back on his desk crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know why the two of you were chosen for this mission?” He began, “Captain Page, you were selected because it seems the only way out of Germany for the two of you is going to involve the flying of a plane over enemy lines and back home to Britain. You are the best we have.” He turned to the young woman, “Neala, You were selected because you are our top black ops specialist. If anyone can get this job done quickly and efficiently and to return home alive it’s you.”

            “Sir,” Neala began. “It’s not a good fit. It’s as simple as that.

            “That’s for damn sure.” Freddie grumbled.

            Rubbing his hands over his face he looked at the two of them, “I hate to remind you both but you work for her majesties armed forces. You are in the military and you take orders from above. Not a good fit? Well tough. You don’t get to pick and choose what orders you follow and what orders you refuse.” He stood up, “You two only have a few more weeks before everything is ready for you to leave on your assignment. You better get your heads on right because if they realize that it’s a cover, the two of you are going to be coming home in body bags if you come home at all.” He said in stern tone. “It’s also been brought to my attention that the two of you have been . . . ‘entertaining’ individuals in the apartment set up for you.”

            Both Neala and Freddie began to talk at once in protest and excuses, “QUIET” he roared not wanting to hear it. “You two are meant to be playing house, and learning how to get along. You’re meant to be newlyweds and to my way of thinking, you wouldn’t be sleeping in different rooms and having ‘visitors’ that you both fuck in ear shot of each other.” Oh great, of all the things that could have gotten back to him it had to be that. “These are your new orders. You are not to entertain ANYONE besides each other in that flat. No one, and I mean NO ONE is allowed to cross that threshold besides the two of you. This goes for seeing anyone outside of that apartment for any reason at any time except with each other. Any relationships you might be in, any ‘entertainment’ you might seek elseware is hereby suspended until after you return from your completed and successful mission. Do I make myself clear?” He growled. Both Freddie and Neala remained silent less than happy about this ‘new order’. “DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!” He demanded.

            “Yes sir.” Neala said.

            Freddie took a little longer to respond. “Yes, sir.” He reluctantly said.

            “Good. Now get out of here the both of you. It’s time you got serious about this job instead of completely blowing off.” Both stood almost glaring daggers at each other starting to walk out. “And you’d better start bunking together. That separate bedroom garbage needs to stop. I would imagine newlyweds who are in love would share a room rather then be in separate rooms behind locked doors. Sort it.” He ordered.

            Neala and Freddie glared at each other before leaving the office heading back home.
            Back at the flat Neala and Freddie were to call ‘home’ for now, he was moving his things into her room. She’d always had the bigger room and the bigger bed so it made since to combine into that one. Freddie had never actually been in her room. She’d made a point of locking it every time she wasn’t in it, and of course he had no interest in going in it when she was in it.

            Surprisingly, she didn’t have much in the way of material positions. A total of 5 dresses hung in her closet and it seemed that they were purchased specifically for this arrangement. If she had other clothes they were being kept somewhere else. Freddie finished putting his things in the empty dresser drawers, and hung up his sports jackets and whatever else needed hanging.

            “Did you get everything out?” Neala asked coming in carrying clean sheets to make the bed. “The last thing we need is for an inspection to show that we aren’t following orders.” She began to put the new linens on the bed rather quickly and expertly. He glanced towards her as he closed the closet before moving over and closing the drawers.

            “Yes.” He said simply taking out a cigarette preparing to light it.

            “No.” She said with an annoyed sigh.

            He furrowed his brow taking the cigarette from his mouth looking at her, “No, what?”

            “No smoking in here. I don’t like the smell.”

            “This isn’t just YOUR room anymore. It’s ours. And if I want to have a fag I will.” He said taking out his lighter.

            She stopped making the bed putting her hand on her hip, “You’re going to look awfully funny smoking it through your nose when I shove it up your left nostril.” She said seriously.

            Freddie narrowed his eyes looking at her removing the cigarette again. “Look. We’re meant to be getting along here. You could at least make some sort of an effort to hide your distain for my person.”

            “True. But you could do your part of our learning to tolerate each other if you didn’t goad me with such nonsense as smoking in here. If you must smoke go out on the balcony.” Neala responded. “Is it really so much to ask to simply take such a habit and keep it outside the flat we have to share?”

            He scoffed. “Oh please. You smoke too. Any time we’re out in public you usually want a cigarette in your hand.”

            “For appearances sake, Captain Page, and that’s all. I personally do not like the taste or the smell of the foul little things. But it is the fashion and it would most likely seem odd if I did not partake in my ‘husband’s’ habit.” She explained.

            “You know what,” He said throwing down his cigarette in his growing frustration, “Let’s have it out. Let’s get it all out in the open right here and now! What the hell is it about me that pisses you off so God Damned much?” He demanded, “From the first day we were introduced you’ve been deliberately combative, giving me shit left and right, doing everything you can to push my buttons. So tell me princess. What the fuck are you on about?”

            Neala starred at him for a moment before narrowing her eyes, “Do you really want to know?” She began. Freddie just glared at her waiting to hear it. “You’re cocky. You use charm and wit to prey on those who are lonely and vulnerable and easily swayed into your bed. Tossing them away marking them down as yet another conquest to add to your collection.”

            “How dare you! How dare you presume such nonsense! You don’t even know me!” He shouted.

            “Oh no?” She said stepping closer to him, “Tell me, fly boy. Was it not just the other night you brought that slag, ‘Kate’ back into your room and within moments shoved your shaft down her throat?” He quieted looking at her, “I saw you. I saw the way you treated her. I watched because I wanted to know if the stories and rumors about you were true. Low and behold, they were. Every last one, and perhaps even less descriptive then should be.”

            So that’s why she had been watching him that night in the doorway. Collecting fodder to justify her opinion of him. “Oh really.” He said his eyes narrowed starring her down. “It wasn’t horror I saw in your eyes Neala. When you were watching us . . . watching me take that woman, you were jealous. You were aroused and you wished you were in her place.”

            Neala’s look darkened, “You’re revolting in more ways than I thought, Captain Page.” She scoffed turning and starting to walk away. However Freddie reached out and caught her wrist pulling her back to him and holding her there. “Release me.” She warned in a low voice.

            “I’m just following our orders.” He said mockingly, “And we aren’t sorting anything if you continually walk away from me.” She twisted her wrist jerking it away from his grasp starring at him.

            There were several long uncomfortable moments of silence as they starred each other down, neither one giving an inch or backing away. “There’s no food in.” Neala finally stated breaking the uneasy silence.

            “Then I suppose we’ll have to go out for supper.” Freddie responded.

            “I suppose we will!” Neala snapped back.

            “Get your bloody coat!” Freddie’s voice raised.

            “FINE!” Neala yells. Another moment passes before they both turned from each other at the same time. Freddie to get a jacket and Neala to put on her shoes and get her coat. It seemed as though walking away from each other wasn’t an option anymore. Sharing a room meant there was nowhere to retreat to, no door between them. The tension had definitely grown significantly with their new orders.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            She's barely spoken two words to me this whole meal. Not that I truly want to speak with her anyway. I excuse myself to the toilets just to get away from her false smile and hateful eyes. On my way back to the table, I see Kate saunter in with another pilot. She wiggles her fingers at me. Her smile turns to a frown when she sees me sit with Neala. Great. Just bloody great. She'll make a scene no doubt.
            "Listen, I'd quite like to head home."
            "Well, I don't. Because home is just you. And forgive me, Freddie but that doesn't appeal to me on any level."
            I reach across the table and lay my hand over hers. I watch her visibly fight not to move her hand. "Kate just walked in."
            "With yet another pilot. I might have been right in my assumption about you but I'm also right about her." I tighten my hand on hers.
            "You're wrong. I didn't make Katie do anything she didn't want to. As for your assumption that I forced her on her knees, she did that all on her own." I watch several thoughts pass over Neala's face before she finally decides on one. I release her wrist and pull out a cigarette.
            "Are you actually upset over your actions?"
            "No, contrary to what you might think, I'm not malicious. I don't want to intentionally hurt Kate. Remaining here will do so. And it will cause a scene."
            Neala sighs and relents. We make it to the door before Kate catches me.
            "Freddie." I turn. The gin burns my eyes. "You're a prick." I wipe my face with my hand.
            "Kate. It's not what you think."
            "You're living with her. Maxwell said. You took me your apartment. That's just despicable." I let her slap me. She feels like I deserve it. Even though I don't. I turn to Neala who's trying unsuccessfully to hide her satisfied smirk. I grab her elbow and hurry out of the bar.
            "If you say one word, I'll phone command and tell them to throw me in stir."
            She laughs. "For what?"
            "Dereliction of duty." Neala pulls away.
            "You would sully your so far stellar career?"
            "In a heartbeat." I don't look at her. I can't. She got some sick pleasure from Kate's outburst. But despite what she thinks, I'm not a prick. But she's sure acting like a cunt.
            I don't say a word to her as I get undressed. I normally sleep naked but that would just feed into her opinion of me. The pajama bottoms are restrictive and uncomfortable.
            "You're going to bed."
            "Yes." She frowns but doesn't say the words she's biting. I put the fag on my lips and light it before stepping out onto the balcony.
            "I'll be in drawing room then."
            "Fine." The night air holds a chill but I don't care.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Neala sits in the drawing room, reading. She wasn't sure how the sleeping arrangements were going to work out. The bed was big enough that they could both sleep without touching.
            A sound draws her attention. A soft moaning and whimpering. A muttering that she can't quite make out. Dear god. Is he masturbating?! She slams her book and stands up. He'll hear it for this. This is unacceptable.
            The whimpering is louder, more distressed. A shuffling of sheets. The muttering becomes words.
            "James. Hang on, mate. Stay with me, James." She pushes the door open quietly. Freddie tosses in the sheets. "Hang on, James." The floor board creaks and Freddie whips up, faster than she would have expected. His sidearm swings in her direction. Neala takes a careful step out of the line of fire. "It's alright, James. We'll get out. We'll get home. Just hang on, mate."
            He drops to the bed. His arms fall into his lap. Neala frowns deeper as he begins to cry. Shell shock. While that would explain some of his behavior, It still didn't excuse it.
            Neala turned as if to leave the room and return to her reading but she stopped. This wasn’t the first time she was paired with a solider whose service had created demons. She closed her eyes and sighed dropping her head slightly. Freddie was a 24 karat wanker, but she never was able to just turn her back on someone in such distress.

            Shaking her head slightly she turned back and swiftly made her way to the bed slipping behind him as her long slender fingers gently touched the back of his neck. He jerked slightly as if startled but he remained still and quite asleep. Gently and masterfully her fingers began to work the muscles down his neck and between his shoulders. Freddie’s sobs seemed to quiet as he began to fall back into blissful slumber. Wrapping her arm around him she carefully lay him back down, catching a pillow with her foot and pulling it under him as she rested his head against it. Her hands returned to the muscles of his neck before moving further down his spine.

            This was something she learned when she was being trained in China. They’d taught her a wide array of things she couldn’t imagine why or when there would ever be circumstances under which she would use them, only to find later that it was techniques like this she often used the most. Especially with cases like Freddie where just waking him up wasn’t going to solve the problem and would most likely just make it worse.

            She continued to work her way down his neck, between his shoulders, and down his spine releasing knots and tension where she found them. When she finished, she watched him sleeping peacefully and resting quite easily for a few moments. Why is it that when people slept, it was as though whatever innocence that was left inside them seemed to appear. He was handsome, of course. No woman who had eyes could deny that. But his arrogance, his superiority, everything about him grated on her nerves. As soon as he opened his mouth she found herself wanting to feed him his own tongue.

            Neala stood from the bed pulling the sheet over him before walking out flipping the light off and closing the door. She sighed shaking her head slightly not knowing how she was going to survive this mission. What was it about Freddie that repulsed her so violently she was willing to risk insubordination to keep him at arm’s length and torment him every chance she got. Most of the time she was sent on solo missions, but occasionally she would be given a partner and never did she remember having acted like this.

            Clinching her jaw she went back to the next room and sat down opening her book to read. Honestly, she should have been turning in to sleep as well but she just couldn’t allow herself to lay next to that . . . crude, misogynistic, pikey.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            That insufferable woman hasn't been to bed yet. Her side is cold. And she'll likely take her lack of sleep out on me. The moon hands low in the sky but I can still see the stars. Beside clock reads half past one. I ruffle my hair as I set my feet on the floor. It's cold so I don my slippers. The light is still on in the den. I open my mouth to start in on her but I shut it with a click of teeth. She's fallen asleep. Her book is open on her lap, her head tilted to side. Her relaxed face is breathtakingly beautiful. I'd like to cup her face and taste of her lips when they're not spewing venom in my direction. I carefully take the book and set it on the table, open so as not to lose her place. Something she'd no doubt take a personal affront. Her eyebrows furrow when I pick her up. I don't touch her dressing gown. In fact, I pull the hem down her thigh to preserve her modesty. I carefully cover her up with the blankets. The quilt on the chair should suffice for myself.
            I lay there for what seems like forever waiting for sleep to take me again. This mission is going to be hell. I could suffer her negative behavior if she wouldn't be so blatant about it.

            Neala stretches in bed. She'd had an odd dream. Her eyes snap open. She hadn't come to bed. She looks down at her person surely to be stripped and violated. On the contrary, she finds herself fully clothed and under the blankets alone. Freddie's back is an alabaster line on the far side of the bed. She frowns. Bloody man. Her opinion of him wasn't going to change because of a few acts of kindness.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Neala put on her gloves and fixed her hat in the mirror as Freddie stood by tapping his foot watching her finish getting ready. “Stop it.” She said putting her hat pin in.

            “Who eats lunch this late?” He says looking at his watch.

            “People who are aware they’re going to have observers today and need to make a good impression.” She said picking up her wrap. She looked at Freddie and he rolled his eyes taking it helping her put it on. She shook her head knowing full well he knew what he was meant to be doing but was purposely letting it fall to the way side.

            “This is dumb.” He said with a sigh.

            “So is walking off the train in Berlin looking like we absolutely hate each other’s company.” She said taking one last look in the mirror. Freddie was doing his best not to look directly at her because to be honest, she was a knock out today. In her best dress, scrubbed up, her hair perfect, her makeup flawless, she was absolutely breath taking. The way her skirt hugged her curves, the slit up the side that revealed just enough of her thigh to send his mind reeling.

            “You honestly think we’ll be observed that closely today?” Freddie said looking over her shoulder in the mirror.

            “Yes. And they’ll throw things at us. Send people up to talk to us, even waiters have been used in the past. They’ll all report back to how we appear with each other in public. What they observe in the way we act, the way we talk, the way we look at each other.” She turned looking at him, “Are you ready for this?”

            Neala seemed to know so much about this, she’d obviously done it before whereas this was Freddie’s first time. Perhaps they should have spent a bit more time interacting at home rather than sniping back and forth to each other. “If you can handle it, I can handle it.” He said in an almost challenging tone as he stared into her eyes.

            A smile swept her face almost as though she had picked up the gauntlet he’d just thrown down. It appeared as though they were going to be seeing just how much they could push each other without breaking character.

            Neala wrapped her arm around his and they left the flat heading to the square.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            I forget that I want to throttle this woman. I forget she's making my life hell and will until the mission is complete. I focus on how much I desire her. How much I want to make her moan. I focus on Mary Ann Arbor who told me she loved me before I joined the RAF. Until this is over, Neala, you're Mary Ann. I open the door for her. She smiles her false smile but it doesn't reach her eyes.
            I take her jacket and pull out her chair. I lean down and kiss her cheek. Her shoulders stiffen but she leans into my kiss. "I should have told you at home but you look absolutely stunning, darling." I take my seat. Next to her, not across from her like she was expecting. I lay my hand on hers, curling my fingers under her palm.
            "You shouldn't fall asleep reading. You know how cranky you get. I had to carry you to bed last night." I smile, thinking of the first time Mary Ann let me kiss her. The smile reaches my eyes. I watch Neala frown. Either at my turnaround or my chastisement. Slowly, she smiles and despite what anyone looking can see, it's not a nice smile. Her eyes burn with her hatred of me.
            "Who's James?"
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Suddenly it was made clear just what sort of contest this afternoon was going to be with the mention of James. How could she possibly know about him? He’d never told anyone. “I don’t know any James.” The waiter brought you your drinks as you ordered your lunch before leaving you alone again. Freddie picked up his glass taking a drink.

            Putting his glass down he slid closer to her wrapping his arm around her waist with a smile. Her body went brittle for a moment like a cat being held over a tub of water, but she consciously forced herself to relax as she turned into him and smiled resting her hand over his on the table. If she wanted to play the ‘who can push who the furthest in a public’ game, he was match fit for it.

            “Oh, darling.” He says taking her left hand, “You’ve forgotten again, you left your wedding ring at home.” He says with a playful pretend pout before bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it gently.

            “I’m sorry, I’ll remember it next time. I would feel worse except you aren’t wearing yours either. Sweetheart.” There was a smile on her lips but you could almost hear her grinding her back teeth. Freddie looks at his hand.

            “Hmm. Your right. I’m sorry dear.” He leans closer to her, “Do you still love me?”

            Neala starred at him, a plastic smile on her lips as she glared into his eyes, “Always . . . . my love . . .” He smiles warmly leaning in and kissing her before nuzzling her nose with his. She kissed him back but her lips were drawn tight. Freddie grinned and kissed her again pulling her tighter against him, his other hand rested on her lap under the table squeezing her thigh slightly. He felt her hand clinch into a fist against his shoulder but she quickly corrected it resting her palm against his back.

            The kiss broke and they glared into each other’s eyes with determination to see which one would crack first. “I know,” Freddie said, “After lunch we could take a stroll down by the canal. Do you remember how we first met? You were walking down by the docks.”

            That was a cheap shot, having basically just called her a prostitute. “Oh yes, I remember. Your friend Kate adores strolling down there as well, doesn’t she.”Freddie’s eyes narrow slightly. Neala smiles smugly having gotten a shot in of her own and reaches over picking up her drink taking a long sip. She was going to need two or three more of these before lunch was over. Rather than retort verbally, Freddie just chuckles playfully but his hand beneath the table where no one could see, slipped underneath her blouse and rested palm flat over her bare skin on her abdomen. He felt her shiver slightly but it wasn’t one of pleasure more of wanting to blacken his eye but being helpless to do so.

            When they were making displays of affection, kissing or touching in public, it was meant to keep the illusion of their being newlyweds in love. However what he was doing right now no one else could see, he was just doing it to antagonize her knowing how much she hated him to touch her. For Neala what was making it especially hard was she was finding she didn’t loathe his touch as much as she maintained she did. He was incredibly strong, very tall, and extremely handsome, with beautiful crystal clear intelligent eyes. There were times when she found her mind wondering into places where they shouldn’t with Freddie. When she caught herself imagining what it would be like to touch his strong chest and taste his sweat covered skin feeling his muscular form against her own, she would instantly shake it off and push it from her mind. There was no way in this world she was going to fall prey to such a womanizing predator just to be another notch on his headboard. Would it become necessary to go so far physically with him, HE would be a notch on HER bedpost. Not the other way around. She’d leave him in a spent quivering mass, exhausted and drained of every ounce of energy, almost crying for mercy with no strength left before she would bring him to his knees yet again.

            The waiter brings their order and sets it on the table before them as Freddie and Neala untangle from each other’s arms reaching for their cutlery calling a time out to their antagonizing of each other for a few moments so they could eat. Neala picks up her drink taking a sip as Freddie cuts a piece of chicken and holds it up to her. “Here darling,” He says with a smile. “Try this, you’ll like it.” He was feeding her now!? She glanced at him a moment before smiling softly and opening her mouth as he places it on her tongue. Keeping her eyes on his she begins to chew. A smile sweeps his face, “You’re so adorable when you eat.”

            He really was pushing all of her buttons at this point, “Am I?” She says looking into his eyes. Underneath the table her hand moves to his crotch pressing against his manhood running her fingers over him tracing his large member before clutching it slightly. “Still adorable?”

            Freddie just stares at her clearing his throat, “Yes. Always love. Very. . . .very adorable.” He says putting down his fork and picking up his drink taking a huge slug.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            The rest of our meal ran high with tension. Sexual and violent. I wanted to take her back to the flat and fuck her until she screamed. Not those mewling moans but guttural primal screams. She thought I'd be put off by the crotch grab, no doubt. No. I yearned for her to push me up against the wall and put that deceptively pretty little mouth on mine and those delicate hands down my trousers. I could tell by the way her hand kept flexing that she wanted to bash my face in.
            The commander looks at us from the chair. "Well, there's good news and bad news. Good news is that you've improved. Especially you, Freddie. I won't say we're completely confident you'll pass but we'll have to hope that the threat of a German bullet with knock the stiffness off. Especially yours, Neala. Your body language was brought to my attention. You need to be more natural with Freddie."
            "Is that the bad news?"
            The commander levels his at her. It goads her so much to know I'm doing better than she is. "No, Mrs. Page. Our timetable has been bumped up. You're leaving by the end of the week."
            We both stand up in shock. "What?!"
            "No choice. It's now or never." The commander stands. "Get this sorted by Friday." He takes his leave. I can practically see her brain working a mile a minute.
            "I'll be in the drawing room." I can't stand her pacing. I lay down on one of the couches and close my eyes. The mention of James brought a frown. No way could she know. It wasn't in my file. What did her majesty's service care about another dead airman?
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            A while later, Freddie had fallen asleep on the couch and looked at the time. Jesus, he really wasn’t getting any kind of decent sleep with this weird ass arrangement they were literally forced into by direct orders. He couldn’t imagine she was sleeping any better. Stretching his back slightly he stood up scratching his head a bit to go and find Neala. They had to come to some sort of understanding here. They couldn’t just fuck around anymore; they had to make this work.

            “Neala?” He said going from room to room not finding her. God damn her, if she left again without telling him especially when they were so close to being shipped out over enemy lines, he was going to kick her ass over the English Channel.

            However he walked through the kitchen and stopped hearing something like a sharp thump against the back room wall. After a half a minute or so the noise came again. Following it, he walked through the kitchen and opening the door. They didn’t use that room, this was a temporary set up and it wasn’t like either of them had much more then the clothes on their backs and maybe one or two suitcases each. They didn’t need all the room in this place.

            He stepped inside only to have something fly past his head just barely missing his face with a flash or a shimmer. His eyes went wide seeing a long sharp throwing knife sticking out of the wall just inches past his face. Several other knifes were sticking out of the wall as well and he turned seeing that Neala was throwing knives into a large poster she was using as a target. “JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST!” He exclaimed.

            Holding another throwing knife she placed her hand on her hip arching a brow and just staring at him. “You’re a solider Captain Page, for God’s sake start acting like it.” She said seriously.

            “It’s bad enough I was chosen to be sent on this assignment, despite that I follow orders and do my duty.” He said seriously. “However being paired with a lunatic might be a bit past the line for me!” She narrowed her eyes at him a moment before she suddenly threw the knife she was holding as it flew past him once more. This time he felt it touch his hair. He turned to see she had landed her weapon square in the middle of the figure on the poster’s throat. There was no mistaking a kill shot. At once he stormed over and grabbed her by the shoulder shoving her backwards and slamming her hard against the wall. “Here I am worrying about the Goddamn enemy trying to kill me, when you’re fucking using me for target practice!!” He roared.

            “I actually hit my target every single time, Captain Page. I don’t miss!” She shouted back at him, “I hit what I am at! Always!” She said trying to push him off, however he was stronger than she was by far. Especially when he was as angry as he was right now. He had a volatile temper, but alas so did Neala.

            “I have had just about enough of your bull shit little girl.” He said through his teeth starring into her eyes clenching his hand tight around her shoulder like a vice, his nails digging into her skin hard enough it would probably bruise and leave marks. “This ice queen routine of yours is going to get us both fucking killed. You need to grow the fuck up and get over whatever this little teenage hissy fit is supposed to be.” He hissed.

            Her look darkened as she suddenly reached out with her free hand grabbing his crotch tight and twisting slightly. “You can get your damn hands off me and back off, or you can become a eunuch.” She nearly growled at him. “Your choice fly boy.” She warned.

            A wave of fury over took him that she would dare threaten him like that and without thinking his hand snapped up and wrapped tight around her throat slamming her hard against the wall again, his other hand releasing her shoulder, grabbing her wrist he pulled her hand away from his crotch and twisted it backwards. “You intolerable fucking slag!” He shouted at her. It seemed like the harsh blow against the wall had been hard enough to knock her wind from her slightly but she clinched her jaw unwilling to make a sound or show it, her eyes meeting his glare head on with no intention of backing down or surrendering. Unconsciously he slid her further up the wall slightly his hand tightening around her throat.

            As he stared into her eyes something dawned on him. She could get out of this if she really wanted to. She was far better trained in hand to hand combat then he was, his size and strength didn’t mean a single thing. If she wanted to drop him to the floor and break his neck . . . she could do it. So why wasn’t she? It was a half hearted threat she’d made to him moments before. A threat she didn’t even have to make, she could have just disabled him . . . if not just killed him outright, and walked away without even messing up her hair.

            God damn this woman, even having been working out and practicing with her weapons for a while, long enough to have sweat shimmering on her skin. It was strange seeing a woman in work out clothing, but fuck . . . the way it clung tight to her body he could see every rise and fall of her chest with each labored breath. The way her cleavage showed at the low cut neckline, the tight shirt showing every single inch of her gifted buxom form. God, her breasts were impressive, and perfect. Her lips were a deeper red then usual with the heat from inside her between her exercises and her rage, her eyes staring at him with such intensity that were it possible he would burst into flames right here. She was so beautiful, perfect skin, tone fit body, the sweet way she smelled all the time. He couldn’t stand this pure torture another day.

            Neala stared at him, the wild look in his eye of fury and anger. It was beyond exciting, and although she shouldn’t, the feel of his large hand wrapped around her throat constricting her air flow was sending little pulses of pleasure through her body. Anyone else in the world, even her German lover if they would even touch her throat, she’d leave them dead, bruised, broken, bleeding and dismembered for even hinting at it. But for some reason, in this instance, she couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want him to. It was terrifying, and it was making her angrier by the second, “Fuck you.” She hissed at him.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            What are you doing, Page! My fingers squeezed just so. But there was only a slight shiver of fear in her eyes. I bare my teeth, my pressing my lean hard body against hers. My blood is on fire. Neala's grip on my dick sent that fire. She sets me aflame and I loathe her for it. I bring my face a mere breath from hers. She doesn't flinch. In fact, she's trembling. I can feel her hardened nipples pressing into my chest.
            "Next time you touch my dick, you better be prepared to suck or fuck, little girl."
            I crank her chin up with my hand. My kiss is bruising and invasive, forcing her jaw open to me. I taste her blood on my tongue from my teeth cutting those luscious lips. I turn my hip into her and grind into her sex. She moans softly. Her taste electrifies me but her body doesn't yield to me. And I won't take what's not given. She thinks me crass. A womanizer. But I'm no rapist.
            I let her go. My own chest heaves with lust and need. She's conflicted. I can see that. Abruptly, I leave the room. I can't leave the flat without her. I pace the bedroom but throwing balcony door open, despite the chill.
            The cigarette smoke fills my lungs, clears my head. It calms me momentarily. But I know when the night comes, I'll have to crawl into bed with her. So close I could reach out and touch her. "Fuck."
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Neala sat in silence in the back room sharpening her push daggers. She kept them razor sharp at all times but it was also something she did when her mind was troubled. What in the hell happened with Freddie earlier tonight? He touched her, outside of the job. He threatened her, and she let him do it. What in the hell possessed her to let him do such things? No one else, enemy or ally would have ever walked away from doing such a deadly and foolish thing.

            She looked at the first blade and found it extremely sharp blowing on it slightly checking that the edge was straight before putting it aside and picking up the next one pressing it against the sharpening stone. She hated Freddie. She hated him from the first time they were introduced and he turned on that gold plated charm he used with all women. The flirty eyes, the suggestive smile, the arrogant wink. It made her want to break his teeth in. But why? It wasn’t like he was the first man with such confidence in his abilities when it came to women. To be honest he wasn’t the worst one either, the others who were spies that were trained similar to her were far worse. Because inciting women into bed was one of the ways to get sensitive information from them. Seducing women, sleeping with them, and leaving them high and dry. Just one of the many techniques employed in their line of work.

            So what was it about Freddie that agitated her so? What was worse . . . what was it about Freddie that found her wanting to touch him, and taste him, and feel his strong arms, his muscular chest, to slide her fingers through that hair that had way to much product in it. He was far more appealing when he first came out of the shower, before he shaved and started combing that garbage into his head.

            Her mind wondered back to when he was sleeping that night. The pain in his voice, in his face, the ghostly look in his eyes as he relived a nightmare he had suffered through. Then when she relieved his physical pain and tension, the way he lay there so peacefully, so innocent and quiet. She remembered wanting to touch him. To stroke his face, to taste his lips, to lay beside him using the warmth of her body to comfort him further. Her hand slowed on the sharpening stone as she felt the strange feelings that welled up inside of her that first night for a man that she absolutely loathed to be in the same room with.

            Her mind wondered to the way his strong tall body looked as he lay among the sheets. The curve of his hip, the line of those silly pajama bottoms he wore concealed just enough for modesty. Of course she’d noticed the bulge in his trousers long ago, he was a gifted man in that area. Much more so then most. she could easily see where his ego and confidence with women stemmed from. Not that she had ever been that impressed with the root of all males self image came from. To define yourself, you’re an entire existence by your genitals tended to make her roll her eyes and scoff. She knew men with half the endowment that Freddie had and three times the undeserved ego because of it.

            When she grabbed his crotch, she felt a jolt of desire run through her. Both times she had done it, it was with every intent of bringing him to his knees with one of the best ways she knew how to cause men pain. However she didn’t. She didn’t twist, she didn’t clutch, she didn’t dig her nails into his sensitive flesh, she didn’t press her thumb into his balls, or the hundreds of ways she knew to cause lasting and perhaps even damaging pain to a man. All she did was grip firmly in a threatening way. She wanted to hurt him, or so she thought. When the opportunity was there, … she couldn’t. She couldn’t cause him pain, she couldn’t emasculate him with a flick of the wrist, the pressure of her fingers. She held no reverence whatsoever with using any and all of her knowledge to her advantage. Especially with someone larger then her, stronger then her, but with Freddie when he was flat out manhandling her and could have injured her badly . . . . she couldn’t hurt him.

            With this realization her eyes narrowed, her jaw clinched, and her hands gripped her knife and sharpening block so hard her fingers turned white. Not since she was a small child, orphaned completely with no family anywhere in the world and completely alone, snatched up by a secret branch of the British government to be trained and somewhat experimented on to become a tool, a deadly assassin and spy, did she felt hesitant to protect herself. She was put into action for the first time when she was 12, she was 4 when they chose her and took her away. She’d made the decision long ago to never let anyone have any power over her whatsoever.

            She wasn’t a complete ice queen bitch. She did feel for the men in the field that she was surrounded with since the war started. The soldiers didn’t have the same mental discipline and training as she did. They were kids out of school, out of workhouses, off of farms. They were just normal children pulled into a war to defend their families and homes against the threat of invasion. They weren’t trained killers like she and others like her were. The lasting damage, the terror, the pain that so many suffered broke her heart. Despite what so many thought of her, and despite what her superiors would have liked, she did have a heart, she did have feelings, and she wasn’t blind to the effects of this war on her countrymen. There were times when it made her fight even harder, and made her crueler to those who would cause such pain on innocent men and women.

            However although she did feel compassion for them, she knew she wasn’t one of them and she never lost sight of the job. Never did she let her feelings get in the way or hinder her mission. At least until Freddie. She didn’t realize before tonight just how much she wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, she wanted him to kiss her, she actually wanted him . . . . to take her. To devour her entire body, to have his large strong hands all over her form, to feel him naked and pressed up against her own unclothed body.

            Her eyes went wide realizing where her mind had wondered to and she shook her head throwing her knife as it stuck in the far wall and slamming her sharpening stone down on the table as she stood slamming her fist against the wood. She didn’t even like the bastard and he hated her just as much. If she did have to fuck him for the job, there was no way he was taking control. She would be calling the shots, he would be at her mercy, and she wouldn’t quit until he had nothing left and she’d still keep going until SHE was done.

            Neala’s eyes closed and immediately her mind sunk back into another vision of his lying beneath her, covered in sweat, his shaking hands clutching to her hips as her strong thighs moved her body down onto his hard member, squeezing and clutching around him feeling him twitch deep inside her begging for release, but each time he was close she’d slow or stop her movements, digging her nails into his chest, her other hand reaching down between them and squeezing the base of his sensitive throbbing cock tight, her thighs clamped down on his hips not allowing him move or to cum as she began to thrust her body down onto him again. Not until SHE was ready. She’d bring him to tears first.

            Then her mind began to wonder a little further in the wrong direction. She could almost taste his kiss on her lips. The taste of cigarettes and whiskey, his tongue invading her mouth pulling hers into his own as he kissed her deeper still. A shutter went down her spine at the memory and her hand clutched to her breast slightly, her breasts having become achingly sensitive at the thought of his lips around them his hot breath as he would suckle each of her nipples. His large strong hands wrapped around her holding her body in place as he tasted each one. Her breath became deeper as she squeezed and massaged them slightly trying to e
            Neala caught herself yet again and squeezed her eyes tight trying to push the thoughts from her mind, as she shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. The thought of his slamming her up against the wall, his hand clamped tight around her wrists as he pinned them in place above her head entered her mind. He was so much stronger then her physically and for some reason that was setting her body onfire against her will. The way his other hand would move possessively down over her body before grasping her skirt and pulling it up high above her waist, as he would kick her feet apart. What if she would try to close them, to clamp her legs tight denying him access? He would force his knee between her thighs as his hand roughly pulled her panties aside if not ripping them off completely, and his fingertips would slide into her wet folds and begin to pinch and stroke her sensitive swollen clit forcing her to feel pleasure at his touch.

            She growled at herself, “STOP IT!” She roared at herself her eyes starring up to the ceiling. She was in charge of her own mind, over her own body and she wasn’t going to allow this. She hated him, she had to focus on how much she hated the womanizing arrogant prick. It was the only way she was going to get through this mission with her dignity intact. She had to retain control over herself, over her thoughts, and stop thinking about the way it would feel to have him caress her, to kiss her, possess her, . . . . take her ”Neala, STOP it!” She said again forcefully. Instantly she picked up her weapons off the table and began to work. To practice her techniques, to sharpen her skills before they left for Germany on Friday. That would take her mind off such things; make her thoughts her own again. The mission, she had to focus on the mission.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            My back stretches as I make some attempt to limber up. Laying next to her had proved to be too much so I'd admitted defeat and took blanket and pillow to the couch.
            The sounds of her in the kitchen woke me up. But as I'm awake, I'd rather avoid her. We'll be in Berlin in three days time. I'd have no place to run from her then.
            As I pass the kitchen, she's humming. A French lullaby. I turn into the kitchen instead of going to the loo. I step up behind her.
            "Morning, Neala." I glance at her empty face before leaning down to kiss her exposed throat. She sucks in a breath. "A husband would kiss his wife in the morning. I would mine." She doesn't respond. I sigh and leave the room. "I know you despise my presence but I'd prefer not to get executed because we can't play house." I close the door to the bathroom and do my business. Drawing a bath, I can think of nothing but her.
            Her soft skin. Her pouty lips. The way her hair falls in her face and frustrates her when she's concentrating. The way her breasts move when she's asleep. Her lips part just so. I imagine them wrapped around my dick, licking and sucking. Her delicate little fingers playing with my balls. Her hair would feel so soft fisted in my hands. Would she moan if I fucked her face? I dunk my head under water. Dammit, Page. Now you're painfully hard. I close my eyes and try to relax.

            The heavy bag sways with each of my strikes. Right jab. Left jab. Right hook. Right jab. Underhook. I step back. The image of her beneath me, her mouth open in a moan. I can almost feel her nails digging into my back. "Fuck!" I go at the bag again in a flurry of punches. Her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Her legs squeezing my waist as she arches her back and lifts her hips off the bed. Oh god. I want to feel her pussy clamp around my cock. The bag swings violently with each strike. The sun shines down on me but my breath is fog in the air.
            I want to fuck her so bad it hurts. And I want to hurt her. She's probably never had dick like mine. I'd stretch that pretty little cunt and hit the back. Make her keen like a feral cat in heat. The boxing isn't working. With a frustrated growl, I pick up the lawn chair and throw it. The potted plants crash the ground.
            "Freddie Page! What are you doing?" She comes out the back door of the flat. I've lost my mind. I stalk across the yard. My mouth crashes into hers, my frustration a dam about to fail. I walk to her back into the house and against the wall. My knee lifts her up. She gasps and pushes back against the wall and my shoulders.
            "What are you doing?"
            "Losing my fucking mind!" I grab the sides of her shirt and rip the buttons apart. My lips and teeth savage her throat and the tops of her breasts. My fingers seek her treasure. If any woman possessed vagina dentata, it'd be my 'wife'. But losing a finger would be worth the moist, hot flesh clenching around my growls. The zipper of my trousers bites into my swollen cock. Its jealous of my fingers.
            "Freddie. Freddie!" I jerk back to myself. "You're doing that staring thing again."
            I roll my shoulders. "Sorry."
            She squints into the sunlight. "Lunch is ready."
            I pull my shirt and jacket from the back of the lawn chair and cross the lawn. She steps out of the way. There's blood on my knuckles through the wraps. Three more days then maybe she wouldn't be invading my thoughts like a succubus.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
            Neala got out of the shower and dried off putting on her undergarments. She sat down on the bed as she put her pantyhose on making certain that the seam was straight as she pulled them up each thigh and hooked them to her garter belt. She stood and walked over to the mirror making certain everything was straight and where it was supposed to go, and slipped her heels on buckling them at the ankle before standing in the mirror again and looking yourself over.

            Freddie opened the door and came into the bedroom, “Neala what time did they say they wanted us to be there for the . . . .” He stopped midsentence seeing her in her matching lacy panties and the push up bra, the matching garter belt that held her stockings in place, . She turned and looked at him arching her brow and resting her hand on her hip.

            “You were saying, Captain?” She said prompting him to finish his thought.

            He cleared his throat and turned his eyes away walking over to the dresser getting his wallet and putting on his watch. “What time are we meant to be there for the briefing?” Not that he really cared anymore, his pants were a bit tight as the image of her standing before him half clothed. In underwear that wasn’t the common attire for your modern average house wife. She always dressed to kill from the skin out. How was it fair? How was it fair that such a stone cold bitch had such a beautiful perfect body and utter distain for him? That was just life being extremely cruel.

            Neala half smiled and shook her head walking over and picking up her skirt slipping it on and buttoning it down the side. “An hour.” She answered as she picked up her blouse and put it on over her head and buttoned it up as well before walking over and sitting at the vanity putting on her ear rings looking at him in the mirror.

            Thinking about anything that would ease the ache and keep himself from becoming harder and more obvious. “We’re getting our papers and ID’s today, yes?” He said trying to keep his mind straight as he pulled socks out of his drawer. He didn’t really need to change his socks, but he was going to change them any way so he didn’t just look like a moron staring at the wall and had purpose for having come in here unannounced.

            “They should be ready. Most likely our props as well, such as the wedding rings that you continue to insist on bringing up that they are missing.” She said remembering that day at lunch when they were poking at each other trying to see who would crack first.

            “I just don’t understand how we can be newly married, madly in love and lust with each other, and be missing the most basic damn thing that comes first and foremost.” He said imagining walking up behind her and wrapping his hands around her breasts squeezing the plump and generous orbs in his palms. Leaning down and pressing his teeth to the soft flesh of her neck hearing her moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

            “Because we’re playing house to learn how to get along . . . . at least that was the intention, and didn’t need to convince anyone of our relationship.” She turned looking at him. “Would be interesting, your having to explain how your suddenly not married to the people you know wouldn’t it. Considering this is a black ops mission.”

            Freddie narrowed his eyes and shook his head hearing that condescending tone she used when she wanted to make it quite clear she thought he was an idiot. Neala’s eyes moved to his back as she saw him bent over putting on his socks. God, the way his thighs looked when his trousers were stretched tight against them. Her mind wondered to what it would be like to feel his thigh between her own feeling him against her causing her hips to shift and rub against him. “Oh for crying out loud!” She shouts covering her eyes with her hand. Freddie jumped and turned looking at her.

            “What is it?” He said at her sudden outburst.

            She looked at him eyes wide not realizing she had said that out loud. It just jumped out. Picking up her hat she turned back towards the mirror and put it on slipping her hat pin in. Freddie couldn’t help but admire her form when she raised her arms above her head to put on her hat. The line of her body, her breasts, her waist, her hip. Putting his shoes on he stood and immediately left the room to allow her to finish getting ready and just needing to breathe. He went out on the balcony and lit a cigarette taking a deep drag closing his eyes and blowing out the smoke leaning on the railing.

(Continued --> )
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

In The Shadows