We'd
kissed the dogs goodbye and hit the road, traveling to the south of
France with a new hit and a new handler to officially get back to
work. Unfortunately I was not allowed to bring my new rocket
launcher but I did
pack my sniper rifle even though Frank was still giving me, and it,
a look like we'd conspired against him to save his life and give him
my new favorite scar.
I
set our bags down, looking around the cheap hotel room
that was just slightly bigger than the hotel bathrooms
in America. “Well this is a nice change of pace,” I mused.
“Shitty European
hotels.”
“Don't
even pretend that you aren't loving this,” Frank said, the light in
his eyes proving I wasn't the only one pleased with our unpleasant
surroundings.
“I
said
it was nice.” I draped my arms around his neck, barely containing
my excitement but determined not to show it. My first hit in years,
my first hit in Europe, I was older, wiser, and undoubtedly more
attractive. It just wouldn't do to scream like a girl at a Justin
Beiber concert. At least not until the job was done.
“It
is
nice,” Frank agreed.
“And
shitty.”
He
looked into my eyes, a smirk crawling across his lips. “So...”
And
that was all it took. “OhmyGodwe'rebacktowork!” I squealed,
jumping up on him and nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Thank
fuck,” he sighed with relief, spinning me around and then flopping
down on top of me on the bed. “God I love you.”
I
gave him a quick kiss, since we were both smiling too much to
properly make out. “I can't wait to shoot him.”
Frank
raised an eyebrow. “Who says you're
shooting him?”
“It's
a sniper job, it's mine.”
He
gave a noncommittal, “Hmm,” and moved off of me, that expression
on his face like I was about to find out he'd eaten the last of my
ice cream.
“What?”
I demanded.
“Nothing.
It just wasn't really a set rule—”
“You
said, and I quote...” I paused, since quoting Frank didn't actually
account for much. “Well, you said 'yes' when I asked if all sniper
jobs were mine. Or at least you nodded. But you did agree!”
“Hmm.”
I
punched him in the arm, since that particular “Hmm” was clearly
Frank-not-speak
for Vincent is wrong. “And you killed Silva after promising I
could do it.”
“It
was a special circumstance,” he said broodingly.
“And
now it's my turn.”
“When
are we meeting Joe?”
I allowed Frank to change the
subject so he could salvage some pride over his obvious defeat. The
job was mine and he damn well knew it. “He's coming over tonight.”
“Hmm.”
“I
know it's not the way Charlie did things but sometimes we have to
accept change.”
He forced a smile. “Yes,
dear.”
I pulled him back down on top of
me and his smile became genuine. “Anyway, I believe you were just
saying how much you loved me.”
“Mmm
hmm,” he purred, leaning over me and sliding his hand under my
shirt only for a knock at the door to totally kill the moment. “This
would be why handlers are not invited to hotels.” He got up and
pulled the door open, gesturing with annoyance for Joe to enter.
“I'm
on time,” Joe said defensively as he came in.
“Next
time, be late.” Frank shut the door behind him.
I propped myself up on my
elbows, enjoying the increasingly uncomfortable expression on Joe's
face as it dawned on him what he must've been interrupting. “Hi,
Joe.”
“Vincent.”
He nodded to me, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Frank, who
was still standing by the door, making no attempt at subtlety. “I'll
make this quick.”
“Thanks.”
I grinned and expectantly held out my hand.
We already knew who the mark
was; his photograph had been on our fridge for weeks. We knew how we
were going to kill him. We even had our money. All we needed from
Joe was the where and when, and he handed over a slip of paper with
an address. “You're all set for Saturday.”
Frank opened the door again.
Joe just chuckled. “Call me
if you need anything. Otherwise I'll see you in Genoa.”
“Bye,
Joe,” I said chipperly.
Frank said nothing, barely
letting the poor man get out the door before shutting it on him.
“How
far away is Genoa?” I asked excitedly, thinking myself quite the
world traveler for having been in all of four countries, not to
mention that I was an international superassassin who'd saved
everyone's lives.
“Few
hours.”
“Oh.
Right” I still couldn't get my head around the fact that
countries in Europe were so close together. It took longer than that
to drive the length of Illinois.
Frank sat beside me on the bed,
taking the slip of the paper and looking it over for just a few
seconds before sparking his lighter and setting the corner on fire.
I leaned in closer, watching the address burn away and then blowing
it out. Frank glanced sideways at me, a dumbstruck grin on his face
and the charred remains of the paper still between his fingers. “I
think that is quite possibly the sexiest thing you've ever done.”
Of course Frank would get off on
fire. I obscenely licked my lips, then moved forward to lick his.
He grabbed my hair, tugging my head away and sucking on my neck.
“Fuck me until Saturday,” I panted.
Frank stopped just to torture
me. “We have work to do.”
“We
are
working.” I pulled off his shirt, then mine. “See? Wardrobe.”
Smiling widely, he slid my pants
down over my hips. He stopped to kiss my scar before he took them
off, messily folding them and tossing them aside. He stood up,
unfastening his belt as he kicked off his shoes, being extra cautious
with his left foot since it was still healing from being shot by
Casey and stomped on by me. I was unabashedly drooling by the time
he took his own pants off, standing at attention in all his nude
glory and declaring, “Wardrobe complete.”
“Supplies,”
I said once I regained brain function.
He
nodded, sauntering over to our bag and taking out lube. Then he
reached back into the bag and I sat up with anticipation, watching
eagerly as he removed a black silk Hermรจs
scarf we'd stolen from Bella. He came back to the bed, gently
draping it around my neck and collecting the ends underneath my chin
in his fist. He pulled it towards himself and I obediently rose to
my feet, my eyes on his. “Surveillance,” he said.
I
shuddered, my face flushed. It had been a long time since we played
this
game.
Frank released one end of the
scarf and I backed away from him, the silk slipping across my bare
shoulder. I gave him a coy smile as I turned around, stepping into
his boots for the much needed extra height it would give me to
prolong our position.
He
replaced the scarf and I led the way, stomping most elegantly to the
bathroom with him trailing just far enough behind me to constrict my
breathing. I watched him in the mirror as I leaned over the sink,
standing on my toes in his too-big boots and beginning to stroke
myself for his pleasure. He tugged the scarf as he entered me,
catching my moan in my throat. I braced myself with my other hand on
the mirror, but it did little to keep me in place with the force of
him fucking me as hard as he could. The scarf did the rest, holding
me to him when I nearly collapsed in the brief moments that he
permitted me to breathe.
My
legs were trembling even before I came, and I stopped jerking off
right as I was getting close so I would come for him instead. I
nearly fell over, breathlessly crying out for him, the world spinning
and my body spent.
Frank
placed his hand over mine on the mirror to keep us both from falling
as he tightened the scarf one final time and gave me all the strength
he had left. I gasped for air, meeting his eyes in the mirror, his
grin even wider than mine. Frank laughed and kissed my head, letting
the scarf fall to our feet. “Now,
we're back.”
I
was so excited on the night of the hit that I had to make the journey
up the stairs to the roof twice to burn off some extra energy so my
hands would be steady. Frank just smoked a cigarette.
“Maybe
I should start smoking,” I said as I aimed my rifle.
“You
start smoking and I'll kill you.”
“Maybe
you should stop
smoking.”
“If
I stop smoking I'll kill you.”
I
looked away from our mark to petulantly roll my eyes at my husband.
Frank moved closer to me, lying halfway on top of me so he could look
out the scope. Somehow I found no cause for complaint. “What do
you suppose the next job is?” I asked, admiring the way the
moonlight created shadows across the angles of his face and counting
the seconds until our next rest stop.
“Hopefully
not a sniper one.”
“Don't
mope, this is a happy day.”
“I'm
not moping. You
are.”
I
was about to contradict him since I could've only been happier if his
cock was in me at that exact moment, but he pulled the trigger and
instead I just gasped and punched him in the nose. Frank quickly
held his face to staunch the blood before it became evidence on the
rooftop but he got no sympathy from me. “You fucker you took my
shot!” I seethed, but despite my usual penchant for getting overly
emotional I was able to contain myself enough to start putting the
rifle away since he obviously had his hands full.
“You
got the last two,” he muttered from behind his hand.
I
scoffed, but I couldn't really object because he actually admitted
for once that I was the one to save that day. At least, I couldn't
overly
object. “That was a special circumstance.” I pouted.
“Yes,”
he said, giving me the most winning smile someone with a broken nose
could manage. “And sometimes we have to accept change.”
