Page 11 of Double Shot
When I turned to face my love again, she hadn’t waited, and I was struck for a moment. I watched as her hand danced between her thighs, her fingers moving quicker than I would have guessed.
I took her again, and the pause at the door let me go a little bit longer.
A soul-clenching force wrapped around the base of my cock, my balls drawing tight. I pulled out, and a second later, unloaded on her belly and breasts. Sadie gave a breathy laugh as she held up her hands to stop any errant spunk from getting her in the face. “Oh my God, I hope this train has a shower or something. Holy fuck.”
“Yeah, they have a dressing car, there’s a shower,” I said, lowering myself to kiss her. She kissed me back and pulled me down onto her. The mess was squished between us.
“Now you need a shower too.” She wrapped her legs around me.
“Oh, that's terrible,” I said theatrically. I was able to get the angle right, and I was still stiff enough to slide inside her again. “Oh no, that’s just terrible too.” She gave a laugh, and we laid together for what seemed like the longest time that I had spent with her in entirelytoolong.
The shower facilities on the train were equal parts amazing and incredibly disappointing. For one, they were showers, on a train, so that was the pretty amazing part. On the other hand, they were small, and everything was depressingly plastic. The actual experience was purely functional – modestly hot water, a drain, soap, and just enough of each to get clean. We had a quick nightcap and then went back to our cabin.
We fucked again in the morning. There wasn’t much in the way of foreplay, certainly no romance, and I wasn’t sure what was going on, but when a lady grabs me by the cock and tells me to fuck her, who am I to deny her?
There was a nagging feeling about it, like there was something…off.
Part of me wanted to just hang it on the train ride being boring, part of it was maybe we had some breakthrough by simply getting out of the bunker, or maybe something waswrong. Now probably wasn’t the time to try and figure it out. My answer had been the same for almost every problem I had run into, throughout my life. Advance. Attack. Action. Actions were always worth more than words.
I gave her what she wanted. I enjoyed giving it to her, and by every measure I could see, she enjoyed getting it. After the long drought of the bunker, this was fantastic. I wasn’t my old self, not the Lach before she had come around. I fucked her like I had fucked the escorts, wringing orgasms and moans from her, but I didn’t play my usual finishing moves. There was nothing that was adisplay of dominance, that’s what Roan had called it. When I did degrading things to the escorts, the things that made my dick hard when I thought about them, that had been for me.
Not when it came to my Sadie, though.
I kissed her. I went down on her.
I think he would have approved. I wished to God that he was still here so I could have him unpack this mess for me, tell me what I was doing wrong, or right. I probably would have been an asshole about it, but would have followed what he said. He was smart, and somewhere between boot camp and my first trip to Iraq, I realized that the harder I wanted to fight someone, the more likely they were to be right.
If he were still here, we wouldn’t have gone to the bunker. We would have gone somewhere nice and lived like tourist royalty in another country. Roan and I would have shared Sadie, and I had ideas – things I had seen in videos, things I had paid escorts to do to each other. I liked those ideas, and then there was the stab of pain in my chest.
Revenge wouldn’t bring Roan back, but putting some corpses in the ground would make me feel better.
I had the Escadrille dossier, and there was something like seventeen names on the list of people that we were going to send to Hell, postage due. At the top of that list was the frog general, and his inner circle. The rest were higher echelon members of the Cartel, the sort who handled data, were leaders, the ones who had contacts and connections. There was no point trying to go genocidal on the Cartel. There were thousands of members, from gun-toting thugs keeping the most destitute people in the world under their boot, harvesting poppies, to low-level dealers, couriers, and basic gun-toting thugs.
We were certainly going to take a chunk of them out as well, but once the rampage got rolling, I was expecting to see a lot of desertion in their ranks. A lot of rats were going to bail on that ship before we were done with it.
By the time we disembarked from the train at the DC terminal, I was glad to be free from the damned thing. The room had been plenty nice, but I was tired of everything being cheap, plastic, and barely meeting the basic requirements. I was tired of this fucking peasant shit.
Three hours after escaping the train, we were escorted through the front door of a rental house on Phoenician Boulevard. The house was everything that I had longed for over the last six months. Three stories, a baroque red front door, verandas, a hot tub, and a tankless water heater.
“Is that a dragon carved in the door?” Sadie asked as the rental agent left.
“Yeah, probably,” I said. I took her hand, and we took a brief loop through the house, taking in the opulence of the place – stained-glass windows, a backyard greenhouse and solar, an elaborate and well-equipped kitchen. Made me wish I knew how to cook. The bathroom was the sort of thing I was really aching for. The floors were fitted river stone, and the shower stall itself was hewn from polished blocks of sandstone streaked with white and pink. He would have loved the textures and colors, the polished copper fittings, and there was even a bench that he could have used.
We took turns showering. It wasn’t a lack of interest; it was more a deep and urgent need for a shower so hot and strong that it bordered on punishing.
When Sadie finished –ladies first– she was scalded like a lobster and had a contented smile on her face. “I ordered delivery,” I said with a smile. “Fantastic place that does a killer veal marsala and an olive tapenade appetizer. A couple bottles of wine, and we can pretend like everything is okay.” Her smile toned down slightly in its wattage and she gave me a kiss.
It felt like a Sadie kiss, not like the earlier kisses, not as urgent or demanding. Softer, more… I don’t know.
I liked it, though. I didn’t really know how to handle aggro Sadie. Ilikedaggro Sadie, but that was going to take some getting used to.
“The rest should start arriving tonight. There should be a few deliveries, some clothing, and some other special things.”
“Special things?” she asked, arching one dark eyebrow.
“Guns, guns are the special thing,” I said. My phone rang, and it startled the shit out of both of us.
“Hello?” It was a very polite young lady. She worked for the old man who made our body armor, reinforced vests, and other combat-tailored clothing.
