Using sex to get to him was the next-best option. I knew I looked good. Taking special care of my body and staying fit was another compulsory,andI’d been taught how to seduce with my walk, my eyes, my words.
But seducing men was my least favorite thing on the list. Men, I hated them with a churning, bitter passion.
And even if Ididchose the seduction route, I’d probably have to work three times as hard to win him, because I’d heard through the loquacious strippers that he wasn’t a fuck-around. He was the “relationship” kind.
If he had a girlfriend, it would’ve been easier to befriend her and use her as a channel to get to him. Become BFFs, turn her gay-for-me or some shit. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen him with anyone for the months I’ve been watching him.
So basically I was stuck. For now.
I just had to wait it out.
Therefore, as much as I didn’t care to go to Empty Cage tonight, I had to. Because every Monday, Wednesday and Friday was an opportunity. One never knew when an opening would come. I wasn’t sent to San Francisco to fuck, relax, and live a normal lesbian life. I didn’t have that privilege. I was there to kill a man who some anonymous moneybag wanted dead real bad—badly enough to have sent one dozen different men who’d failed to succeed, losing their own lives instead.
“But you have to,” Sydney mumbled, kissing along my collarbone. “How else are you gonna take down that big, bad drug lord you’ve been investigating for months?”
Sydney was my temporary girlfriend for five of the six months I’d been in SF. She believed I was an FBI agent, undercover as a stripper, sent here to investigate a notorious drug lord—thanks to my fake badge and ID.
Just as I liked them, she was blonde, pretty, and had a wicked tongue. Convenient for the time being.
She thought she loved me. She thought I gave a shit.
I had her move in with me because I liked having her around. Being alone was possibly my only fear; so wherever I went, I always tried to have at least one innocuous person around me.
After my family was murdered, I was captured, imprisoned, and enslaved. Abused and raped.
Trained to fight. Trained to kill.
So now that I was loaned freedom on a short string, I made use of it by inviting a harmless person every now and again into my space. Preferably someone who could bring me both normalcy and pleasure. They crossed me, I killed them. Though no one ever actually did.
Sydney was six years older than me. I was freshly twenty-two. She didn’t know that, though. She believed me older. I mean, where would you find a twenty-two-year-old FBI agent sent to ‘investigate’ a massive drug lord on their own? But because I was more mature than the average twenty-two-year-old, I pulled the lies off well.
That and my supposed wealth. How could a twenty-two-year-old afford to own an apartment in one of the most expensive apartment complexes in SF? Or drive the latest Niiveux sports car?
They were all temporary gifts from my owner, my captor. But Sydney believed I was rich.
I believed that’s why she thought she loved me. Or why she ignored the signs that I was using her for my own convenience. Because, although she claimed she loved me, she was screwing the pompous doctor who lived two floors below my apartment. She had no idea I knew this. No idea I knew that, as soon as I left for work at night, he was there in my apartment.
I made her none the wiser. Like I said, I liked her company. And instead of going to find someone new, I was sticking to the devil I knew. Keeping her around until my mission was complete.
As soon as Chad was taken down. It would be her turn.
Not tonight, though.
Tonight, I needed that skillful tongue of hers.
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I dragged her face up to mine and took her mouth in a mean, hard kiss. She moaned and squirmed against me, pressing her mound against mine.
“I love you so much,” she whispered when I freed her from the mouth assault.
You don’t even know me.
Drifting my eyes to the ceiling, I tightened my grip on her hair and urged her down, down, down, until her mouth was right where I wanted it to be.
With her teeth, she pulled off my boy-shorts and I flung my legs wide apart then forced her head back between them.
And, as usual, the girl did well serving her purpose.
I once was lost …
