6 |
6 |Kane/Fang Residence, Fairfax Towers Falls Church, Virginia
Dylan Kane collapsed on top of his partner, completely spent, completely satisfied, and completely in love. Lee Fang was everything he could have asked for in a woman, and more. She was the only woman he had ever loved, the only woman he didn’t have to lie to about what he did for a living, and the only woman he was fairly certain would have a good chance of kicking his ass.
“I love feeling you on top of me. It makes me feel safe.”
He propped up on his elbows and smiled down at her, her cheeks flushed, sweat drenching both their bodies. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”
“I love you.”
His smile broadened. “I love you too.” He leaned in and kissed her gently, then with a passion that threatened to signal the beginning of round four, their lovemaking having begun almost the moment he had crossed the threshold, returning from a three-week mission in Asia, the least exotic stop, Hong Kong.
She was lonely here, and he hated that fact, though moving into the same building where his best friend lived with his girlfriend, both CIA, did help. They knew her back story, and they knew she was living in exile from a Chinese government she had betrayed to save it from rogue generals attempting to trigger a coup in America. It meant an isolated existence. She couldn’t work, she lived off a generous stipend provided by a grateful America, and kept busy staying fit, learning about her new country, and making him feel like the luckiest man alive. He had extracted her from China, then fallen in love, as they both recognized themselves in each other.
It had been fate.
“We’re supposed to have dinner with Chris and Sherrie in less than thirty minutes.”
Kane grinned. “I can do thirty.”
“But we both have to shower and get dressed.”
Her gasps between each word told him she was seriously considering canceling their dinner plans. “Let’s save time and change the venue.” He climbed off her, somebody wagging hello, and grabbed her svelte, short frame, slinging her over his shoulder as he walked her caveman-style into the bathroom, her giggles and playful slaps of his ass signaling her consent with the manhandling. He lowered her onto the counter and she grabbed onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and he gasped as they once again became one.
“Shower!” she cried as their passion grew, and he carried her over to the shower stall, pulling open the door and stepping inside, their bodies still entangled, then pushed her against the wall. She grasped for the tap, spinning it, and they both gasped at the ice-cold water that drenched them for the first few moments before it finally reached the temperature they were already at.
His watch pulsed a coded signal into his skin, a signal only he could detect from the CIA modified Tag Heuer.
He cursed.
“What?”
“My watch.”
“Don’t…you…dare…” She cried out and he gave into his own desires, setting duty aside if only for a few more moments. Spent again, she slid down his body then stared up at him, slapping his cheek gently. “You may go now.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes I think I’m just a piece of meat to you.”
“I wonder if that’s why they call it ‘porking?’”
Kane snorted. “Where did you hear that?”
She shrugged as she lathered up. “Some old comedy on Netflix.”
“Well, let’s not share that one in polite company.” He activated his watch and his eyebrows shot up at the message scrolling across the display.
“What does it say?
“Umm, don’t be late for dinner.”
She paused her ablutions. “Huh?”
He reread it. “It says, ‘Don’t be late for dinner.’” He looked up at her. “What do you think that means?”
She resumed washing her incredibly fit body. “I’m guessing Chris is playing a trick on you.”
He grunted. “More likely Sherrie. Chris knows better.”
Chris Leroux was his best friend from high school, and after discovering they both worked for the CIA, their friendship had been rekindled, and they were as close as they had ever been. In fact, Leroux was one of the few people in this world he trusted, besides, of course, Fang and Leroux’s partner Sherrie White, a fellow CIA Agent.
And, of course, his old buddies from his stint in Delta.
Leroux was an Analyst Supervisor, an accomplishment for someone so young, but his skills were second to none, and Director Morrison had given him a chance with his own team. It had worked out brilliantly—once the painfully shy guy had gained some confidence and learned how to be a boss rather than just the guy receiving orders.
He was his best friend, and they were due for dinner in only minutes.
But Leroux would never abuse the CIA’s communications infrastructure for a joke message.
Though he might use Kane’s own private network.
Over the years, as a self-preservation measure, Kane had set up a series of secure servers around the world, known only to himself, in case he was disavowed for some reason, or something were to happen to his country’s ability to communicate with him. This backup network assured communications with those he trusted, and a rare few knew how to send him discrete messages, those then relayed to his watch or other select devices.
And it was something he couldn’t see Leroux abusing.
But Sherrie…
She was a joker, and did have access, yet again, he doubted it.
He stepped back into the shower.
“No hanky-panky.”
He nodded. “No time.” He quickly showered as Fang stepped out, toweling off. She eyed him.
“That message has you concerned.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You haven’t looked at me since you got it.”
He paused for a moment, making a point of ogling her. “Better?”
She snapped the towel at him. “A little.” She headed for the bedroom. “You don’t think Chris or Sherrie sent it, do you?”
He shut the water off and began to dry himself. “No, I don’t.”
“Then who?”
He quickly towel-dried his hair. “No idea, but the list is very short.”
“Who else knew we had dinner plans?”
He stepped over to the vanity and grabbed the antiperspirant. “That’s just it. Besides us, Chris, and Sherrie, I can’t think of anyone.”
Fang reentered, sporting a bra and panties, going to work on her hair.
“Going for the wet look?”
She frowned at him. “No time to dry my hair now, thanks to you.”
“I think someone else can share in the blame.”
She reached down and squeezed Kane Jr. “He rarely gets a say in the matter.”
He chuckled. “Don’t start something we don’t have time to finish.”
Her hand jerked away. “You’re insatiable.”
He placed a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Only for you, babe, only for you.” He headed for the bedroom and quickly dressed, returning to join Fang in their shared bathroom, finishing up then admiring himself in the mirror. “How do I look?”
“Like a very satisfied man.”
He gave the mirror a toothy smile. “I am gorgeous, aren’t I?”
Fang struck a pose beside him. “A gorgeous couple?”
He nodded. “Yup. I’m gorgeous, and you make us a couple.”
She swatted him, a feigned hurt expression reflected in the mirror. “Careful, I might just cut you off.”
“Why punish yourself?”
She swatted him harder. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
He presented an ass cheek. “You know I love it when you spank me.”
She growled, heading for the bedroom. “You have a one-track mind sometimes.”
He struck a pose just for himself. “Is that wrong?”
“Not unless we’ve got plans.”
He double-checked himself then inhaled quickly at the sight of the love of his life as she stepped into the bathroom, a stylish yet casual outfit accentuating her fit frame. “My God you’re gorgeous.”
She beamed a smile at him then gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks!” She checked her watch. “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”
Kane patted her bum as they left the confines of the bathroom. “It’s not like there’s going to be any traffic.” They stepped out of their apartment and into the hallway. “Want to squeeze in a quickie on the elevator?”
She flipped him the bird.
“Huh, I didn’t think that was a thing in China.”
“I’m picking up new habits.” She motioned toward the stairwell. “Let’s take the stairs. I skipped my workout. Every bit counts.”
“I wasn’t workout enough for you?”
She winked at him. “Baby, you’ve seen me work out. What do you think?”
He had to acknowledge her point, no matter how much it might bruise his ego. Her workouts were intense. Incredibly intense. Far beyond anything he ever did. It accounted for her stunning body, every muscle and sinew on display when she was at full tilt, yet not bulging so as to make him think he might have a short dude in the sack with him. “I invoke my Fifth Amendment right to remain silent.”
She grinned then opened the door. He reached out and grabbed her arm, a voice echoing through the stairwell, a voice out of place.
It was too business like.
He pulled her back into the hallway then cautiously stepped forward, his ear cocked, listening for anything, though hearing nothing but his own breathing. He silently stepped to the rail and looked down, then jerked back at the sight of a man in a business suit standing two floors down.
At Leroux’s landing.
And it was someone he recognized.
“What is it?” whispered Fang.
“I think I might have figured out who sent that message.”