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‘Shit, is he your—?’ You let out a huff, cutting off the rest of Benjy’s sentence as you watch Agent Walker rob your target.
Exes are exes for a reason.
But August isn’t a regular ex.
You didn’t expect to see him while you were on mission. All things considered you probably should have; the CIA rides the IMF’s dick better than you used to ride his.
He hadn’t spotted you yet, and it was a fucking relief. Until he intercepted your hand off and got the flash drive you’ve been following up and down Prague for three weeks.
‘He’s got it, hasn’t he. Shit. Um. Any backup plans?’
Fucking asshole. CIA’s favorite lapdog.
The club you’re in is massive, so you can trail him fairly comfortably while you try to figure out a plan. The flash drive goes into his left side pocket. He moves through the crowd like a freight ship cutting through the sea, his broad shoulders giving him a wide berth. Fuck, you may hate him, but he’s still a gorgeous man.
And you could call it; it’s technically in an ally’s hands now, so you can theoretically retreat.
But the Director would be pissed, and Benjy would never let you hear the end of it.
And. If you’re keeping it two Virgils, you haven’t gotten laid in a while. This has absolutely the fuck nothing to do with missing him. You don’t.
But you do know for a fact he misses you.
Right. Fuck.
“Herod,” you say, pulling the slim contact case from your bra; you hear Benjy perk up from his desk in your ear.
‘Yeah?’
“Shut up and be ready.” You slip the contact from your eye and the intel lining up on the right side of your face immediately disappears. You slip the contact in it’s housing and snap it closed, then tuck it back in your bra. Then tug your ear until Benjy is just barely audible background noise in the din of the club.
‘Be ready for what? Hello? Salome? You’ve gone silent. Come in, Salo—right. Shut up. Shutting up.’
Your nerves settle once you sidle up next to August at the bar and he clocks you.
“I’ve been wondering when you were gonna come over and say hi,” he murmurs, nudging a mojito the bartender just set down over to you. Your eyes narrow as you deliberately push the drink back and August snorts.
“For how long?” You reply, tilting your head to match his. His jaw tics, and you smile. You’ve always been better at stealth than him. “Couple minutes, maybe?”
“Let’s just cut to the chase, then, hm?” You smile.
“What did you have in mind?” August leans back in his stool, his legs spread, and shit, you really forgot how massive he is all over.
“You’re here for the list, aren’t you?”
“What list?” August rolls his eyes.
“Don’t fuck with me, I know you.” You nod and hold up the bright silver decoy flash drive.
“Ahhhhhhhh, you mean the one I switched out an hour ago?” August’s brows furrow; he watches as you lift the hem of your dress and tuck it into a pocket sewn in the left band of your thigh highs, right in between your legs.
“You’re bullshitting me, aren’t you?” You shake your head, smiling. He used to be able to tell when you’re lying; you’re hoping the superpower has gone away, and if not, the club lights will cover you.
“Would I ever bullshit you?” You singsong sweetly.
“Yes,” he fires back almost immediately, and you let out a sharp laugh. When you meet his eyes again, the corner of his mouth is slightly quirked. Still got it.
“True, but…” You smile down your lashes at him, and his tongue flickers out softly to wet his bottom lip. “I’m victory lapping.”
“So you just came to rub it in my face.”
“Well…” your palm presses against his thigh. “Not exactly.”
It doesn’t take much; you’re sure the even light suggestion that you out-performed him is enough motivation to get him to follow you toward the abandoned maintenance stairs you entered the club by.
And the way he slams you into that hallway wall behind the DJ booth tells you that he’s furious.
The music is muffled here, but it’s loud enough to mask the sharp gasp that flies out of your mouth, the not-very-sexy cough that comes when August’s hand goes around your throat and presses you into the wall. He bites into your bottom lip with a vengeance, then licks slow and sweet into your mouth.
Terrible boyfriend, unpleasant human being. But an excellent kisser, still.
You go for his belt buckle, yank it toward you, and he lets his body slam into yours, huffing a laugh as you let out a pained grunt. His cock presses against your hip, as thick and hard as you remember, and a shiver climbs up your spine. August bites into your jaw, licks across it.
“Turn around,” he growls, and you oblige, turning until the side of your face is against the wall, his fingers settling along the side of your neck, his thumb cradling your windpipe like a perfect threat.
And then you feel it; his free hand slipping down your spine, between your cheeks, along your left thigh, and the decoy drive is gone. And he’s pressing his fingers into your clit through your panties, working it in a slow circle.
You arch your back into it, grinding against him, throwing his head back to find his mouth again, and he licks across your lips, pushing your panties aside to finger you. You suck in a sharp breath and jolt as he slides in, pressing deep, crooking his fingers, scissoring them in the tight wetness.
“Damn. Been a while, huh?” He sneers, jerking away a nanosecond before your teeth close around his lip. He presses you into the wall even harder, tightens his grip around your throat.
It’s now or never; you reach down your front, and pull the flash drive Benjy gave you out of the pocket sewn in the front right thigh high, and hold it between the pinky and ring finger of your left hand. And you reach down, working your clit, picking up where he left off. Then back with your right, getting your fingers into the buckle of his belt, loosening it—
He traps your right forearm between his arm and his body, and his grip tightens again, cutting off your air. And he stops moving; you clench around his fingers. You want to whimper, but nothing comes out.
“That’s not your job,” he snarls into your ear. Perfect.
“August—” you whine, squirming between him and the wall. You reach back with your left hand, first two fingers scrabbling along the edge of his thigh, then up, hooking them into his belt loop, and you yank him tighter to you, the flash slipping from your fingers and into his pocket—
‘Okay. We’re connected, Salome, well do—‘
August’s fingers whip out of you, and you squirm at the sudden emptiness—
‘—shit there’s two drives—‘ This over-prepared motherfucker! Probably knew you’d try to steal i—
August catches both of your wrists and yanks them back, pressing them hard against his sides.
“Look at me,” August murmurs. Fuck. You know that tone. Mm, if there’s anything you missed about him, it was probably that tone. That ‘I might fuck you or kill you, and you won’t know which until I’m done’ tone.
Your eyes meet his in the gloom, and you shiver as his gaze cuts through you.
‘Gonna need at least 3 minutes to download and burn both, so whatever you’re doing, I hope it’s sustainable.’
Fucking your ex long enough to screw him over, but not so long that he sends you directly into subspace?
“Hands on the wall.”
Sure. Your fuckin’ pleasure.
You press your palms to the wall, slow, then jump when you feel the broad side of August’s palm come down on your ass.
“Fuckin’ brat. Haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He tugs your hips back, and you hear the zipper go, then familiar clink of his belt buckle. Cool. Keep your cool. Stay focused.
You feel him press the head of his dick against your entrance and you clench around nothing, wiggling your hips back without thinking. His laugh echoes in the hall behind you both. Breathe, goddamnit. Just breathe. Fucking brea—
He pushes into you, and a moan rips out of your throat, mingling and harmonizing with his sharp hiss. It’s, fuck, it’s—
“Tighter than I remember,” he works his hips slow, and damn, it takes everything in you to not start crying. So full, almost too full, fuck. “Really has been a while, huh?”
“For you, maybe,” you manage, lying. August chuckles breathlessly, kicking your legs further apart.
“Tough talk coming from a brat with shaky knees.”
’35%’ Breathe. Just breathe. You can handle this. You’ve done it before.
You don’t really start to worry until he hitches one arm around your waist, and the other hand comes to settle around your neck. The first stroke is astounding; your eyelids droop as you let out a shivery whimper. You feel August smirk against your throat as he fucks into you, long and deep and slow.
“Did you miss me? Hm? Did your pretty pussy miss my cock?” You’re nodding emphatically before you can stop yourself, your voice catching in the back of your throat.
“Yes,” you whisper; the shame burns white hot, crystallizing into lust. You feel yourself going, the silky soft void pulling you into it—
’51%’
Come back—
“Tilt your head back,” his grip tightens, his hand moves down and fuck, he’s on your clit, rolling it in his fingers. “Wanna see your eyes…”
Don’t—
“Fuck,” August hisses; his slick fingers press harder into your clit and you cock your hips further back. “You’re all fucked out already.” He’s hazy in your gaze; you’re drifting, your focus stripped down to where he’s pounding in and out of you, where his fingers are making you burn from the inside out.
‘84%’
You shut your eyes; you’re going to come. You’re fucking going to come. You can’t stop it.
’89%’ You feel something brush against your lips and turn your head, sharp.
“Fucking brat to the end, huh?” God, you’re—
‘Nearly there—’
Almost, almost, almost almostalmost—
You shatter.
Gone.
August keeps going, hissing in your ear; his mouth meets yours, and the ringing in your ears dims, fuck, how can he keep going, how can he keep going when it feels so fucking good it hurts—
You’re still coming down when he pulls out of you and whips you around, then lifts you. You don’t know how you get your right leg hooked over his shoulder, don’t know why when he presses into your still-spasming pussy, you look into his eyes and gently kiss his breathless mouth.
Maybe he can hear Benjy in your ear faintly yelling ‘Complete, it’s done, grab the mirror drive and get out of there, can you hear me Salome…’
Maybe he knows he broke you, thinks he can find some way to outsmart you in your hazy state.
Maybe this was his plan all along.
But he doesn’t speak while he fucks you now. Barely kisses a sound into your mouth when he comes.
You don’t remember how you get back to the van. Barely remember how you slipped the mirror drive out of his pocket before he redressed, and after a smug kiss to your forehead, left you in the hallway.
Benjy’s wide eyed gaze takes you in as you slam the back door closed behind you. He mercifully turns toward the wheel and swats a packet of wet wipes toward you before he takes off from the curb with a tad more than necessary force.
“I was going to ask, but…”
“Follow that instinct,” you shoot back. You toss the used wipes into a small garbage bag and change into a pair of sweats.
“Anyone tailing us?” Your phone buzzes. A smirk spreads across your lips before you even pull it out of your pocket.
WALKER
You’re gonna pay for that.
“Not tonight,” you reply, tucking your phone back in your pocket.
Exes are exes for a reason.
But fuck. You might be willing to relearn that lesson.