Hidden Lives

Gomez thrust roughly into Blakely, slapping her twice and mauling her breasts as he raped her savagely. He lasted only a couple of dozen thrust, cumming inside her tightness and moving to her arm, allowing Samson to move between her thighs.

"You're going to like this, bitch," he hissed in her ear. "Samson's got the big package."

Blakely was horrified. Samson had a cock that would have given horses penis envy. This was going to hurt a lot. Thankful for the small pleasure of having at least Gomez's cum in her for lubrication she braced herself, still waiting for her opportunity. The huge purple head of that monster cock split her little pussy and she nearly screamed in pain, the tendons of her neck tight with the agony. There was the roar of a shotgun blast from the doorway and the man masturbating was nearly torn in half.

Gomez, startled and shocked momentarily lost his presence of mind and Blakely moved quickly and decisively, freeing her right arm momentarily. Her hand shot to the leather string behind her neck and she had her knife. She swiped at Samson's cock, nearly severing it, and buried the blade in Melendez's neck before making a swipe at Gomez's arm. Blood spurted, covering her, and she shielded her eyes. She rolled, burying her knife three times in Gomez's belly and she was standing, looking down at three dying men as Brand was running across the room toward her. He caught her up in his arms, squeezing her fiercely and crying.

"I came as quick as I could, baby," he wept. "I'm so sorry I didn't move quicker. I wasn't ready. Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride," she kissed him. "The blood isn't mine. You did good, lover. I was kind of counting on you. You were a little late, but you did good."

"You knew I was here?" Brand was nearly speechless.

"I keep track of the man I love," she told him. "I knew you were following me and I kept my purse so you could hear what was going on. They had Amanda, Brand. I don't know how that happened, but heads are going to roll. I think she's passed out. We've got to get her out of here."

Brand walked over and looked down at Gomez. "Oh my God, Blakely, that's him!"

"Who, Brand?" she asked.

"It's the guy! That's the drug lord that gave Lilly the overdose! It's him, Blakely! You got him!"

"I'm glad, Brand, but that's not why I was after him. We've got to get Amanda out of here. We'll talk about this later."

Brand hurried to the small form, tore the tape off her and carried her out to Blakely's vehicle. They put her in the back seat and Blakely drove home, Brand following closely. They cleaned her up and put her in bed. Blakely stripped off her ruined clothes and stood in the shower. She scrubbed herself, washing away the filth, douching several times and then it hit her. She sat naked on the floor of the shower, holding her knees to her chest and wept. That's where Brand found her fifteen minutes later. He picked her wet body up, cradling her in his arms and sat her in a chair. He dried her off and combed out her long, beautiful hair, murmuring soft words of endearment and love in her ear. He carried her to bed and tucked her in, promising to be right back before he quickly showered himself and crawled in bed with her. He held her tightly and she was shivering. He stroked her and told her how much he loved her a hundred times. She gradually began to relax and finally she slept, warm and safe in his arms.

She was up in the morning when he woke up and she had Amanda sitting at the bar, eating pancakes when he came downstairs. She moved quickly to embrace him, kissing him fiercely before returning to the cooktop. She made him pancakes and he marveled at her resilience. Blakely didn't feel at all resilient, but she felt better and she knew she was going to be okay. Brand didn't seem terribly shaken by the events of the previous day, and she knew they were going to have to have a long talk. Everything was different now, and they would have to adjust. Her cousin David came and picked Amanda up, promising he would call his father for an explanation. When he was gone, Blakely poured two big mugs of coffee and pulled Brand to the sofa. She snuggled up into his side and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Blakely, what are you?" he asked. "Are you some kind of spy or government agent?"

She laughed. "I don't know exactly what I am. I'll tell you everything, Brand."

She took a sip of her coffee, drew in a long breath and began:

*****

Time isn't really anyone's friend. Sometimes you do have to be patient. I'm not a very patient person. When I was fifteen I was skinny, hardly had any boobs, wore glasses, braces and my ass was as flat as a pancake. That seemed odd to me, because Mom was hot. She was all curvy and sexy and men constantly hit on her. She told me I was likely just a late bloomer, and if I was patient I'd be stunning someday. It wasn't any fun waiting. I was smart, third in my class, and popular enough because Dad was the football coach, but I wanted to be hot, too. I had very long blonde hair and my face was like Mom's, but the body didn't match. I talked to Dad about it and he designed a workout plan for me that focused on my legs and butt. It took me four years but by the time I got out of high school I was a hard body with a butt had people drooling. My boobs grew, too. I wasn't ever going to be porn star big, but I had a healthy, small C cup going on.

I was interested in a relationship, but not sport fucking. Just watching the sluts in high school gave me the impression that the kind of guy I wanted might fuck one of them if the circumstances were right, but they weren't going home to meet Mama. When I started college, I quickly learned that there were situations I didn't want to be in. Several of the girls in my dorm were sleeping with every guy that asked, and several were gang raped because they passed out from drugs or booze at parties. I'd been drunk twice in my life. Both times were at home in my parents' house, and although it started off feeling pretty nice, it quickly went downhill, ending up with me embracing my porcelain lover and feeling awful the next day. That cured me. I drank wine with meals or to relax a little, beer after being really hot or at picnics and occasionally something good like sipping whisky, brandy or cognac, but I didn't get drunk. I smoked a little weed and I liked it better than the alcohol, but it was illegal in my state and I didn't want a record.

To stay away from the gang rape stuff, I avoided the Greeks and the jocks and started taking judo lessons. That graduated into jujitsu and Muay thai. I was kind of a badass by my second year, and I changed my major to criminal justice. I had absolutely no interest in law enforcement. The idea of arresting people is repulsive to me, and using violence against someone that wasn't violent toward me just outraged my sense of morals. I was interested in private security or investigation.

My father and brother were hunters, and Dad was an ex-military guy before he retired early and started coaching football. They taught me how to shoot a gun and a bow. I wasn't interested in hunting, but I went to the gun range with them every time they went. I had a little .380 for my purse or a thigh holster if I was wearing a dress and a .45 ACP if I wanted a bigger pop. When I graduated from college, I entered a strategic security school and in 18 months I got a job working security for a major corporation. After three years, I got a call from my uncle John. He was a major player in DC and he was an attorney. He wanted me to meet with a guy to talk about a job. When I got there, I met Benjamin Abrams for the first time. He was a huge black man, about six-feet-six and he must have weighed over 300 pounds. He said he worked for the government and he was looking for a female operative. I told him I wasn't interested in working for the government.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I think it's immoral," I told him. "I don't work for protection rackets or organized crime."

He laughed and his whole frame shook. "Okay, I don't work for the government. I'm working for a group of very powerful men. Some of them are in government, some in finance and some in business. We have jobs that need to get done that we can't give to intelligence. Some of them are messy. We'll allow you to pick your teams, pick your jobs and you'll be well compensated. We'll get you a law degree. You only have to do three jobs a year. Do you think you'd be interested?"

"Will I be asked to kill people?" I asked.

"Yes, but they deserve to die," he said.

"I'll be the judge of that," I said. "I get to turn the jobs down if I don't agree that they need to be done?"

"Absolutely," he said.

I could tell he was lying. "No thanks," I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"You're lying," I told him. "I won't get to turn them down or you'll mislead me."

"I told you she was good," Uncle John said. "You can turn the jobs down, baby, if that's what it takes to get you. If you don't want them, we'll give them to another team."

"You really think I'm good and you want me that bad," I commented.

"Yes, and yes," Benjamin said. "We don't want you until you get your law degree. You start at Dartmouth next week."

That was it. I went to work on that degree and they pushed me hard. They also greased the rails and I was on a fast track to what looked like everything I had ever wanted. I had nearly zero social life, but I had something else. I had powerful connections and something even more interesting. I had the chance to make a difference. They put me through schools that were intense physical experiences, too. By the time I passed the bar, I was a lean mean machine. Six months after I passed the bar, Uncle John had me positioned in a small but prestigious law firm that specialized in criminal defense. Somehow, I was never quite sure how it happened, I started as a junior partner. I worked my ass off, and gradually overcame the resentment that some of the attorneys felt about me. I was good at my job and with the resources I had available in investigation, I got a lot of cases with favorable outcomes. I seldom heard from Uncle John or Benjamin for a year. I was getting settled in with the firm, and one day I was called into the office of one of the senior partners. He told me I was on leave for three weeks, he gave me a package and sent me home.

There was a file, several reports, a threat assessment and a mission in that package. There was an army officer that someone wanted retired. He had enough connections and enough of a reputation that he couldn't be forced out. His staff was fanatically loyal. The problem was that he was causing trouble for his superiors. He had a habit of getting people killed. The people that were dying were young, married white men. General Brooks had some kind of deal worked out with some African Businessmen that was one of the most horrible things I ever heard about. The widows of those young white soldiers were disappearing and turning up drug addicted and on the arm of those African businessmen. The intel said he was running a white-slaver ring. He would drug his victims, get them educated in rape sessions, addict them to drugs and sell them all over the continent. It was quite the lucrative business. He needed to go away without a scandal.

I didn't give a damn about the scandal. If the army got a black eye, that was no skin off my nose. I viewed them as the enforcement arm of a corrupt government, anyway. I did hate the bastard and I was happy to take him down. I got to pick my team, just as I had been promised and we arranged a very nasty end for General Brooks. He wound up as a pony boy in a South American S&M club with no tongue and no way out. I was rewarded handsomely and went home.

I did fourteen jobs and killed at least nine people until I met you, Brand. I say at least because I shot at a lot more people than that. I didn't have time to find out whether or not I hit them or if they were dead. Since I met you I've done three jobs and one of them was fatal. Now you know. I'm a mercenary problem solver. I'm ready to put that behind me or have you join me. Either way, I want us to be together. We can have those babies now. The question is, do you still want me to be your wife? Do you still love me and can you still live with me? I love you and I'll do whatever you want me to. I'll become a full time attorney, we can work together doing a few of these jobs a year, I'll quit both and become a full time wife and mother, or you can leave me. I'll never leave you. I just need some kind of commitment here. What's it going to be, Brand?

*****

Brand shook his head. It was like waking up from a trance. "I guess that's the short version, huh, baby?

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is. It's hard to distill a lifetime down into just the bare bones. I'll tell you any details you want to know, Brand. I just wanted you to know. This is what I could never tell you. I wanted to, but it wasn't safe. I would never have told you but it was beginning to affect us. I can never allow that to happen. I decided to let you find out. That's why I let you track me. I was afraid you thought I was having affairs or that I belonged to a secret cult or something. It was scaring the hell out of me. I don't want to lose you. I knew I had to do something. It was making you unhappy with me and I couldn't allow that to happen."

"You didn't really need me to rescue you, did you?" he asked.

"I think I could have got out," she said. "It was going to be dicey. I'd have been messed up a lot worse. You kept me from being raped any more than I already was, Brand. Thank you. It was bad enough," she cried a little and he pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly.

She raised her face to him and he kissed her gently. "I think you're the bravest, scariest, sexiest woman on the planet," he told her. "You're mine, Blakely. I don't like you being in dangerous situations. God, baby, you killed five men in there. I don't know how I feel about that. I understand how you've been in these 'kill or be killed' situations. Some of them just seen like you're a stone cold killer. How can you do that?"

"Yes, and you helped me," she said. "You killed a man in there on your own. I didn't know if you could do that."

"They were hurting you," his eyes were moist. "I couldn't let that happen."

"What about Gomez? If you could have gotten a shot at him, would you have taken it? If you had him in a scope, would you have pulled the trigger?"

"In a heartbeat. Some people just need to die," he said.

"That's the only kind of people I ever take a job on," she said. "I hunt the Gomezes of the world. What would you do to protect me?"

"I would blow up the world to keep you safe, Blakely. What do you want to do?"

"First I want you to take me to bed and make love to me," she said. "I'm yours, Brand. That's what you said and those bastards tried to take me away from you. I want you to take me back. Will you do that?"

"There's going to be no doubt," he promised. "That's my pussy and you're my woman."

He stood up and carried her to their bed. She had on just a baggy sweatshirt and he had it off her in a matter of seconds. He was all over her and she responded the way she always had. There was something about this man that made her insatiable. She felt heat all over her body, radiating into him and he claimed her, his cock sinking into her, thrilling every fiber of her being as the familiar feelings swept over her. He was her man and there was no feeling in the universe like his big, firm cock sinking into her little pussy. It was driving her wild and she felt the contractions pulse through her body, the pleasure almost painful in its intensity as she convulsed beneath him. She felt him pulse inside her and she was filled with liquid warmth as she continued to spasm. She heard screaming and realized distantly that it was her voice.

As she came back to earth she realized her throat was raw and that she must have been screaming for some time. She also remembered a small gush of fluid as she came, her Skene's glands emptying in a rush. The sheets and her thighs were soaked and she couldn't ever remember doing that before.

She finally caught her breath enough to speak. "Jesus, Brand, that was intense. What did you do to me?"

"I made love to my wife," he said. "God, Blakely, I've never seen you come like that before. I'm going to have to rescue you more often! Have I told you how much I love you today?"

She pulled him down, rolling them over so that she was on top. "No," she said, "but I want to hear it. Then I want you to tell me what we're going to do for the rest of our lives."

"I love you so much I'd die for you," he said. "First, we're going to make babies. Then, between making babies, we're going to carefully go over the list of people that are connected with this job you just did. We're going to punish everyone involved. Then we'll take one job per year if we can find one we think needs doing. The rest of the time, we're going to be ordinary people. Well, you were never ordinary, but as ordinary as we can be when one of us burns as hot as you do. You'll practice law, I'll program computers, we'll go out dancing and come home and spoil our kids rotten. How does that sound?"

"I don't know how I got so lucky," she kissed him. "Love me now, Brand."

As she slid down to take him in her mouth, he smiled. She really had no idea what she was. That was the thing about her he loved the most. It was going to be a hell of a ride. All he could do was hang on for dear life.