When Caleb had told me had a safe place for me to stay hidden, this wasn't exactly what I had expected.
It was a fucking luxury apartment. Kingsized bed, marbled bathroom, jacuzzi. I could go on and on, but you get it. Basically, it was way above his paygrade. Caleb couldn't afford this, but then again, maybe he could. I had no idea who he was anymore, he could be a secret billionaire for all I knew.
I also had no idea who this 'A.T.S' was, who seemed to be the owner of this apartment, if we went by the initials on the door. I had to just assume it was one of Caleb's aliases. That, or the poor person who really owned this place would get some surprise upon his or her return.
I, however, couldn't be bothered with that at the moment. I was a fugitive, I was also aiding and 'a-bedding' (please do get the pun) a criminal, whom, as far as I also knew, was still captured within the walls of the very government that was searching for me as well. I had put good faith into Caleb to take care of that problem now that I knew how smart he really was(if I didn't before); If he could get me out, he could get Vince out as well. And Vince was more than capable of taking care of himself. He had proven on several occasions he could get both in and out of the CIA. No need for my assist.
So, I had taken the opportunity to lay back in that jacuzzi and had poured myself a glass of red. Glancing at Bob who in his fishbowl sat safely in the middle of the giant living room, where, would you believe it, the jacuzzi also was, I finally felt some peace. This place was a bachelor pad, but it certainly worked for a single lady as well. But seriously, who actually had a jacuzzi in the middle of the living room?
"Who cares," I drawled to Bob who was swimming around in circles in his fishbowl, happy as ever. "As long as the wine contains alcohol and the jacuzzi has bubbles, who really cares? Cheers."
I sighed and leaned back, sipping my wine. Normally I was a Jack Daniels girl, but today... well, red just suited me better.
For days I had been trying to swallow all the knowledge both Vince and Caleb had fed me. Trying to absorb it. I was finding it difficult, though. Not so much that I couldn't believe it anymore, that I had long surpassed. It was more that... it just seemed so surreal. When you put it into perspective, it just sounded so ludicrous.
A pack of governmental people and mad scientists were experimenting on a bunch of geniuses. Just think about it. In my head it sounded something like 'Frankenstein' meeting 'Good Will Hunting'. Or maybe 'Kyle XY'.
A rustling by the door snapped me out of my thoughts and had me sitting upright in the jacuzzi. Reaching for the gun I had lying next to me, I grabbed it and armed it. What was the chances of a robbery occurring at the place a fugitive was hiding?
But then to my surprise I heard the sound of a lock turning with ease, meaning the person had a key. I heard footsteps coming down the hall, closing in. "Caleb, is that you?"
Of course it wasn't him. But of course it had to be him.
Looking exhausted and worn down, Vince stepped out of his shoes and threw his jacket on the floor. He gave my gun a bored glance before continuing to undress, taking off his shirt with a painful groan. He revealed a battered blue and black body, but a gorgeous one nonetheless.
"What the actual hell are you doing here?" I asked, deciding I could put down the gun again. I instead fell back into the jacuzzi, aware that I was naked. Not that it bothered me, he had seen it all before, there was just no point in him seeing it again.
"Same thing you are," He replied, now unbuckling his dirty pants. "Making myself comfortable."
"Are you kidding me?" I snapped as he walked up to me, discarding his briefs, completely naked now. "What the—get the hell away, you're not coming in here with me!"
"Go ahead and stop me," Vince tiredly said and lowered himself into the huge jacuzzi, sitting down across from me. He groaned blissfully as the warm, soothing water met his bruised body. "But if you do so, do it quickly. I'm not in any mood."
I watched him for a moment as he simply let himself sit back, closing his eyes. There was none of his usual cheeky smirks or attitude. He was really hurt bad, or at least so exhausted he couldn't even muster to be cocky.
I pursed my lips a little. "Do you need anything?"
"Sleep."
"Anything I can give you?"
He was quiet for a moment, but then tiredly sighed. "Two aspirins wouldn't be the worst..."
Not even a dirty comment about what I could 'give' him. Code crap, the man was hurting for real.
I arose from the jacuzzi, noticing how his tired eyes didn't even open to gaze at my naked body, but just stayed closed. That said another thing about how exhausted he was.
I wrapped a towel around my body, then went to the medicine cabinet located in the kitchen and found a couple of aspirins, then poured a glass of water and walked back to him. Dropping the towel, I sat down in the jacuzzi again and handed him the water and painkillers. "Here."
He opened his eyes and then took the pills with slow movements before swallowing them with the water. He nodded as a thanks, but then let his head fall back to rest against the edge of the jacuzzi again.
I sat for a moment and looked at him. His black hair was dirty and greasy, and his face was distorted and swollen from getting beaten. Nevertheless, as I watched his closed eyelids with those dark lashes resting against his cheekbones, he still looked handsome. Beat in every sense of the word, but handsome.
"You're staring at me," He tiredly commented, eyes still closed.
"Well, you look like shit," I commented back, tilting my head a little. "Really pathetic, actually."
His lips twitched a little, just the tiniest bit. "I make pathetic and shit look good, then."
There he was.
I turned and reached behind me to grab a washcloth from the floor. I dipped it in the water, wrung most of the water out, then scooted closer to him. I brought the cloth to the side of his face and then carefully swept away some of the dried blood and dirt, revealing his beautiful tan skin beneath. His eyes fluttered open and looked at me in puzzlement. I ignored him and just focused on getting him clean.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting even."
"How?"
I pressed my lips into one flat line and then dipped the cloth again before continuing. Blood colored the bathing water a reddish tint. "You and your people took care of me back when you... saved me from the Russians. I guess the least I can do is return the favor."
His lips twitched again, but then he closed his eyes and exhaled exhaustedly. "Grazie."
"This doesn't make us friends, though," I said. "Nor anything more. We are just temporarily on the same side."
He hummed a little. "I was never on your bad side, dolcezza."
"You wish."
His hand suddenly stopped mine and he opened his eyes again. He looked at me, and then with a little wince, he sat up and leaned towards me, pushing the cloth from my hand. I looked back up at him, my breath faltering as he leaned in towards me and cupped my face.
"I don't wish," He whispered, inches from my face. "I believe."
And then he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. Nothing was rushed, it was just a gentle, absolutely deliciously soft kiss that lingered on my lips, even as he pulled back and went back to being exhausted.
I stayed there for another few seconds, shellshocked. I couldn't remember the last time someone kissed me so... delicately. To my surprise, I found that I had really missed it.
I cursed silently in my head and then picked up the cloth again, continuing my previous job of carefully scrubbing him down until he was clean. Vince fell in and out of consciousness, sleeping and wakening whenever I hit a sore spot, but mostly he just slept, which I was thankful for.
Because that goddamn kiss had awakened a side of me that I did not want to get in contact with again.
~~~
"So..." Vince said as he came out of the bedroom we had been sharing the last few days. Well, sort of. I had taken the couch despite his many protests. I had pointed out that because of his condition, he should sleep on the softest furniture. He had then pointed out that the bed was big enough to fit the both of us.
But the thing was, he was just getting too damn close to me. I couldn't sleep next to him, I couldn't allow it. I had to mentally and physically create some distance between us, otherwise I wouldn't be able to function, to do what was our job.
Vince walked up next to me and stopped to look at me. "Is this how it's going to be in the future, you waking up to cook us breakfast while I wake up the kids?"
Wooooow, I thought, stopping in the middle of the task of seasoning my omelet. Did he just go there? The fuck he did. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."
"You're right. No point in waking up the kids before we've eaten breakfast and I've eaten you."
I plated my cooked omelet onto a dish and then turned to him, being met by the sight of his bruised persona in only a pair of revealing briefs. The man didn't know the concept of modesty. "I seem to recall us striking a deal of professionalism. Where did that go?"
"Away when you started nurturing me back to health," Vince stated, taking in my body. I, on the other hand, was dressed in a pair of tight pants and my usual black camisole. I had let my hair hang loose today, though, just because I knew we were settled for another day of relaxation and recuperating. The bullet wound in my arm still hurt every time I flexed my muscles.
"So I should start beating you up so you'll stop creating silly fantasies about playing house with the kids," I suggested.
"Don't forget about Bob."
"What is it with you and my goddamn fish?" I growled, now turning around to snatch a glass from one of the cabinets. "Do you have like a fish-fetish?"
"I have a you-fetish."
"That apparently involves kids."
"Only because I can picture what a great baby mama you'll be."
I snorted loudly. "Sure, daddy. Since you can predict the future, mind telling me if Trump is going to win, just so I know when to flee?" When I didn't get a reply, I turned around, only to be met by Vince who had moved silently and now stood straight up against me. Gasping, I nearly dropped my glass of water and looked up at his six foot four frame. "What the hell, Vince?"
He leaned down to me, smirking mischievously. "Did you just call me... daddy?"
Damn my mouth. Why hadn't I learned better by now? "I was joking, you idiot."
"I wasn't. You could be my milf," Vince slowly placed his hands on my hips, his eyes trailing over my body. "And I could be your—"
"Don't finish that sentence," I said, clapping a hand over his mouth. "You've got some serious Florence Nightingale syndrome going on up in that thick head of yours that I think you need to spend some time on."
"I heard 'thick' and I heard 'head' and I heard 'spend some time on'," Vince replied, removing my hand and now taking the final step between us, pressing his sizable erection against my apex. An instant warmth spread throughout my body. "I say we focus on those words."
"Why do men only hear what they want to hear?"
"Sure, I'll have a beer."
I rolled my eyes when a little smirk spread on his annoyingly tempting lips. When he leaned down to me, I pressed my hand against his chest and pushed him back. It was like pushing a building. "Does everything come back to sex with you?"
"Not sex," He replied. "It all comes back to you, Rya. I don't think I've ever met a woman like you before. And I don't ever want to again."
"Is that an insult or a compliment?"
"Both."
We stared at each other for a moment and I was acutely aware of Vince's hands caressing my body. They were soft, yet had the promise of what they wanted to do seared into their fingertips. Only, I knew with everything going on, we didn't have time for pleasantries. "Let go of me, Vince."
But of course this was Vince. He did the exact opposite of what I asked of him; He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, pulling me closer. I sucked in a gasp and placed my hands on his scarred chest, but I didn't push as I should have. Instead I just stood there while his lips devoured mine. His hand ran through my hair and harshly gripped it – he practically dominated my head and lips with his own to submit to what he—what we both wanted.
My damn pride just didn't want to admit that.
"Kiss me back, dolcezza," Vince breathed against my lips before he kissed me again. His other hand was pushing my front against his pelvis where I could feel his hard length rub me. It made me shudder involuntarily, the memory of him pounding into me flashing through me.
"Vince," It was meant to be a protest, but instead it came out as a breathless moan. And Vince, the ever opportunist bastard, used my moment of speaking to plunge his tongue into my mouth, tangling it with my own. I couldn't help but groan and cling onto him as he savaged me.
But I loved it. Loved how he was so damn demanding and didn't take no for an answer. Well... at least not the kind of no he knew didn't really mean no.
He knows you're too damn proud to submit, so he makes it easier for you; He doesn't give you a choice.
"Damn it," I whispered and gripped on to his neck, dragging him down and now kissing him back with fervor. I didn't like how sexually charged and how electrifying he was. I felt like a dead car and he was a jumpstart; He sparked me and made me roar alive.
And fuck it, I wanted to ride.
As if reading my mind, Vince picked me up and put me on the counter, keeping his hands on my buttocks. He slipped them into my pants, felt, squeezed and rubbed me. It made me arch into him, made my core throb like a heartbeat. I could feel fire inside the pit of my stomach, churning and spreading throughout my body. My breath was leaving my lungs rapidly, turning me into a panting mess.
"Vince."
He knew that meant no more teasing. His lips traveled away from my lips with a last peck and then on to the vein in my throat, sucking it until it throbbed twice as hard. My head leaned back as more pants left my heaving chest, the one he was edging towards with each languid lick and kiss he scorched my skin with.
His hands slipped out of my pants and sought out the front instead, unbuttoning them. Before I knew it, he had his hand thrust into them again, only now cupping my heat instead. I moaned and bit my lip as he begun rubbing me, bending his middle finger to tease my clit on top of my thong. I jerked at the sensation. "Oh Jesus, Vince."
"OH JESUS, GUYS!" We suddenly heard a voice screech. "¨JESUS CHRIST, RABBIT ALERT!"
I pulled away in utter shock, pulling Vince's hand out of my pants at the same time. He hardly moved as I tried pushing him off, turning my head to see who the intruder was. "Zac—I mean, Caleb!" I screeched, finding him standing by the door, pulling his hood up and tightening the strings so much the hoodie closed around his face.
"No, no, no," He groaned from inside his hoodie-hideout. "Where is Jesus?! That's who we should be screaming for!"
"Cockblock," Vince breathed, though his lips were twitching in a grin. Was he talking about Caleb or Jesus?
I pushed Vince away again when he refused to let go. He just chuckled and took a step back, allowing me to jump off the counter and zip up my pants. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell us you were coming today?"
"Why didn't you tell me the same?!" Caleb exclaimed. "Seriously, I need to start listening to smurf more often. She told me this was going to happen if I started working with you guys together."
I had no idea who 'smurf' was, maybe his imaginary friend. In any case, this situation wasn't good. I had to go with a cliché; "Caleb, it's really not what it looks like, I promise you."
His hoodie-covered head gave me a Deadpool-deadpan look. "I'm 23, Rya, not stupid. Actually, I'm a genius. I know my 1+1, thank you very much. Hi Vince, how are you doing, by the way?"
Vince chuckled and looked down at my scowling face. "I'm enjoying America."
"You don't say."
Okay, I was ending this conversation. "Caleb. Purpose. Being here?"
"Well I didn't come here to watch porn, that's for sure," He said as he unfolded himself from his hoodie now. "I actually came here to discuss business with you, but if you're otherwise engaged..."
"We are not," I assured him, just as Vince opened his mouth, probably to say the opposite as always. "We were just—"
"Passing time?" Caleb suggested with a smug grin, running a quick hand through his hair to fix it. "It's cool, I do the same with my girl whenever we're waiting for a program to crack under from our hacking. It's so tedious, so we just—"
"Okay, no more details," I said, holding up a finger. "Just... talk to us about the plan. Can we all be professionals, please? Vince?"
He chuckled silently, but then sighed. "Sure. Professionals."
"Have you guys slept together before?" Caleb suddenly asked, looking at Vince.
"That's our business, kiddo," Vince replied with a light amusement to his voice while all I could do was roll my eyes. "Present us yours."
"Alright, fair enough," Caleb replied, shrugging. He then pulled a laptop out of the shoulder bag he had brought with him, a beautiful silver thing. "I think I found a way to transport you to Pizza-country."
"Italia," Vince automatically corrected in a flat voice, obviously getting tired of all the spaghetti/pizza comparisons that was used to describe his beloved country. "How?"
"Well..." Caleb put his laptop down on the counter and opened it. "Ever heard of a guy named 'A'?"
• • •
Not Pretty Little Liars, guys.