Chapter One
Anastasia Stavistovksy needed a shot of cold vodka and a good fuck. First, however, there was business to be attended to. Her business was that of her boyfriend, Boris Sanko. They were arms dealers, and were meeting a contact tonight. Ana, being new to this particular consortium, had responsibilities no more grave at the moment than eye candy. If everything went according to plan this evening, that was about to change.
Ana recalled her first meeting with the Cuban borne Russian woman, Anna Espinosa. She was instantly attracted by her deep silky voice and her sensual movements. Anna's quality was so different from the terse, practiced sex appeal of most of the women in the spy trade, that she couldn't help but to find herself aroused.
It wasn't easy convincing Anna to acquire the device for her. She was hoping that she could proceed without having to namedrop, but Boris Sanko was one of the few people for whom a thief could go out on a limb and be confident that it would be worth their while to do so.
"Alright sweet-heart, you have one week to find a buyer for my product," Anna Espinosa said, as she languidly drew from a cigarette. "You will contact me when you find a buyer or not at all. The arrangements will then take three days. Do you have any questions?"
"Just - Just one..." stuttered Ana nervously.
"Yes?" The word spilled off Espinosa's tongue like smooth coffee beans out of a waxy bag.
"Will I be making the trade directly with you or with an associate?" Ana spat out quickly.
The other woman smiled knowingly. "I look forward to our next meeting very much." With a soft, slow kiss on the cheek and in a puff of smoke, Anna Espinosa was gone.
When Anastasia reported back that she acquired the chemical weapon, Boris was furious that she had gone behind his back to run a job of her own. He smacked her across the face, in that place that all men seem to know how to backhand women. It felt to her as though shards of her cheekbone had impaled her brain. She fell to the floor with a cry.
"That rat bastard!" she murmured to herself as he stormed from the room.
She grabbed her bed post and heaved herself off the ground, her body shaking, trying to cry, but without tears coming out. She heard Boris' quick heavy footsteps muted on the thick carpeting in the hallway outside of their room. The door opened noiselessly.
"I will arrange for a buyer. We will do this my way. No one but your contact will know you made the arrangements. If this goes well, you will be promoted to my second in command. If it fails, I will kill you."
The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he slammed the door and strode off down the hall. She knew he was proud of her. Her chest puffed out, and her chin turned up, just a little bit.
*** *** ***
Boris Sanko needed another shot of Tequila and a good fuck. As he turned the corner of the balcony of the crowded nightclub, Ana on his arm, drunk and giggling per usual, he spotted that pretty-boy Sark with his newest conquest. They were whispering together on a couch, Sark luxuriously splayed across the cushions, the woman, Reed if he wasn't mistaken, perched on the arm rest. Her legs were crossed with her right ankle just grazing his right knee. They were the most beautiful couple in the room, and it was impossible not to notice all of the eyes staring at them from the dance floor.
"There is no way they're getting out of here without putting on a show for us," he growled into Ana's ear, nipping it roughly as he spoke. "Mr. Sark!"
"Sanko, it's good to see you," replied Julian, as he shook the larger man's hand.
"And you must be Lauren Reed," he answered, acknowledging Sydney. She inclined her head shortly in response. "What a pleasure to meet you after so long," he slurred slightly as he took her hand, kissing it.
Be smooth Boris. Appearing drunk and adoring will get you no where with this one.
"The pleasure is all mine, obviously," the blonde returned brusquely.
Sanko handed the group shots with a robust, "Let us toast. To CRF, hmm? Salud!" taking half of his shot. He threw Ana down on their couch, poured the other half between her breasts, and lapped it up, shaking his head like an Airedale in a water bowl.
The talk turned to business, boring Boris incredibly, until something that Lauren said grabbed his attention.
"The one you hired Anna Espinosa to steal."
Boris was shocked. He was unaware that Ana had used such a prestigious and highly sought after man for her job. He was impressed.
I may have to keep her yet.
"Obviously you've never heard of her," Sydney smiled at him. "Sorry to waste your time," she said, rising to leave.
"You want something from me? I want something from you my dear," Sanko snarled. Sark sat forward in his seat, glaring at Sanko, knowing what to expect.
"And what is that?" Sydney returned, entirely nonplussed.
Smiling toothily Boris replied "Mr. Sark has told me about your, predilections. I have a room above this club. I'd like to watch that - for myself."
Boris noticed Sark lean back in his chair apprehensively, watching his woman to see what she would say.
Again, startlingly calm, Sydney picked up a shot of tequila and a lime. While shoving the lime into Sark's mouth without ever looking at him, she answered Sanko. "I'm sure Julian has told you, we never mix business with pleasure."
The hot drink slipped down the woman's throat, but she gave no indication that it fazed her as she attacked her perceived lover's mouth. She kissed him long and hard, sucking on the lime while their tongues swirled around the cool tart skin.
Sanko watched in rapt excitement, picturing all of the things he was confident he would be viewing later tonight. He noticed that Ana was grasping his inner thigh tightly, rubbing it with her thumb.
"Don't worry baby, you can watch too," he cooed to her, inaudible to the couple entangled in each other on the opposite couch.
Sark grabbed Sydney's ankle and pulled her knee down so it was between his legs. She grabbed the sides of his face, running her fingers through his hair. His hands clawed at her skin as he roughly shoved his arms up the back of her shirt, pulling her body closer to his as she hovered over him.
"Ow!" he cried, as she pulled away, lime, triumphantly in mouth. He reached for a napkin to dab at the blood that she drew from his bottom lip.
"I told you she was special," Sark muttered rather angrily.
"Oh yes. She is indeed special," Sanko answered, plans forming and dissolving in his mind at a rate too quick to process just yet.
"I want one!" bubbled Ana, clumsily stepping over the small table, blundering her equally bubbly rear end onto Sark's one vacant knee. A steely switch-blade knife glare from the blonde woman on the opposite knee stopped Ana in her tracks for just a moment. She laughed heartily, grabbed a lime, and gracelessly positioned it between Sydney's half parted lips, still full and a bit bruised from her previous tart encounter.
"You were worried there girly, that she wanted your boy? Ha!" Sanko laughed boorishly.
Ana swept Sydney's blonde locks off of her shoulder, took a shot of tequila, cringed, and swooped up aggressively towards the other woman's mouth. Syd was nearly knocked over from her precarious perch on her nemesis' knee, but Sark steadied her with a hand at her back. She grabbed his forearm and held it tight, while she tentatively placed her other hand behind the girl's tricep. Ana deepened the kiss, expertly pulling the lime to the side while deftly thrusting her tongue into the corners of Sydney's mouth.
Ana pulled away tenderly and smiled at Sydney, who offered up her own kind, if slightly uncomfortable smile in return.
"Mr. Sark, I consider myself to be a very lucky man," boomed Sanko, "but I have never met a man as lucky as you have been tonight. To that, my friend, to that I will drink!" Sanko picked another lime up off of the tray and looked down his nose devilishly at the blonde woman sitting across from him.
"I'm sure Julian would be more than happy to hold your lime for you Mr. Sanko," calmy speaking while clutching at Sark's knee, as though asking him for help.
Sanko offered the lime to Julian, who bowed graciously in accepting it.
"As flattered as I am Mr. Sanko, I'm afraid that I must toast my own incredible luck as well."
Sanko grabbed another lime, shoved it unceremoniously into Ana's mouth, took a shot, and proceeded to plunder his score. The couple opposite watched them until they finished, and the other pair came up for air, turning to them expectantly.
Sark turned to the woman, now seated on the soft black leather couch next to him, dressed herself in soft black leather. He looked, almost frightened, at the lime in his hand. He lifted his eyes and gazed timidly into Sydney's wide, falsely blue ones. She gave him the slightest scowl as she inclined her head to him, opened her mouth, and accepted the lime. As his fingertips grazed her lips she shuddered perceptibly.
Sark raised his glass to Ana, but looked into Sydney's eyes again while swallowing the hot liquid. An eternity seemed to Boris to have passed while Sark softly touched the side of Sydney's face and pulled her in towards him. He slowly sucked the juices out of the fruit, barely touching his lips to hers. When the lime ran dry, he removed the fruit from her lips and kissed her chin, drinking down the juice that spilled from her mouth. He kissed her hard once, as her hands migrated up to his jacket, pulling him towards her. They parted quietly, and looked at the ground rather nervously.
The tender moment was punctured by a squeal from Ana. "Oh Lauren! I love this song, come dance with me! You just must!"
With a barely concealed moment of fear, the blonde stood, accepting Ana's hand. "Julian, are you really going to let us out onto the dance floor unaccompanied?"
"Why wouldn't I pet?" he smiled slyly.
"Do you really trust other men with me? Or me with them for that matter?" she laughed nervously.
Facade of humor dropped from his face, he answered, "No. I don't," and rose to join the women on the dance floor.
This is going to be an interesting night, Boris thought to himself. He couldn't help but notice though, Reed's panicked need to not let Sark be alone with him. He brushed it off as if there was nothing to the thought, and rose to join the three young people on the dance floor.