Warning: Rated: T+ (Seventeen and over) Please stop reading if sexual content is offensive. [Note: The 2nd section in this chapter is not rated T+, so if you wanted, you could skip the 1st section, read the 2nd section,and then skip the last section if you get offended by this sort of content.]

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Layla's preferred position was on top, and she settled into a rhythm that tested Tony's endurance. They had already consummated their relationship three times, and he quickly learned that she could be as fierce in her love making as she could be tender. And based on her constant desire for him, it was evident that she hadn't been with a man worthy of her talents in a long time. Not that he thought of himself as Adonis, but she certainly seemed to.

He never stopped his thrusting when she arched her back and let the ripples of carnality over take her; instead, he continued until she was in sync with him again. And he let her guide the way, telling him with her eyes and moans when she was ready to experience another orgasm. But when the pressure deep inside his abdomen had intensified and he could no longer hold back, he held tightly to her waist and waited as her desirous moans grew in strength, until he could no longer control the urge and he released, exploding deep within her. For several minutes, they writhed in each other's arms, experiencing the purely unadulterated and delirious pleasure of simultaneous orgasms.

She fell over, landing next to him on the oversized bed. Breathing heavily, he pulled his hand over his chest, wondering if he was going to have a heart attack with his heart beating the way it was. Sweat poured off their faces and they lay, catching their breath, slowing their hearts, and clearing their heads.

"Wow," she gasped.

He lulled his head and looked at her profile. She may not have been the best lover he'd ever been with, but she was pretty damn close. Same could be said of her beauty. He eventually rolled onto his side facing her, wanting to have a badly needed discussion, but she had other plans. She spooned into him and took his arm and draped it over her. He could tell that she felt comfortable and relaxed, probably more than she'd felt in a long time.

And he felt the same way. He liked her company, her humor, her looks, and her sexual prowess. If he allowed it, he could fall for her. She was everything he had longed for in a woman. But once again, she was exactly what he couldn't have. And when he thought about not having her, it wasn't in an incompatible way; it was in a dangerous way. As in, she is a very dangerous woman. Something in his gut told him she was not what she seemed. Once again, he was reminded of how his gut could sometimes suck.

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-RETURN TO REGULAR T Rating-

Palmer looked around at his colleagues. They may not have anyone home waiting for them, but he did. "Breena's going to be really worried," he said.

Abby's expression changed and she became excited. "Hey! She could call the police!"

Unfortunately, her enthusiasm wasn't being reciprocated and she cocked her head and said, "She's the only one who's going to miss us, right?"

Ziva stretched her neck and explained, "They took our cell phones and are probably answering our text messages. They are most likely telling her that Jimmy is working on a case and does not know when he will be home."

"Oh," she said, deflated. Sometimes her own naiveté really annoyed her.

"That explains why I got my insulin," Palmer considered. "They gave me my pouch when they took us to the bathroom. Breena always reminds me to take it when I work late."

"Agent Gibbs," Vance said, pulling himself out of his thoughts, "do you remember Senator Peterson from Illinois?"

It was an odd question but Gibbs remembered him. He had run for the Democratic bid for President two elections ago and lost. He had ridden the sympathy train because his wife had been diagnosed with brain cancer and he was the perfect image of a devoted husband and father. That is until one of the national rags uncovered his affinity for a beautiful blonde. He fell from grace very quickly, but the twist wasn't so much that he had an affair but that certain intelligence files showed up on the black market. He headed up the government oversight committee on homeland security and it was widely speculated that the files came from his office. Nothing could be proven, but his reputation had been so hurt that he was forced to resign under threat of prosecution. "Yeah, I remember him."

Dr. Mallard had remembered the case too. It had been headline news for many weeks. But there was something else he was thinking about: the death of another man and his connection to a beautiful blonde. "Do you remember the investigation into the death of Colonel Benjamin Briggs?"

Suddenly, Gibbs was connecting the dots. His mind moved quickly to identify the woman who was responsible for bringing down Peterson and Briggs as Clara Halloway, AKA Crazy Dame. A killer of the most dangerous kind, an expert at avoiding capture and one of the smoothest con artists ever to work the political venues of DC. And Tony was with her. "DiNozzo. He's going to be in trouble."

"What are you talking about?" Ziva asked, not bothering to mask her concern.

Vance said, "There's a woman who's eluded law enforcement agencies for over three years. She's a professional information trader, meaning she tricks high ranking politicians into giving her access to restricted places. She somehow manages to get the intel she needs and then sells that information to the highest bidder. Usually, she leaves a path of death and destruction in her wake."

"Why hasn't she been caught?" McGee asked.

"Because she never leaves any witnesses."

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-Rated T+(Seventeen and Over)-

Tony woke with a start. He hadn't slept very well, mostly trying to figure out how he was going to contain her while avoiding being shot by all her hired help carrying automatic weapons.

She rolled over and touched his face, "Hey, Good-Lookin'."

"Hi."

She moved seductively and wantonly and it took every ounce of his willpower not to succumb to her again. He needed answers, and he figured she owed him answers. Throwing caution to the wind, he simply asked, "Why don't you let my friends go?"

Annoyed, she controlled her anger and said, "Not know, darling."

"If not now, then when?"

"I don't want to talk about them."

"You've used me for what you wanted, now do me a favor and let them go."

She slowly turned her head to face him. Barely being able to control her anger, she replied, "I said I'm not talking about them. Besides, they are dead by now. Well, everyone except your Director."

He stared in dumbfounded disbelief.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew that the minute I told you my plans. You, on the other hand, have a future if you decide to join me."

And suddenly he realized who he was dealing with, and his blood chilled. She was the woman dubbed Crazy Dame by law enforcement officials around the country. There were no pictures of her, but she was infamous for using her feminine wiles to trick and seduce government officials who often never knew they had been duped. If they were lucky, they only lost their reputations; the not so lucky ones lost their lives as well. From all accounts, she'd never been photographed or ID'd by any witnesses. She was so good at what she did that few people even realized they were being duped until it was too late. Some profilers called her psychotic, while others labeled her a sociopath.

"Why are you staring at me?" she demanded.

"I just thought of something."

"Did you just realize who I am?"

He stared at her, not sure how he should answer.

Her blue eyes deepened in color and she threw herself on top of him, pressing her mouth hard against his. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, sexually devouring him. He returned the gesture with equally as much force elevating their passion to a dangerous state of euphoria. His brain stopped functioning as she knew all too well that it would because hers was barely working.

His mind spun when she sought out and manipulated all the places on his body that drove him crazy. He decided it was his turn to be on top, and he rolled her over and felt her legs spread in lustful anticipation. There wasn't a part of her body that didn't feel like satin against his. The rhythm they kept and the pace she set was far too fast for him and if he was going to make this last, he needed to slow things down. He did, but she craved him and pushed him deep inside, moaning, building to her own climax, thrusting as much as she could until her muscles rippled in ecstasy and she cried out in delusional excitement at the pleasure she was deriving from her handsome lover.

And she never felt the 66 pounds of pressure applied to her neck.

He lay on top of her; his own needs having been denied. She was still smiling, and her eyes were open, unfocused on any one object. By her expression, he almost didn't believe she was dead and so he felt for her carotid artery.

She was dead.

He closed her eyes and then rolled off her, half waiting to hear her voice. The moment was surreal as he tried to wrap his brain around what he'd just done. It wasn't something he'd ever done before, so he had no way of knowing just how damn easy it was to break someone's neck. But it was. As it began to sink in, his stomach lurched, and he made it to the bathroom just in time to empty the contents of his stomach.

TBC

End of the T+(Seventeen and over) rating. Returning to the T rating for the remaining chapters.