Mistaken

Amelie was certain she was lost. When she asked the receptionist for the Blackwatch offices, she'd gotten a strange look. The directions had been a bit odd. Go to the far back of the facility and take the freight elevator to the basement level. Surely this was wrong. Gerard said his temporary office had a beautiful view. The girl at the front desk had insisted this was how she would get to the Blackwatch area. It was like a maze. Windowless corridors all the same stark white, and featureless doors to rooms marked in stark numbers, but no directory or words to let her know where the offices were. She had gotten so turned around she didn't even know the way back to where the elevator was anymore. And she was eerily alone. Yes she knew the hour was late. It was why she had come to drag her husband home. Apparently everyone else was sane enough to have gone home for the night. Gerard was probably working at yet more paperwork, getting ready to take his new post in Rome.

They had been in Zurich for weeks, and she was tired of eating dinner alone. Going to bed alone. She had yet to make friends here, and she barely saw her husband enough to know he was alive. It was lonely. She heard something though. A steady thudding, like fists striking leather. She followed the sound to a set of double doors. Sighing, she pulled on the handle of the one closest to her. To her relief, it opened smoothly. Silently. Giving her a view of the man working the heavy, punching bag in front of him. He wore a faded black tee shirt, stretched over an impressive muscular frame, broad shoulders, like an action hero. There was a touch of steel grey in the short cropped black, indicating he was an older man, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties. She admired the tight buttocks and thick, muscular thighs that were not hidden by his stretch pants.

Her ballerina friends had always teased her for having "daddy" issues, because she was drawn to these mature men instead of the pretty boys that filled the ballet troupes. Amelie didn't care. She knew what she liked. It's why she married Gerard despite the two decade age gap. Older men were more experienced . They also worked harder to keep younger women satisfied. Or at least, Gerard had worked to keep her satisfied until he was named the new commander of the Overwatch facility in Rome. Now it was a kiss on the cheek as he rushed away with a coffee travel cup and a croissant, that is if she managed to be up early enough to catch him before he left for the temporary office in the Zurich Overwatch Watchpoint. She'd had nothing but her own fingers between her legs for weeks, and that simply wasn't enough.

She sighed internally and imagined what it would like to be taken by a man like the one she was watching now. He was handsome, in that hard, street thug way. His face wasn't pretty. It was so masculine, scarred, with a dark stubble on his face that made him look both villainous and intimidating. He looked… rough. Dangerous. He looked like the type of man who would take what he wanted. Amelie felt herself moisten, her body felt fevered, and she knew that this man could tempt her into doing wild, uninhibited things... if she were not a loyal wife.

"You the… entertainer ?" the rough growl of his voice startled her.

Dark eyes raked over her with open appraisal, lingering on her breasts and hips, looking frankly at her like a hungry lion might look at a gazelle.

"I… yes. I'm an entertainer." Amelie answered, confused.

She was a professional ballet dancer. Or had been. She'd given up her place in the Paris based company where she had been a leading soloist. It had hurt. To turn her back on a lifetime of relentless work and sacrifice. But Gerard had kept at her to give their marriage priority. Priority that could only be accomplished if she had no distractions other than being the help mate he needed to succeed at his ambitions. Now her days and nights were empty. Despite what Gerard had claimed, there was not much she could do other than be the arm candy he needed for parties and events. Now that he had his new promotion, his place as a commanding officer, she was no longer needed. At least for now. Gerard had laughed and said she could use the time to relax. But this wasn't what she wanted. She had always been busy, and happy, with her dancing. Perhaps… perhaps she might go back. She had kept up with her training. Keeping her body supple and lithe, the instrument of her own ambitions, to become a ballerina.

"Well, the boss man didn't lie. You are beautiful. Do you understand what you are in for? It's going to be pretty rough. No one will fault you if you turn back now."

He looked at her with a grim expression, brows low over his eyes in a scowl, as if to frighten her away.

Amelie cocked her head to the side and tried to understand what he was saying. How very rude he was to speak so familiarly with her. They were strangers to each other after all. Or was he just blunt? Obviously he had been talking with Gerard about her. She didn't know what to think about that, but she couldn't show this unknown man anything but the strength he seemed to think she lacked.

"I can take it. Rough? No matter how rough it is, I can take whatever is thrown at me."

His face broke into a predatory smile, and she wondered at how white his teeth seemed so sharp, shining in the dark tan of his face.

"Great! Then we can start now. Struggle like you mean it. Fight like a wildcat, it's okay. I'm gonna love taming you and fucking you hard and raw."

To be continued