The Trapped Assassin
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Here's another chapter! Hope you all have fun!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK. I don't make money writing CHUCK fan fiction.
She was afraid to sleep.
A grown woman, a CIA agent, an assassin, for shit's sake…afraid to sleep. Because of a nightmare.
She'd had nightmares before. They'd plagued her for the last decade or more. Faces of the people she'd killed, bits of their dossiers, all coming together to create the worst, most traumatizing nightmares imaginable.
It was endless. And still she hadn't exactly been afraid to sleep. She'd just grown accustomed to the night terrors and she'd taught herself to fall back asleep after them.
This one, though…she was afraid it might come back if she shut her eyes and relinquished control to her brain fully. The look in Chuck's face before the gun had gone off, the blood dripping down his temple, the deep purple on his chin. There was the confusion…
But it was just a nightmare, wasn't it? No one was out there, none of her victims had lived to get their revenge, and none of them had known her name, who she even worked for… Nobody was coming after her. Her brain was just playing games with her, feeding off of her nerves that she might be dragging this innocent, good person—and possibly his loved ones as well—into a dangerous life.
Because Sarah Walker wasn't naive. She was well aware that leaving the CIA didn't mean she was out of danger, and she knew that she'd potentially be followed by it wherever she went, always looking over her shoulder. It was fucked up, but she'd take it over pulling a trigger and watching someone's head explode in a mist of blood even just one more time.
The man lying beside her, his back facing her, shifted a little in his sleep, turning his face more into the pillow. She turned to look at him, listening to his heavy sigh, watching his shoulders settle and his breathing even out again. And then she moved onto her side, scooting a little closer.
She felt the warmth radiating off of him and realized for the first time that she was covered in goosebumps. There were two different kinds of chills going through her, the cold air kind and the cold thoughts kind. But she didn't press herself against him to steal his warmth. That was too… Well, it was too. Wasn't it?
Instead, Sarah reached out and lightly set one finger on his upper back. Then two, and finally a third, before she flattened her whole palm against him. And she shut her eyes, feeling the way his ribcage expanded with each breath. It set a strangely unnerving calm through her.
That some random civilian she'd met in a foreign country could instill this much calmness, make her feel almost…safe…made her wonder if she was capable of living a normal life. Maybe she was capable of regular moments with regular people. Maybe she could figure out how to fit in with regular society, live amongst other humans not as some killing machine designed to hide her true nature, but as someone who'd misjudged her true nature all this time. Maybe this random civilian had helped her find her true nature.
She felt so stupid suddenly and sighed, pulling her hand away and turning to lie on her back again, rolling her eyes at herself.
She needed to get the hell out of her own head and just go to sleep.
But then, just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard a soft mumble, then a grunt, and he squirmed a little. She watched as he turned his head, blinking in the moonlight slicing through the bedroom, confusion in his profile before he turned onto his back and caught sight of her. The grogginess was still there in his face, but there was a smile there too. "Hey," he drawled, his voice deep and crackling. A peaceful feeling settled in her gut at the sound of it.
"Hi."
"You been awake? You look all…alert."
She giggled. "Yeah. Can't sleep."
His brow creased as he turned onto his side to face her, folding his arm under his head. "You okay? Is it that work call you had to take earlier?" This guy wasn't just observant, he also stored things away in his brain to remember later, and she needed to recognize that. She needed to maybe be a bit more careful around him.
She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "No. It isn't that. I'm good. Just…not sleeping well. Maybe had too much scotch before bed."
He grinned at that. "No such thing."
Sarah giggled.
Chuck just smiled quietly. And then he let out a low whistle. "I'm sorry. I know I've been insufferable ever since I got that call. You've been very understanding and nice about it. And now I'm bringing it up again. It's just—I keep thinking about it and it's just nuts."
She shook her head at him, rolling over so that she was facing him this time. "You haven't been insufferable. I'm assuming this is a pretty big award you're nominated for and you should be excited, Chuck."
"I guess." He was still brimming and it made her feel light on the inside. Everything she'd been stressing over while staring at the ceiling a few minutes earlier went away. "It's just…God, I worked on that thing for years. I put everything I had into it, and I know for a fact that my employees did too. My artists and coders and designers and writers…We all worked so hard. Not that other folks developing other games don't. It's just…my creation getting that kind of attention? I'm…What is it the kids say these days? Shook?"
Sarah laughed at that, shaking her head at him. "I don't know you super well, Chuck. And I don't know the game super well, aside from playing it for a few hours that night. But I still know you deserve this." She reached over and tapped his nose affectionately.
He beamed at her. "Thank you. That means a lot." Then an unsure look came over his face and he swallowed thickly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He turned his head and stared at her quietly for what felt like quite some time. And she just let him, smiling just a little. "Can I just say, though…? I'm glad I got that news while I was with you. I-I mean, I'm really glad you're here with me for it. I don't really know why, if I'm being honest. It felt good having you in the room while something this big happened. I hope it's okay for me to say that."
Sarah wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she just pursed her lips and diverted her gaze, unable to keep the pleasure from her face. Even if she'd tried. Which she hadn't. Let him see it. Even if she felt like what he'd just said was…maybe too intense.
"It's okay," she finally said. "I'm glad I'm here for it, too. I'm not a video game person by any stretch of the imagination, but that game was really fun. And beautiful. Really beautiful. I was impressed while playing it and knowing that even people who are big-name video game people see it as worthy of an award nomination makes me even more impressed."
She thought she saw a blush on his face maybe but she couldn't tell with the way the room was still just dark enough. "Thanks," he murmured.
"You're impressive, Chuck. Objectively." She smiled. "I bet Ellie is super proud of you."
"Yeah. Yeah, she is. It's kind of…It's still just crazy, Sarah." He huffed and shook his head. "You know? I mean, as a kid this was what I wanted, it was what I wanted for my life, my career. I wanted to make games that weren't just fun but that…that changed people's perceptions, made a difference, made the industry…I dunno, inclusive. And slowly but surely, I think I'm starting to do that. At least, in my own little corner of the industry. This nomination kinda proves that. I think that's what Ellie's the most proud of."
"She should be proud. Again, I don't know you super well, but I think I can still say I'm proud of you, too. I haven't been around through this whole process, but seeing this today, having played the game, knowing you put a lot of work and time into it? I'm proud."
Chuck closed the distance and hovered over her for a moment, his features soft as he gently stroked the backs of his fingers down her face. Then he shook his head in awe. "Gah, thank you. Seriously. Everything feels like it's…almost…falling into place in the best way. And this…I mean, meeting someone like you, here of all places…it's like…cherry on top, you know?"
"I know what you mean," she breathed. He had no fucking idea. Making that massively huge decision about changing the trajectory of her life, yanking herself out of the only life she'd known as a CIA assassin, and diving headfirst into civilian life… only to land in this guy's lap. Cherry on top, indeed.
Maybe Chuck couldn't know she'd been an assassin for the CIA. But eventually she'd have to tell him the truth about being unemployed now. Whatever that would mean for the fake job she'd told him about. She wouldn't do that right now. He'd be brought down from this high and she didn't want that. She liked him like this, full of happiness and confidence and satisfaction. Energy emanating off of him.
She wasn't going to spoil it.
Instead, she smiled against his lips as he lowered them to hers, pushing her fingers through his hair and feeling the curls and their inherent softness against her palm. As they made out, their bodies tangled together, she waited patiently for the heat to ramp up…but it never did. Instead, there was just all-encompassing warmth.
And she finally fell asleep, his words implanted in her brain as she drifted off.
It felt good having you in the room while something this big happened.
—-
Sarah woke up first, with a yawn so big that it cracked her jaw. She reached over to grab her phone from the nightstand and found she couldn't. Her arm was trapped. And as she shifted, to look over her shoulder, she saw Chuck's face smashed against her shoulder, spooning her from behind, his arm not just draped over her side, but wrapped all the way around her and cuddling her to his front.
She smirked a little and glanced down at his hand curled around her waist, trapped between her body and the mattress. He'd probably lost feeling in those fingers, and quite possibly his whole arm. But he was still sleeping soundly against her.
Unsure of how to get out, she gently laid her hand over his and tried to carefully pull his arm away. As comfortable and warm as he was on what seemed like it might be an overcast morning, she wanted some coffee from that little coffee shop a block away from the hotel—Café Chaud, was it? Their coffee was so perfectly brewed, with beans straight out of the French countryside. It was better than the hotel's coffee. And she thought Chuck might appreciate a nice medium-sized latté when he woke up. Whenever that might be, since she'd managed to crawl away from him and stand beside the bed without him even budging a little.
Pulling on jeans, a tank top, and a sweater, she stepped into her knee-length boots and turned to leave the room altogether, when realization spilled through her. She'd nearly forgotten about that envelope the couriers had brought her. And now that she'd remembered, she felt like something heavy was settled in her stomach. Shutting her eyes, she took a deep breath and walked back to the nightstand, moving the menu and peering down at the envelope.
It wasn't too thick, but there was more in there than just a goodbye letter. Or whatever else the CIA's top assassin might receive from her ex-employer when she'd effectively quit the spy life for good.
She picked it up and rushed out of the bedroom, taking the letter into the main room of the suite by the couch and sitting down on the arm of it, opening it and peering inside.
The ex-assassin took the folded clump of papers out of the envelope and quickly flattened them on her lap. It was a severance package, with all of the impersonal and formal language someone who was laid off from a desk job at an accounting firm might receive.
But she wasn't fired. She'd quit. Why in the hell was she getting a severance package?
As she kept reading, she found herself gaping down at the document. The letter said they regretted to inform her that her "official job with the CIA no longer exists". She didn't have an "official job". She was a shadow who spent her life in more shadows and took care of loose ends for the U.S. intelligence community. Her existence within the Central Intelligence Agency was a thinly veiled front for what she actually did, an I.D. with a fake name that changed about once a month. The name on the document was "Miss Walker", a name she'd only had for a few weeks. But it was the most real a name had ever felt, she was the most at home with it. And it made this letter that much more real, seeing the name Sarah Walker on it. Her job was phased out…a job that didn't even exist…
She shook her head in shock, but jumped as something else slipped out of the envelope and fluttered to the floor at her feet. Furrowing her brow, she knelt down to snag it between her fingers and peered at it.
The package enclosed is a little gift from me. As a thank you. Enjoy that salty sea air for a few weeks, and then I'll see you when you get back. Just a few loose ends, Agent. Don't disappear on us. Not that you can, and I think you know that. -LG
Sarah swallowed thickly and slowly slumped off of the arm to plop onto the seat of the couch properly, staring straight ahead. So she wasn't fully divested from the agency, then. Not yet, at least. Not until she had a face to face meeting with Director Graham.
She was foolish to think it would be that easy, to just tell Casey she was finished and have Graham take that for what it was worth and never contact her again.
But he'd finagled things, pulled strings, to make it seem like they'd pushed her out, gotten rid of her job, were cleaning house, so to speak, and she was laid off. Just to get her a severance package. As she looked at the details, she saw it was a pretty fat severance package, too. "As a thank you", he'd written. For what? She was his personal weapon for a decade, but he'd also yanked her out of a situation that could have led her down a path that might've meant death or prison before her twentieth birthday even. Now here she was, just a few years out from thirty, an agent in the CIA instead. Even better than that, she had an opportunity to write her own story from here on out, away from the dark cloud that had been hovering over her while she did Graham's bidding, dirtied her hands with human blood.
She was unsettled. He was thanking her, giving her the gift of a massive severance package, starting her off on a strong foot as she ventured off on her own into the real world. And yet, there was no questioning the tone he'd used at the end there was very threatening.
Don't try to disappear on us because you can't wasn't the most threatening thing he'd said to her in her career, but it was still unmistakably threatening.
What else did he have to say to her? What loose ends were there to tie up?
She just wanted to be out of it. Forever.
It made her nervous. It made her feel like she might be on edge for the next few weeks until she was cleared to head back to D.C. and officially clean out her desk—a desk that was generally empty, lacking in personal effects, so she'd figured what was the point of even going back?
She hadn't wanted this.
She hadn't wanted to spend the rest of this vacation, the rest of her time with… She glanced over her shoulder at the cracked door that led back into the bedroom where he was still asleep in her bed. She hadn't wanted the dark specter of nervousness hovering over her for two weeks.
She just wanted to enjoy this. She wanted to enjoy her freedom.
And the warm and willing man she'd taken up with. Who was she kidding? At this point, she'd more than taken up with him. She didn't quite know the full meaning of that, but there it was.
She shoved everything back into the envelope and shoved it in the end table drawer, huffing in frustration, trying to settle her emotions, trying to get it together, before she walked out of her room and hurried down to the lobby, avoiding people as much as she possibly could until she got in line at the café a block away from her hotel.
Granted, at this point, she wasn't completely sure how Chuck Bartowski liked his coffee best. Because she didn't know him at all, she thought to herself a bit glumly. Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she moved up one person in line, now only two customers in front of her. She took it out and glanced at it.
"Where'd you go?" Chuck had texted with a smirking emoji attached.
She typed back a hurried, "I'm at Café Chaud. What do you want?"
"Oh, perfect morning for that! Just a hot latté, please. I'm in the mood for fancy."
Snorting and shaking her head, she replied, "You got it. Now go back to sleep. See you in a few."
He sent back a gif of a woman saluting dramatically in front of a waving American flag, making her laugh right as she sidled up to the counter to order their drinks in pristine French.
By the time she got back to the suite almost a half hour later thanks to how crowded the café ended up being, even before eight in the morning, she was ready to climb back into bed herself. It was just that kind of weather, and that envelope, or rather more the accompanying note from Graham, left her feeling like just climbing under the covers and tossing them over her head, just falling asleep and pushing all of it out of her outer room was empty, unchanged from how she'd left it, and as she carefully shouldered the door to the bedroom open, she saw that Chuck had fallen back asleep, this time flat on his back, the sheets bunched up just under his bellybutton. Maybe she shouldn't, but she couldn't help eyeing those chiseled hip bones partially poking out from under the sheet and duvet.
Biting her lip, she set both cups down on the nightstand next to him, and toed out of her boots, shrugging out of her jacket and her sweater, before undoing her jeans and pushing them down her long, shapely legs.
Sarah crawled back under the covers and scooted up close to him. He hadn't heard her or noticed her, but he wasn't as fully out as he'd been when she left. But then she heard him hum a little, deep in his chest, a small half-asleep smile stretching across his lips.
She did everything she could possibly do to shove the envelope and its contents out of her head and instead replace it with Chuck's happy news the day before, distracting her brain with thoughts of how impressive he was, how much he deserved the nomination his game had received. Whatever awaited her in D.C. in a few weeks, she was here now. And Chuck was lying here, on his back, the upper half of his body completely open and at her disposal.
A mischievous spark in her blue eyes, she oh so carefully lifted a leg and swung it over his body, watching as his small smile grew on his face, his eyes still not opening. He was awake now, she knew, but was still in that hazy phase of just waking up where you didn't want to open your eyes or move.
She was alright with him staying in that hazy phase while she hovered over him on all fours, nothing touching him but the lips she slowly pressed against his jaw. He grumbled, still not saying anything. It was how she liked it as she dotted kisses down his neck, licking teasingly along his collarbone. And then she let him enjoy her lips drifting down his hard chest, before she shifted her head to the side and sucked on one nipple for a while, feeling his body go tense beneath her, his jaw clenching she noticed in her peripheral. She moved to the other one then, letting him feel her tongue draping over it, flicking.
Sarah moved back and forth for a few minutes, feeling his body coming alive as she finally dragged her lips down along the indentation between his ribcage. She teasingly bit his last rib and made his body shiver. She thought she heard him gasp her name under his breath, but wasn't sure.
She wasn't even sure he was totally awake until she threw the duvet over her head and picked up his cock between her fingers, pressing her lips to the side of it. His body froze, and as he breathed, "Oh my God," she knew she'd woken him up completely now.
Sarah shifted so that she hovered over him again, positioned between his legs, the covers still shrouding her in a private cocoon with his lap, and she took him into her mouth totally, lowering herself 'til she felt him brush against the entrance to her throat. She stroked him as she bobbed her head up and down, loving the way he squirmed and muttered her name in a tight voice.
"Wh-What are you doing?" he panted after a few seconds.
She pulled back and smirked. "I should think it'd be obvious at this point," she teased.
"Oh God, you don't have-have to, wow oh my God." His voice was so tight, and she saw he was fisting the covers in one hand, the other landing on her head over the sheet. He didn't guide her, just leaving his hand draped there as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth, getting her tongue in on it, swirling it over his tip.
Pulling him out again, holding him steady with her fingers at his base, she licked up the bottom like he was an ice cream cone, sucking on the tip so that he jumped in surprise. "I want to," she informed him. "I like doing this. Deal with it."
"Oh gladly," he groaned as she dove in and pushed him all the way in her mouth, not stopping until he was as deep as possible. She swallowed around him and heard him punch the headboard in ecstasy. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed.
She stayed between his legs for awhile, kissing, sucking, licking, even twisting her fist around him for some time until she could feel his body almost shaking beneath her.
"I'm…almost there," he said through his clenched jaw.
The envelope, the CIA, Langston Graham…the feeling of dread…all of it was gone from her mind as she took that as her cue and threw the covers off of her head, pulling his boxers down his legs and tossing them over the edge of the bed, before her panties followed.
Not even bothering with her tank top, she scrambled back on top of him and let him guide himself inside of her. He groaned and his head fell back against the pillows as she sank onto him, biting her lip at that heady feeling of him filling her again.
She moved slowly, taking her time, gyrating her hips with precision as she braced one hand on his shoulder and reached up to grab the headboard in the other hand. And then she angled her torso down closer to his and dug her knees into the mattress on either side of his hips to make her thrusts longer.
"Sarah…" he whimpered, his hands landing on her waist. She felt his fingers slip under the cotton of her top, digging into the muscles of her lower back, and she began to swing her hips even harder, pressing her forehead down against his and letting out a moan.
Sarah could feel him shifting under her, and then she felt him thrust up into her, meeting her strokes as he braced his heels against the bed, catching onto her rhythm so that they were working together.
The ecstasy was palpable, feeling him so deep inside of her, watching the look on his face, knowing what she was doing was making him feel so good.
But Chuck had this incessant way of emphasizing her pleasure when they were having sex, and as much as she was finding herself becoming almost obsessed with that particular habit of his, she didn't want it to be about her this morning. That was why she'd woken him up in this way. Maybe that hadn't been the first thing on her mind, exactly…but still, she wanted this to be about him for once.
He still had this way of not letting her do the work, an inability to lie back and enjoy what she was doing to him.
It was different from what she'd come to expect from sex. And while she appreciated how giving he was, the man really needed to learn how to let himself take.
So she slowed things down a little, gyrating her hips methodically, and he slowed to match her pace, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he concentrated. Maybe that was it. He was concentrating on her pleasure rather than enjoying his own. Was he like this in every aspect of his life? Taking care of others while ignoring his own needs and wants?
She thought maybe he was.
And she was going to try to do her part to change that in at least one aspect of his life.
The ex-assassin leaned down, arching her back, and pressed her lips to his temple, before lowering them to his ear. She teased him a little, blowing against it and feeling him shiver under her. And then she breathed in as sultry of a voice as she could muster (without it being farcical), "Tell me what you want."
Chuck froze, and she pulled back a little to look into his face, her hips slowing to a halt as she sat her full weight in his lap and just stared. He was gaping up at her, as though he was unsure if he'd heard her right. "W-What? Sorry, I-I was…distracted."
She inwardly giggled at that. "I said, tell me what you want, Chuck. What do you want?"
"Uh…" He licked his lips again and let out a shaky breath. She'd thrown him off, she could tell. Had no one ever asked him that? A hint of mischief was in his brown eyes then as he flicked them back up to meet her blue ones. "World peace."
Sarah laughed and shook her head. "Oh my God, you mood ruiner."
He chuckled, tongue between his teeth. "Did I? Shit, I'm sorry. I was just trying to make ya laugh."
She was still laughing as she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well…Mission accomplished, but I've got my own mission I'm working on here, so will you help a girl out?"
Chuck winced, humor in his features, and nodded. "Yes. Sorry."
Sarah giggled and kissed the corner of his mouth affectionately. She ignored the warmth that spilled through his features at that. "I need you to tell me what you want. I want to give that to you as best I can."
He shook his head after giving her a thoughtful look, his handsome face serious as he furrowed his brow in question. "Why? I haven't even done anything to deserve that. I'm-I'm just a guy on vacation."
"What if I just want to give you what you need? You don't have to save the world to earn a gift, Chuck. Maybe I just like you a lot. Maybe I like the way you look when I touch you the right way. Or…" She leaned down and kissed his jaw, then moved her lips to a spot just under and behind his ear. "Maybe I like the way you say my name when you're in ecstasy."
His body lurched under hers as she bit his earlobe, her tongue flicking against it teasingly.
"Oh, my God."
She pulled back to look down into his face again. He was biting his lip, his brow furrowed. "So…? What do you want? Tell me. Don't be shy."
"I'll be honest. A huge part of me is yelling at me that this is all wrong. That I should be focusing on your pleasure. But holy shit, I need that part of me to shut up for once because my brain is way too loud and I really, really, really want to know what you're capable of and I hope that doesn't sound chauvinist or anything, dear God you're just so damn hot. Also I'm a little worried that if I ask for something and you do it the way you've been doing everything else for these last…however many days, I won't survive it."
Sarah giggled. How was he even real? She knew she'd thought that same thing about 57 times since she met him, but he was so fucking adorable it almost hurt. She sobered and leaned down, rubbing her nose against his and pecking him on the lips, giving a little jerk of her hips to make him grumble in pleasure.
"You'll survive. I'll make sure of it." She winked, earning a slow, big grin from the man underneath her.
She shrugged a little then, raising her eyebrows, wordlessly conveying, "Well, go on then" as he just kept watching her.
Instead of saying anything, though, he rounded her torso with a strong arm and held her tightly against him, shifting up the bed so that he was sitting up more against the headboard. She took the initiative to reach behind him and prop the pillows there so that he was more comfortable and was surprised when he then grabbed her by her wrists and pointedly made her grab onto the headboard over his shoulders.
He then slipped his hand under her tank top and blanketed her breast with his palm, squeezing. She gasped, moving to take the tank top off altogether, but he gave a little shake of his head. Well, alright then, she thought to herself, smirking as she put her hands back on the headboard.
"Fast or slow?" she asked, readjusting her knees.
"Yes."
She laughed, earning another grin that wrinkled his nose.
"Whatever strikes you in the moment…" he amended, and then he sat up and kissed her hard, his free hand cupping her face and pulling her in close. When he broke the sizzling kiss, leaving her breathless, he said, "Take me. However you want."
The raspiness of his voice, how deep it was, and the words themselves…
Sarah bit her lip, feeling lust pool in her center, and then she put a hand on his chest, shoving him with teasing roughness back against the pillows, and she began to rock in his lap. He squeezed her breast in time with her strokes, but as she began to build speed, he started losing her rhythm. She slowed again, earning a soft whimper, and then she sped up, this time getting to the point where she was riding him hard, practically bucking in his lap. The headboard began to thump lightly against the wall as Chuck groaned and threw his head back, panting her name.
The way he said it, with absolutely no shame about the desperation dripping from it, was such a turn on. No man had ever needed her like this. And if they did, they certainly never felt confident enough in their own masculinity to show it so visibly, let her hear it the way he did.
Sarah slowed again just as suddenly, biting her cheek to keep from giggling when he let out a surprised whimper, his free hand grabbing her ass and squeezing that along with her breast still clutched in his other hand. He gave her a bit of a look, lowering his chin and narrowing his eyes, but she could tell he was enjoying the teasing.
She did everything she could to switch things up, continually surprising him, getting him to groan her name in ecstasy, his eyes rolling back, that sexy slow smile of his appearing on his face.
The ex-assassin made him last for a long time, building him up so that he balanced right on the edge, then slowing down to give him and herself a bit of a breather, before building him right back to that precipice again. She did it over and over and over, until his cheeks were red, his chest heaving, his body strung so tight under hers.
She stopped altogether, sitting up straight so that he was as deep as possible inside of her. And as he kept his hands on her waist, she took the opportunity to yank her tank top off over her head and threw it somewhere towards the end of the bed. His eyes immediately fell to her breasts and practically feasted on them, licking his lips before he sat up to surround her nipple with his hot, wet mouth.
Sarah cursed and put a hand on the back of his head, letting her fingers enjoy the pleasure of his insanely soft curls between them. She could feel herself getting closer to a finish, but she did her best to ignore it, instead starting to move against him again with shallow, slow bounces into his lap.
"Mm…Sarah…" he whimpered, his voice muffled against her breast.
She gripped onto his head with both hands and held him close, bouncing a little harder, jerking her hips. And with a sudden outcry of his name, she slipped right over the edge herself, feeling that overwhelming ecstasy course through her, the tight release between her legs. Her thighs shook a bit at how powerful of an orgasm it was and she fought the urge to just slump against him, instead shoving him back to the pillows, grabbing onto that headboard again, and riding him wildly.
Chuck finally relented, just letting his head fall back, blinking at the ceiling, crying out her name as she rode him, until she finally felt his body get tight, shiver…and that amazing heat filled her center. "Sarahhh!" he whimpered, gripping onto her waist so tightly she thought she might bruise a little later.
Sarah rocked on him until she thought he was really done, and then she stopped, panting for air, putting one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest to keep herself sitting upright. "Y'okay?" she asked through rough breaths.
His mouth was open wide in awe, eyes heavy lidded, his chest heaving. "Oh. My. God."
He looked stunned in the best way and it was all she could do not to hug him so tight his eyes popped out of his head like one of those bad cartoons from when she was a kid. "I can't feel my toes or fingers. Is that normal?" he joked breathlessly.
This time she did laugh, and she carefully eased him out of her, before plopping onto the mattress next to him. "Uh, probably."
He laughed too, still trying to catch his breath, and then he groaned, rolling over so that he could cuddle up against her body, hugging her against him tightly. "You know how people always say fill-in-the-blank is better than sex? They're liars."
Giggling, she scooted down in the bed a little and dragged him with her, cradling him against her chest and drawing patterns on his bare back with her fingers oh so lightly. He felt so good against her, even just like this, as heavy as he was, his warm weight pressing down against her. The assassin from even just three weeks earlier would have found this oppressive.
Instead, right at that moment, with his hair tickling her neck, she just felt supremely safe.
—-
She heard the soft click of the latch opening and grabbed the handle, oh so quietly sliding the glass door open just enough to squeeze into the dark room, before she shut it again behind her.
She waited. For a full 30 seconds, she stood still as a statue and just listened. Her intel had been right. The suite was empty, at least for now. Taking a deep breath, she took her flashlight out and turned it on, flashing it around the main room of the suite, looking on top of desks, dressers, tables…any horizontal surface.
When she decided her search was in vain in that room, she silently pushed into the bedroom and flashed the light across each of the nightstands on either side of the bed. A bottle of aspirin, a half full glass of water, a book, an iPad, a baseball cap…
She checked the pile of clothes in the corner of the room with the flashlight next to one of the suitcases. It wasn't there. As she checked the rest of the dressers, the table by the window, the side table next to the chaise, she started realizing that maybe this thing was going to be harder to find than she thought.
Or maybe she'd have to go in the closet and actually comb through their things.
God, she really didn't want to do that. But it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to search someone's things. She'd done it so often, each time just blurred into the last. But this wasn't the same as all of those times. Because these were real people. Rather, they were people she knew, people she liked, and she genuinely didn't want to invade their privacy. She didn't want to know what they kept in their suitcases, whether Devon Woodcomb was a boxers or briefs guy…
It wasn't right.
But she needed that stupid disposable camera.
She'd nearly forgotten about it, about the pictures of her that were in it. But then this morning, after staying in bed with Chuck until well after 9:30, Chuck had been getting dressed when Devon texted him about how frustrated he was trying to find a place that would develop the film of the crappy little disposable camera. Chuck had reminded her of the picture Devon had taken of them kissing, and the nerves had buzzed to life inside of her. It was that feeling you got when you realized you had forgotten something important, like realizing you left your credit card at a restaurant.
Agent Sarah Walker—Katie, Nancy, Ada, Lucy, Penny, Sonja, and the other hundreds of names she'd gone by in her CIA career that spanned over a decade— had disposed of every single picture ever taken of her. Or at least…those she'd known of.
None of them had survived. It was by design.
There was one picture of her in her dossier, when she'd died her hair dark brown and wore heavy makeup. Because of the nature of her role with the agency, the way they'd kept her in the shadows, allowing herself to be captured on film was not something she did.
So it was no wonder she was hit with a cold sweat as she remembered that there was a camera sitting in Ellie and Devon's suite with pictures of her. Whether it would be easy to recognize her in them or not, the fact that they existed at all was very unsettling.
And so she'd considered stealing a key from one of them to get into their suite while they were gone and stealing the camera. Devon wouldn't be able to find it and he'd assume it was lost. He'd misplaced it or it had fallen out of his pocket somehow. She'd never have to worry about it again.
But then she realized how much extra work that would be, and how much more of a risk it was. So instead, she chose to get onto their balcony from hers. It was a simple enough task, one she'd done enough times in other hotels when she was assigned a target by the director of the CIA. She'd snuck onto many a target's balcony, drug lords, crooked ambassadors, other criminals…
She'd just had to text Chuck for a while during the day while he was in his suite checking emails and doing a little business surrounding that game—Wallace-16—being nominated for an award. And she'd managed to get him to tell her that Ellie and Devon were going out to dinner with him, and what time they'd be going, all without actually asking him the question. He'd offered the information himself. Spying 101.
Sarah winced. She had to get that camera. She couldn't let that film survive. She felt bad. Devon had probably taken a lot of really beautiful pictures. She really felt terrible. But she couldn't let pictures of her exist, even in the hands of trustworthy people like these.
She tipped the black suitcase onto its side and checked the outer pockets first. There was a belt, an iPad charger, some floss, nail clippers. It had to be inside of the suitcase then.
Letting out a quiet sound of reluctance, she nevertheless unzipped Devon's suitcase and carefully opened it up, revealing some folded clothes and a few gift bags with things he'd probably bought on vacation so far.
She didn't want to snoop. She didn't want to know anything about the man's life based on what was in his suitcase. She just wanted that damn camera. So she dug down the sides of the suitcase, trying to feel for cool plastic, a cube-shaped thing…
It took a minute, but she finally felt it in her fingers and pulled it out of the bag. "Yes!" she breathed, turning it over in her hands and pointing the light down at it.
Just as she shut the suitcase, her fingers clasping the zipper, she heard the deedle-dee of the suit door being unlocked by the key.
Shit!
Chuck had failed her with his intel!
"I knooow, I knooooow, you told me I needed my jacket and I said my sweater was warm enough and I was wronnnng," she heard Ellie grouse sarcastically.
"I didn't say anything!" That was Chuck's voice, chuckling at his sister.
"You said it with that annoying 'I told you so' face that I hate." She huffed as the lights in the main room turned on. Sarah had already managed to dive underneath the bed, her flashlight off, the camera tucked in the back pocket of her pants. "How was I supposed to know the restaurant would only have outdoor seating?"
"Well, it's later than we usually eat, which is prime European culture dinner time. We probably should've known."
"Whatever," she heard the brunette mutter. She heard the bedroom door pushed open then and she sucked some air in, holding her breath. That made absolutely no difference to whether or not she'd be found, it was just an inherent reaction.
Sarah watched as a pair of cute two-inch heels strode into the room, Chuck's black Converse sneakers following behind. She pulled her hands in close to her body, making herself as small as possible.
"Anyway…" The heels moved towards the closet as Chuck moved to the bed and sat down. The springs squeaked above her, his feet just a few inches away from her. "What's Sarah up to tonight?"
Somehow, Sarah managed to wince even harder than she'd already been wincing.
"Uh, I don't know." There was a pause, then he said, "What?"
"Nothing! Nothing, nothing. I'm just surprised you don't know because you spend, like, every day with her practically…"
Sarah heard the way the sentence trailed off at the end, how it was pretty purposeful. And she knew Chuck had heard it, too.
"And?" he prompted.
"No and. I just noticed, that's all. And I'm surprised you don't have plans or something later. After dinner." Then she clicked her tongue, and Sarah heard her rummaging through the closet. "Actually, why didn't you just invite her to dinner with us?"
"El, I can't invite her to every single thing."
"…Why?"
"Because!"
"That has never worked as an answer to 'why' and it never will, bud. Why can't you just invite her if you want her someplace?" Then she paused. "Unless…you don't want her there?"
Oh, shit. Sarah really didn't want to be here for this conversation. She definitely didn't want to hear it if Chuck was tired of her, done with her, or if he was just going through the motions or something. God, what if it was just about the sex? Why was she letting her mind run away with her? She wished she could just melt into the floor and drip down into the suite below them where she couldn't hear this conversation anymore because it was such a horrible invasion of Chuck's privacy. Oh, God. Help.
"Why wouldn't I want her there? What are you getting at?"
"I dunno, Chuck. You spend so much time together. And with your reluctance about inviting her to dinner, I'm just wondering if you need space from her. You know, like…you're tired of this whole thing."
"That is not what's going on here! Oh, my God. Not even a little bit." Sarah's eyes shut in relief. "You know how much of a weirdo she'd probably think I was if, like, every damn second of every day, I was like, 'Hey Sarah, want to eat breakfast with me? Want to eat lunch with me? What are you doing for dinner? Want to have dinner with me? What about dessert? And then you can stay over, too. Rinse and repeat, Sarah.' I don't want her feeling like I'm this clingy, intense weirdo, Ellie. That's the last thing I want here."
There was genuine worry in his tone, and for a split second, she wanted to just reach out and wrap her hand around his ankle reassuringly. And then she clasped her hands over her mouth to hold in a laugh, because she imagined how incredibly bad it would be if she acted on that urge. He'd probably have a heart attack, there would be screaming, they'd wonder why in the fuck she was under Ellie and Devon's bed…
It was such a relief to know she wasn't the only one overthinking this really intense, sudden, explosive…relationship. He wasn't as chill as he presented himself to be when he was with her. His brain probably went a mile a minute about it. And she was so glad. God, she just thought she was…crazy or something.
Granted, she was crazy.
And insanely inexperienced with anything having to do with relationships.
She was in way over her head here. And it was actually pretty nice to know she wasn't the only one.
"Oh my God, Chuck. You're mental. Calm down. Do you really think she's going to think you're some sort of stalker because you invite her to dinner?" Ellie asked, her voice flatter than anything Sarah'd ever heard in her life.
"No! God. Ellie, it isn't that simple, okay? I wanna do things…right."
"Well, yeah…duh. Do you think the black one is better? Or the grey with the pockets?"
"Ellie. We're sitting out on a candlelit patio. Just pick a jacket, woman."
"You're an asshole."
"Well, you're a brat."
"I mean, kinda."
They both chuckled at that. And Sarah heard Ellie shut the closet again. "Since Devon's not here and it's finally just me and you together, alone, I'm about to get really deep with you, brother. And you just have to deal with it and answer honestly, okay?"
No. Sarah did not want to be here listening to whatever thing Ellie wanted to tell Chuck because she thought they were alone. God, she'd even forsake the damn camera for this. Let everyone have a picture of her mauling Chuck's face! She didn't care!
"Fine."
"Are you doing the freaking out thing that you always do when you really, really, really, really like a girl?"
"What?! I don't—What thing? I don't have a thing."
"Right. Okay."
There was a lot of sass in Ellie's voice.
"I don't."
"Chuck, I love you. Dearly. But you have a thing. You get all stuck up in your head and you freak out. You spiral. You think you're going to do something to ruin it. OR, and this one's a beauty, you let her run all over you."
Chuck grumbled and Sarah wondered if Ellie had precedent to say that. "That's not fair," he muttered.
"You're right, I'm sorry. That was kinda mean. And I don't mean that like Sarah's the type of girl who'd run over you, but you've let too many jerks do that. Anyway, I can see you in the starting stages of the spiral thing with her."
"What am I supposed to do, Ellie?"
"Chill the fuck out," she laughed. "Although, you never quite denied really, really, really liking this particular girl."
"First of all, let's get this straight. Sarah is not a girl. She is 100 percent a woman." Sarah widened her eyes and felt a certain amount of warmth settle deep behind her belly button. "But to answer your question, yes. Of course. I'd have something genuinely wrong with me if I didn't really, really, really like her. She's…" He searched for a word.
"Yeah," Ellie finally finished for him when he seemed unable to come up with one. "She is."
"Awesome's probably worried we got hit by a car or something at this point. Let's go back."
"One last thing."
"Whaaaaat?" he whined like a petulant child. She didn't know what was wrong with her that she found it cute. She watched as he stood up and crossed the room to the door of the bedroom that led into the other part of the suite, Ellie following after him.
"Text her right now and invite her to dinner."
Sarah smiled to herself and shook her head. Ellie was relentless and she liked it.
"Right now? We're about to eat already. That's awkward. She'll show up halfway through the meal and she'll feel out of place or something."
"No, she won't. I eat really slow. Text her. Take your phone out right now and do it."
"Aaah, Ellie! Stoppp!"
Sarah's smile died suddenly then because she realized Ellie was trying to get Chuck to send her a text. And when he did, her phone would go off. Oh, fuck! She fumbled in her back pocket, trying to grab her phone, but with how low the bed was, she was having a hard time doing it without making a sound.
"I'm not inviting her to dinner. I'll talk to her later, but that's rude anyway." God, thank you, Chuck. Stick to your guns, she thought to herself. She was still trying to get to her phone to turn the sound off.
"How's it rude?"
They left the room, turning the light out, their voices getting further and further away. "Because it'll be evident I didn't think to invite her earlier and just did it last minute, probably because you mentioned it. And it'll seem like she's an afterthought—" The light in the other room turned off and the door to the suite shut.
She was left alone finally.
Letting out a long sigh of relief, she went limp and just laid there, letting everything that had just been said wash over her. She had heard a lot. And she wasn't sure if she regretted it or was glad.
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