- Home
- C. P. Mandara
Sparks (A Special Agent Novel Book 1) Page 10
Sparks (A Special Agent Novel Book 1) Read online
Page 10
Somehow, I ended up in the shower, though I have no recollection of James untying me, or of him removing all the various wires, needles, and electrodes that had covered me. I was still sobbing, and I had several months’ worth of grief to get out of my system. Judging by my strangled cries and bleary, swollen eyes, I was doing a good job. I suspected he was wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
Cradled to his chest, he whispered soothing words of comfort in my ear as he gently soaped my body down. When my cries began to dry up a little, I noticed, in a kind of surreal moment, that he was still fully clothed and that his shirt and jeans were now plastered to his body. When he began to soap me between my legs, my thoughts turned once again to desire. The man looked more edible than chocolate, and if I wasn’t bone tired, I’d have considered ripping his clothes off. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d just come about a million times! Was this orgasm thing catching, I wondered? The more you had, the more you wanted?
When we’d finished in the shower, he bent me double so my hands were gripping the towel rail, and covered me from head to toe in a soothing moisturiser, paying special attention to my backside, and it sure as hell needed it. He then wrapped me in a big, white fluffy bathrobe and sat me on his lap. Towelling my hair dry gently, he turned my face so I’d have no choice but to look at him.
“Are you okay?”
I smiled wanly. “Not really,” I said. “But I will be, one day.”
“Grief is a funny thing,” he said, not unsympathetically, and I got the feeling that he understood exactly where I was in my life.
“How do you read people so well?” I whispered. My tears had dried up for now, but I knew they’d be back later. I had an ocean of emotions inside me that still needed to escape, but I wasn’t going to subject James to that, even though he was a colossal bastard.
He grunted and began to run a wide-toothed comb through my hair. “I’ve just seen too much of life, both the good and bad parts.”
When I angled my head to look up into his eyes, for a moment I saw Kiel. His eyes were a completely different colour, the hair was too short, and the face was all wrong, but somehow I saw him. He had the same kind of compassion that Kiel had worn upon his sleeve, and in my line of work, that was as rare as being allowed a day off. I don’t remember the last time I took a holiday. Well, when I was of sound mind to do so. The job requires that I’m always on call, or available for an assignment at a moment’s notice, so there are no vacations. Maybe after my next job, I’d take some. Hell, they probably owed me about six months’ worth. I could just see myself soaking up the rays on a small, virtually inaccessible island in Fiji. The idea had merit.
When the comb stopped, James got up and retrieved my bag for me. “In a moment, I’ll give you some privacy so that you can get dressed, but then I’ll be back to drive you home.”
When I began to shake my head, his gaze hardened. “After the session you’ve had, there’s no way I’m letting you take public transport. Also, you need to ring a friend and have her stay with you tonight. If you don’t have one, I’ll stay with you. By the looks of it, things are about to get worse before they get better, and I know how that pans out. You need company, and I won’t leave until you have some.”
“Are you always this infuriatingly domineering?” The tears were gone, my voice was clipped, and my eyes were cold.
He dumped my bag in my lap and put his hands on his hips. “No, usually I’m much, much worse, but I’m treading carefully around you at the moment.” He bit his lip, and I had a sudden, violent urge to punch the guy. I fought my way past it.
“Out of curiosity,” I said, changing the subject, “how did I do? Do you’ll think I’ll make it as a submissive, or am I doomed to failure?”
“Hmm.” There was a pause as he digested my words, and he was obviously considering his response. “Well, you’re the first woman who’s ever made it past the two hour mark in one of my sessions, so that has to be a good omen.”
“Ooh, you complete and utter…” I threw my bag back at him, hitting him hard in the stomach, and the inhuman beast didn’t even flinch.
“That’s why I took away your watch. It’s called a mind-fuck. If you thought you had five minutes left, you’d have pulled yourself through no matter what. If you think you have an hour or more, then it’s a whole different ballgame.” He smiled. “Your stamina is amazing. I’m rarely impressed, but you did good, kiddo.”
“Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes, but felt secretly pleased with myself.
“As to whether you’ll make it as a submissive, I’d hazard a guess that it won’t come easy, but if you have the right incentives along the way, I think you’ll do fine.” He didn’t expand on that one, and I didn’t feel inclined to push it.
“Get dressed. I’ll be back for you in ten minutes. If you’re not ready for me, then you’ve earned yourself another spanking, young lady.” He strode toward the door and walked straight through it without looking back.
Hearing it slam, I shook my head and retrieved my satchel from the floor. Whilst I suspected the man was joking, I didn’t care to push my luck. James Leverett was not someone you messed with. The man was just as dangerous as me, and disconcertingly, perhaps more so. Letting out a soft sigh, I dragged my clothes on and decided to save analysing him until a later date. He could take me home, I would call a friend as ordered, and that would be the last time I needed to set eyes on him.
Strangely enough, the idea was upsetting. Why? Because I’d just met my match and had every intention of letting him slip right through my fingers. I couldn’t afford to become attached to someone, and I didn’t want to have to deal with the idea of living a lie anymore. From now on, I was going to be a one-woman band. Besides, I’d be far too busy chained up in some millionaire’s mansion when I began my next assignment. In a few weeks’ time, I’d forget James Leverett even existed. Hell, I’d barely be able to remember his name.
Nine
Two months later, I found myself sitting behind a spotless glass desk in a prestigious London office. I was dressed in an immaculate black suit, and bored out of my mind with paperwork. Miss Sharkey (appropriately named – or should that have been Snarkey?) had decided to keep an eye on me before she agreed to clear me for field duty, and I had to admit that I was as close as I’d ever been to having my sturdy rod of control snapped in half. Filing in chronological order should have been declared a modern day torture method. Seriously, I’d take waterboarding over the past three weeks of hell I’d been forced to endure. The inactivity was killing me, the coffee sucked, and the work was mind-numbingly dull. Faxing, copying, redirecting telephone calls, typing, spreadsheets, and more of the same came my way daily. The eight-hour workday suddenly morphed into a suffocating prison sentence with seemingly no end in sight. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were actively trying to court my resignation. There was no way I could take much more of this. How did people do this every day?
There was only one thing that managed to keep me sane at the moment, and interestingly enough it was driving me insane at the same time. Infuriatingly, I could not get James Leverett out of my head. Whilst work had given me a virtual lobotomy as of late, James had given my libido a kick-start that a Ducati would have been proud of. I now wanted to jump everything that moved, although I somehow managed to keep a lid on the idea. Vanilla sex probably wasn’t going to cut it anymore after our session, and I seriously considered booking another appointment with the man. Neither my pride nor my willpower would allow me to do so, but the daydream stayed alive through the dreary drudge of administrative work that continued to flow my way. Finding myself reliving our afternoon over and over again, it was with a wan smile that I acknowledged Miss Sharkey’s sudden presence in my office.
“Lois.” Her fake smile of greeting sent shards of permafrost through me. In her designer heels, she stood a couple of inches higher than me, but that hadn’t managed to intimidate me as of yet.
Lifting her neck high, her bro
wn eyes bore down, assessing me yet again. She played this game at least five or six times a day, and it was wearing thin. I was not going to break down, nor had I ever broken down, except after my session with James a few weeks ago, and she didn’t need to know about that. I had no idea what she was waiting for, and clearly she wasn’t about to tell me. Short of praying daily that she was struck down by lightning, there wasn’t a lot else I could do if I wanted to keep my job, and I needed to keep my job. Losing that would be unbearable, unless I was forced to join the ranks of admin, and if that was the case, then I’d rather she just shot me now. Even Hari Kari had to be better than enduring this on a daily basis.
Standing up, I gathered the heap of files that I’d been given that morning and reeled them off one by one for her. “I’ve typed up the interview for Randall vs. Lacey, twenty interview questionnaires have been sent out as per your request, the stockroom inventory has been completed, and I’ve found and corrected an error in your spreadsheet for employee pension contributions.” I returned her fake smile with one of my own and shoved the files across my desk to her.
“My, you have been busy this morning,” she said, giving me one of her favourable looks. I did not care for it.
“Not particularly. I twiddled my thumbs for at least an hour, watered all the office plants, and am now experimenting with baking.” There was a definite acerbic quality to my voice.
“Baking?” Miss Sharkey looked perplexed. Score one for me.
“Apparently you can bake a chocolate cake in a cup. Who knew? I intend to have it for my lunch break, to cheer myself up.” I was going to lose my job, but I didn’t care. There had to be someone else in the world who’d want me and my dubious talents.
“We don’t have an oven.” Her frosty demeanour was replaced by confusion, and it was a better look than the pitying glances I’d been treated to as of late.
“It’s a microwave experiment.” Miss Sharkey had a thing about cleanliness. The office kitchen was her personal domain, and there was a rota to ensure that everything was kept squeaky-clean. I was pretty sure that baking a cake would be frowned upon, though it wasn’t expressly forbidden to my knowledge.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are we boring you, Lois?” She folded her arms across her chest and I followed suit.
“Not only are you boring me senseless, you are also driving me mad. Everyone talks in hushed whispers whenever I’m around, and no one takes their eyes off me in case I’m about to rush off and slit my wrists. Well, I have news for you. The only time I’ve come anywhere close to committing suicide is every damn morning when you give me the office filing to complete. I am not cut out for the role of admin. Hell, I can’t even be polite on the telephone anymore.” The poor postman had discovered this fact earlier when he’d buzzed to come into the office a second time, as he’d forgotten an item of post. This required that I walk down five flights of stairs to let him in, again, because we were all being eco-friendly in the office, and trying not to use the lift. I might have used a few swear words to tell him how happy I was to see him.
Miss Sharkey looked flabbergasted for a moment, and there was a long pause that gave me time to plan my latest resume that I would most certainly need very shortly.
“Do you want me to fire you, Lois?” There was no hint of a smile now, and now that we were at the point of no return, I saw no need to dance around the issue.
“Yes. If you plan on giving me any more paperwork, I would like to be fired.” There. I’d gone and said it. I meant it, too.
There was another pause, which gave me time to shuffle my handbag towards me, and then she laughed. It was my turn to look puzzled.
“Finally. Your psychotherapist told me you would let me know when you’re ready, and I guess this is as good an indication as I’ll get. Are you ready to go back to work, Lois?”
“Hell yes,” I replied vehemently. Releasing the death grip I now had on my handbag, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Send me anywhere. I just need to get back to work.”
“Meet me upstairs in the blue room at two thirty. I’ll have your next assignment ready.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, realising my world once again had colour in it.
Miss Sharkey turned around to leave, but tossed her head over her shoulder just before she reached the door.
“Oh, Lois?”
“Yes,” I replied warily.
“If there’s a mark upon my microwave, I will be rescinding my invitation. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” I said, openly grinning for the first time in weeks.
The blue room was actually blue - a nice shade of topaz, in fact. Cellular Operations - our cover name - also had a green room, which was green, and a yellow room, which was hideous and vomit-inducing. Thankfully, blue was my favourite colour.
I’d been twiddling my thumbs for ten minutes or so, because in my line of business you are always early. If you’re punctual, you’re late. This meant I’d had plenty of time to admire the stark décor, which comprised of a sturdy grey table that could comfortably seat ten and a large black TV screen placed prominently on the far wall. There was also an overhead projector, a laptop, and some horribly bright halogen strip lighting. A few grey linoleum tiles completed the ghastly look. Apparently they didn’t want me distracted, not that they had any worries on that score. I was desperate to get back in the ring, and I was happy to do pretty much anything they required of me. It would be nice if the assignment was a challenge, though, because having a shot of adrenaline running through my system might help me get James out of my system once and for all.
“Lois.”
I’d heard her footsteps, so it was no surprise when the door slammed shut behind her.
“Ma’am.”
“Remember that assignment we talked about a few months ago?” She looked at me expectantly. I wanted to roll my eyes. She knew I remembered. My memory was one of the reasons they’d hired me in the first place. Controlling the instinct, I smiled brightly.
“Yes.” It was the one I had been chomping at the bit to complete. Three weeks training in the art of kinky sex, then a leisurely stay in a millionaire’s mansion. That was my kind of assignment. Unfortunately, I’d missed the boat on that one. My psych report had been all over the place and they’d grounded me.
“We gave it to Janice.” She sat down at the head of the table and shuffled her files about. Looking at me from behind lowered lashes, she waited patiently for my response.
“Did she have fun?” I couldn’t help the sour look on my face. Janice and I were not the best of friends, and the fact that she had stolen a prize assignment from under my nose was certainly not the best news I had received today.
“As a matter of fact, she didn’t.” A calculating look ran across her face. “She didn’t manage to last a week, Lois.”
That put a smile on my face. “The millionaire ditched her?” It was wrong to take a huge amount of evil glee in someone else’s downfall, but Janice was a special case. We had history.
“No, she never got that far. She didn’t last a week in training.” Miss Sharkey’s eyes devoured me as I digested that little snippet.
It certainly wiped the smile off my face.
“But Janice is one of the best operatives we have. How is that possible?”
“I have asked myself the same thing, Lois. Apparently some people just aren’t cut out for it, or so I’ve been told, which leads me to the question: would you like to have a shot at it?”
There was a pause as I digested her offer. I didn’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but this was a special case. Having been absolutely destroyed when I’d realised my return to field duty would not be as expedient as I’d hoped, I think I was more upset that I hadn’t got a chance to explore the BDSM lifestyle a bit further. There were a lot of questions floating around my head that I would have loved answers to, and three weeks training would certainly help me out with those. I also wanted to see if James was right. It won’t come easy, but if you have the
right incentives along the way, you’ll do fine.
I didn’t have to think for long. This was just what I needed to put the past behind me.
“Yes.” I folded my arms in my lap and tried to look cool, calm, and confident. I was anything but and couldn’t wait to get started.
Sharkey looked at me long and hard. “Are you sure you’re ready? I do not want to book you in for three weeks training, and have you run screaming like Janice did after just two days.”
That had my attention. “Two days? What the hell did they do to her?”
“Strictly speaking, that would be confidential.”
I nodded, duly chastened. I knew that. “Of course,” I said.
“But that’s the interesting part. She won’t tell me. So I guess there’s no harm in telling you that.” Miss Sharkey grinned. It was a rare occurrence. I guessed her curiosity had been piqued.
“So you want me to go in there and find out, huh?”
“No.” She shook her head, then looked me directly in the eye and compressed her lips. “I want you to go in there, complete the whole damn course, and then ace your assignment.”
Of course she did. So did I, for that matter.
“Well, it seems like we want the same thing. When do I start?”
“I knew I could count on you, Lois. You start Monday. I trust that’s acceptable?”
“Absolutely. Do I still have to come to the office tomorrow?”
“Do you want to?” Miss Sharkey was now trying hard to suppress a grin, damn the woman.
“Is that a trick question?” I really did not want to wake up at five thirty tomorrow morning, if there was any chance of avoiding it.