Fate will Find a Way
Virgil - The Aeneid
Chapter One – Game Time
Gwen tipped the bottle of Grand Marnier over the valley of her breasts. The liquor splashed over her twin mounds of flesh and trickled down to the hollow of her belly. It pooled with the warm chocolate lake there. Her lover’s tongue lathed her tight abdomen, lapping up the treat before dipping down to tease her clit. He shifted slightly so his nose could play with her erect little nub as his tongue plunged into her, drawing out the strawberries she had planted inside. Slowly his mouth moved back to her belly, drinking up more of the liquored chocolate.
She grabbed his soft hair, gently hauling him up, kissing him, tasting chocolate, oranges, strawberries and herself. As he pushed into her, his belly skating over her sticky stomach, Gwen’s fingers played over the knobs of his spine. “Harder,” she whispered, knowing a gentle urging was all he needed. Her gift, if it could be called that, was electricity. His was his strength. He could pound her in two if he wanted to. She knew he wasn’t showing her his full power, not anywhere close, but he felt like a jackhammer none the less. It was what she loved about him; strength, eagerness to please, brains enough to be good at his job and experimental enough to try whatever she suggested, whether it was Taoist sex or extended orgasms for her. He liked making her happy.
“Give it to me,” he begged, lifting off her as she clamped his waist between her knees. He grabbed the head board which creaked ominously under his strong grip.
“Okay, baby.” Gwen remembered buying him the Kamasutra early on in their relationship and was glad of it. The tenth posture of the perfumed garden that she now found herself in was just one of the benefits.
As his rhythm picked up pace, Gwen trailed her fingers through his brown hair. It stood on end as her power trickled through her fingers. Thanks to the L.I.S.A. device she and Gunn had purloined, she had gained great control over her powers. She rolled her lover’s nipples between her fingers, little blue sparks arcing between her thumbs and into the hardened pink pearls of flesh. His neck arched back as he groaned. She sucked on his Adam’s apple as she ran her hands down his spine, letting light touches of electricity lick his skin. She cupped his buttocks as he came with a shuddering moan.
He rolled on his side, still inside her, pulsing his finger over her clitoris as she ground hard against him. Gwen took her hands off him as her back bowed, waves washing through her. She always feared electrocuting him if she lost control in the middle of an orgasm. Her knees squeezed tight against his lean body as he took her through wave after orgasmic wave. Finally they dropped back on the bed, spent, both of their bellies smeared with chocolate, liquor and sweat.
“That was...,” she panted.
“That’s a word for it.” She ran a hand through his damp hair. “Have I told you lately how lucky I was to find you, Connor?”
He grinned. “Yes, but I like hearing it.”
Gwen had first seen him in a night club helping a girl who was being dragged out of the bar by her abusive boyfriend and his brother. The speed with which he moved, his agility, his strength had captured her imagination, seeing in him the potential to be her partner in crime. She hadn’t ever really thought about having a partner until that night. At the time he had been going to college, competing in gymnastics, an Olympic hopeful then his whole family died when a drunk crossed the double yellow line and hit them head on with his Hummer. Maybe she should feel guilty about picking up the shattered young man and turning him onto a life of crime but she didn’t. And she doubted he had any regrets.
“And you like hearing the words twelve millions dollars.” Gwen’s hand swept out to the painted panel hung on their bedroom wall, opposite where the wall safe hid behind their Magritte painting.
Connor’s blue eyes shifted to the oil painting and its demonic imagery. “Hieronymus Bosch’s Death of a reprobate, wonder if Ms. Nash gets the humor of having us steal that.”
Gwen smiled. “Don’t care, Connor, so long as she pays.” They had boosted it from the private collection it was held in across the country in New York. It was an easy job, not much needed on their part. It was good to mix up high tech and magical thefts with something as mundane as pilfering priceless works of art. “I’m not sure why anyone wants art they can’t show off, but none of my business, I guess.”
“I like it.” He propped himself up on one elbow, letting a finger trail along her side. “It reminds me of my dreams.”
“Because you’re weird.” Gwen scooted away from him, getting out of bed. It had become ritual after a successful job, to find a new sexual game to play. They’d be running out of things to try if they kept as busy as they had been. “It’s what I love about you.”
Connor got up and stripped off the plastic wrap that had been protecting the sheets that would have costed over a grand had she not stolen them from Neiman Marcus. As he dumped the plastic and his condom into the trash, Gwen eyed her wedding band that rested careless on the night stand. She hadn’t had it on since they had been out on a job. Diamonds and platinum wrought to looking like a garland of ivy was too distinctive. She couldn’t risk it being seen and remembered but she slipped it on before heading to the shower. She treasured it. Connor had insisted on actually buying the ring from Cartier. He wasn’t about to have a symbol of his love be stolen. She had been the one to suggest marriage. A husband couldn’t flip on her in the unlikely event they should be jailed. The fact she actually loved him came as a shock as had when he first said no, realizing her intent and refused to sully something that had surprising meaning to him.
He joined her in the shower, the water running brownish with wasted chocolate. This was one of the few places she insisted was off limits to any sex play, too afraid of what would happen if she lost control and overloaded L.I.S.A. Connor respected that but still liked to at least share the space with her.
Wrapping a fluffy robe around her happily sated body, Gwen padded to the computer to check on what jobs had come in while they were in New York. It was risky being contacted this way but she had the best scrubber programs on the computer and ran them daily. Their four Irish Wolfhounds ambled over to see what their masters were doing. Connor loved the enormous beasts. They looked vicious without actually being it. They were impressive and did a decent job of backing up their various alarms and security systems. He had named them after characters in one of his favorite comic books, the girls Rogue, Storm and Jubilee and the male, Gambit.
Connor leaned over Gwen’s shoulder as she scanned the email. “Boring... boring...we’re not assassins, dimwit...boring.”
“Wait,” Connor ordered, patting Rogue’s head as she shoved it under his hand. “Go back one.”
“What? The one about stealing a stone?” Gwen wrinkled her nose at him.
“I know the name, Wolfram and Hart.” Connor tapped the screen. “These guys were the ones my parents took me to when they realized I was different. The head guy was a real jerk, refused to help out. I wouldn’t mind putting the screws to him.”
“The buyer wants us to steal something called the Alatyr from them...says it’s a magical stone.” Gwen looked up at him. “You sure you want to do this.”
“Gwen, they’re offering fifty million dollars for this.” He dropped a kiss on her walnut curls.
Looking at him, she understood the meaning of ‘when Irish Eyes are Smiling.’ She sat back in the chair. “Magic stuff is always risky.”
“I know. I don’t like magic.” Connor made a face. He didn’t like it but he used magic in his home and work as needed. “but for that price, I think we can at least investigate Wolfram and Hart and find out more about what an Alatyr even is then make a choice. We have a little time to play with here.”
Gwen nodded. They didn’t need the work. They had enough money that their great grandkids wouldn’t need to work. It was the thrill they were after. “I’ve had dealings with Wolfram and Hart,” she replied, thinking of the things she had stolen for Lilah Morgan and Lindsey McDonald in the past. “They’re as evil as they come.”
“Really?” He grimaced. “Wonder why my parents took me there then? Well, that’s all the more reason to do it.”
Gwen leaned back, turning her face up. He bent down and kissed her. “You research the stone, I’ll get the specs on Wolfram and Hart.”