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Marc 18: Suburban Spies.

Slade Steele’s amazing story.

As promised in my last post, here’s a sample of Slade Steele’s amazing adventures. The story is too long to post here, so I’ve published the book on Amazon. As always, the story is free to read on Kindle Unlimited.

Suburban Spies

By Marc Stevens

Chapter 1

Slade eased his foot to the brakes of his black, Chevy Traverse. His eyes swept the house ahead. Something’s not right.

He slowed to park at the curb across the street from his home. Darkness shrouded the two-story modern structure. Every window dark…except one — the window of his den.

A shadow skated past the curtains.

Clouds drifted across the full moon casting eerie shadows throughout the suburban landscape. Grand, two-story homes lined the street — monuments to those who had made it to the middle rung of the social ladder.

He checked the security app on his phone. No warnings or alarms, but the system was down. Whoever had broken into his house knew their shit.

He turned off his car and reached for the Sig p229 tucked away in its holster under his suit jacket. The comfortable weight of the pistol in his hand did little to ease his trepidation. He hadn’t needed to pull his handgun once over the past two weeks. The assignment in Mexico had gone smoothly, without incident so he’d been able to get home a few hours earlier than expected.

Just in time to find someone breaking into my house.

He rolled out the passenger side door, keeping the vehicle between him and whoever might be inside his home. In his line of work, he’d learned to take every precaution. If someone was inside, there could be others on watch in his yard. Crouching down, he edged his way toward the back bumper.

The nearest streetlight was out again. Damn kids. But tonight, the gloom would work in his favor.

Ten-thirty p.m. and almost every house around was dark. Not even a late-night jogger or dog walker disturbed the quiet. It was why he’d picked this neighborhood in the first place. Sleepy suburbia. He loved it. No one suspected anything because nothing ever happened here.

An ugly incident that cost him his garage and left three dead KGB agents on the front lawn of his old home had prompted his move to this locality. That kind of thing tended to catch the eye of the neighborhood watch. He’d moved here three years ago and so far, had kept things quiet on the home front.

Damn it! If I have to move again…

He’d gotten to know a few of his neighbors. He finally bought that big gas grill for the back yard. This weekend, he planned to christen it with a couple of huge steaks. It was about time he sent some savory aromas wafting toward Fred Anderson’s yard for a change.

Handgun at the ready, he sprinted across the street toward the hedge his garden service kept pristinely trimmed. Whoever you are, please don’t make me shoot you. The paperwork for discharging a weapon on domestic soil was a freaking nightmare.

The row of boxwoods along the front of the house was planted far enough out to allow him to slip behind. Crouched low, he edged toward his office window, every sense on high alert.

A glance through the window set his heart pumping. Thick blonde curls obscured the face of the woman bending over his desk rifling the paperwork. But he’d know that ass anywhere.

Jennifer.

Visions of her naked and moaning under him in the bedroom of their back alley safe-house in Taipei swept through his head. It had been a week of intrigue and pure bliss. His cock hardened in response.

What the fuck is she doing back in the States?

Holstering his handgun, he crept toward the back door. The security system had been deactivated. Not a big surprise. No security system available would have kept Jennifer out of the house.

Hell, if Fort Knox couldn’t keep her out…

And it hadn’t, although they never had admitted their security had been compromised.

Creeping through the hallways of his home, he made his way toward the one lighted room. Jennifer on her game was hard to surprise, but he wondered how on her game she’d be tonight. She’d be jet-lagged at the very least.

Her back was to him. He smiled and took a casual position leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He spent more time than he should have admiring the view of her backside. Her ass swayed from side to side as she shuffled papers, and when she bent lower to open the bottom drawer of his desk, he went rock hard.

Oh yeah, baby. He loudly cleared his throat, delighting in the way she jerked upright and spun to face him. “I thought you were in France.”

“You’re early.” Her brilliant blue eyes flashed danger.

He chuckled. “You noticed.”

She glanced out the window. “And you parked across the street.” Her gaze swung back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Where are they?”

He’d expected that question. “They’re not here.”

She gave him her DUH! expression. “Where? Are? They?”

His gut warmed. Let the games begin. “Somewhere safe.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts, raising them. The gesture shot an erotic jolt through Slade’s groin. “They’re as much mine as yours. More mine if you think about it.”

He pushed off from the doorframe and took a step toward her. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law. You left them with me.”

“Well,” the sultry, sexy shrug she threw at him shot his libido into overdrive, “I’m back now.”

“Yes, you are.” He raised an eyebrow. “And sooner than expected.”

A smile graced her perfectly kissable lips, though her foot taps betrayed her irritation. The cat-suit she wore molded to her sleek lines. The front zipper pulled down just far enough to expose the cleavage of two perfect sized breasts. Not too large, not too small. Handfuls…mouthfuls…perfect. Hints of pebbled nipples strained the thin, skintight material at her breast peaks.

Her trim, athletic body and exquisitely long legs never ceased to cloud his mind with erotic imagery. God, those legs, wrapped around me as I sink deep inside her. Slade had to lick the edge of his mouth to keep from drooling.

She slunk toward him, all sensuality and sin. “You will tell me where they are before this night is through.”

She was probably right, but maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get something in return that he’d been craving for weeks.

Lilac and honey filled his senses. The fragrance was all Jennifer, and incredibly sexy. He ignored the allure. Raising an eyebrow, he hardened his resolve. “That depends on how persuasive you can be.”

He’d endured waterboarding, bamboo under his fingernails, and the lash of a whip without cracking. But this?

This would be torture.

Her body molded perfectly with his, and he brought his arms around her. Her pouty lips rose toward his and he dove in to accept what she offered. Sweet, sensual…and Chateau Montelena Cabernet Sauvignon.

He broke off the kiss. His brows knit. “You’ve been down to the wine cellar.”

An open wine bottle sat on his desk amidst the scattered papers. “You didn’t even pour it in a glass? Barbarian. Did you at least let it breathe?”

She widened her eyes, looking all innocence, but her impish smile revealed all. “I was thirsty, and it was a long ride from the airport. Look, I’ll share, go get some glasses. I only took a couple sips. I’m sure it’s breathed plenty.”

The idea! “You’ll share my wine with me. How nice.” He headed for the kitchen to get some proper wine glasses. Wine snob she’d called him on several occasions, but there were improper ways to do the same task. Wine needed to be savored properly.

He smiled. Jennifer, on the other hand, he preferred more on the improper side.

She followed behind and he could just picture the little scamp taking yet another swig from the hundred-fifty-dollar bottle of wine. “You have no sense of propriety.”

“And you’re a stuffed shirt. We’ve been over this before.”

And she certainly stretched his limits whenever possible.

He pulled two Baccarat crystal wine glasses from the kitchen cabinet and placed them on the counter. “You can at least do a proper pour, can’t you?”

He backed away, allowing her access to the glasses. As she poured, his gaze swept down to her ass once again, and his cock got all kinds of ideas. What are my chances of getting a piece of that without giving up any information?

The games between them went back years, but somehow never got old or stale.

She turned with a decently poured glass of cabernet sauvignon in each hand and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He reached for one, but she pulled it back. “Where are they?”

Lunging, he snatched the glass from her fingers without spilling a drop. She’d always misjudged how quick he could react. “I told you. Safe.”

The wine offered an amazing aroma when brought to the nose. Hints of black cherry, plum, and vanilla, with a subtle spiciness. Slade breathed it in. A fine wine, like a woman, was to be completely experienced on every level and by all the senses.

Jennifer’s spiciness was anything but subtle. Still, it was extraordinary on all levels. The taste of her lips, the feel of her pebbled nipple on his tongue, and the nectar that pooled at the apex of her thighs offered pure intoxication. Honey and lilac, and the heady essence that was all Jennifer.

His cock pulsed with anticipation as his gaze swept her body once again. Down, boy. We need to take our time. He swirled the glass to aerate the wine, then brought it to his lips. Rich, earthy with exquisite tannins. “Ah.”

The finish was almost Bordelaise. Hints of cranberry, mint, and…

“Shit!” He saw the subtle uptick of Jennifer’s sexy lips. As his eyes crossed and his head spun, he used the last of his strength to place the crystal wine glass on the counter. Even laced with sleep dust from Jennifer’s ring, it was still damn expensive wine. Too expensive to waste.

His last view was Jennifer’s sweet smile, so deceptive, before everything spun to black.

Intrigued? Check out the whole story Here:

Just $2.99 in Kindle ebook format and free to read on Kindle Unlimited.

And for what happens next on my erotic adventure check out:

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Until next time,

Marc

Sexy Spies
Erotic Romance
Sex
Intrigue
Fiction
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