Tuesday, December 19
Hoover Building
The guard in the parking garage was only one of dozens of FBI employees who were relieved the working day was over. The good man only had to endure AD Verona's wrath when he arrived in the morning...
"Good morning, sir," he greeted the AD.
"If you say so, Emory," Nick growled, a scowl prominent on his face.
... and when the AD left for lunch.
"Have a good one, sir."
"That's yet to be determined," he glared at the friendly guard. Ought to be a law against friendliness, Nick continued to scowl.
... and when the AD returned from lunch.
"Enjoyed your meal, Mr. Verona?"
"Why do you care, Emory?"
"Just being friendly, sir."
"That's against the law at the Hoover, Emory," Nick deadpanned.
... And when the AD left at the end of the day.
"Have a good evening, sir."
"Never happen."
Wednesday, December 20
Hoover Building
When Verona exited the parking garage, Emory the guard simply nodded to him. Nick smirked. On a whim, he stopped off at the mall in Georgetown and selected a few items for Sophie in anticipation of seeing her on Christmas day.
Thursday, December 21
Arlington, Virginia
He left the building a little earlier than usual, trying to beat the heaviest of the traffic. He had driven to Arlington every night this past week hoping Sophie had come home early. So far, she hadn't.
The guard at Sophie's building opened the door for him when he spotted Nick's car. "Good evening, sir. She's not home yet," he announced before Nick could ask.
Damn! "Thanks, I'll check back tomorrow. Call me if she gets back before I get here," he reminded the guard, slipping him another twenty.
"Yes, sir. I'll do that."
1030 PM
Verona Residence
He downed the expensive Scotch in one gulp, just enough to help him relax so he could get some sleep. He wanted more. Hell! I could drink the whole fucking bottle. But he wanted to be able to drive to Arlington in case the guard called. His instructions had been explicit. He was to be called if Sophie showed up, no matter the hour.
The Scotch helped a little but not quite enough to get him to sleep. He tossed and turned, punched the pillows, kicked the covers off and finally, jerked off shouting Sophie's name. "Kitten," he groaned. "I need you."
Friday, December 22
He debated camping out at Sophie's building all day but knew he was acting like an ass. The guard will call me if she shows up. He knows there's another twenty in it for him. He dressed and went to work.
The Hoover Building was practically deserted. The once-a-year Christmas directive from the top had informed employees to take the day off if their paperwork was up to date. Nick's paperwork was never up to date - not that it mattered - he'd take time off if he got that important call from Arlington.
He worked diligently until 11:00 and started pacing again. It's the weekend before Christmas. She'll come back early. I know she will. Nobody works on Christmas. Fuck it. I'm out of here.
He sat in his car in the parking garage for a good ten minutes. I'm an ass. He took his glasses off, polished the clean lenses once again, and laid his head back. I'm a complete ass. He shook his head, admonishing himself for being an idiot, thinking with his cock, picturing her naked, and was suddenly hard as a rock.
I'm a fucking ass. He exited the parking garage, waved to Emory, the guard, and drove to Arlington.
He had to circle the block several times until a space opened and when he finally climbed the steps to Sophie's building, he spotted the Yellow cab pulling away. His heart accelerated.
The guard gave him a slight nod as soon as he entered the building and then rolled his eyes toward the elevator doors that were just closing.
"She's back," Nick stated with satisfaction.
"'Bout a minute and a half ago, sir." He pointed to the luggage and the cartons by the wall. "Just going to take those up with me, now. Could use a hand," he grinned.
Nick grinned back, slipped the man another twenty and followed the luggage cart into the elevator. The two men exchanged smiles as if they were both part of some intricate international conspiracy.
Knocking on Sophie's door, they heard her yell, "It's open. Just leave it all inside the door."
They unloaded the cart and Verona gestured for the guard to leave. He closed the door behind him, leaned against it, and folded his arms over his chest, waiting for Sophie to appear.
It was almost fifteen minutes before Sophie came back into the living room. She had changed into a silky, floor length robe, russet in color, complimenting her hair, and she was barefoot. Both hands were entwined in her hair, shaking the curls out as if she had just pulled hairpins from the tresses. She was startled to see Nick leaning on the door and froze on the spot.
His eyes devoured her. Her dark brown hair was a mass of long, silky curls, the gold flecks brighter than he remembered. He was desperate to run his fingers through it. Her eyes were as beautiful as he remembered and her mouth was as luscious. He licked his lips. He had the greatest urge to grab her and kiss her and never let her go. Her delicious curves were clearly apparent under her silky robe and he could see her nipples were taut. The bulge in his pleated wool pants was suddenly thicker.
Nonchalantly, he opened his trench coat, removed his wire-rims, placing them in his coat pocket and opened his arms in invitation.
Sophie arched a brow, took a step back, slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip and then, surprised them both when she flew into his embrace.
"Sergei," she moaned, pressing against his hard body, returning his frantic kisses.
"Kitten," he murmured, "my sweet tiger kitten."
There was a frenzy of kissing and touching, hugging and squeezing. They couldn't seem to get enough of each other, their hands in constant motion, seeking more. Nick finally shrugged out of his coat and jacket and carried Sophie to the couch where he continued to kiss her. His fingers untied her robe and his hands moved over her, re-mapping her contours, savoring the feel of her satiny flesh, filling his hands and his arms with his tiger kitten.
"I am so hungry for you, Kitten," he murmured softly as his hand found her breast. "I missed you," he whispered, nuzzling her neck, inhaling the scent of her. "I missed you in my bed - I missed your sweetness."
"Why didn't you tell me you were an assistant director, Sergei?" she asked as she unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it from his pants, in a hurry to touch his bare skin.
"I don't know. I'm sorry," he apologized. "There wasn't any reason why you couldn't know." He cupped her face and smiled. "I did like the way you called me an assistant derelict, though."
"You *are* a derelict," she assured him, pulling his T-shirt up and sucking one of his nipples as hard as she could, making him gasp.
"You didn't tell me what you did, either," he groaned when she pinched his other nipple.
"Never going to, either. You probably think I'm a Russian spy or something," she sucked the hollow of his neck and bit him hard.
"Shit! That hurt!" he yelped, pulling her up and then pushing her beneath him, his body holding her immobile.
"Sergei!"
"What?" he groaned as he pushed his cock against her, settling between her labia.
"I should wash your mouth out with soap," she said sternly, glaring at him, making him laugh softly. He loved how the gold flecks in her eyes seemed darker when she was angry - or aroused. He loved how her breasts pressed into his chest and her breathing got ragged. He loved how she stood her ground and defied him and he loved that the scent of her was stronger.
He held both of her hands in one of his while he unzipped his pants with the other. "And I ought to beat your bottom for making me miserable and for leaving me," he told her as he bit her earlobe and then sucked it between his lips. "I ought to beat you for going out of town and for making me worry about you," he breathed in her ear, his deep baritone making her wet. "I ought to beat your bottom for making me sleep alone and for..." He kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, and finally, freed his cock.
She sucked on his tongue and he loosened his hold on her hands, freeing them. Sophie put an arm around his neck pulling him toward her, her other arm snaking between their bodies and pinching the tip of his penis.
"I *am* going to beat your bottom," he promised, raising up on his knees between her thighs.
"If it will help, you can kiss my... um... my..."
"Ass," he chuckled.
"Ass," she whispered. "You can do that instead of beating... ow!"
He pinched her ass, making her yelp as he pushed into her honeyed warmth.
"Ah... Tiger, I have missed you," he exhaled heavily and then pulled out of her and plunged back into her lushness. "I have missed you so much."