"So I'm lying in bed and wishing I could sleep. I knew they might expect us to wake at any minute. I wanted to rest, but something was bothering me. Talking to myself in my head, I reminded myself that my dad and brother stayed tough through this same BUD/S training. I was following in their footsteps. That's when I realized I didn't give a shit. About being like them or making anyone proud. I refused to spend my life taking orders. I had skills, sure, but those skills didn't have to be put to use in the same way they were for Dad and Kevin. I could find my way, so I fucked up on purpose and got dropped from BUD/S. My dad wanted me to try again, but I was done with the military. As soon as I could get out without going AWOL, I took off and never looked back."
"What then?" she asks in a dreamy voice. Her head rests against my chest as she smiles up at me.
"Are you sleepy?"
"Your heartbeat is making me want a nap," she says without making any effort to move her ear away from my chest.
My gaze takes in the sight of her relaxed against me. Darla's hands rest against my stomach. With her legs curled up and feet hidden under a pillow, she looks ready for a nap. Her eyes are too bright, though. They stare at me as if I'm the sun, and she's been too long in the dark. I catch a smile at the curve of her full lips.
"What did you do after the Navy?" she whispers.
I open my mouth to answer until she takes my left hand and places it on her tit.
"How does one become a contractor?" she whispers again.
My thumb makes little circles against her nipple. The nub of flesh hardens under my touch. I imagine filling my hands with her full tits. Dreaming of touching and tasting all that flesh confuses my brain.
"Troy," Darla says when I remain silent.
"I took a job as a military contractor. Security jobs like I do now, but I was again following orders. A guy approached me about my skill set and thought I'd do well with jobs that were off the books. Liquidation is what he called it. I ended up going solo a year later and stayed that way until Minka kept showing up at the same jobs. We partnered up and worked on our own terms."
"You said you came to Houston because Rafael was starting the company. How did you meet him?"
"Years ago, Minka and I found ourselves snowed in at the Prague airport. Most people had found hotel rooms or were sleeping in the terminal. Minka and I knew better than to let our guards down on foreign soil especially after a job. So we sat in the airport bar, drinking coffee and watching crappy TV for two days. Rafael showed up and made small talk. After awhile, we knew he was like us. There was an unspoken knowledge that we were all contractors, so we played nice until flights were cleared again."
"And you became life long friends afterward?" she asks, squirming as I tug at her nipple.
"We ran into him several times over the next few years. Yeah, we got tight. Not a lot of people understand our type of work."
"I don't really."
"I'm glad. It isn't pretty."
"But you didn't kill anyone nice, right?"
"Nice?" I ask, grinning down at her. "No, nice people don't usually cause another person to pay to have them killed."
"You ever feel bad after a job?" she asks, taking my other hand and kissing the palm.
Hearing the rumble of an approaching thunderstorm, I don't answer right away. Darla glances towards the windows. A moment passes before her expression shifts, and I realize she's scared.
"Is it the noise or were you always scared of thunder?"
"Being up so high makes me worry. I know that's stupid, but I don't understand how storms work."
"Do you want me to tell you?"
"No, I want you to tell me if you ever felt bad after a job?"
"If I do, can we go into the bedroom and fool around?"
"Only if I can keep my clothes on."
"Where's the fun in that?"
Darla gives me a fake frown. "I'll lose my panties, but everything else stays on. Take it or leave it, stud."
Grinning, I sigh. "Can I take off all my clothes? I like when you get handsy and feel me up."
Darla bites her bottom lip as I continue playing with her still hard nipple.
"Tell me and we'll go to the bedroom."
My dick is too hard for me to sit comfortable, so I adjust on the couch. Darla watches me with an unreadable expression. Does she know how crazy she makes my body? Will my hunger scare her? If my story doesn't impress, will she change her mind about the bedroom?
"The only time I felt bad was when I was hired by a woman named Ananta in India. When she was a teen, a man wanted to marry her sister, but their parents felt he was unworthy of the match. Angered by this rejection, the bastard threw acid on both girls. Her sister died from an infection afterward, but Ananta survived and eventually became a successful engineer."
Darla watches me with a horrified expression. I stop playing with her now uninterested nipple.
"She hired me to get revenge, but not on the man who hurt her and killed her sister. It'd been twenty years since the day he attacked them. He was now a sickly homeless man. Hurting him would give her no sense of vengeance. Instead, she wanted me to go after the man who did the same thing to a girl a few weeks before she contacted me."
Darla's lower lip trembles, and I wish I hadn't told her this story. Better to have lied and kept her smiling.
"Did you kill him?"