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deandoesthingstome · 1 year

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Walk with Me - Ch 1

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: The stakeout, some revelations, a takedown of sorts. We're just meeting everyone here, folks.

Chapter Warnings: Drug use, mention of drug trafficking, mention of blow jobs, light dom/sub behavior, past relationship pining, cheating (-ish?)

Word Count: 3.1K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: Usually a song per POV section

Syverson

"He's on the move."

Agent Syverson watched all nine monitors with an intensity felt throughout the surveillance trailer. He had two agents inside the posh Miami nightclub wearing cameras and his tech had hacked into the security feed for views of the bar, near the DJ, and over the entrance to VIP. Through an earpiece, he advised Agent Ramos to shift right while he motioned for Agent Baylen to swap camera views on the top three monitors. Something had caught Syverson's attention and he wanted confirmation before deciding the next moves for his team.

When Ramos had panned far enough onto the dance floor, Syverson called for her to stop and had Baylen zoom in on the screen. Coupled with the cameras from the DJ booth, Syverson had what he needed.

He watched her body move with what seemed like reckless abandon, but if this was who he thought it was, those moves were anything but careless. There was a point and purpose to every swing and wave, every roll of her hips, every toss of her head.

"Sugar?" Syverson wasn't sure how the word slipped out because he was positive he only whispered it to himself in his head. But suddenly, eyes were on him and he felt his ire growing. He did not need this attention or the distraction.

"What was that, sir?" Agent Moore asked.

Did he ignore it? Wave it off? Pretend it never happened? If only one other person had heard it, maybe he could get away with it. But as it stood, all three agents in the trailer were looking at him expectantly.

"Could I get some damn sugar for my damn coffee?" he barked, a little harsher than even he meant it to come out.

"I thought you took your coffee black, sir," Moore spoke.

"Well not tonight, I guess." His stare shut them the rest of the way up and everyone put their focus back on the task at hand, which was all he wanted in the first place.

Now he could watch her in peace.

Her moves told him she was hunting and the poor sap desperate enough to stand next to her was going down. He knew exactly how it would feel, too, because he remembered those nights with her like it was yesterday.

Even so young he had fallen fast and hard. Maybe he was mistaken, but she acted like she couldn’t be without him, too. So he spent any free time he could find between farm chores, football practice, and family responsibilities to hold her close and kiss her as deep as he knew how at the time.

She seduced him right away, but prom was something special and he thought for sure she was the one forever. He never got the chance to tell her how he felt, however, because it had taken him the rest of senior year to figure it out and by then, she was gone, moved away with her family to take care of an ailing relative far enough away that long distance felt like never again.

He called, she wrote, they managed one clandestine meet up on borrowed funds, and then it was his turn to disappear when he enlisted, not knowing what else he wanted to do with his life when sports didn't pan out and farm life lost its appeal.

But he never stopped thinking about her and the way she moved. On the dance floor and later that night in the cool sheets of the bed at the hotel room he sprang for. And now here she was, all these years later, like a cold splash of water to his face.

"Sir?" he heard like a faraway dream in his ear. "Do you want us to take him?"

Suddenly, she wasn't alone. Sure the dance floor was crowded, but until that moment she hadn't been dancing with anyone in particular. When his real mark for the night stepped into view, Agent Syverson almost broke the back of the chair he was leaning on.

August Walker, one of Miami's most notorious drug kingpins, was standing in front of his high school sweetheart and watching her with as much intensity as Syverson was. Only, August Walker could reach out and touch her if he wanted to.

Syverson watched as she danced around Walker, who simply stood stock still on the floor, not giving one single fuck if he was interrupting anyone's flow. And when Walker grasped her arm the next time she moved in front of him, Syverson almost broke.

"Anyone know who this is?"

"It's in the file, sir. This is Francesca Beaumont. We think she's his newest mule."

His throat went dry as Agent Moore finished her statement and he couldn't scramble for the file folder on the table in front of him fast enough. Sure enough, there in the report were the name and the details in black and white. Her photo was stuck behind those of a few other known mules and he cursed himself for missing it. That's not the way he liked to start off when taking the lead on a long running case.

And no wonder the name didn't stick out for him. In school, she went by Frankie. And her last name was Malloy. Had she married somewhere over the years, he wondered to himself.

Fuck.

"Stand down. I know we want this guy, but have any of you actually seen him do anything illegal tonight? Some rule out there about not dancing on a dance floor?"

He watched as cameras panned to follow August Walker who was now leading his Frankie away from the flashing lights of the DJ booth and up the stairs to his secured VIP lounge.

"Someone get me everything we have on her."

August

Francesca wasn’t supposed to be in the club tonight, August knew that for sure. He’d been very clear with her.

In the weeks since he’d activated her, she’d usually taken his direction so well. If she stepped out of line unknowingly, she was always willing to take a note and do whatever he asked of her to change her behavior. She was so pliant. Just like he liked them.

Her first test trip was to Amsterdam. She didn’t question it when he told her had to fly out early, but he’d meet her there. The morning of her flight, he had called to let her know his assistant was dropping off an extra suitcase he needed her to bring. And when she arrived, she didn’t even bat an eye when she discovered he had already left.

At least he assumed she didn’t mind because he didn’t get a scathing voicemail or fuck-off text message and she had apparently followed the directions on the letter left in her suite to a tee. The bag was delivered without a hitch exactly where he’d asked her to drop it and as far as he knew, she’d enjoyed the rest of her weekend, albeit alone. She’d just been so excited to experience a new city, she told him when she got back and he visited her apartment in the very late evening hours, slinking in by the alley entrance and slipping his key in the lock.

That had actually been his first request of her. A key to her apartment, so he could come and go as he pleased. After the few dates he’d taken her on, treating her to lavish meals and luxury car rides, she hadn’t resisted at all. What would he possibly care to take from her place, not the lowliest of studio apartments, but certainly nothing he would normally let himself be caught dead in.

She was something else, though. She had a presence that did not fit her surroundings. She didn’t have the kind of money he did, hell she didn’t even have the kind of money some of his lower employees did, hence her meager living situation. But she glowed with the grace of a celebrity. Someone who deserved so much more than the hand he thought she’d been dealt. If she kept up the good work, he’d reward her. Bring her along in a more official capacity. Give her a larger stipend, move her into a place he wouldn’t mind being seen in. Maybe even replace one of his current regulars with her.

Yeah, he really wanted to replace one of his current regulars with her. If he let himself think too long about it, maybe all of them.

As it stood now, she was on probation with him, whether she knew it or not. The Tokyo trip had also been a success, but she almost blew it for him when she started asking Hideo too many questions over cocktails. Later in the hotel room, he made sure to remind her who was in charge and when she was allowed to speak. She had liked that, too, he could tell.

So her showing up like this just before their trip to Spain in a few days was a surprise. When he caught sight of her, he had Mateo drive Candace home. Candace wouldn’t have known Francesca from a hole in the wall, but since he was going to put his newest carrier in her place once again, he couldn’t have Candace watching.

Once he was sure they were gone, he rose from the plush velvet couch of the roped off VIP lounge area, taking note that the new guy, Will, had stepped into Mateo’s spot without hesitation. It pleased August to know that his employees knew exactly what he wanted and needed, and when.

Usually.

August headed down the steps leading to the dance floor. The music was loud, bordering on obnoxious for him but this is what the club scene called for and here is where he did most of his original business which had led fortuitously to his new business. So he ignored the cacophony and stalked across the floor, not so much pushing the revelers out of his way as willing them to step aside.

When he reached Francesca, he stood still in front of her and let her keep moving in that way that left him no choice but to stiffen. She smirked like she’d won some unspoken competition and twirled again, bouncing to the beat and stepping around him. He didn’t look back, just waited for her to return, because he knew she wasn’t dancing away from him. Not after breaking rank and showing up uninvited like this.

When she finally did appear in front of him again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly into his chest so he could speak directly into her ear. There was no way he was going to shout over the music at her.

“What exactly are you doing here, pet? Get a little lonely?” He pulled back to stare down into her face, pleased to find a small hint of terror. If he couldn’t will his women into submission, what good were they?

He bent again, “Do you want to walk with me somewhere private where you can tell me what this is all about?”

She nodded and he turned to leave the throng, still gripping her arm tightly.

Francesca

I wanted to make sure he hadn't forgotten about me. I knew it was risky, showing up when I'd been specifically warned to stay away until our upcoming trip. But on top of my worry about that trip, I missed him. As much as I hated to admit it.

He awoke such a fire in me. Feelings that had been missing for so long. Lovers had come and gone. But no one ever measured up to my first young lustful love. Not until August.

He made me crazy. Made me second guess everything I knew about myself.

The first night we were together, I was on my hands and knees in front of him faster than I ever thought possible. Most men were careful with me. Handled me with kid gloves, like I would break if the wind blew wrong.

But not August. He'd approached me at this very club, in much the same way he did tonight. Walked straight up to me and waited for an opportunity to speak to me when he was ready, whether I was or not.

I probably would have come right there on the dance floor if he had touched me that night, but he didn't. Not immediately. He just watched me. I could feel his lustful gaze as I circled him on the floor, and I made sure to turn back to him over and over again. Every time I turned away, I'd remember the look I saw in his eyes, and I'd spin right back to him.

He knew, too. Knew the way the hunger in his eyes was affecting me, no matter how hard I tried to resist. I didn't want him thinking he had the kind of control over me I imagined giving him, even from that very first night.

When I finally let myself dance for him and him alone, I saw the self-assured smirk of a man who knew who his conquest was for the night and I closed my eyes like that would keep him from knowing every thought that crept in.

I wanted him, and he was going to have me.

He didn't even touch me as he led me off the dance floor that first night. I followed him gladly, excitement buzzing through me, electrifying my core. He only turned back once to make sure I was following him to his personal lounge on the upper level of the club.

I didn't care if every person in that club knew I was about to get fucked by August Walker.

I was proud of it. There were plenty of girls vying for his attention that night, and I needed to make sure I was who he wanted. But no matter how much I wanted him to take me then and there, he kept me on a hook.

Oh, I tasted him that night for sure. Felt his lips against mine and his tongue as it slipped inside my mouth after he showed me the tip. He was gentleman enough to get permission before he put the ecstasy tab in, so I can't even claim coercion of any sort. I can't claim disappointment either, though I thought he'd let me feel his cock in my pussy that night.

Instead, he kissed me until my head spun, and then he watched me drop to my knees before him. I could see from the bulge in his pants, he was hard, and because I still had yet to figure out the game he was playing that night, I thought pulling his zipper down and releasing his engorged cock was just a preamble to the main event.

But for that night, August only wanted to fuck my mouth and I let him.

The filthy words he called down to me while I slathered my saliva all over his dick only made me wetter, and my mouth watered for him, too. He knew the effect he was having on me, coupled with the drug that coursed through my veins, and I loved every second of it. How could I not?

I worshiped his cock for what felt like hours. Licking up and down his shaft, circling my mouth around his head, stroking his base with my hand and jerking him off into my mouth.

Every time he wove his fingers into my hair, I willed him to pull, begged him through the tears in my eyes to hold me fast and move my head however he wanted to. I almost cried when he let go, but as soon as he was done spooning the coke into each of his nostrils from the tiny vial on the chain around his neck, he put both of his hands right back on my head and pumped his cock deep down my throat, coming with a roar that told me I'd satisfied something he'd been missing for a while. I smiled internally with that knowledge.

The next few weeks had been a whirlwind of seduction, and I was having a hard time differentiating just who was doing the seducing. When he invited me to Amsterdam, I was so excited. I imagined what fucking him in a foreign country would feel like.

But it was like he knew just how to keep me hanging on, giving me just enough of a taste of him before the trip to keep me wanting more. He completely avoided me for the entire trip. Sent word the day before our scheduled departure that he had to leave early and then put me in charge of that extra suitcase. When I arrived, our hotel suite was empty, with not one piece of his belongings left behind for me to hold on to. I never even saw him there. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

I kept my wits about me, though. Kept my disappointment to myself. I wasn't about to let him know how much I had ached for him for those days I was alone. And I'd been away from him often enough here in the States. But there was something about missing the opportunity to have his cock deep inside me while watching the light of a sunset in a different sky that had me questioning just how deep I was with this man.

I made sure to keep him close in Tokyo. And there was no way I was giving up an opportunity to fuck August in Japan. I may have offended his business partner, but I really didn't care. I wanted that dinner meeting over and done so I could pour myself over him and take his mind off the women who were serving us.

I knew Hideo had chosen those girls for particular reasons, and I wasn't about to sit idly by and let them whisper and giggle and tease and taunt his attention away from me. They weren't the kind of woman August truly desired anyway; they were mousy and timid, even with their advances.

I knew he was angry with the way I comported myself in front of his associates, but it didn't stop him from letting us both work out our frustrations on one another for the rest of the trip.

So when he told me to stay away for a few days this time, I knew something was up and I was right. I knew her name was Candace, but I still didn't know much about her other than I was worried he was about to hand my seat to Spain over to her, and I couldn't let that happen.

Taglists

And so here I was, being led by a firm grip on a walk to his private office. Exactly where I wanted to be.

Chapter 2

Everything Henry: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @feelmyroarrrr @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @dedicated-to-a-brit-and-a-scot @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @lizzystuffsthings

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#henry cavill #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #syverson #syverson au #august walker #august walker au #syverson fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #captain syverson #walk with me #mine #deandoesthingstome

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deandoesthingstome · 10 months

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Walk with Me - Ch 6

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: Dinner with Francesca and August; plans are revealed.

Chapter Warnings: Light dom/sub behavior, drinking, oral sex (m receiving), implied unprotected p in v sex, fingering, anal sex, implied torture.

Word Count: 3.6K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: The last three songs (16-18) now belong to this chapter.

Francesca

I knew August was looking for information. He was more agitated than usual and it was apparent he had an idea now that someone had infiltrated his organization. He began to call on me at the most inopportune moments, and I couldn’t tell if he was hoping or not to catch me in a lie. I did hear him trying desperately to convince Mateo his misgivings about me were wrong. I needed to put a stop to any hint of Sy sniffing around, if only to help prove Matteo wrong. August asked about the FBI when we had dinner at his home one evening.

“I’m glad you were able to get free tonight for me, Francesca.”

“August, you know I always come when you call. I’ve had to shuffle a few things around at the gym lately, and they’re starting to get annoyed, but I guess I can always find another studio if I have to.” I took a sip of the wine August had chosen to pair with our meal, tipping my tongue out to catch a small drop of red, drawing his eyes to my lips.

“You know I don’t mean to cause any hardship for you. I wouldn't want to take you away from anywhere else you’d rather be.”

“Now, where else would I rather be, baby, besides right here with you when you want me?”

“Heard from that old ex of yours lately?” August asked, keeping an even voice and betraying with a raised eyebrow only a small hint of the jealousy that I could sense was bubbling beneath the surface.

“Is that where you think I’d rather be? August, you wound me.”

“Francesca. Have you seen him again since he first contacted you?” It was clear August suspected, but I didn’t think he really knew anything. Not now that he’d discovered the guard he had on me had been less than observant on probably more than one occasion. I gave him an answer that I could tell shocked him.

“Yes.”

August waited for me to elaborate and I continued almost immediately with barely a hesitation.

“He came by the gym one day. My class was canceled and I was on my way out. He invited me to dinner.” I paused then, and gauged his reaction. I wondered if he could feel me doing so. “I declined, if you care to know.”

“There’s no need to be a brat about it. What night was this?” he asked me.

“It was a day, August. Middle of the day.” When I told him what day it was, he clenched his jaw. “You can call the gym, check the logs. He showed up, worked out, chatted me up, and then I left before him.”

“Alright, but was there a night you didn’t spend at home?”

“Why do you think I spent any night away from the apartment?”

“Maybe you should just answer my questions without any more sass. Or are you looking for something tonight?”

I stared defiantly back at him, because I was. I could see him getting turned on and imagined his dick was probably already hard. It shouldn’t turn him on to have me so disagreeable, but it did. He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and waited for my answer. I think it hurt his feelings that I simply carried on with my explanation rather than admitting what I wanted from him.

“The electricity went out in my building one night. I called a friend to see if I could stay over. It was incredibly hot that day and I was never going to be able to sleep without AC. She picked me up and it wasn’t until I got back the next morning that I realized I’d forgotten my phone.”

And then I picked right back up with my insolence.

“But I noticed there were no missed calls or messages from you anyway.” I took another drink, with a devilish smirk on my lips.

“Get up,” he growled at me.

“But I’m not done eating, August.”

“You are. Get up. Now.” August watched as I shoved my chair back and stood. “Now if you want something else to fill that bratty little mouth of yours, why don’t you crawl on over here?”

I saw the pleasure on his face as I sank to my knees before placing my hands on the plush rug beneath the dining table and slowly made my way to him, eyes connected to him the entire time. He turned his seat to face me.

“I am still hungry,” I purred when I reached his lap. “What else did you put on the menu tonight?”

August leaned back in his chair and spread his legs wide as he rested one arm on the table beside him and smoothed the other down his inner thigh.

“Is this one of those meals I have to prepare myself?” I dared to tease and I could see through his pants the way August got even harder as I continued to dish out the attitude.

“It’s practically ready now. You just have to take it out.”

I reached up to unzip his trousers then slipped a hand through the opening of his silk boxer shorts and licked my lips at the sight.

“I have to warn you, I’m particularly ravenous tonight,” I smiled up at him as he drew his hand to my head and pulled me closer.

“It’s a good thing this is all for you then.”

August pulled my head down and closed his eyes as he struggled not to thrust his hips when my mouth wrapped around him. He simply guided me lower and when I opened for him, the look on his face betrayed the way he relished the feel of the back of my throat and the way I gagged while trying to swallow my saliva around his dick. I looked up at him and he opened his eyes to watch the tears of pleasure spill down my face. I never shied away from choking on his dick and I held my own as he began to bob my head in earnest. I kept my mouth wide open when he finally drew me away from his lap just before he grabbed a hold of his own cock to finish himself. He loved watching his seed drip down my face. I knew it made it so much easier for him to get hard again, especially when I swiped my fingers through his spend and wrapped my lips around them to suck them clean.

In the post orgasmic haze after he’d taken me to bed and defiled me a few more ways, he sat up to ask me a question and I noticed he watched my reaction carefully.

“We’re going on another trip, you and I. We’ll return separately this time. I have something I need to bring into the country and I want you to carry it for me. Will you do that for me?”

With some hesitancy, I agreed. I hoped August would take it as a sign that Matteo was nothing but wrong about me. I needed him to feel I was truly and deeply his and that I was only just now beginning to understand that the club wasn’t his only business.

I was late to the rendezvous back in the States, but I did arrive with all the cargo still intact. After apologizing profusely, I stayed quiet and demure, presenting an obvious change from my behavior at previous meetings when he didn’t think I had a clue what business was going down. Now I remained meek and a little wide-eyed as I watched him complete his business transaction, trading a portion of the drugs for a few large duffles of cash.

Later in bed, I broached an earlier subject with what was obviously surprising new information for him.

“August, I have to tell you something,” I said, drawing circles over his chest with my fingertips.

“What is it, love?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Worried how?”

“Is what we did this time what you do all the time? Is that what taking care of business is for you?”

“Are you having a hard time calling it what it is, Francesca? Did you think I only bought the drugs you and I used together?”

I sat up to face him. “I always wondered, but I didn’t know until now. And it worries me. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“What trouble would I get into? Are you worried about your FBI friend?”

“August, he’s not my friend anymore. Please you have to believe me. But it does worry me. You said there was nothing to worry about, that he had nothing on you. But we’ve just moved a shit ton of illegal drugs into the country. That doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

“Everything is under control, Francesca. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I have plans to get out of that business.”

“Sooner or later?”

“What is with all these questions?”

“It’s just…okay, look. Please don’t be mad. I don’t want you to think I’ve been taking advantage of you. This really did just happen.”

August sat up now himself, as if he was suddenly concerned about the direction this conversation was headed.

“What really just happened, Francesca?”

“It’s honestly perfect timing. It means we could leave here now, leave everything behind and never look back. I have a house now, in Europe, that no one knows about. And enough in a trust fund to keep us set for the rest of our lives together.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” August was becoming agitated. This was new information and I could tell it concerned him that he didn’t know it was a possibility that I wasn’t the down-on-her-luck struggling yoga instructor he thought I was. He must be wondering who had dropped the ball on my background search.

“August, I love you. I don’t want to see you get into trouble. I want us to be together and I don’t think it’s safe here for you any longer. Give the club to someone else and walk away with me.”

August

August was now convinced Francesca wasn’t a threat to him, and he wanted the same to be true for the rest of his team, but someone was talking out of school and he needed to find out who. August and Mateo conferred in quiet corners and behind closed doors. Assignments were given to test loyalties, background checks run again to see if any conflicting information would appear.

Mateo was still not convinced about Francesca, especially knowing she had connections no one uncovered before and he told August it was for the best that he didn’t loosen her security detail. August continued to put her off, every time she brought up getting out of the business and hoped he could eventually convince her to let that go. A second home in Europe would be most welcome, but he was never gonna give up his life and run away.

A couple weeks later, after even more new information had turned up, August finally had what he needed. He knew who was spying and he knew how he wanted to take care of it. No one would ever expect they’d be taken to Paris to be exposed and taught the ultimate lesson.

He had Francesca packed and ready to go when security arrived to drive them to the airport. It was a quiet flight, even if August did give in let her suck him off in the first class cabin. He really did have such a hard time denying her when she got down on her knees for him. The pout on her face when he wouldn’t let her climb onto his lap might have broken a weaker man.

When they arrived at the hotel, he watched Francesca unpack as he always did. He loved to watch the surprise on her face each time she pulled a new item from the bag and she was always eager to put his choices on display for him. His impeccable taste never failed him; every last article of clothing and accessories complimented her body in a way he imagined she had never felt before. It was as if the act of choosing her attire was the first stage of foreplay August used when he made love to her. If his fingers couldn’t caress her, the fabric and material would, molding to her body and holding her firm.

He spent the afternoon ravishing Francesca in bed, chasing every high he could get as if it might be the last. He tasted every inch of her body, nipping and tonguing along the curves and lines, dipping into the valleys. He held her down, wrists above her head, strong legs spreading her wide while he worked his fingers deep into her, stretching and stroking and smoothing and coaxing early waves of pleasure from her.

August swallowed her gasps of pleasure and howls for more, his lips crushing hers while his tongue slid in deep beside hers. He flipped her over and hauled her ass into the air, kneading and squeezing and groping as he bent low and pressed his tongue along her slit, tasting all the slick she’d made just for him.

He knew it was for him by the way she cried his name, begged him to relieve her, and pleaded for a final release. She was a mess and he still wasn’t done. With his cock deep in her drenched pussy, he popped his thumb in his mouth and licked some saliva on it so when he pressed it against her tight pucker it slipped in with ease. Francesca backed right into it with no hesitation and he knew he’d be able to get all the way in again tonight. She was absolutely ready and wanting that.

He took some time lubing and loosening her up. He had three fingers in with his cock still pumping and she wasn’t showing any signs of wanting him to stop. When August finally pushed the tip in, he could feel the way she drew him in. God, how she wanted to be fucked in the ass.

He did that for her, or so he told himself. He couldn’t quite admit that even if she hadn’t wanted it tonight, he may have taken her this way sooner or later. It was what gave him the ultimate orgasm and it was only a bonus that she loved it, too. August thought about how it might have been fun to add a man to their bed so she could choke on a dick while getting railed from behind, in either hole.

Once they were cleaned up and dressed, August ushered Francesca down to the hotel lobby to meet Mateo for the drive to the club.

“August, baby. This isn’t the way to the club,” Francesca commented, glancing out the window.

“And how would you know the way to the club, darling? We’ve never been here together before.” He watched her closely, scanned her face and body for any twitch, any shiver, any tell. As always, he found nothing.

“The GPS says,” she answered, pulling her hand up from beside her and showing him the mapping app that was clearly flashing to recalculate a route. “I always love to see directions. It helps me get used to the city. God, I hope we come back here someday. I always wanted to see Paris. Now that we’re here, I never want to leave.”

Francesca turned back to peer out the window again and August watched her marvel at the lights and buildings around them. For all her sharp edges, August always found the wonder in her eyes endearing. Though he did find it odd when he realized she had most likely spent time in Europe, though she acted as if everything was brand new each time. When they pulled up to the warehouse, he restrained a small smirk when she commented that it didn’t look like the kind of club that suited her dress.

That was her way of saying the spot looked haggard and run down and maybe a little beneath them. And of course it was. It was a warehouse. It was most definitely not a club.

August let her enter first, door held like a gentleman before he turned the handle over to Mateo and entered himself. He didn’t bother hiding the lick of his lips as he watched her ass in the tight dress strut forward in front of him. He could tell she was still horny from the afternoon.

August caught her as she stumbled back into him, seemingly to escape the sight in front of her.

“August, what is this?” He could hear her voice break when she asked the question.

“What does it look like darling?” he answered. Something in her answer would hopefully convince Mateo he had been wrong when he pointed a finger at her. August felt differently, partly due to his previous conversations with her and partly due to the very little actual evidence Mateo presented to make his case. August countered with the more obvious details that pointed to the man in the chair.

“August, you said I had nothing to worry about with you. You said…” she leaned into him, and August thought he detected at least a hint of terror. It would be the first time she’d broken like this before him, though he was sure she barely knew this man sitting before her, beaten unconscious. Will Shaw had hardly ever been around when she was. Maybe a few nights at the club, but always on the periphery. She didn’t know him, she could only see the state he was in, probably barely hanging on. Of course she’d flinch. This wasn’t the first time he was showing her his hand, but it was a doozy.

“August, please. Did you know what was happening here? You have to help him. You can’t let him die. If you help him, that’ll count for something,” Frankie pleaded with him. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt people.”

“Francesca, you’re a very smart and resourceful woman. I’ve grown extremely fond of you. I want you with me, but you do need to know there is a dark side you haven’t seen yet. Sometimes, people work against me. Sometimes, they are looking out for themselves, trying to take from me more than they deserve. Sometimes, they have a sinister motive. Maybe they want to take my business, run me out of the game.” August walked Francesca cautiously towards Will, keeping a firm grip on her arms. “And sometimes, they want to hurt me. Sometimes they think they have the right to keep me from the work I was destined to do and they try to get me in trouble. Will here was trying to get me into trouble.”

August spun Francesca to face him, searching her eyes for understanding.

“Francesca, do you think it’s right for someone to pretend to be someone they aren’t? And then to use that subterfuge to ingratiate themselves into my life so they could try to find unflattering details about my work?”

August watched Francesca blink and saw her pupils dilate. The way her iris had let the black overtake it told him what he needed to know: she was scared. It was good enough for him.

“Nnn..no, August,” she stammered. “But he’s really hurt. Lemme help him.”

August wasn’t prepared for the way she twisted from his grip, so she was on her knees next to Will before he had a chance to take hold of her again. He watched her touch him tentatively, perhaps checking for a pulse as she pushed his watch out of the way and set her fingers on his wrist. She set a hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head back as she pulled his eyelids gently open to check for any reaction. The way her shoulders relaxed told August Will was still alive.

“Anything you think you can do for him? It’s of no use. Francesca, this is something you need to get comfortable with. I will not allow someone to hurt me. Do you understand?”

Syverson

Frankie had been out of pocket and unreachable for weeks now. Syverson knew every move she made, along with August Walker, but the fact that she wouldn’t answer his calls or texts, even on the burner phone number he’d been given made him nervous. Or perhaps frustrated was a better word for it.

He continued to liaise with Director Marshall, usually through Ramos, and continued stacking evidence against Walker even though there was nothing he could do about it for now. His superiors weren’t happy about the fact that another agency was blocking his case, but pressure from even higher up forced them to accept the stalled state of the investigation.

He spent days in surveillance locations and nights thinking about Frankie in his bed. He had to keep reliving those moments to fend off the visuals of her and August together. What he wouldn’t give to have her next to him again, begging for his touch.

He had signed off on the joint agency paperwork that would allow Frankie back into the country with the dope August was peddling, but he hated how much deeper she was getting with August. She was now openly transporting for him which meant August was placing his trust in her even more than before.

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He also wanted to trust she knew what she was doing, but he feared for her safety, no matter how good of an agent she was. Victoria continued to assure him that Walter had everything under control, but he only wanted to hear it from Frankie’s mouth directly. Apparently, until the CIA was done with their case, that was never gonna happen.

Chapter 7

Everything Henry: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @thesaucynomad @just-chirpin @henryownsme

Walk with Me only (I added you if you reblogged or asked and Tumblr would let me): @kingliam2019 @valacircareads @sofiebstar @cardierreh15 @firstcashheroathlete @ylva-syverson @sunriserose1023 @cavilladdict @angreav @ellethespaceunicorn @mis-lil-red @peaches1958 @xhoneyxbeex @livisss @hangmanscoming

#henry cavill #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #syverson fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #syverson au #august walker au #syverson #august walker #walk with me #mine #deandoesthingstome

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deandoesthingstome · 9 months

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Walk with Me - Ch 7

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: This is it. The warehouse and beyond. The end.

Chapter Warnings: I’ll be real honest, I don’t really want to give anything away here. There’s gonna be some more sex if that interests you. (It’ll be outdoors. What?)

Word Count: 5K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: If you’ve followed the playlist, you should know what’s new.

A/N: Super grateful shoutout to @dadralt for helping me with a few French translations. I put the English at the bottom.

A/N 2: I really really appreciate everyone who has read and commented/reblogged this story. I had ideas when I started and those took on a life of their own. I got stuck a little on the way, but I think I figured it out and I hope you like the wrap up.

Francesca

It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. While August was busy looking into his associates to root out a mole, I had made myself available for anything, anytime, no questions asked when he got back from Asia. That also meant ignoring Sy and making sure any information he received came through the agency and the agency only. One incredible night in the arms of the man I had once thought would be the only one I’d ever love. That’s all the sanity I had to hold onto.

As I found myself continuing to slip deeper under August’s spell, I also relished the memory of Sy’s arms wrapped around me, holding me close and safe. On my own, I was reckless and wanton. I’m sure it’s what drew Sy, and most men to me originally. But while most men gave up trying to handle the edge after a while, Sy had always somehow found a way to smooth it out. And that edge only grew sharper the longer I was away from him. It drove men crazy when they couldn’t hold on, most opting to let go rather than risk the deep cuts.

Walter had understood what it took to dull the blade, because he needed a soother too. So while he came to understand he couldn’t offer me respite in his arms, he was there to try to ease every ache I came away with after losing out on love time and again. I envied him for the way he had been able to take each ending as a sign for a new beginning and hold on waiting for what he really needed. I think he could see the damage each heartbreak was doing to me, could tell that the longer I went without a net, the easier it was to embrace fire and danger with no regard for myself. But I don’t think he realized how deep down that hole I was falling. He thought it was just part of the game we played. Instead, this is how I let August in against all my better judgements.

August didn’t fear my sharp edge. He honed it. And until Sy reappeared, I struggled to make sense of why it felt so good to have August keep pushing me, why every time I saw him it felt like I was being forged in his fire. In the haze of the smoke we created together, fueled by drugs and sex and more passion than I’d known in ages, I let myself begin to believe there was a way through that didn’t involve putting him behind bars. Like a fool, I continued to gently broach the subject of just leaving everything behind. I no longer knew if it was still the smokescreen I meant it to be.

I kept Walter appraised, but there had been no new developments from what I had seen. No new security breaches initiated by any number of August’s club girls. No more state secrets passing his way. August apparently had everything he thought he needed to make his next move and he was just looking for the right time. I simply had to wait until Will had the data stripped off the club’s computers and was ready to hand it off. I had been unsuccessful in my previous searches, but Will was a masterful hacker. I just needed the call, but it never came and walking into the warehouse I knew why.

August had figured out Will was CIA. And now I had to hope Will had been able to keep our secret even after everything it was apparent August’s goons had done to him. I couldn’t tell for sure how long he’d been here, but some of the wounds were fresh enough to tell me that while August had been fucking my brains out this afternoon, Will was getting the shit beat out of him. And I hoped his training was just as good as mine and he’d been able to withstand the obvious torture I could see he’d been put through. This was never how this mission was supposed to go.

While August continued to share his credo about not letting anyone hurt him, I rubbed my thumb over the microchip I had pressed against my forefinger. I knew I had what we needed and there was no reason to keep playing this game that had stopped feeling like a game weeks ago. I wanted to rise to my feet, lean in close and whisper to August that we could still run. That I could hide him and maybe we’d be apart for a little while, but in the end I’d be his and he’d be mine and we would be together.

And then I heard the words coming out of his mouth and I knew suddenly how utterly fucked I was. I was about to ruin what was probably the biggest bust of Sy’s life and I was about to end August’s reign. Sy would never forgive me for lying to him and August wouldn’t be around to put me in my place. I’d end up with neither of them.

Like a specter, the voice drifted through my thoughts.

“We’re in position.”

“Take him.” I fought to keep my eyes open. I would not turn away from this mess I had made.

August had barely stopped speaking, head at tilt and eyebrow raised in query at my words when the bullet hit. I watched him fall and barely registered the second round that took Mateo out. I couldn’t really stop the tears if I wanted to. Everything was in shambles around me. Not only was my partner hanging on by a thread, the man I had come to love in some sort of fucked up fantasy where I believed I could save him was dead.

And I had to somehow explain to Sy why I had let him believe he was ever going to have a shot at taking down August.

I heard sirens and shouts from outside the warehouse. Flashing lights flickered through the doorway each time a new body entered the space. Medics were on the scene and Will was getting the attention he needed when Walter found me sunk to the ground on my knees, resisting the urge to crawl to August and take him in my arms one last time. Doubt crept in, as if I’d made the wrong choice and it took everything I had not to let the bile rise up in my throat.

Walter wrapped an official jacket around me and asked if I was alright. I shook my head slowly and I felt him hold me closer. He knew what was coming. I don’t know how he knew. He never once asked if I was falling for August, but somehow he could tell and he knew what I had just done. He knew I would be in my head about this one for a good long time. Longer than any of the others.

“We just need to finalize the report and record your statement. We can do a video now and then you can go. Okay?”

I felt his concerned gaze on me and mustered the strength to nod at his question, still amazed how he looked after me after all these years. We were never going to be together, but that didn’t stop us from caring about and wanting only the best for each other.

We set up in a corner of the warehouse, away from the noise of the agents processing the scene. Before he turned the camera on, I dislodged the molar mic I had installed before leaving the hotel earlier and handed it over. I had already sent in encrypted typed reports and the final video interview was just a recount of the last few days that I hadn’t been able to upload yet. I signed every affidavit he put in front of me, half numb with shock. He put me in the cab to the train station with a gentle press of his hand on the small of my back as he bent to whisper in my ear.

“I’ll get him a message along with the rest of the Miami files. He won’t be hung out to dry. He’ll have everything he needs to make the case against the rest of August’s associates. And he’ll know you're on your way to being okay, too.”

When I looked up at him, I could tell he saw my gratitude, even if I didn’t yet know how to voice it. Even if I still doubted every decision I’d made so far.

“Will?” I managed to whisper.

“Will’s gonna be fine. He has more than a little R&R coming, too. Don’t worry.”

We said a final goodbye and I headed off, ready to try to put this all behind me, starting with a deep detox. I spent weeks in the remote cabin, fully stocked with everything I needed to avoid everyone for as long as I wanted, including a method of emergency contact if things got really bad.

I rocked myself to sleep every night only to enter dreams that turned to nightmares. August leading me down a floral path, only to turn a corner and find myself ensnared in briars and brambles. August preparing a delicious meal only to serve me Will’s head on a platter. August making me come, over and over again, only to find myself ripped apart at the seams.

I dragged myself out of bed every morning, no matter how badly I wanted to curl up in the sheets and just die. I journaled every day and raged at the papers that held my lovelorn tears, my foolish fantasies and ridiculous notions. At night, I burned them in a fire meant to keep me warm, but every bit of me felt cold and lifeless. I took long swims in the crystalline lake and long walks in the woods and prayed that maybe I’d twist an ankle and fall down the mountainside. I longed to be lost and rid of the torture I felt forever.

I could tell my storm was easing when I awoke one morning with the recollection of August morphing into Sy. When the drugs were finally fully out of my system, I sat quietly by the placid water and put all my pieces back in place. August Walker was a drug kingpin who had put an insane amount of product on the street. August Walker was a murderer, who had put his competition out of business permanently. August Walker was a traitor who had bribed politicians and military brass for national secrets that he planned to sell to the highest bidder. August Walker was a monster.

No amount of fucking was ever going to change those facts.

I pushed the button on the SAT phone and waited for Walter to answer while I practiced the speech over and over in my head.

Syverson

Syverson turned off the ignition of the rental car, peered at the number on the house and checked it against the message from Ramos on his phone. He stepped out and made his way up the narrow path to the front door, gravel crunching under his feet. He stood still at the door and paused before knocking, suddenly unsure if he’d made the right decision.

“Ah, fuck it,” he muttered and raised his hand to rap on the wood. In the moments of stillness as he waited for a sound from inside, a shuffle of feet, any tell-tale sign that someone would answer, he took several deep breaths and tried to calm his nerves. It would be the first time seeing her again after months with no communication and he hadn’t exactly been invited by the occupants of the house.

“Comment puis-je vous aider?*” the elderly man asked, peering out the entryway with a perplexed look as if trying to recall who might be scheduled to visit today.

“Mr. Malloy? It’s Dean Syverson, from the States. I’m sorry I don’t speak French. I’m friends with your daughter, Frankie, er Francesca. I was told she was here.”

“Papa, c'est qui?**” a voice called from down the hall and Syverson’s heart almost exploded with elation. He took note of the waver in her voice as she appeared next to her father looking radiant in her summer dress and spoke again. “Sy? What are you…?”

Sy wanted her to burst through the door and wrap her whole body around him so he could slip his arms around her back and hold her close to breath her in. In reality, she froze in place next to her father, though he didn’t imagine the way he saw her stop herself from reaching for him. At the sound of throat clearing, Frankie turned to her father to speak.

“Papa, tu te rappelles de Dean ? Du lycée. À l'époque on l'appelait Sy.***”

Sy watched as the old man seemed to light up with memory and a small smile, then listened to a conversation between father and daughter that he couldn’t understand. Frankie’s father reached out to shake his hand with a wink, then turned to head back into the front room.

“Wanna take a walk with me?” Frankie asked, motioning down the path. “Or I could invite you in and we could do the pleasantries of small talk over cold lemonade and cookies I baked the other day?”

“You bake?” Sy asked with a chuckle.

“Been goin’ through all of Mom’s old recipes. It’s therapeutic in more ways than one. And sorry about that. Dad’s kinda given up on English, especially now that she’s passed,” Frankie answered and watched Sy’s face fall a little, eyebrows furrowed and head atilt.

“Well now I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t know about your Mom.”

“Thank you. It happened just before my last mission. I hated leaving but I promised him we’d spend time together once I was done with work.” She gave a quick glance back into the house.

Sy heaved a breath in and out. “Let’s walk.”

He waited for Frankie to close the front door and let her lead the way as they stepped back onto the gravel path and followed it around to the back of the house and down into the large, lush garden where she motioned to a stone bench facing a pond.

“I feel like I know this answer, because I doubt you’d be here if you did, but I have to ask: Do you hate me?” Frankie asked, turning to him with a look of concern on her face.

“Sugar I could never hate you,” Sy answered immediately without any hesitation. “Couldn’t for the life of me figure out why you shut off all communication and never came back, though. Marshall wasn’t exactly forthcoming either.”

“Did they at least tell you about...? About the case?” Frankie asked, unwilling to voice the name just yet.

“You mean the part where no one was ever gonna let him take the stand?” Frankie nodded at Sy’s question. “Yeah. Said if he had an opportunity to implicate any of the people he’d bribed information from, national security was fucked. Sure. Apparently, all those other traitors had guardian angels sitting on their shoulders. The number of retirement announcements from the military and congress was staggering. Is that why you didn’t come back?”

“Are you asking if it made me sick to my stomach? That August Walker took the fall for all of them? I guess that’s part of it for sure, yeah.”

“Fuck, Sugar. You really were in deep with him.”

“I was blind, Sy. I wasn’t not doing my job but I let a lot of things get in the way of reality and when I found out they were all getting off the hook I couldn’t stomach it anymore.”

Frankie turned to stare out over the water while Sy took a moment to ponder her words and consider if he really wanted the answer to his next question. It could make all the difference to the end result of his impromptu visit. But if he didn’t ask, he’d never know and if somehow things worked out between them, the possibility would hang over his head forever.

“Did you love him?”

He watched her slow-blink her eyes closed, inhale and let out a deep sigh. He felt the bottom begin to drop from underneath him, afraid now of her answer and what it would mean. He wanted to reach out and grab the words back, stuff them down his throat and never let them out again. He swore to whatever god would listen that if she would just come home with him when this conversation was over, he’d never give August Walker another thought. When she spoke, he almost couldn’t hear her answer, the way the blood from his beating heart rushed passed his ears.

“Not really.” Frankie turned back to Sy and opened her eyes. As her voice trickled through the dense fog of his worry, he could at least see the promise in what she was saying. “For a while I thought I did. It took me time to figure out that I just loved the way he made me feel. Alive and reckless with no one to answer to but someone who only loved me for the person they thought I was.”

“And who are you, Frankie?”

“I’m figuring that out now, Sy. That’s the other part of why I couldn’t come back. I didn’t want to step back into whatever it was we had started again without a better understanding of what my life means now. And what that means for whoever is going to be a part of it.”

“What do you mean ‘whoever’, Sugar?” Sy asked, struggling to hide the emotion her words had stirred within him. He was certain she couldn’t possibly think he wasn’t the one even as he realized how little time they’d actually had together. It killed him to think she might not give him a chance to prove how much he wanted to give her everything.

“I don't want someone afraid of losing me,” Frankie replied.

“I already did. I ain't afraid of it anymore. Just don't want to ever feel it again.” Sy watched her face carefully, searching for any sign that she didn’t understand exactly what he was saying. Just to make sure, he spoke again. “I ain’t looking to change you, Frankie. I ain’t looking to stop you from being whoever you want to be. I just wanna be there with you for as long as I can. If that’s okay.”

“Fuck, where did you come from?” Frankie asked after considering his words and smiled at his comfortable laugh.

“Frankie, it’s always been you for me. Who you are now? She ain’t really all that different from that wildcat I fell in love with twenty years ago. I love every fuckin’ thing about you.” Sy saw the doubt creep on her face. “Yeah, Sugar, all of it. You are a strong, self-aware woman who ain’t afraid to take what she needs. I count myself lucky you ain’t never found someone else interested in all of that and if I don’t get you to let me kiss you right now to show you what I’m talking about, well this whole trip’s probably been for naught.”

Sy lifted a hand to brush his fingers past her shoulder and smooth up the side of her neck, pressing the tips into her nape and applying the gentlest of pressure, waiting for her to make up her mind and lean into him. When she finally did, her lips crashed into his and he felt gravity flip as he grabbed on to her with his other arm and pulled her all the way against him. He slid his hand down to her hip and urged her to lift a leg and spin to straddle him so he could feel her weight and know she was real.

Sy smoothed both hands up her back as he held her close and kissed her deep, parting her lips with his tongue and licking into the space she made for him while she did the same. When he realized he wasn’t going to be able to stop if they kept kissing for much longer, he raised his hands to tangle in her hair and pull her head from his as he cleared his throat and spoke low.

“Sorry, that’s more than I thought I’d get from you at the moment. I doubt your dad or the neighbors wanna see what else I’d like to do to you right now.”

“There are no neighbors nearby, Sy. And Dad doesn’t spend time in the back of the house.”

Sy couldn’t help himself from stiffening at the thought and raised an eyebrow in question. He grew even harder as he watched Frankie bite her bottom lip and nod as she ran her hands down his chest landing at the clasp of his slacks. She unhooked the waistband and slid the zipper down agonizingly slowly before reaching in to grab his aching cock and push his boxers down enough so that he was free and could feel her touch on his burning skin.

He dropped his hands to her thighs, smoothing the thin fabric up her legs and sweeping his fingers over her ass cheeks while she stroked him lazily and bent to return to the kiss. His hands found the strings of her thong and he slipped a thumb under the back so he could grab hold and tug up, applying pressure to her clit. Frankie moaned into his mouth and arched her back into the sensation.

Sy pulled the flimsy material to the side and reached his hand further down and under her ass so he could just feel the wetness as he brushed his fingers against the delicate lips he could barely reach. He only realized how much he was also loving the way her hand squeezed and pulled him when she stopped suddenly and he broke the kiss to see what could be wrong. Instead of disaster, he was met with her mischievous eyes as she wiggled the hand that had previously been making him feel so good under her skirt while her other hand pulled the material back so he could see exactly what she was doing.

He groaned and watched rapt as Frankie slid her fingers inside her underwear and into her cunt. She pressed deep and moved around before she pulled them back out glistening with her own juices. And just like that he was in heaven again as she smeared her slick all over his cock and bent to whisper in his ear.

“Fuck me, Sy.”

“Gladly.” Sy eased her thong to the side down her thigh as she pressed her feet into the earth beneath them to lift up and settle herself back down his length with a luxurious sigh. She had barely engulfed him completely before he began to squeeze his ass to pump his hips into her with fervor.

With her hands on Sy’s shoulders, Frankie used the leverage to lift and lower herself on him in tandem with his thrusts, as he delved deeper and deeper. He felt every squeeze of her walls around him and swallowed her cries of pleasure as the head of his engorged member brushed her cervix again and again.

Sy wanted to put his hands on her body, on her skin. He thought about lifting her dress up and over her head, but settled on simply wrapping an arm around her waist and sliding the other up her back so he could manipulate her movements to make sure they were both feeling as good as they could. He wanted this to last forever, but seeing her now, hearing her moan above him for the first time in months knowing the last time he saw her he was making her come too caused a rush of sensation to course through his body. He pulled away from their kiss again.

“I ain’t gonna last Sugar, not like this.”

“I need you to hang on a little bit longer, Sy. Please,” Frankie begged him, grinding her hips a few more times before she did the unthinkable. After easing herself off him, she pulled her dress off exactly the way Sy had just wanted to. She dropped it to the grass and then sank to her knees and finally her back with the dress as a makeshift blanket. She reached out for him and he tumbled forward off the bench and between her open legs, pressing a kiss to her lips as he palmed a breast.

His lips moved over her chin and throat as he began to ease his way down her body, pulling her tiny thong along with him and pushing it off her legs. He took a few moments to push his own shoes and pants off as well pull his shirt over his head and now just as naked as Frankie, Sy positioned himself between her legs, shoulders spreading her wide so he could get a good long look at her puffy, pink pussy dripping and waiting for him.

“Not sure I’m gonna last long this way either, but we’ll give it a try,” he teased before putting his mouth on her. He nipped at her clit and rubbed his forefingers along her slit, easing in and out with a tease she whimpered for. When he heard her beg with a “please” he slid his fingers all the way in and licked around them. Sy pumped and pressed the palm of his hand against her mound for a moment before he pulled his hand all the way out and let his tongue do the rest of the work.

He felt his cock rub against the fabric of her dress as he rutted against the ground and fought to stem the growing pressure.

“So fucking turned on eating you out like this, Frankie,” he groaned into her cunt before returning to the job. Frankie held his head in place, grinding up against him. When she came in a rush of heat and wet, Sy took the opportunity to crawl back up and slip his dick inside her, thrusting and pumping with vigor. He grazed his fingers up the side of her body and then watched as she grabbed his hand and moved it to her throat, pressing just a little.

“Just hold still right there,” she gasped. “Fuck me and I’ll do the rest.”

Sy grunted in pleasure at the thought and did as he was instructed. He felt Frankie lean up into his hand. All the effort it took to keep his hand precisely still for her meant his attention wasn’t on how good she felt around him as he pumped in and out. Where he thought he’d need just a few more strokes, Sy now felt the time slip by as she moved into his hand and back out again, playing with her own breath for him. When he finally felt her tighten around him, he wasn’t prepared for how fast his own release came as well. He was so caught up in the way she maneuvered that he hadn’t noticed the build at all.

They lay naked on the grass next to each other, catching their breath with hands on their chests, waiting until the pounding of their hearts had resided before turning to face one another.

“You sure no one could see us?”

“Would you hate me if I said no?” Frankie teased before leaning over for a kiss to taste herself on his lips. “Kidding. No one can see us. Even if Dad ventured back to the kitchen, where he never likes to go anymore, there are enough trees and bushes in the garden to obscure this view. Our closest neighbors are a couple kilometers away. Your virtue is safe, promise.”

“Funny.” Sy rolled her on her back and kissed her long and deep again before settling along her side, drawing lazy lines along her skin. “You know I didn’t know what to expect when I saw you again. I’m real glad how this has turned out so far.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you in limbo forever, I swear. I just needed to get my head on straight.” Frankie sat up and reached for Sy’s pants, handing them to him and motioning to her own dress below.

“Did I fuck up your timeline?” Sy asked, plucking his shirt off the ground next. He stuck his arms through the sleeves and tucked his thumbs in the neck hole to pull the shirt over his head, elbows wide, before checking around for his shoes.

“I’ll recover, I’m sure.” Frankie slipped the dress back on and did her own sweep of the lawn, looking for her panties.

“I got those, Sugar,” Sy grinned, making a show of tucking the small bundle into his pocket. “Safe keeping till you come back home.”

Frankie reached up to run her fingers through Sy’s hair, brushing a few stray pieces of grass from his locks and let him do the same for her before pulling him in for more kisses. She broke away reluctantly and hooked her arm through his to lead the way back up to the house.

“I honestly haven’t decided when that’ll be, Sy.”

“I’m pretty good at waiting for you if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Or if I ever will.”

Sy stopped short and turned her to him.

“I wondered about that. Not for my own selfish reasons, mind you. But I got to thinking about some of the things you told me over dinner that night. About having a safety net of sorts. This is a nice place.”

“I also told you I liked being useful…but you’re not wrong. It’s been a long time since I took care of myself.”

“Or let someone take care of you?”

“Sy…”

“I ain’t talking about keeping you under wraps, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, Sugar. I just mean, you don’t need to go it alone. Look, you are free to make your own decisions about going back to the agency, finding something else to do, or quitting altogether. But I wanna be with you, Frankie. Wherever that is. If you wanna stay here, I’ll let you know right now that if you’ll have me, I’m ready to leave it all behind, too.”

“You’d walk away with me, Sy?”

“I would.“

Translations of the French *,**,**:

* “How can I help you?”

** “Papa, who is it?”

*** “Papa, you remember Dean? From high school. We called him Sy back then.”

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#henry cavill fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #syverson #august walker #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #syverson au #august walker au #henry cavill #walk with me #mine #deandoesthingstome

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year

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Walk with Me - Ch 2

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: You get a trip to Spain. And you get a trip to Spain. Everyone gets a trip to Spain!

Chapter Warnings: Brat punishment, male masturbation, more past relationship pining, alcohol, drug use, special guest!, p in v missionary with breath play (don't blink).

Word Count: 6.3K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: Usually a song per POV section

August

August Walker was irritated, to say the least. He was looking forward to fucking someone tonight, but Francesca had derailed that plan.

Francesca was new, but all signs had pointed to her rise into a most trusted associate position. It never failed to make him smile when he thought about the way a new mule would try to assert themselves at the beginning of their employment with him, whether they realized they were an employee or not. But he had ways of putting them in place, and until tonight, Francesca was following the program exactly as expected.

Eager to please, pliant, open to suggestion. One small misstep and then back on track. Which is why it frustrated him that she was here tonight. She was jeopardizing her own place with him without even knowing it.

When he closed the double doors of his office after she stepped inside, he took a deep breath before turning to face her. Too much authority could sometimes damage the trust he worked so hard to build with his girls, even though authority was what kept them coming back to him time after time. Hell, Francesca hadn't even been aware she'd been transporting for him yet. It was way too soon to open that door.

"Francesca, are you ready to share your thoughts with me?" He spoke with a dangerous tone to his voice and was surprised she didn't flinch at the sound.

"I missed you," was all she replied, as if she really thought that would be enough to explain her insubordination.

"What did I say?"

"August..." The lack of remorse in her voice was intriguing.

"What did I say?" He hated repeating himself, and he normally wouldn't, but he liked this one. A lot. And he really wanted her to work out. So he provided more leeway than he normally would and gave her another chance to explain herself.

She met his gaze with a solid one of her own, and he struggled to keep his dick from getting hard at the way she defied him. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was doing it on purpose, baiting him so he'd put her in her place.

"Explain," he commanded, giving her one final shot to set things right. Candace wasn't his first choice for the Barcelona trip, but if Francesca was going to go rogue like this so early on, he'd maybe have to reconsider.

"I saw you with her, and I got jealous."

Finally the truth.

"Where? Where did you see me? Hmm, darling?" He knew exactly where, and he also knew if she told him the truth, she'd be admitting another transgression. How she handled the admission would inform how he would deal with her.

If she admitted she'd defied his orders not only tonight, but last night too, when she'd kept to the outer edges of the club and tried to hide in the shadows, he'd know she was hooked well and good, willing to do anything for his attention, including admitting her mistakes.

If she instead tried to pretend it was only tonight that she'd seen August all over Candace, he'd know she was lying to try to save her own skin, and he could never trust her again.

"Here."

He waited, watching her with practiced eyes, willing her silently to finish her thought and not fuck this up. He was about to open his mouth to ask when.

"Last night. Okay? I know you said three days, but August, I couldn't wait. I need you. But then there she was with her hands all over you and you acting like you enjoyed it and I just, I couldn't help myself."

August was so pleased Francesca had told the truth, but he didn't let her see that. He remained stoic while she rambled on and only took his eyes off her face when she began to peel the straps of her dress down off her shoulders.

She was so bold, this one, revealing her gorgeous, perfect tits for him even while she was still voicing her apology. Only when he realized she hadn't actually said she was sorry did he tear his eyes away from her chest with a deliberate lick of his lips and set his gaze back to her eyes. She was welcome to interpret the displeasure in his look however she wanted.

"I'm sorry," she admitted, even while pushing her dress the rest of the way down her body, skimming her hands along her sides and thighs. God, she fucking knew exactly how to get him going, drawing attention to the heaven he wanted to find himself lost in.

She hadn't even worn underwear tonight. As she stood before him, naked save for the strappy heels, he moved toward her.

"Forgotten, but not forgiven, dear. Do I need to remind you what disobedience costs?" He brushed his fingers lightly over the skin of her shoulder and relished the goosebumps that formed.

"If you'd like to."

God, she was a brat. He tightened his grip and sent her to her knees as he unzipped his trousers.

"Stay still," he warned, as she reached for him. He watched with pride as she dropped hands to her sides and peered up at him with desire.

There was really only one thing he could do now to teach her a lesson. Maybe two, if he thought about it long enough, but he was hard for her already, and he didn't want to wait for Mateo to return with Candace.

He took himself in hand and began to stroke slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin against his palm. He watched her eyes shift to hip height and waited for her to realize what her punishment would be. It wasn't until he released a soft groan that her eyes snapped back to him with betrayal and disappointment. He let go of his cock and put his hand in front of her mouth.

"Put all that saliva dripping from your slutty mouth right here," he commanded and she did exactly as told, letting the tip of her tongue linger almost too long. "Now, watch me. Don't close your eyes."

He dropped his trousers to his ankles, took himself back in hand, and began to pump in earnest. This wasn't his favorite way to get off. Point of fact it was his absolute least favorite. But he needed her to know her actions had consequences. If he fucked her before he took her to Barcelona now, she'd think she had some control and he couldn't let that happen.

He was never planning to take Candace. She was only a decoy to test Francesca's will. And there would be other tests, especially in Spain. But for now, he'd have to conjure up the images of her breaking beneath him while he pounded into her, of the way she bent for him when he moved her into whatever position he wanted, the way she begged for his cock with her body and the way she said yes to everything he asked of her.

He didn't want this solo release, didn't want to be staring into her gorgeous eyes while he touched only himself and she kneeled stock still in front of him. Didn't want to pull his orgasm out into nothing but his own hand. But she'd disobeyed and he'd be damned if he rewarded her for that.

Her knees had to ache by now. He wasn't quick when he masturbated. It was never as pleasurable as when he could feel the hot, wet heat of a woman clenching around him, regardless of the orifice he used. He had to shift through all the mental snapshots he had of their time together and the things he still wanted to do to her so he could begin to feel the fire in his own belly, the tightening that signaled he'd be free soon.

As his strokes increased, he was so proud to see she still wasn't touching herself while she watched him. He could see her thighs clench, and he decided to allow her that small pittance of friction. It would never be enough to satisfy her, so it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was how she obeyed him.

At that final thought, he felt his orgasm rip through him, spurts of warm come landing on his hand, some of the floor in front of him, and he even saw one large drop hit her face. He closed his eyes so he didn't stare too long and make himself hard again. This was almost worse for him than for her.

"Clean me up," he ordered and felt his heart swell when she didn't move immediately. She was waiting for more direction, so he gave it, careful not to offer an opportunity for her to get him hard again. If he let her use her mouth, the whole lesson would be moot. He took the handkerchief from his suit jacket pocket and tossed it in her direction.

"I'm so sorry, August." Her voice was quiet yet confident as she wiped her face and then reached for his hand. "It won't happen again."

He would have preferred she cleaned his hand off first, but he was swayed by the sincerity of her words and decided enough was enough. Except for one last order, which he gave after pulling up his pants and tucking himself away.

"Get up, get dressed, walk out of this office, and go home. And don't touch yourself on the way."

Syverson

It had only been a day, and Agent Syverson's head was still reeling from the revelation that not only was he in the same city as his high school sweetheart after all this time, but that she was also part of his investigation. Luckily, the name he’d already made for himself with the agency meant he was able to overcome any objection to him retaining his newly assigned control of this case. At least two decades apart with no contact made her practically a stranger in the eyes of his employer.

He also knew enough to keep his emotions in check during that debrief better than he had in that surveillance trailer, but it didn't stop him from letting his mind wander back to those high school nights when he had a chance.

She was the most daring thing he'd ever met, and that was saying something in their town full of super jocks and service-proud inhabitants. He couldn't remember why she hadn't been on his radar until they bumped into each other in the hall the last half of senior year.

Could have been the fact that while he himself was a star athlete, he never ventured over to the gym where other students were practicing whatever weird martial arts the school had offered. It had all seemed too foreign to him back then.

He stuck to a more traditional small-town life, helping out on the family farm and dating the cheerleaders that followed the football team around like puppy dogs. He didn't even question the all-American apple pie path he was on until he was looking into her eyes while handing her the books that had toppled to the ground when they collided.

He remembered a few of the titles and how he had joked that he could take her shooting sometime if she really wanted to learn about guns. He probably said something stupid like "can't learn about life from a book." Stupid because when she took him up on his offer, she out-shot him at the range with absolutely no coaching from him whatsoever.

He'd been hooked from that moment on. Breaking up with Chelsea hadn't been the easiest. Her tears made him uncomfortable in a way he hated because while he knew they didn't belong together, he also knew it was a little shitty to dump her just because he wanted to try something new. And it wasn't as if he hadn't broken up with girls before, but it had usually been mutual.

He liked Chelsea well enough, knew she'd rebound just fine, though he'd been surprised she'd gone after his best friend. It didn't bother him one bit as he started spending every free moment with Frankie, and he barely registered what was going on with anyone else in those first weeks of infatuation.

Frankie was wild. She didn't hesitate when he suggested they dirt bike out to the quarries. He'd meant to get her on his bike behind him, have her hold tight around his waist, and try to jolt her a bit with his fancy but careful maneuvers. Gunning the engine or doing a little front-wheel pop after making sure they were holding tight usually always worked to get a girl squealing and holding him tighter, breathless for him and the way he'd make sure they were okay after the ride, all high from endorphins.

But she showed up to their meeting spot on her own bike and climbed right to Eagle Point with no prompt, stripped off her long sleeve shirt and pants, left them in a heap next to her helmet and boots, and leaped right off the outcropping into the cool water below. She called to him when her head popped back into view, and he followed soon after. He couldn't explain the way she made him feel. Alive in a way he hadn't ever felt with any other girlfriend.

She was reluctant to accept his nickname for her, but he couldn’t stop himself. Even with all her hard edges and daring, he found her sweet when he tasted her lips, kissed her skin, sunk between her legs.

Prom night wasn’t their first. They'd both been with other partners as well as each other. But something about that night, the way she danced with him, for him, had him so hard. He wanted to leave the festivities early, but she was having too much fun to agree, so they stayed right until the end, mingling with her jiu-jitsu friends and his football pals. She bridged that gap so effortlessly, even made a friend of Chelsea after a while so that hanging out at the dance never turned awkward. She was just so magnetic and magical.

He'd saved up from farm chores so he could spring for a fancy hotel room, and he took her there as soon as she would let him, but she took the lead in every other way that night.

She was the one who taught him that going down on a girl first was the best way to get a girl ready. He'd done it a few times before, but she really encouraged him to perfect his technique that night, making sure she'd come a few times before she let him crawl his way up her belly. And he thought he'd just grab a condom and go, but she pushed him to his back and slipped herself down his body before wrapping her lips around his cock and making him come from the pleasure of her mouth.

By the time he figured out it was love, she was already packing to leave the country with her parents to care for her elderly grandmother. He would work double shifts over the summer when he could get them just to save up for a few overseas calls that never lasted long enough. The rest of the money, and some extra borrowed from his older brother, he put toward a ticket back to the States for her at the end of the summer. But then community college started, and she was off at a foreign university and time just ran away from them.

He was hard while he stared at her surveillance photos. He should have been looking at her surroundings and the people she was meeting, but all he could see was the color of her lipstick and the way her clothes hugged her body.

He took his release in the shower, daydreaming of what life could have been if he'd somehow managed to convince her to stay all those years ago. He pictured a farm and some kids, sunsets on the front porch, and lazy nights by the fireplace. Though why he regressed to that old tired cliche, he’d never know. Maybe it was just the sudden flood of hometown memories with her. So when none of that worked and actually threatened to derail his orgasm, he pushed the kids out of his mind and pictured her screaming his name while he took her apart on the black fur of bear skin rug placed next to a fire.

And now he needed to get back to work. He had a bag to pack and a plane to catch. He'd finish his research on the flight to Barcelona. Agent Syverson knew he’d gotten lucky. There wasn’t anything that said he couldn’t take this investigation overseas, but he hadn’t considered it yet until a CIA director called last night with flight info and instructions to bring his best team member for a meeting at a Spanish field office to compare notes. Sy didn’t decline.

He and Victoria Ramos stepped out of the elevator roughly an hour after landing, with absolutely no time to stop at the hotel or even grab a bite to eat before the scheduled meeting. It was a really good thing he’d been able to actually get any sleep on the long distance flight. If he could just make it through the briefing, he should be able to get into a bed by noon. Sy and Ramos flashed their badges at security and were led back to a large office with a small balcony, open to the fresh air.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit Sy right where he needed it and he was grateful when the Director they were here to see turned inside and offered them a cup. They both accepted and then took seats as their host made his way around a desk to sit opposite them.

“Appreciate you both making the trip on such short notice, I’m Director Walter Marshall. This isn’t my field office, but it is my mission, and it looks like our agencies share a target. We’re already embedded with Walker. I’m hoping to get some idea of why I shouldn’t pull jurisdictional rights and have you shut down.”

It was a hell of a way to start a conversation, but Syverson appreciated the directness of his new contact, and figured the CIA had to be amenable to cooperation if he was willing to bring them overseas.

‘We’re glad to be here and certainly don’t plan on steppin’ on any toes,” Syverson’s southern accent slipped through the weariness he was beginning to feel in his bones. “I’m Agent Syverson and this is Agent Ramos. I’m not sure why you have August Walker in yer sights, but we’re not too far from nailing one of the most dangerous drug kingpins in Miami. I’m guessin’ maybe you're after him for international drug traffickin’, but I ‘spose I could be wrong about that. We’re just trying to get some bad shit off the streets.”

“Noble cause, to be sure.” Director Marshall replied with a sincere nod of his head. “Which is why I agreed to bring you here. If you think there is any information for your case to be gained from surveilling Walker and his companion here on a “business” trip, I’m happy to allow that on the condition you don’t interfere with any activity you may see him or the woman traveling with him undertake.”

“I don’t imagine we have jurisdiction here, anyway, sir,” Ramos interjected. Syverson nodded his agreement and motioned for her to go on. He wasn’t one to take all control of a conversation. He liked to see his agents speak up when warranted and especially if they had good ideas or important information to share. “But we definitely appreciate the opportunity and will gladly accept your terms. Sir.”

Walter was taken aback and shifted his focus back to Syverson to see if he’d just witnessed what he thought he had. It wasn’t often a ranking officer allowed a subordinate to speak about an operation with a new department or agency. Walter recognized the trust Syverson was putting in his agent and he nodded back as Syverson indicated his attention ought to be on Ramos.

Victoria and Walter hashed out the details, including the location of the hotel where Walker was staying with his mule. The field office had located an open flat nearby and were setting them up there. They finished the meeting amicably and earlier than expected, so while Victoria accepted the Director’s invitation to breakfast, Syverson opted to grab a cab to the apartment so he could shower and grab a nap before heading to case the hotel and surrounding neighborhood. He didn’t mind sharing his notes with Ramos later that night.

He wanted the time to himself to really think about this woman he was about to see again.

Francesca

I sat in my First Class cabin and wondered when the flight attendants would finish their routines and leave us all be so I could find a way to overcome the barriers between us and onto August's lap. I had been alone on the flight to Amsterdam, and it didn't bother me one bit. But the flight to Barcelona through London was going to kill me. He was so close and yet so far.

After that night in his office, I had done exactly what he commanded. I felt the slick dripping down my inner thighs while I waited for my Uber and thought of nothing but whether or not I'd made a huge mistake.

That's a lie.

I thought about the way he looked handling himself in front of me like that. I could tell he wanted my mouth and hands on him, but he needed to punish my insubordination. It's entirely possible Candace was never a threat to begin with, but I knew he was fucking her too and I couldn't take that chance. The control he exhibited in that moment was exhilarating.

It took all of ten seconds to feel sweet ecstasy when I'd finally closed and locked my apartment door and put my hand up my skirt as I sank to the floor. Which sucked because I always like to make it last as long as possible. I'm sure that was part of his plan, too, to ruin my complete pleasure. But he never said I couldn't keep touching myself once I made it home, so I picked myself up off the floor and headed to my bed where I found my favorite vibrator in the nightstand and made myself scream his name over and over all night.

It was really too bad for him that I was probably going to disobey him again several more times over the course of our relationship. If his idea of punishment was to deprive us both of each other's touch, he was going to be hurting, too. But for now, I had secured my place on the Barcelona flight. As well as confirming that he didn't trust Candace the way he trusted me. There was no way he was bringing her on this trip, but I stayed away that third night just in case. I did not want to jeopardize anything anymore than I might have already.

Once the cabin lights were dimmed after dinner service, I stepped into the aisle, closed the door of my mile-high room, and padded around to August's luxury cubicle. He welcomed me with open arms, his seat already laid flat for the evening. With the door closed, he held me close in the tight quarters and began to whisper all the things he was going to do to me when we finally arrived at our hotel.

“Do you have any idea how badly I want to fuck you on this plane right here and now?” he growled into my ear. “I’m not sure I could hold back, though. And I know you could never stifle your cries and screams while I fuck you like I want to. I don’t think this is quite the environment for us to subject the other passengers to that.”

“None of what you’ve just said stops me from wanting to shift these clothes out of the way so I can sink onto your lap,” I whispered back. Objectively, I knew he was right, but it didn't stop me from wanting that. I felt him get hard beneath me.

“You are a very naughty girl,” he replied and I promised him I'd be quiet, but he resisted, telling me it would be worth the wait.

Then he made me go back to my own seat, using the work he needed to take care of as an excuse, but I knew he just wanted me off his lap. His hard-on was never going away while I was still squirming all over him and he was resistant to fucking me or letting me take care of him. It's entirely possible he used the same self-control he showed two nights ago to jerk off quietly in his tiny room. I know I did. But I was listening hard to everything happening across from me and I couldn't hear anything that sounded like him stroking his cock or coming into his own hand. I stayed awake until he appeared to finish his work and had drifted off to a short sleep.

It was a boring two hour flight from London to Barcelona. He still wouldn’t let me on his lap. I took advantage of the free drink service in First Class and downed three mimosas before we landed. We cleared customs with a breeze and then August swept me out to the waiting car service. I couldn’t wait to get a smoke and luckily the limo had just my brand stocked along with another bottle of champagne that I decided would be a bad idea before I got something to eat. After a quick thirty minute ride, we arrived at El Palauet where he had already arranged for early check-in.

I was suitably impressed by the lobby full of polished marble floors and deep, rich hand carved wooden staircases and architectural columns. The dark, masculine interior was full of lush, velvet couches and leather chairs next to low cocktail tables. A set of double doors led to what appeared to be a cafe housed in an interior atrium full of tropical plants. This first look was in stark contrast to the light, airy, feminine room the bellhop opened for us.

There were a few pieces of modern furniture mixed with whitewashed antiques and baroque ceiling insets. Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceilings of every room of the suite and double french doors filled with floral stained glass opened onto the large balcony overlooking the promenade below. Why we needed two bedrooms, I couldn’t figure immediately but the suite was also equipped with two bathrooms, a sitting area, a dinning area, and a small gourmet kitchen. A basket full of continental breakfast items sat on the counter, and I had no doubt I’d find a selection of meats and cheeses in the sleek refrigerator, along with who knows how many bottles of wine and champagne.

The place was gorgeous and designed to keep you at your most comfortable. I was definitely comfortable, or at least getting there as I peeled off the dress I’d worn over the last fourteen hours after having a quick bite to eat. There was really only one more thing I needed after that long, lonely flight, and August was the only one I wanted it from. I made it abundantly clear. I really couldn’t figure out how he was so willing to turn me down almost as soon as we got to the room.

When he left for his meeting, I took a good long look around the entire apartment, examining all the spots I hadn’t yet seen. Eventually, I wanted to escape. The room was way too comfortable, and I didn't want to be lulled into a false sense that I’d actually experienced a town just because I took an airplane ride to a limo to a hotel. I wasn’t unfamiliar with European cities, but it was still nice to experience new things.

I unpacked my bags, packed so pristinely by August, and pulled out some yoga gear. I put a light, but long sweater over my outfit and threw on a wide belt and a pair of super comfortable slouchy boots for the trek to the studio. I grabbed a complimentary mat from the concierge on the way out and headed out for the short walk to the metro station. I could have taken a car, but I wanted to transport myself.

I must have been hallucinating, delirious from the morning champagne and very little food. Why I thought a power yoga practice would also be a good idea, I have no idea. But on the way both to and from the studio, I felt like I was being followed. At first, I noticed a woman with her long, dark hair pulled back into a high, sleek ponytail. She wore a smart suit, and her nails and makeup were on point. But everything else about her screamed Fed. When we were almost to my stop, she moved to another car and a man passed her on his way in. He wore sunglasses with a sharp, blue suit and had a handsome beard and nice head of hair that made me immediately want to grab onto it while I rode his face into a body-shattering orgasm. I could curse August for leaving me wanting like that.

When I blinked he was already past me, and I turned to catch a glimpse of his tremendous ass, pants stretched just tight enough to tell me he didn’t bother to spend his cash on a tailor. Or maybe he did. I would have stared longer but the doors opened and I hopped off, eager to get to my drop-in class.

I decided to peel my completely soaked yoga gear off after class, opting for a quick shower and thankful the sweater dress I brought was dark enough to hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing underwear or a bra. I didn’t think anyone would mind the jiggle, either.

I was just musing over the admiring look I’d gotten from the decidedly too-young-for-me twenty-something stepping off the train with his skateboard, when I noticed Mr. Tight Pants again. Super odd. The entire train ride, I felt like I was being eye-fucked and I didn’t mind it one bit. I made sure to snap a few selfies, even though August would never let me post them on my IG page. I was blurry in them anyway.

I still couldn’t get a good solid look at him, especially while scanning around looking for High-and-Tight as I headed for the exit. I didn’t see her until I got off at my stop on the way back to the hotel. Pony Tail tailed me all the way back to the hotel, stopping at a cafe just before I crossed the last street and stepped into the lobby. I thought about turning around and inviting her in, seeing what her reaction would be. If I was being watched, I wished a little bit that they’d traded surveillance spots. Good lord, that man was attractive, though, even behind the shades. I didn’t mind the attention at all.

August returned soon after I did, raring to go. He wanted to grab a shower, then change before his next meeting. Maybe get a bite to eat. I was exhausted from the flight, yoga, getting there and back, but he was having none of it.

“Here, start with a little bump now. We’ll get you something more substantial later.”

And who was I to say no? We showered, and he took me against the cool tile wall, finally giving me a small taste of what I’d been craving for days now. If I thought a little about a full beard and a fuller head of hair, what would it harm?

He left soon after, still defying my unquenched desire as I stretched out naked on our bed and spread my legs hoping to entice him into staying. I finally got up and dressed and headed out to find a cafe. Yes, there was food aplenty in the room, and yes, it was all probably going to go bad or get tossed when we left. I could never figure out why August was so careless with his money, so blase about extravagances.

I finally put some substantial food into my body, and felt the energy of the sun creep inside me as well. I was refreshed and on high alert when I noticed the jogger with a hoodie and sunglasses. It was that ass again, no doubt in my mind. When things slowed down across the way at the hotel, I paid my bill and left, opting for a walk along the promenade and hoping my jogger friend would return.

If he did, I never saw him, but the long haired beauty showed up on the arm of a man with a mop of curls on his head. I smiled at the thought of how nice they looked together. After a good long stroll, I made my way back to the hotel to change and get ready for the late dinner August promised when he was done with his business.

August let me kiss him hard on the lips when he returned to find me naked and rifling through the clothes hanging in the closet. I took a chance and ran my hand down his chest, slipping my fingers between his jacket and shirt, over his belt, down between his legs. I was so pleased to find him hard already.

“You didn’t stay in when I left, did you, Francesca?” he asked me with a hint of displeasure. “What’d you get up to?”

“Fresh air, baby. That’s all. I swear.” I moved to push his jacket off his shoulders and turned to place it on a hanger. I knew he hated wrinkling his clothes by tossing them carelessly on the floor. While he tugged at his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, I sank to my knees and asked with my eyes if I could help with his trousers.

“You know we have plenty of food in the room and a beautiful balcony for you to lounge on. You didn’t have to go anywhere.” He reached down to grab his pants from my hands after hanging his shirt, careful to keep his stiffening cock clear from my touch.

“You can’t keep me locked up all alone in this gorgeous suite full of all kinds of surfaces I’d like to get fucked on and expect me to wait patiently for your return.”

“Oh, that is exactly what I expect, darling. You should know that by now.” He sank to meet me on his knees, wrapping his fingers around my jaw to tilt my face towards his.

“Well, it’s obviously too late to ask for permission now. What can I do to earn your forgiveness?” I asked with a spark in my eye, and I watched while he contemplated. It was so painfully obvious that he wasn’t interested in withholding from me again, the way he wandered into the bedroom already hard. I knew I’d won a little victory when he began to drag his fingers down my throat, over my bare chest and belly, then tucked them neatly between my legs, just as I'd done for him a few moments earlier. My eyes fluttered shut as he slipped two digits inside me, pumping slowly.

“Does that feel good? Think it’s earned?”

“It does feel good. So so good.” I moaned as he scissored and curled his fingers, seemingly seeking out the spots he knew would give me pleasure. Though I should have known I wasn't getting off that light. The sounds of pleasure caught in my throat as I felt the fingers of his other hand snake around my neck. He watched my reactions carefully and I’m sure he felt the heat ignite inside me as he squeezed gently and guided me to my back right there on the closet floor.

“Is this one of those surfaces you were bemoaning just now?” he asked, hovering over me.

I gasped out a breathy “yes” and added a “please” for good measure. He didn’t deny me, or himself, any longer. He removed his grip long enough to situate himself between my thighs and eased his cock in next to his fingers.

“You like how that feels, don’t you? Full up, maybe too full, hmm?”

“I love the way you feel inside me, August.”

I could tell it caught him off guard, the way I called his name like that. I pleaded with my eyes as he answered by removing one hand from between my legs and wrapping his other around my throat, tightening and loosening the squeeze in rhythm with his thrusts. When he sped up, he stopped opening his hand on my neck until he came hard inside me and then he bent to kiss the tears away as I shook while I came back down from the high. I could have sworn I heard him whisper my name when he came, but maybe I was imagining it.

We showered without another incident, though he caressed me as he helped soap my naked skin. If he didn’t have definitive plans for the evening, I probably could have sunk to my knees and convinced him to stay in, but instead he enticed me out of the shower with some more cocaine.

I dried off and found myself right back where I was just before August came back to the hotel.

“Thank you, again, for packing for me.”

“‘Of course, Francesca,” he called to me as he entered the room. “You know I love to select your outfits to make sure you feel comfortable and appropriately dressed for our outings. Will you wear the silver jumpsuit tonight?”

“Of course, August. Anything you want. You treat me so well, baby.”

Taglists

“Nothing’s too good for you.”

Chapter 3

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