The Valentine Massacre
by stein willard <email@example.com>
She grimaced as she stepped into the room. Red candles were everywhere and the floor was strewn with red rose petals. With practiced skill her eyes swept the room. The setting was obvious. This was to be a scene for love. Her presence here meant that it would not be anymore.
She touched the butt of her gun. She hated that she had to do this on Valentine’s Day. With a soft sigh, she screwed on her silencer. The longer she did this job, the more she became disillusioned by mankind. Who would think of organizing a hit on their partner on Valentine’s Day? Even if said partner is an unscrupulous crime boss who deserved to be put down. She swept the room with weary eyes and swallowed hard. If only she had a choice. She reached for her phone and read the cryptic message again.
21:00 Universal Hotel, 17th floor, Room 1733.
Maybe this was a sign that she needed to quit. She had quit smoking, which she had thought would be near impossible. Quitting this job should be easier. She didn’t enjoy it half as much as she had enjoyed smoking after all. Her eyes fell on the ice bucket and she mentally mourned the loss of the $2000 Krug Clos d’Ambonnay 1998 champagne. She would give her trigger finger to have a sip. The first and the last time she had a taste of this expensive elixir was almost five years ago when she crashed a party in Monaco. She had been on the clock, on rather on the trail of François de Mathieu, when a server had offered her glass of champagne. Having spotted her target in the company of four other men, she had decided to wait it out a bit and enjoy herself in the meantime. Her first taste had been explosive. Her eyes had literally popped as the bubbles danced on her tongue like a Prima Ballerina Abssoluta. It had almost broken her heart when, remembering her reason for being there, she had found that de Mathieu had excused himself from his company and was making his way to the smoking deck. With great regret, she had discarded her glass to follow the man. Since then she had promised herself that she would, one day, buy herself a bottle. Unfortunately, it was quite difficult to obtain a bottle. Maybe, depending on how the night goes, she might rescue the poor bottle and take it home with her.
A slight, very slight sound jerked Jasmine from her thoughts and she stiffened. Damn! How could she have allowed her concentration to slip? Her hand tightened on the butt of her gun and her finger gently grazed the trigger.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a soft husky voice spoke, causing an inexplicable shiver to chase down her spine. Of all the people to chase the same hit, it had to be her. “Turn around slowly. If you try anything, you’ll end up with a third eye.”
Clenching her jaw, she did as she was instructed and turned to look into the smiling face of the prolific Sphinx. Patricia Henshaw was one the best, simply because she didn’t look like an assassin. If there really ever was an assassin ‘look’. She had met many of her competitors over the years. None, however, baffled her like this woman. Petite, blonde and with large blue eyes set in an adorable heart shaped face, the woman blended in everywhere. The first time they’d met, had been in a small skiing village on the Swiss border. Just as was the case now, they had both been on the same hit. The woman had been at the bar flirting with some old, rich guy and Jasmine had assumed that the blonde was some gold-digging bimbo, brought along by the man to impress his skiing buddies. She had quickly discarded the woman as she had calmly studied her target. He was the same man the blonde was gushing over. As the day progressed the party had left the hotel bar and each of the men had steered their respective dates to the local nightclub. Thoroughly irritated at having to brave the snow again after spending the day in the cold, trailing her target on the slopes, Jasmine had decided to finish her spiced wine first before she followed the entourage. To this day she regretted that decision. When she arrived at the nightclub, the police and several ambulances were double parked in front of the nightclub. In the pandemonium, a hysterical blonde was running after a gurney, crying and screaming as Jasmine’s target was loaded into the ambulance. She had stared, agog, as the blonde turned to her and for a split second, her eyes had glinted smugly. Completely stunned and disgusted with herself for not having paid closer attention, Jasmine knew she had been beaten by a worthy opponent and had taken the next flight home. Since then they had met a few more times over the past ten years, and Jasmine had made sure not to underestimate the bubbly cheerleader-like assassin again.
“Now place your weapon on the table and move over to the couch,” the blonde ordered in a quiet voice. Jasmine grinded her teeth and did as she was ordered. She didn’t know whether it was being bested by the woman again that made her so mad or whether it was the fact that the woman dared to order her around like this that made her blood boil. She took a seat on the couch and waited, seeming calm, for the woman’s next move. She blinked when Patricia walked over to the ice bucket.
“Don Ignacio has good taste, don’t you think,” she said as she traced the chilled bottle with a red tipped fingernail. “What do you say, we have ourselves a small Valentine’s Day celebration.” She pouted. “Or does the big bad butch not celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
Jasmine inhaled deeply. “What is it you want from me, Patricia? If you want the target, then go right ahead.”
The blonde chuckled, a soft, husky sound. “Why, dear Jasmine? You obviously have nowhere else to be. Why else take an assignment on Valentine’s Day?” There was a slight edge to the blonde’s voice and Jasmine grinned.
“The same could be said of you, Patty,” she taunted back.
The blue eyes hardened slightly. “Don’t call me that.” Just as quickly the ever-present smile was back on the beautiful face. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I believe my night will end much better than yours.”
Jasmine refused to dignify the taunt with a remark. She knew when to exercise patience and when to return a barb. The blonde studied her for a moment, before she pointed at the bottle.
“Since we’re not going to talk much, it seems, why don’t you pop the champagne instead. You’ve been eyeing it since you entered the suite.” The blue eyes gleamed as they ran over her face. “Maybe, who knows, it might just put us in the Valentine’s Day spirit.”
“No, thanks,” Jasmine said coolly and leaned back in the couch. By her estimation, Don Ignacio should’ve returned to the suite three minutes ago. Unless he was held up somewhere, Patricia was definitely playing at something. “Why don’t you tell me why you are really here? Knowing you, you’ve probably already taken care of the target.”
Patricia cocked her head to the side. “How about we call it a truce for tonight and talk a bit. We don’t get much time to talk like this. Nor is it every day that one gets a chance to talk to your idol about work over an expensive glass of champagne.” She shrugged when Jasmine didn’t respond immediately. “I’ll also tell you about the target.”
Jasmine sighed. What did she have to lose? Patricia will not kill her. She was probably the only true competition the blonde had. Contrary to how the job was glamorized in movies, it could become so tedious at times. Having a worthy competitor kept it somewhat exciting and less lonely. And then there was the Krug. She would love to have another taste of the bottle. She rose to her feet and saw that her sudden movement, combined with her size, had startled the blonde. Ignoring the fact that the blonde now had her gun trained on her, Jasmine reached for the bottle and with deft skill popped the cork. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Patricia lowering the gun. After filling two glasses she held one out to the blonde.
“On one condition,” she had quietly as held the glass out of reach. A blonde eyebrow arched in response. “No guns. You put your gun with mine while we enjoy the champagne.”
For a moment Patricia studied her long and hard before she placed her gun on the table and walked over to the couch. “You might be almost twice my size, but you should know that I don’t need a weapon to defend myself,” she warned.
“No need to worry.” She held up her glass. “I have everything I desire right here.” She watched a shadow cross over the blue eyes, but it gone just as quickly.
“Good to know,” Patricia snapped.
Jasmine took a seat next to the woman. “Have you ever had Krug?”
“Not as often as I would’ve liked.”
“Well, I’ve only had it once. Rather as sip of it. Ever since I’ve tried to secure a bottle.”
Patricia snorted. “The only way is to hope you get an assignment on Jacques de Lyoni or Frank Purcell. They bought all the available bottles at last year’s wine auction.”
Jasmine shook her head. “They’re both good guys. I doubt we’ll ever cross paths.”
“You never know,” the blonde said and tossed back the precious liquid, making Jasmine cringe. “People are not always who we think they are.” She rose to refill her glass and Jasmine noticed that the blonde’s gaze lingered a few moments longer on her gun. She smirked when the woman returned to the couch and settled in. This time she kicked off her heels and crossed her legs, causing her Derek Lam pencil shirt to ride up slightly. Not wanting to be caught staring, she quickly took a sip of her drink and almost moaned at the taste. It was actually better than the last time. The glimpse of the inside of the blonde’s thigh, surely complemented the taste of the Krug. For a mad moment, Jasmine wondered what the Krug would taste like sipped from Patricia’s navel. Startled by the thought, her hand jerked as she was about to take a sip and she felt a soft wet trail running down her chin.
“How clumsy,” Patricia murmured next to her and Jasmine’s head jerked in her direction. The woman’s cheeks were slightly flushed as she looked at Jasmine…no…stared at Jasmine’s neck. Has she not seen the woman out and about during daylight before, she would’ve sworn the woman was a vampire. Nobody had any business looking at another human’s neck with such obvious hunger. She swallowed hard and was about to place her glass on the carpet next to the couch so she could clean up the spill, when Patricia pouched.
“Let me,” the blonde husked and before Jasmine could react, she felt the woman’s tongue trailing down her neck.
“Oh!” She felt her heart begin to race as Patricia pulled away. The way the blonde was looking at her was make her insanely wet. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.
Patricia nodded, her pupils shot wide as she stared at Jasmine. “You’re welcome. However, know that I’m willing to help in anyway if there are any more spills...” The blue eyes tracked down Jasmine’s chest to the settle at her crotch. “…anywhere on your… person.”
At that very moment, Jasmine felt a fresh wave of wetness flood her nether region. It was almost unheard off that another woman could affect her so. She lifted the glass to her lips and downed the contents hurriedly. She was in an expensive penthouse with a devastating beautiful and willing woman, a chilled bottle of Krug and she presume, a very big comfortable bed. Maybe for tonight she could pretend that they weren’t enemies. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and with it, cold hard reality. She reached out and placed her hand on the skirt-clad thigh. They both moved closer simultaneously and their mouths met in a surprisingly gentle kiss. Jasmine felt a soft fluttering in her stomach as she felt Patricia’s tongue slip into her mouth. She moaned as the blonde’s tongue brushed over the room of her mouth before its tip traced a slow path over Jasmine’s tongue. It was almost criminal how good the kiss felt and tasted. When they broke the kiss, they both stared at each other with dazed expressions.
Patricia rose to her feet. “Come with me.”
Still numbed from the delicious kiss, Jasmine allowed herself to be led down a short hallway to the bedroom. Just as she’d thought, there was a huge four-poster bed in the center of the room. Patricia’s hands were suddenly everywhere and in between kisses and bites, Jasmine found herself completely naked. Her Armani pantsuit littered the floor around them. She groaned when she felt a small hand reach between her legs. Patricia’s eyes grew dark as she rubbed her fingers through the wetness. Jasmine’s knees buckled when Patricia withdrew her hand and licked her fingers with obvious appreciation.
The erotic sight, made Jasmine grab the woman close in a hard, passionate kiss. She was glowing with pride when after she’d broken off the kiss, Patricia still stood with her eyes closed and panting softly. Taking advantage of the blonde’s state, Jasmine began to undress her. Halfway through her task, Patricia had joined in and it was with a tender kiss that Jasmine walked her backwards to the bed. When they were bother sprawled on the bed, Patricia grabbed Jasmine’s wrists and with no reservations, Jasmine allowed the blonde to pin her down. Using her knees, Patricia opened Jasmine’s legs wider until she was settled firmly against Jasmine. Jasmine gasped loudly when Patricia began to undulate her hips slowly, the movement causing her pubic bone to hit against Jasmine’s clit. She closed her eyes, causing her other senses to go into overdrive.
“No…look at me…look at me, Jasmine,” Patricia gasped as she increased her movements. Jasmine opened her eyes. Patricia’s eyes were dark as they stared into her. Her mouth was opened slight and soft puffing sounds escaped her lips as she began a thrust and roll motion, causing her breasts to sway wildly. Scared that the sight of the bouncing breasts would push her over the edge too soon, Jasmine used her bigger body to roll them over. For a moment she could see confusion followed by regret on Patricia face at the lost advantage. Not for long, Jasmine thought. She flicked her tongue over each of the hard nipples and heard a soft hum coming from Patricia. Her tongue ran over each of the ribs and down to dip into the small navel.
“Oh…oh…oh…” Patricia gasped as filled the small hole with her tongue and lap at it as it drinking from it. “You’re killing me. I need to come…now.”
She continued downwards, using her tongue to slip between the soft, slick lips. Patricia’s hips shot off the bed, almost unseating Jasmin. She let out drawn out moan when Jasmine found the hard little noddle and began to suckle it. Patricia’s hips jerk wildly as if unsure whether she should pump or pull away. The only sound in the room was the soft suckling noises and the blonde’s frantic panting. Patricia suddenly froze in mid-thrust and let out a long moan before she reached down to hold Jasmine’s head in position as she pumped her hips fast and hard, all the while muttering incoherently. With loud gasp she fell back against the pillows, gasping.
Jasmine slowly lifted her head to look at the blonde and smiled when she saw how completely drained the woman appeared. She crawled up and over Patricia. She was throbbing with want and so close to coming. She tilted Patricia’s hips slightly and began to roll her hips, rubbing her clit against the moist heat of the blonde’s sex. She swallowed hard when she felt an answering movement from the blonde. Feeling her climax nearing she threw her head back and began to grind her hips, desperate to reach the pinnacle.
“Look at me,” Patricia muttered and it took all Jasmine’s willpower to do so. The moment she met the smoldering blue eyes, her climax hit. She pressed down into the blonde, her body shaking as she was held in the grips of a pleasure so excruciatingly intense. When her muscles unlocked and she could move again, she rolled off her lover and lay next to her gasping softly. Patricia pulled her closer and cradled Jasmine’s face against her breast.
“Incredible,” she whispered as she combed her fingers through Jasmine’s short, sweaty locks. “Rest for a moment and then we try again.”
Jasmine could only grunt as she burrowed deeper into Patricia’s arms.
She woke later to the sound of Patricia having an intense conversation over her phone.
“I said no…In that that case, you’ll have to make another plan…Brandon, please don’t try my patience…If they want you there then they can pick you up and drop you off…You know I can’t very well say yes…Exactly…Brandon, it’s not my car and I can’t give you permission to take it…Then call her or ask your sister to drop you off…She’s a girl and like’s pink. If you don’t want to be dropped off in a girly pink Beetle, then I suggest you take a cab…Or call your mother and ask her. Let me know what you’ve decided. OK…..Love you too.”
She heard a soft sigh as the blonde hung up and rolled over. Patricia gasped when she found herself a hairsbreadth from Jasmine face.
“Too close?” Patricia teased even as she closed the small gap to kiss Jasmine.
“Too beautiful,” Jasmine responded after the kiss and pulled away. “What time is it?”
“It think it’s…”
Jasmine frowned when the shrill ringing of her phone interrupted them. She rolled over and grabbed the phone. “Hello…She didn’t say anything…No…What do you mean why?...Whose fault is it that your car broke down?...No you cannot use my car, Brandon. Ask Alicia to drop you…Then take a cab…It’s…” She looked at the screen of the phone. “….eleven twenty on Valentine’s Day for crying out loud. Find a way to fix your transport issue. Talk to you tomorrow…I love you too.” She hung up and turned to look at the smiling blonde. She reached out and cupped her wife’s cheek.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” she said tenderly.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.”