Here’s a little sample from the current work in progress, Honeytrap. What’s it all about? One word – sexspionage! Christie Russell joins the Honeytrap division, on a mission to seduce and destroy enemies of the state. But only if she can survive training with the incorrigible Jack Masters first!
Join them at the shooting range, where Jack’s teaching Christie how to fire a gun…
Jack pressed the button again and the target trundled back down to the far end of the range.
‘Stand back and watch,’ he said.
Christie did as she was bid and Jack picked up a far bigger handgun than the one she was using and assumed the position. He squinted for a second and then let of five shots in quick succession. Christie felt the report of the gunfire echo through the range and thud through her chest. Jack put the gun down almost immediately and took of his ear guards.
‘That’s how you do it,’ he said.
Christie pressed the button to bring the target in. There was one hole, just to the left of centre of the target’s chest, right through its heart.
‘One out of five,’ she said.
‘Five out of five,’ said Jack. ‘Bang on target.’
‘Every fortnight for fifteen years. Yes, seriously.’
Christie picked up her gun again.
‘Breathe slowly,’ said Jack. ‘Bring your heart rate down so your pulse doesn’t make you tremor.’
Christie stood for a moment at the rail with her gun hand hanging loose by her side. She relaxed her shoulders, softened her knees, and paused between breaths. When she felt perfectly still, she raised her arms and lined the gun up once more with the target. She remained still and quiet again, letting her body settle. Breathe in. Breathe out.
She smelled Jack close to her before she felt his arms come from behind to steady hers. His chin came over her shoulder and his face almost pressed up against hers as he aligned himself as much as possible to check her aim.
‘A bit higher,’ he said.
Christie struggled to keep her breathing slow and deep. The muscles of her arms locked as she wrestled her concentration back to the target.
It was almost a whisper, brushing against her ear like a breath. She loosed two rounds in quick succession and stopped.
‘Better,’ he said.
He slid one of his arms forward along hers and took the gun from her hand, putting it down on the flat, narrow top of the railing in front of them. Christie took a deep breath, revelling in the familiar scent, and felt his breath, warm and moist, on her neck. She didn’t care that this wasn’t supposed to be happening. As soon as she was close to this man she was overcome with desire, intoxicated by the smell of him, drawn to the heat of his body.
‘Yes, sir.’ She leaned forward, placing her hands on the rail to support her weight.
Jack’s hands dropped to her waist and she felt the warmth of his chest against her back. He kissed the side of her neck and Christie felt a tightening low within her. Her legs turned to water and all she could think about was Jack’s hands moving up inside her shirt. But he kept them still where they were, quietly moving his lips up to the junction of her jawbone and her throat. Christie moaned and arched her neck back. She wanted to turn her head and kiss him properly but something inside told her not to.
In a blur of movement Jack’s arm was across her throat, constricting her windpipe and crushing her against his chest. She raised her hands to try and pull his arm away but he was too strong for her.
‘Jack!’ she blurted out through gritted teeth.
He pushed her away and stepped back. She turned to look at him, gasping for breath, all her muscles clenched tight with anger.
‘By the time I’ve finished training you, Christie, something like that will never happen,’ he said. ‘Now, take another shot.’
With her breathing still ragged, Christie picked up the gun again. She tried to lock her arms in the firing position but her hands were shaking. She closed her eyes to centre herself but her heart was racing. The air was drenched with the smell of Jack.
Two more shots rang out but the paper target didn’t flinch.
‘That’s how you’ll feel when you need to take a shot in the field,’ said Jack. ‘It’ll be too fast. You’ll be frightened. If you don’t pull the trigger, you’ll take a bullet. Reload and do it again.’
And again. And again. Jack made her shoot at her paper assailant until the muscles in her arms were burning, her eyes could hardly see straight and her ears were ringing with the sound of shot after shot, despite the ear protectors. Finally, she fumbled badly as she reloaded and dropped the gun. It skittered under the rail and out onto the range.
She slumped against the guard rail to catch her breath and then bent down to reach underneath it.
‘Leave it, Christie. Never go past the rail.’
He caught hold of her upper arm and pulled her up, toward him. Exhausted, she couldn’t quite get her balance and leaned in against his chest.
‘Sorry,’ she said, trying to pull away. But he held her steady.
Jack’s eyes…so blue.
‘For not being the girl you thought I was.’
She tried to turn her head but his gaze held her still.
‘Christie, I didn’t take you on for the girl I thought—know—you are. I took you on for the girl I can make you into. But you’ve got to stop fighting me every step of the way. You’ve got to make up your mind if this is what you want.’
‘It’s what I want, Jack.’
Christie didn’t even have to think about it. Then his lips were on hers and her tongue came out to meet his just as quickly as he pushed it against her mouth. His skin was hot under her fingers as she pulled up his polo shirt to caress his back and he moaned as they stumbled together against the rail.
‘There are only so many times a man can stop himself,’ he murmured against her cheek.
‘Then don’t,’ said Christie. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and slipped her hands down the back of his jeans. His hips ground into hers, pushing his erect cock against her stomach.
‘Turn round and bend over the rail,’ he said.
Blood roaring in her ears, breath rasping in her throat, Christie draped herself over the guard rail. Jack stood behind her and slowly pushed her short skirt up her thighs and then over the curve of her arse. His hands caressed her buttocks, making her whimper as he slid her briefs down in the opposite direction.
‘God, your arse is a heartbreaker,’ he murmured.
Christie laughed but the sound of his flies unzipping slammed her right back into the moment. Fingers worked their way into her with ease—she was already wet. Damn it, she’d been wet when they got in the car to drive over here and Jack had done nothing since to make her dry up. With one hand he continued to finger her, while his other hand found its way up inside her blouse. He pushed her bra roughly up, over her breasts, and then caught one of them in his hand, pinching her nipple. Feeling the naked skin of his cock pressing against her thigh, Christie pushed her hips back against him so he would know what she wanted. As if he didn’t already…