Christine's eyes shot open. The ceiling came into view for a second before her gaze darted to her left, towards Sam's nightstand. And there it was, his damn phone, buzzing away, inching closer to the edge.

She couldn't reach it, but still she stretched her hand as much as possible without moving the rest of her body. Because moving it was impossible at the moment.

It was so hard to focus on her task, but she had to do it. She had to stop it before Sam realized it was ringing and stopped what he was doing.

A low moan escaped her lips and she closed her eyes for a second. God, he'd gotten so good at this. Which was why she had to make sure he wouldn't stop.

Just a little bit further...

"What are you doing?" Sam appeared above her, mischief in his eyes, trapping her effectively between his arms.

"Nothing," she breathed. "Why are you up here?"

He chuckled and resumed his previous spot, earning another moan out of her. The phone had stopped ringing.

Please, whoever you are, get the hint.

She closed her eyes again, losing herlsef in the pleasure, in the feel of his skin against hers. This was going to be it. She was sure about it. After two years, this was finally going to be it and he wouldn't stop. Wouldn't pull away out of the blue, wouldn't leave her craving for more.

The phone started ringing again.

Biting back a scream of rage, she grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at the nightstand. It fell to the floor together with the phone which was now thankfully muffled by both the carpet and the pillow.

"You okay?" Sam mumbled against her thigh.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Just getting a bit overexcited."

He came back on top of her to look her in the eyes, his smile now tender. And the way he watched her had her breath hitching in her throat. So much had changed about him, about them, over the years.

Even if he'd always been handsome, growing up had only made him better. His skin was smooth and tanned, stretched over muscles from all the physical training he did. His features had sharpened a little as he lost the last of his boyish traits and became a man. And she loved it. His face, his body, his confidence, the way he looked at her as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

He did know. After two years of excruciatingly slow practice, he had become an expert at doing it all without actually doing anything. But that was about to change. She felt it in his touch, in the way he moved, in the way he looked at her.

"I'm sorry," he muttered instead.

"Ah, hell no, Sam Grant! You're not going anywhere!" She put both hands on the back of his head and pulled him towards her.

He laughed into her skin, the warmth of his breath sending a pleasant tingle down her spine. "Not the kind of sorry I meant. I'm not going anywhere. But I can't keep doing this. I've really tried, but I can't anymore."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but if you don't finish what you started..."

The rest of her phrase was covered with a kiss, the kind that sent her mind spinning and was usually foreplay for what they were already doing. No more foreplay.

"I intend to," he muttered before he kissed her again, his arms tightening around her, pressing his entire body against hers.

And Christine just wanted to scream with gratitude and happiness. It was finally happening. It was finally--

"Youch! Fuck!" Sam rolled off her, shaking his wrist. His watch was blinking with a red light that spoke of danger.

Her heart hammered in her chest for the seconds it took the blinking red light to become green. Then she just wanted to yell in frustration.

Sam's attention was no longer on her. He frowned at the nightstand, then picked his phone off the floor. It was vibrating again, and this time, he answered.

"You really didn't have to do that," he mumbled, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he grabbed his pants.

Christine sat up, pulling the cover over herself, waiting to hear whose coffee she would be trying to poison.

"It's called having a life, Herrison," Sam said, exasperated, buttoning his jeans. "And no, I did not sign up for a twenty-four-seven work schedule." He hummed as Herrison kept talking on the other end if the line.

Christine's shoulders slumped. She knew what this meant. It had happened too often over the past few months. Herrison had a lead. Which meant Sam would disappear for at least a couple of days.

"Are you sure this time?" Sam asked. His t-shirt was clutched in his hands since he was unable to pull it on without putting the phone down. "Okay, but this better be it. I feel like we're moving around in circles." And he ended the call and put the t-shirt on.

"How long?" Christine mumbled.

"Just three days." He leaned over the bed a kissed her. "I'm really sorry."

She put her hands on his face to keep him there as long as possible. "I hate that this keeps happening, but I understand."

"Thanks. And don't go anywhere. When I come back, we're picking up where we left off."

"You'd better believe it!" She smiled as he picked up a large backpack from the closet, gave her one last kiss and was out the door.

The moment she heard the door closing, the smile left her face and she dropped back into the pillows. Yes, Sam always had his bags packed, ready to go at a moment's notice as clues regarding Snitch Gravel and his closest men surfaced. They'd been trying to get some dirt on Von Crooken for over a year, and Sam was now working relentlessly on catching Eye Patch and tracing Snitch Gravel's resources. Cut his supplies and weaken him.

But it was so exhausting. Sam was always so busy between college and the Agency. He also enjoyed spending a lot of time with his brothers and their girlfriends. Not that Christine had a problem with that. They were her friends as well and being part of a large group of close-knit friends was very pleasant.

She just wished they'd spend more time together alone. Maybe then she could figure out just why the hell he wouldn't sleep with her already. Though, this time, it really felt like he intended to.

Not the first time.

She rubbed her arms. Being with Sam sometimes resembled being alone way too much. And she hated it. Loneliness, being just another one of the girls. His trophy girlfriend. And all the times he'd left her like this... Like a toy he could discard because he didn't want her, not really.

She picked up her phone and looked at it. From her wallpaper, she and Sam smiled, so happy together. And in some moments, they were. She felt fulfilled and happy. But those moments were so quick to disappear. Her novelty had worn off and she'd fallen for him so hard, it was impossible to play hard to get anymore.

With a sigh, she opened her messages.

He's gone again.

The answer came almost instantly. For how long?

Three days.

Want me to come over?

Her hands hovered over the keyboard. Tears filled her eyes as she watched those five little words. She could imagine the worried tone behind them so well and it killed her. But she needed it and she hated crying.

Yes.

♠️

Kay wiped the glass mechanically, her eyes taking in the club, searching for their target. Sarajevo was packed for the night, as it had been for the past couple of weeks, ever since the founder of the nightclub came to town. She could already see him at the only table which rose above the madly dancing masses.

"Target is in," Tom said.

Kay didn't make a move to show someone had spoken into her ear, but her eyes narrowed as she tried even harder to see him.

"Are you sure?"

"No, Kay, I'm lying to you, because I'm so bored, it's the only fun I can have," he replied.

"You'd better not," Angie muttered. Even if she was right behind Kay, it was impossible to hear her voice outside the earpiece because of the noise.

"Relax, babe. I'm not kidding. You'll see him soon enough."

Kay knew he had a point. Tom's DJ station was placed higher and to the left of the bar, much closer to the entrance, so it made sense for him to see Von Crooken and his escort first. The club somehow reminded her of the one in Tucson where Angie had taken her dancing and had met Tom, though, except for the massive hall-like room, the layout wasn't the same. The bar was at the back of the room, not to the side, and the DJ station, though still high up, was open.

It wasn't hard for Tom to snag the actual job without any interference from the Agency. He had experience and a bitching disguise as Markus Ross, a tall, handsome black guy with a velvet voice, in his early twenties, with a promising mixing career before him. It was true that Tom spent hours in make up every evening, but it was worth it. His own mother wouldn't recognize him. Kay hadn't at first either, since Tom went all out with a fake voice and swagger to match.

It hadn't been hard for her, Jessie and Angie to secure jobs as waitresses / bartenders either, though Kay sometimes feared she'd be recognized. Their disguises weren't as proficient as Tom's. Her hair was filled with fake colorful tresses, making her head look like a silky rainbow, and she wore contacts which turned her eyes from blue to a muddy brown she hated. Christine had taught her how to make her cheeks look more hollow with makeup, and she actually had a prosthetic nose on. Yes, she looked different, but wasn't unrecognizable.

Her body stayed the same, even if the club uniform of neon teal tube top and faux leather pants showed off a lot more skin than she was used to. Still tall, still curvy, with the same mannerisms. Good thing it was Von Crooken and his sub-par goons they were facing, because she was convinced Snitch Gravel would recognize her.

Jessie and Angie weren't much better off. Both of them had plastic noses, and Jessie had a blue bob wig hiding her orange hair. Angie had tried making herself the least attractive by wearing a mouth piece which gave her a serious gap tooth, putting on a big, bulbous nose, and sprinkling her cheeks with freckles. It only half worked, because it turned out a lot of people were into that look.

"Please let him be here," Jessie mumbled. " If I have to put on this disguise again tomorrow night, I think I'm going to puke."

"We need to get a better view," Angie said.

"You girls want up on the bar?" Tom asked.

Kay hated that part even more than she hated having to put on that disguise every night, but it was a mandatory part of their job and this time, it could actually be useful.

"If we must," Jessie answered with a dramatic sigh.

Her affirmation was followed by a few seconds of radio silence before the music died down and Tom's fake voice rose above the crowd.

"Yo, listen up, it's that time of the evening again. So move your peepers to the bar and give our girls some encouragement."

"Did you seriously just say peepers?" Angie asked, already climbing on the bar.

Tom just chuckled as their dance-on-the-bar-for-everyone-to-leer-at-them song started playing. Kay had no idea what the words meant or even what language it was in, probably Serbian or something, but she was so sick of that song as well. Just like she was more than fed up with climbing on the bar to rowdy applause and rude catcalls.

Jessie joined her and Angie, and the three of them started their little dance, swinging their hips and dropping down low just to raise as slowly as possible. Kay focused on the raised table and finally found Von Crooken there, sitting next to the club's owner. The asshole was leering at them just like everyone else. He seemed to have just two men with him, ones Kay knew by sight but not by codename.

"And he finally shows up," Jessie mumbled as the three of them turned with their backs to the crowd and bent to touch their ankles.

"Do you think they're finally closing the deal tonight?" Kay asked, twisting and waving her hands above her head.

"I saw some suitcases, so he must be," Angie answered. "I wonder how much he's buying and from who."

"We'll see soon enough." Kay bowed low just to get a little cleavage showing, then the three minutes of torture were finally over and they could jump off the bar.

As they did, she noticed Von Crooken kept staring at her, even as he leaned to whisper to the club owner. Bile rose to her mouth, but she swallowed it down and braced herself. She knew what this meant. It wasn't the first time she was called over to serve patrons on request. She would have rather just avoided Von Crooken altogether, even if it wasn't fair towards Jessie and Angie.

She wasn't wrong. It took one of the bouncers just a few moments to come to the bar and order the most expensive bottle of champagne to be delivered to the boss by Kay, in person. Like the good undercover agent she was, she complied.

Her hand trembled the slightest bit as she put the bottle in the chiller, but her hips stayed as steady as they could as she swayed them towards the table occupied by two despicable men.

"Be careful, sweetheart."

Kyle's voice had Kay stumbling, but she immediately regained her footing. Her gaze darted all around the place, but it was too crowded to see anything.

"Where are you?"

"Close," he answered.

"Should we be worried?" Jessie asked, reading Kyle just as well as her.

"Not if all goes well."

"You know the chances of that are close to zero," Kay muttered, her eyes fixed on Von Crooken now.

"Stop talking and focus," Kyle said. "Stavroski passed him a note while you were dancing. It's in the left inner pocket of his coat."

"Where are you?" Jessie asked, and Kay was grateful she had since she was too close to her targets to randomly start talking to herself.

It amazed her how well Kyle could blend into the crowd, as tall and remarkable looking as he was. But she'd never seen him, even if he'd been in the club with them every night, insuring much needed security.

"Nevermind," Kyle answered. "Just be ready to bolt."

Kay's muscles tensed, but she forced an alluring smile on her face as she reached the table and dropped the chiller on the table.

"Your order, gentlemen," she said, making her voice deeper and breathier.

"And who is this lovely lady?" Von Crooken asked, his disgusting gaze fixed on her chest.

"This is Tonya," Stavroski answered, his accent thick. "She hasn't been with us long, but she is a very talented... waitress."

"Really now?" Von Crooken grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. "Just how talented are we talking?"

Kay wanted to spit in his face and step on his balls until they popped, but she smiled instead and tried to look as relaxed as possible. After all, she'd seen how the other girls were treated by the higher ups. She was lucky no one had targeted her so far.

"Easy, Harkin," Stavroski said with a laugh. "Our deal doesn't include any of my girls."

Von Crooken didn't seem to be listening, his eyes roaming over Kay's body, his hands moving from her hips, up her arms and on her back, as if he wanted to test the quality of her skin.

She fought as hard as she could not to shudder, but it was getting hard. No one she hadn't allowed had ever touched her like that, made her skin crawl so badly. Come on, you can do this. He's not actually going to do anything.

"Tell you what," Von Crooken said, his eyes still on her. "I'll throw in an extra thousand if you throw in the girl."

Stavroski laughed. "She's easily worth a few hundred thousands. Just look at that body."

What am I, a freaking horse? She tried to pull away, but Von Crooken tightened his grip around her and pulled her deeper into his lap.

"For that kind of money, I'll have to test her out first." And his hands moved from her back to her shoulders, sliding down her cleavage.

An alarm started blaring in Kay's head. She'd been so stupid not to consider this might happen since she was actually counting on using her looks to come close enough to get the information. But she only had two alternatives. Let him grope her or punch him in the face and blow the mission.

Her decision became irrelevant. Before the man's hands could go any lower, someone appeared behind her. She could tell without turning around, judging only by his smell and the heat of his body that it was Kyle.

Von Crooken's eyes raised and widened with fear for a fraction of a second before Kyle's fist slammed into his face. He fell back over his seat, instantly unconscious. Kay slid her hand in the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a list while Kyle pummeled Von Crooken's goons.

Screams filled the club as Stavroski's men pulled out their guns. Kyle was fast to grab Kay's hand and pull her behind the nearest pole before the gunshots started.

"What did you do?" Kay mumbled as a rowdy bar-fight song filled the air.

"Well, Tom's having fun," Kyle said, half-amused, half-annoyed. "You got the list?"

"Yes," she said, chancing a look around the pole.

The rest of Von Crooken's guards who had been too far away to see what had really happened obviously took it as betrayal from Stavronski so the two groups were now shooting at each other.

"The exit behind the bar is safest," Jessie said over the mayhem. "Good job, Kyle."

"Do I detect sarcasm?" he asked.

Even if his voice was joyful, Kay could hear the edge behind it and knew what had happened had hit a nerve, that his anger was there, bubbling beneath the surface, empowering the darkness inside him.

"Hey, I'm okay," she said gently.

He gave her a weak smile. "I know. Doesn't make me want to tear that asshole to pieces any less."

"Yeah, about that," Tom said. "Let's get the hell out of here before they realize what actually hit them. I don't think anyone will miss this place."

Kay couldn't agree more. She was never going back to Sarajevo.

♠️♠️♠️

Hi everyone! Glad to see me this year? Well, just because I'm trigger happy and my friends were crap at talking me out of this, I decided to post the first chapter. I had it written down anyway.

So, here we are. Start of a new adventure with new issues. I'm curious if you're sensing a tone shift because I do and I'm not sure I like it 😅

Anyway. What do you think? I'm starting off with a bang! Almost literally and meaning action as well. I might post the second part later as well and have it one full chapter.

Until then... I leave you with this.

As I've mentioned before, I'm truly winging this one so your support is even more important than usual. So leave a thought or a vote and help me get my ass in gear and write more.  😅