After what felt like hours (but only about fifteen minutes), Jackson found himself near the party's edge. He leaned against a tree. This was hopeless. He didn't even know what he was looking for.
"Quantum Quill," he hissed, feeling slightly ridiculous talking to thin air. "A little help here? Who am I supposed to be looking for?" Nothing. Not even a peep. "Great," Jackson groaned. "Just great. I'm at a fancy party, talking to myself like a lunatic, trying to find a woman I can't even identify. This is definitely how I pictured my Sunday night going." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that probably made him look less like a 'debonair secret agent' and more like a 'frazzled office worker on a bender'. A group of giggling women walked by, giving him curious looks. He tried to smile charmingly, but he felt it came out more like a grimace. They hurried past, whispering and glancing back at him. "And now I'm the creepy guy at the party,"The question caught him off guard. He'd been so focused on figuring her out that he hadn't considered his endgame. "I..." he stammered, his mind racing. Should he be honest? Play it cool? Make a joke? Natalia raised an eyebrow, waiting. "To be honest," he finally said, combining truth and bravado, "I was hoping it might be you." "What makes you sure I'll agree to go with you?" He grinned, feeling a bit more confident now. "I'm not sure at all. But I'm willing to take my chances." "Oh really? And what exactly are you asking me to take a chance on?" "Just a drink," he said, keeping his tone light. "No hidden agenda, no strings attached. Just a drink." She looked at him skeptically, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Just a drink?" "Just a drink," he repeated. She laughed softly. "Alright, Jackson. One drink. But no more than that." "I promise. Just one drink." "Well then, where ar
Jackson and Natalia stepped into the hotel's opulent lobby, the sudden shift from the cool night air to the warm interior sending a shiver down Jackson's spine. Or it was just Natalia's presence next to him. He couldn't be sure anymore. "Fancy," she remarked, eyes scanning the marble floors and crystal chandeliers. "You certainly know how to impress a girl." He smirked. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet." He guided her towards the bar, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The contact sent sparks through his fingertips, and he wondered if she felt it, too. The bar was dimly lit, with dark wood and leather furniture, and soft jazz played in the background. Jackson spotted an empty booth in the corner and steered them towards it. "After you," he said, gesturing for Natalia to slide in first. She raised an eyebrow. "Such a gentleman. Or do you just want to block my escape route?" He chuckled, sliding across from her. "Can't it be both?" She rolled her eyes, but her
Jackson signaled for the waiter. "I'll take care of the bill," he said, sliding his credit card across the counter. "Very generous," Natalia commented, leaning against the bar and watching him bemusedly. He shrugged. Once the bill was settled, they made their way to the reception desk. Jackson approached the receptionist, who looked up with a professional smile. "Good evening, sir. How can I assist you?" "I'd like to book one of your luxurious suites for tonight," Jackson said smoothly. The receptionist's fingers danced across the keyboard. "Of course, sir. May I see your ID?" Jackson handed over his driver's license, and within moments, he was handed a sleek key card. "Your suite is on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Enjoy your stay." "Oh, we will," Natalia purred. They moved toward the elevator, the soft carpet muffling their footsteps. As they waited for the elevator doors to open, Jackson couldn't help but admire Natalia's silhouette against the polished gold tri
Jackson took his time, relishing the journey. His hand slid beneath her dress, feeling the smooth fabric give way to the heat of her skin. As his fingers traced upwards, they encountered the thin band of her panties. He paused, looking at her for any sign of hesitation. "Don't stop now," she whispered, eyes blazing. His fingers slipped beneath the delicate lace, feeling the damp heat of her pussy. She sucked in a breath, a mix of surprise and pleasure flashing across her face. "So wet already?" he murmured. "What can I say? You've got a way about you." His fingers teased her folds, slipping quickly between the slickness. She sighed, leaning into his touch, her legs parting slightly to give him better access. Jackson leaned in, closing the distance between them and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their lips melded together, hungry and insistent. Her tongue darted out, meeting his in a slow, sensual dance. He tangled his free hand in her hair, pulli
Jackson gently placed her on the bed, watching as she sprawled before him like a feast for a starving man. Her red dress was bunched around her waist, and he quickly worked to peel it off completely, leaving her in nothing but those tantalizing black panties. Natalia lay sprawled out on the bed, a mix of desire and mischief glinting in her eyes. "Enjoying the view?" she teased, arching an eyebrow. "More than you know," he replied, his voice husky with need. Jackson spread her legs wide with a deliberate slowness that drove her wild. He admired the sight of her, taking in every inch of her exposed skin and the way her panties clung to her curves. The thin lace was already damp with her arousal, and he couldn't resist running his thumb over the wet spot. Jackson hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and slid them aside, revealing the glistening folds of her pussy. He lowered his head without hesitation, his tongue darting out to taste her. "Fuck!" s
Jackson slid over her, finding her mouth with his. The kiss was a clash of hunger and heat, leaving them both breathless. Her skin seared beneath his touch, soft in all the right places as his hands roamed freely. They found her tits, gripped them, thumbs grazing over nipples that hardened instantly. "Yessss…" She arched into his touch, her moan vibrating against his lips. "Spread those legs for me," he murmured against her mouth. Her thighs parted in answer, giving him room. He positioned himself between them, feeling the wet heat of her pussy radiating need. He took himself in hand, rubbing the tip of his cock along her slit, gathering her slickness on his skin. "Please," she whispered, a delicious desperation slipping into her voice. Aiming true, he pushed forward, the head of his cock slipping past her folds. Her molten heat enveloped him, inviting him deeper. He wasted no time, driving into her with a force she'd remember. She gasped, but it was qu
Natalia turned to face him, propping herself up on one elbow. Her hair was a mess, her makeup slightly smudged, but somehow, she looked even more beautiful than before. "You know," she said, tracing lazy patterns on his chest with her finger, "when I saw you at first, I never would have guessed you'd be such a wild man in bed." He laughed, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises." "Clearly," she agreed with a wicked smile. "Though I have to wonder... where did you learn all those moves? You some kind of secret sex guru or something?" "Yeah, right. More like years of trial and error." "Whatever the reason, it's certainly paid off. That was some of the best sex I've had in a long time." "Oh, I'm not finished with you yet," he said, pulling her closer. She raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'll stick around for an encore?" He grinned, his hand tracing lazy circles on her hip. "Call it a hunch. Plus,
Jackson lay awake, staring at the ornate ceiling of the hotel suite. The room was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow from the city lights filtering through the sheer curtains. Natalia slept peacefully in his arms, her warm, bare skin pressed against his. He couldn't help but marvel at his life's surreal turn. Just weeks ago, he was a nobody, scraping paycheck to paycheck. Now, he was in a luxurious hotel suite with a stunning woman in his bed. It felt like a dream he feared waking up from at any moment. Natalia stirred slightly, mumbling something incomprehensible in her sleep. Jackson smiled, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She truly was breathtaking, even in slumber. As if on cue, Quantum Quill's voice chimed in his head. "Well done, darling. You've managed to charm your way through all of today's tasks. I must say, I'm impressed." "Gee, thanks. I live for your approval." "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, darling. But I'll let it slide this time. Your reward will be c
Jackson took another sip of whiskey, savoring the burn. Sometimes, in the quiet moments between Quantum Quill's ridiculous tasks, he wondered if he was dreaming. Maybe he was stuck in some bizarre video game, or there was a glitch in the matrix. Any moment now, he half-expected to wake up in his old life, nine years in the past. The thought made him pause. What if he did wake up? Jackson's mind wandered, imagining the scenario playing out differently. What if he hadn't left the apartment that fateful day? What if he'd walked in on Veronica and that bastard, caught in the act? He pictured himself bursting through the bedroom door, rage coursing through his veins. There was a look of shock on Veronica's face, her legs still wrapped around the stranger's waist. The bastard's smug grin faded as Jackson's fist connected with his jaw. God, it would've felt good to knock that asshole's teeth out. Maybe grab that tacky baseball bat Veronica insisted on keeping by the bed - "for protection,
Jackson leaned against the polished mahogany bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks. The ice clinked against the glass as he sipped, savoring the smoky flavor. Isabella sat across from him, her legs crossed elegantly as she sipped a brightly colored cocktail. "So," Jackson drawled, "where's your boyfriend? What was his name again? Mike? Mitch?" "Mark. And he's on his way." "Ah, right. Mark." He nodded sagely as if he'd known all along. "The elusive Mark. You know, I'm starting to think he might be imaginary." "Please. As if I'd need to make up a boyfriend." "I don't know," he teased. "Maybe you're just trying to make me jealous." "Oh, you wish." she flicked a cocktail napkin at him. "Trust me, Mark is very real. And very late, apparently." He glanced at his watch. "How long have you been waiting?" "Only about twenty minutes," she sighed. "He texted saying he got held up at work." "Ah, the old 'held up at work' excuse," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Classic." Isabella smacked
Jackson reached for his phone again, scrolling through his contacts until he found Gabriella's number. His thumb hovered over it for a moment, hesitation battling curiosity. "Fuck it," he decided, hitting the call button before he could talk himself out of it. The phone rang once, twice. On the third ring, Gabriella's sultry voice purred through the speaker. "Missing me already, handsome?" "You know, most people start with 'hello.'" "Most people are boring," she countered. "But I'm guessing you didn't call just to critique my phone etiquette. What's on your mind?" "Actually, I called to ask you something," he said, trying to keep his tone casual. "You wouldn't happen to know a guy named William, would you?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, just long enough to kick Jackson's heart rate up a notch. "William?" she repeated, her voice suddenly neutral. "That's a pretty common name. You'll have to be more specific." "He's a pub owner. Tall guy, kinda looks like he co
Jackson pulled into the parking lot, still feeling the afterglow of his encounter with Gabriella. As he stepped out of the car, he winced, his body reminding him of their vigorous activities. "Note to self: stretching is important," he muttered, rubbing his lower back. He went to the elevator, grateful for the privacy, as he tried to smooth out his rumpled clothes and tame his hair. The last thing he needed was to run into one of his nosy neighbors, looking like he'd been dragged through a hedge backward. As the elevator doors opened on his floor, Jackson fished his keys out of his pocket, fumbling with them as he approached his door. He paused, listening for any signs of unexpected visitors or mysterious voices in his head. Hearing nothing but blessed silence, he let out a relieved sigh and stepped inside. The cool air of his penthouse hit him like a refreshing wave, and Jackson kicked off his shoes, not bothering to line them up neatly. He shuffled towards the kitchen, his legs
Victor grabbed a smaller piece off a nearby pedestal - some twisted metal thing that was supposed to represent... well, who knew what - and swung it like a baseball bat. It connected with the guard's head with a dull thunk, and the man crumpled to the floor. The larger guard was back on his feet and looked murderous. He pulled out a knife, its blade glinting in the overhead lights. "Really?" Victor scoffed. "A knife to a... whatever this is fight?" He waggled the metal sculpture. "That hardly seems fair." The guard lunged, slashing wildly. Victor danced back, his movements fluid and practiced. He'd been in enough fights to know that anger made people sloppy. Sure enough, the guard overextended on his next swing. Victor seized the opportunity, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting hard. The knife fell from nerveless fingers. Victor followed up with a swift knee to the solar plexus, driving the air from the guard's lungs. As the man doubled over, gasping, Vict
The convoy of black SUVs rolled through the city streets like a funeral procession, if funeral processions were led by pissed-off crime bosses with a vengeance on their minds. Victor sat in the back of the lead vehicle, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on his knee. They pulled up to Marco's office building, a gleaming glass and steel monstrosity. Victor scoffed. "Looks like our boy's been living large on our dime." The moment Victor's polished shoes hit the pavement, he was all business. He straightened his tie and marched towards the entrance, flanked by Tony and six of his most trusted men. They looked like a pack of well-dressed wolves closing in on their prey. But their path was suddenly blocked by a burly security guard with a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp. "Hold it right there," he growled, holding up a meaty palm. "I know who you are, and you're not welcome here." Victor raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Not welcome? I th
Victor stood on the first tee of his private golf course, squinting against the morning sun. He gripped his driver, the weight familiar in his hands. The fairway stretched out before him, a lush green carpet inviting him to forget the stresses of his criminal empire, if only for a few hours. "Alright, you little white bastard," he muttered to the golf ball, "let's see if you cooperate today." He took a practice swing, his muscles remembering the motion. Victor had always found golf to be a peculiar sport for a man in his line of work. There was something almost comical about a feared crime boss fussing over a tiny white ball. He lined up his shot, took a deep breath, and swung. The satisfying crack of the club meeting the ball echoed across the course. Victor watched the ball soar through the air, arcing gracefully and then veering sharply to the left, disappearing into a cluster of trees. "Son of a," he bit off the curse, reminding himself that this was supposed to be relaxing. H
They collapsed together in a tangled heap of limbs and sweat, panting heavily as they came down from their shared high. Jackson's heart raced, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Gabriella lay sprawled across him, her hair a wild mess, tickling his nose. "Well," she said, her voice muffled against his chest, "I'd say that was a successful morning workout." "Beats the hell out of jogging." "Mmm, agreed," she purred, tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Though I might need a nap now." "Already? I thought you arms dealers were supposed to have stamina," he teased. She lifted her head, fixing him with a mock glare. "Careful, darling. I might just have to prove you wrong." "Is that a threat or a promise?" "Why not both?" She grinned wickedly, then grimaced as she shifted. "Oof. I think my leg's asleep." "Sexy." "Oh, shut up," she grumbled, smacking his chest playfully. She attempted to untangle herself but only managed to elbow him in the ribs and knee him in a rath
Gabriella watched him with predatory interest as he quickly stripped out of his clothes. Each discarded piece revealed more of his toned physique, which had her licking her lips in anticipation. "Look at you," she teased, her hand reaching out to stroke his burgeoning erection. "Like a goddamn Greek statue." His cock twitched in her palm as she wrapped her fingers around him, marveling at the heft and heat of him. "Bet this thing's getting named after Aphrodite," she remarked with a wicked grin. "Just waiting for Aphrodite herself to worship it," he shot back. She laughed, lunging forward to plant a quick, hungry kiss on his lips. Then she turned, sashaying over to the couch with a deliberately exaggerated hips sway. "Come on, Greek god," she called over her shoulder, her voice leaving no room for argument. He followed obediently, equal parts amused and aroused. She nearly pounced on the couch, reaching into the drawer of the end table to retrieve a con