Charity's Passion (22 page)

"What's that about?" He asks through a confused smile.

"You
are
going to miss it, maybe not all of it, but you won't be able to let it all go all at once."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe Garrett will let me kill someone every once in a while."

"There ya go," I laugh harder. "That's more like it."

The road brings us closer to the hotel and my feet are starting to hurt from all the walking.

"How much longer do you think we'll be away?" I ask.

Justin shrugs again. "Hard to say."

"Guess," I tell him. "If you had to say it, what does your gut tell you? Don't think—just answer."

"Not much longer," he says quickly. "Everything is happening so fast now. No one wants it to go on much longer, not us—and certainly not Marker."

During the last call home, Garrett had told him Franco was about to have a complete fucking fit. He wants us back now. Without John Roberts, Franco is losing control over the group and Senator Lewis. He believes there will be another threat to the Vice President soon if we don't return.

We're not letting that affect us and our patience. We're the target here and Franco can suck it.

A short time later we make it back to our room, sleep as much as we could expect, and check out in the morning.

Another train ride is bringing us into Florence in under an hour and a half. The ride is much cleaner and more comfortable than any train I've been on in the states.

Justin has been staring at me for a bit with wicked thoughts on his mind. His smile alone is making me wet and tingly. I want to know what he's thinking, I want him to show me.

I cross my legs tightly hoping for some relief.

"I think I should make you cum on the train," he says at last.

My face blushes instantly.

"There's no one close enough to hear me," he says.

I look around and confirm that he's right.

"Get up and go to the bathroom," he demands.

"Justin—"

"Get up," he repeats. "You know you want to cum for me, so why argue? I will follow behind you. When I knock, let me in."

I think about protesting one more time. Then I realize how incredibly dumb that would be.

Ignoring the heat in my red cheeks, I move into the aisle and begin walking toward a bathroom. Some faces I pass notice me, but most never bother to look up. This should be easier than I was thinking. I find one and go inside to wait.

Barely a minute later there's a knock on the door as promised. Carefully, I open it to check and Justin pushes into the tiny room easily. The wicked look on his face makes me gush into my panties as my body yearns for him.

Justin doesn't let me speak at all. His mouth crushes to my lips, his eager tongue stabbing against mine as his insistent hands grab at my pants, unbuttoning them and ripping down the zipper. When they're free, he stops our kiss and yanks them down to my ankles along with my underwear, lifts me onto the edge of the sink, and hikes my knees up nearly to my chin so that my warrior is fully exposed and open to him.

Standing beside me, he pulls my face back to his and lets his other hand explore my heat. He runs fingers through my hungry folds, dowsing them in my fluids then they slide into me.

I have to break our kiss again, doing my best to turn my shout into a more concealing moan. Two fingers hook into my G-spot and vigorously stroke it in and out as more wetness flows from me.

"Tell me how much you like this!" He whispers. "Admit that you can already feel an orgasm building because you wanted this before you even got out of your chair."

"It's true!" I plead. "I love what you do to me and I want you to make me cum all over your hand. Fuck me with your fingers!"

Using my hair, he pulls my mouth back to him to kiss me while his hand pumps me over and over, torturing and daring my climax. The small space fills with the sounds of our breathing and sloppy wet noises from between my legs as our tongues swirl around each other.

We both know there isn't much time. He wants to make me cum for him and revel in that satisfaction—and its working!

My inner pulsing and throbbing increases, matching the thumping of the racing train, until it makes me want to scream. His hand is dripping and that fuels him. Suddenly his hands slamming into me, those two fingers hooked straight into my spot without any pause between thrusts.

I grab onto his upper arm, not to control him, but simply to feel the flexing muscles and the effort behind them to get me off.

My volcano erupts. Justin stifles my scream by pressing his mouth tightly to mine so that it can't escape. I just keep pulling on his arm and riding his fingers through wave after wave of orgasm while the wet sounds echo to our ears.

I can't even hold his arm any longer. I hold one hand on the sink's faucet and the other on Justin's shirt while doing everything in my power not to fall off the counter as my hips buck and thrust uncontrollably.

I'm not even kissing Justin back at this point, he's kissing me, but I'm just moaning into his mouth.

My climax finally crests and my vaginal muscles quiver on his pumping fingers as they slow in time with my breathing. He reads my body perfectly, knowing exactly when to stop and remove his hand and let our mouths separate again.

Justin is smiling proudly as I lean back against the mirror for a moment of spent contentment.

"That was amazing," I admit.

I notice the huge bulge in the front of his pants but before I can offer to relieve him he reminds me, "This was just for you. We don't have time for anything else." He helps me off the counter and pulls my pants back up for me.

He washes his hands quickly. "Take a few moments to gather yourself,” he says. "Then no one will notice us come out of the same door. I'll meet you back at our seat." He places a hand on the side of my face so that his fingers wrap around my ear and he kisses me seductively.

I'll give him this one, but I'm going to take care of him later. After he leaves I splash some water on my face and make sure my pants are right. After a deep breath, I try to listen through the door to make sure I'm alone. I can only hear the rhythm of the train grinding on its rails.

When I step out no one is around to notice. The breath I'd been holding finally eases from my chest and I walk back the way I came earlier. I meet Justin back at the seat where we exchange dirty little smiles for the rest of the ride.

From the train we jump into a taxi and we are checked into the Florence hotel before lunch.

"What's the first thing you want to see in Florence?" Justin asks as soon as we put our bags down in the room. He has an expression that tells me he knows exactly what I'm going to say.

"David! More than anything else I'd love to see the statue of David," I bellow.

His expression is confirmed.

"We have a private guide picking us up in less than an hour," he says. "We're starting with David, then the Cathedral and the Basilica. So get ready."

Squeal!

IT'S SUNNY AND A
little cooler up here than most of the trip has been, but still so beautiful. We're extremely worn from the busy day, there was a lot crammed into a small window of time and we're still finishing at the Basilica.

We have some time in Florence tomorrow to relax and enjoy before the next train up to Venice. For now, I'm staring in awe at the tomb of Michelangelo which I had no idea we would be seeing.

Justin's mood is slowly changing and I know exactly what it means now, I've seen it enough times since we've been traveling.

"You have to check-in tonight, don't you?" I ask.

He nods his head and tries a smile that fails.

"Why don't we start heading back?" I offer as I take his strong hand with mine.

"There's still more to see," he says.

I pull him anyway. "Honestly, babe, I'm spent." He laughs at me. "I mean it, I'm so damn tired I could fall over and go to sleep right here. Let's call it a day. I want a shower and room service like you wouldn't believe."

"I wonder if I can just get a simple burger at the hotel," Justin says. "If I have any more pizza or pasta I might actually OD."

"Oh hell yeah! I'd settle for some chicken fingers or a turkey sandwich, just anything that doesn't have marinara or garlic. It's all been amazing, but I need a break."

It feels so good to be on the same page with each other.

Our guide is standing about twenty yards behind, letting us have time to look. "Are you ready to move on?" He asks in his thick accent.

We explain to him that he's been wonderful, but that we're tired and ready to leave. Really we were almost done, so he has no problem stopping and leading us to his car with a wide toothy grin. He's much quieter on the ride back, respectively giving us a break.

Thank Christ—there is a burger on the menu for room service! Justin looks happy enough to cry. It's infused with gorgonzola cheese, but so the hell what, it's a burger.

We order and take turns in the shower as we wait. I'm thinking about Marker when the door is knocked on firmly, and for a moment I forget we're expecting room service. The fear and stress our life had been before this trip are still right there waiting for me, and as I remember this will be our food, I remind myself this is no vacation—this is a trap.

Tonight, we eat sprawled across the bed in our bathrobes and it's the most comfortable meal in a week or more. We pay way too much for an old movie to kill time before the call. I've curled myself up into the warm space under his arm for the movie. Both of us feel practically normal tonight, but it isn't meant to last.

When the movie ends, Justin grabs the burner phone with a heavy sigh. "Ready?" He asks.

"As much as I will be."

He dials and I imagine the call as a bolt of lightning traveling over phones lines and being bounced around connections and redirects. Justin rolls his eyes impatiently while he waits for Garrett to pick up.

It feels like too much time passing. There's suddenly an air of concern around him, but he continues to wait.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Justin slides the phone away from his mouth so he can answer me. "He's not picking up," He says.

He hangs up when the voicemail begins.

"Give it a minute and try again," I tell him. I can hear the desperation in my own voice.

His insides are on fire and I can practically see him counting the seconds away. He sits up, getting ready for more disappointment.

Even I can't wait any longer. "Try again!" I demand.

Justin punches the buttons on the phone and it's it back to his ear. More waiting.

The hair is up on my neck.

Another unanswered attempt.

"Maybe he forgot," I blurt out. I regret saying it even before Justin's annoyed glare.

Garrett would never forget a check-in. He missing along with the others.

"I can call Trisha," I offer helpfully.

"No," Justin shrugs. "At best she'll tell you she hasn't seen him in a day or two."

"And at worst?" I ask.

"At worst she starts asking questions—where you are, where we've been—things you can't answer on her line."

He's right. She doesn't know what we're doing, what we're going through, and she'll be excited to hear from me. Trisha will ask things that I can't answer, and if I'm not honest with her she will pick up on it. Marker will certainly be listening and waiting for any information that can put him on our trail.

"He's gone—just like the others," Justin says flatly. "We already know it; we don't have to confirm it. Nothing else would make him miss my call."

THIS MORNING JUSTIN LEFT
me in the room after we checked in and got settled while he went down to the guest computers in the business center. He didn't say exactly why, but I know it’s important and our lives literally do depend on it.

When he returns there is no change in his face. "Nothing," he is all he says to me about it.

I'm beyond curious. "What did you do?" I ask.

Suddenly its JP staring at me, letting me know that is something he's not going to tell me, not unless he has to. Right now he doesn't have to.

I let it go. There's no dealing with JP. "So what do we do now?"

"Exactly what we were planning. This is Venice, and it may be our only day here. I promised you a real gondola ride and, damn it, it's going to happen."

That makes me smile, breaking some of the tension filling the room, which allows me like it even more. The guest rooms at the Hotel Metropole are just luxurious. Our bed has an ornate, gold colored headboard with drapery swooping down the wall above it. The furniture all matches the headboard perfectly, and the thick curtains drastically change the room from dark and romantic to airy and beautiful when you open them.

I'm in love with the place.

It also has a private canal entrance and it only takes us a few minutes of walking to find a gondolier. After only a handful of minutes dealing with Justin the young man has agreed to a price to be our private gondolier for the entire day, taking us over the Grand Canal and all of the favorite back canals that are much more romantic and quiet.