Boosted (In The Fast Lane) (9 page)

She backed up slightly, giving him subtle encouragement to
go a little faster. He complied, though he was still making sure to be gentle
with her as best he could given his current position. He moved a little faster
until it could be seen as something resembling intercourse. Hannah knew she was
over the hump now. Each thrust was better than the last.

Brody took hold of her hips to hold her in place as he kept
increasing how fast and how hard he fucked her. It was a good thing he did so
since Hannah had almost no control of her own body anymore. All she could
manage to do was hold herself up in a wobbly stance. From her mouth came a
stream of incoherent babblings of encouragement.

Brody gave her ass cheek a slap as if to signal what was
about to come. He leaned forward to give himself more leverage and shifted into
an even more aggressive pace. Hannah’s body shook like a house in an
earthquake. Her whole body was now covered in sweat. It was the most intense
sex that she had ever experienced. Her brain was completely scrambled.

She had no more memory or concern over law school, over the
catty cruelty of her friends, and over Brody’s illegal activities. All she
could think about was the cock that was stretching the limits of her ass. She
felt and heard the slap of his pubis against the plump flesh of her ass. He
reached up, grabbed a clump of her hair near the roots, and pulled back hard.
She screamed again. At this point every one of her exhales was something
between a whimper and a wail.

Brody leaned further forward so that his chest was against
her back. He wrapped one arm around her torso and latched the other to her
shoulder. He was close, she could feel it. His thrusts took on more fury. He
was fucking her harder than ever. Her limbs had long ago turned to jelly and
she was only upright thanks to him holding her up.

The next thing she felt was the warm flow of semen shooting
deep into the depths of her ass. He pushed his cock as far as he could inside
of her as he came. Only after he had shot his complete load did Brody slowly
pull his stiff cock back through her now thoroughly used asshole.

Hannah felt like she had just run a marathon. Her body was
now a lifeless husk. Her mouth was as dry and arid as a desert. Her hair was
matted against her perspiring face. Her breath wheezed out of her lungs. Brody
laid down next to her and held her tight in his arms.

“How you holding up?” Brody whispered in her ear.

“Good,” she said. “So good.”

It was true. She’d never felt more at peace than she did in
the aftermath of having her ass pounded by his thick, long cock. Her asshole
was only now starting to retract and regain its sense of elasticity.

They fell asleep like that. She nestled into Brody so that
they slept as one body instead of two. Hannah had no idea what tomorrow would
bring. But on this night all was perfect.

THIRTEEN

Morning Revelation

Brody hadn’t planned on spending the night at Hannah’s
place. Then again, he also hadn’t expected to be fucking her ass that night
either. He suspected that they would break up that night, especially after he
told her what sort of things he’d gotten himself wrapped up in. She reacted
better than he had expected even before the sex. He was surprised when she
didn’t immediately throw him out and further taken aback when she began to kiss
him. She must have been just as hung up on him as he was on her.

He awoke the next morning before she did. Friday morning. He
had one more day to get the car and he still didn’t know how he was going to do
it. The house was too secure. Taking it by force would be out of the question.
He always had a bodyguard with him. The only time he had seen him alone was
when he went down to the carwash and…

Wait a minute. The carwash. That was the key. It was the one
time he was vulnerable. When had he gone there? Saturday? Brody had to hope
that he would do it again the next day. It would be his last chance. He still
didn’t know how he would pull it off. But he would spend the next twenty-four
hours figuring it out. That meant that he had to leave the comfort of Hannah’s
bed. He didn’t want to get up. He wanted to forget it all and stay with her. He
wanted to leave behind his responsibilities. He couldn’t though. Not yet.

He thought it would be rude to just sleep away so he shook
Hannah awake. She raised her heavy eyelids and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning. You sleep well?”

She nodded and let out a hum of assent.

“I hate to do this but I have to leave.”

“No.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Stay just a little longer.”

“Don’t you have class?”

“I don’t care about that.”

“After tomorrow,” Brody said. “Just give me one more day and
then I’ll be free. Okay?”

He leaned down and kissed her. She still didn’t seem happy
about his leaving but at least she seemed to understand why he had to go.

He retrieved his clothes and dressed.

“Are you sure you can’t stay for breakfast?”

It sounded like such a pleasant idea. He could imagine
sitting across from her, nibbling on eggs and sipping a mimosa. But again, he
had to banish the thought for the time being. One more day.

“You know how much I want to.”

“So do it!”

“Stop tempting me.”

She let out a playful laugh. “I’m not trying to force you
into anything you don’t already want to do.”

“There’s a difference between wanting to do something and
being able to do something.”

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“I know,” he said as he finished dressing. “Sunday morning.
Think of a place. Somewhere nice.”

“Okay,” she said. “I will.”

Brody leaned forward and gave her another kiss before
departing. The kiss was one of the those lingering goodbye kisses where both
participants know that it could very well be the last time that their lips ever
meet. It’s the same kind of kiss that a soldier gives his wife before a tour of
duty overseas.

“See you soon,” he said, all the while praying that it would
be true.

Upon departing Brody called up Sergei. It took him four
rings to pick up but he eventually did. Brody could tell by the sound of his
voice that he had awoken his Russian employer after only a few hours of drunken
sleep.

“I need one more day.”

“What? Who is this?”

“Brody. Listen. That package you requested. I’ll be
delivering it tomorrow afternoon and I may be coming in hot. Be ready.

Brody ended the call and tucked his phone back into his
pocket. Now to make sure that he could fulfill this brash promise. He headed
toward The Canyons, a drive which was becoming more familiar than he ever
thought it would be. He decided his first stop should be the car wash. There
was no longer any need to stake out the mansion, not until the next morning at
least.

He pulled into the car wash, which was just starting up
operations for the day. He positioned his car on the conveyor and got out. He
made sure to look around and take note of everything. The speed at which the
car went into the tunnel. The behavior of the attendants who gave the tickets.
The number of cars driving by on the street.

He made his way slowly through the inside as well. He
watched his car travel through the various stations as it was soaked, soaped,
rinsed, and dried. He paid at the register and went back outside to meet the
Impala on the other end. He watched again as the nose of his car emerged and
was quickly swarmed on by a gaggle of attendants. When the car was returned to
him he tipped one of the attendants, not too much or too little to be too well
remembered, and drove off.

His next stop would be the garage. He decided to drive three
different routes, just in case things got hot the next day. There was no reason
to think they would. After all, the colonel had gone by himself the previous
week. But he had the time to do it. Might as well take the cautious and
prepared approach.

Brody tested one highway route and two using surface
streets. It was a long hop any way you sliced it. If he were followed or had
cops on his tail it wouldn’t be easy. He had a lot of ground to cover. That’s a
lot of chances to get caught.

On the way he made sure to note detours to take where it
might be possible to hide. Tight residential neighborhoods, industrial
districts, parking garages. He hoped that he would not have to use them. But
again, it was to err on the side of caution, especially with so much on the
line.

Luckily Los Angeles was full of these little out of the way
cubby holes where a car could be stashed while the heat cooled down. It was all
a matter of timing. Panicking and going for a safe spot too early gives the
cops (or the Iranians) time to muster a search. Going too late risks obvious
exposure.

Brody then returned to the area around the car wash. He
scouted out places nearby to park the Impala that out of view of the car wash
itself. It also had to be somewhere where it wouldn’t seem too out of place. It
could be awhile before he could circle back around to pick it up again. He also
scouted storefronts near the car wash where he could linger as a pedestrian
without seeming suspicious. Unfortunately, in L.A. pedestrians were always an
unusual sight. He would have to come up with something else.

By the time he was finished with his preparations the sun
was beginning to set beneath the Pacific. The sun glowed red through the hazy
smog of the city of angels. Since he had no idea what would happen the next
day, Brody decided to treat himself to a nice dinner. He went to the nicest
steakhouse he could think of, tipped the maitre d’ to get a table, and indulged
in a porterhouse big enough to feed two. On the side he polished off an order
of creamed spinach and braised spare ribs.

He had three glasses of scotch to wash it all down. The
maitre d’, returning the favor of the generous tip, insisted that he try
dessert. Even though he was already well beyond his usual capacity, Brody
managed to finish the complimentary slice of German chocolate cake as well. He
had never been so stuffed in his life. If this proved to be his last meal it
was certainly one hell of a way to go out.

Brody went home to get a good night’s sleep. He would need
all his energy the next day. He briefly thought about calling Hannah but
quickly ruled it out. The temptation to not leave the next morning would be too
great. He also wanted to get an early start the next day and it would behoove
him to sleep in his own bed on this night. He laid his head down on the pillow
and closed his eyes. Even though he couldn’t be with her on this night, images
of Hannah still filled his dreams.

FOURTEEN

Hannah's Night

Hannah had her own preparations to make that day after Brody
had left to take care of his own. She didn’t have class until that afternoon
and was able to spend the morning catching up on her work. For the first time
all week she was able to concentrate. Her talk with Brody hadn’t exactly been
encouraging, but it at least put to bed the many questions she’d been
struggling with all week. Feeling him inside her again certainly helped to ease
her tensions as well.

It was time for her to start repairing the damage she had
done to her future career that week. She sent her adviser an email apologizing
for her actions. She caught on some of the work that she had been neglecting.
She even found a little time to give her apartment a much needed straightening
up. Her high level of productivity made her feel better about her prospects.
She took comfort in the fact that she was still capable of living a normal
life.

Her run of positive achievement continued through her class
that afternoon. She was able to pay attention and even participate in the
discussion group. It was an admirable rebound from where she had been earlier
in the week. She even began to think that she would be able to keep it up the
following week. There was no way of knowing, of course. It was always possible
that her debilitating fever over Brody could return. Still, it felt as if she
had truly turned a corner. Now that she understood the nature of his work she
was able to accept it, if not quite fully embrace it. She wasn’t sure that she
would ever be able to completely make peace with it. At the very least,
however, she was now confident that she would be able to close herself off from
it as long as Brody didn’t bring his work home.

When she got home that evening it dawned on her that it was
Friday night. That is, it was exactly one week since she had first met Brody.
To think, she hadn’t even wanted to go out that night. Now she couldn’t even
imagine what her life would have been like if she had declined as she
originally intended. It was even possible that she owed Julia a “thank you” for
forcing her to go out that night. Serendipity was a powerful thing, just not
powerful enough to overcome her locking herself in her apartment that night.

She thought about what he might be doing at this very
moment. He could be behind the wheel of a stolen car right now. She caught
herself beginning to worry about him. She knew he could take care of himself.
She knew this wasn’t the first risk he’d ever taken. In all likelihood whatever
job it was would go off without a hitch, allowing them to be together without a
specter hanging over their relationship. She just had to make it through the
uncertainty of this weekend. Then, and only then, could she breathe a sigh of
relief and make some attempt to convince to reform his life.

It would not be an easy task. In fact, she wasn’t fully
convinced that she even wanted him to reform. There was no denying that the
thought of him doing something dangerous turned her on. Was this temporary
excitement worth it? Could she really see herself living vicariously through
his exploits for the foreseeable future? How much longer could he press his
luck before he crashed and burned? She couldn’t live with herself if she
encouraged him. She had to make her feelings known the next time she saw him.

“I just have to make it through this weekend,” she said
aloud to herself. She said it again and again as if it were an incantation that
would magically solve all of her problems.

“I just have to make it through this weekend.”

It wasn’t helping. She knew it was a false hope to believe
that everything would be solved, that it was only a matter of “one last job.”
He had never promised that nor had he really even implied it. Still, she
repeated her desperate refrain.

“I just have to make it through this weekend.”

Over and over again she said it. Evening became night. She
tried to watch TV, tried to read, tried to do work. All the while she said it.

“I just have to make it through this weekend.”

Just this weekend.