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It’s pouring down so hard that Leon catches strays while standing in the shelter of the doorway.
The rain soaks into his jeans, the hem of his coat. He shivers; the cold has crept into his bones – and he all at once feels old performing this familiar vigil. How many times now? How many times watching and surveiling the surroundings to prepare?
But the hotel is the kind it always is. Off the main streets, but still central enough for the luxuries that she prefers. A place for the wealthy and discrete. No agents. This kind of place is for lobbyists trying to buy favors from politicians or a place to hide away infidelities.
Leon’s not quite sure which part of that spectrum he lands on this time around. Isn’t actually sure what he’s walking into at all.
She calls, he answers. That is how it goes.
”Fuck it,” he grunts, impatience like a hum between his shoulderblades.
One last time he checks his phone, his other belongings. To make sure he has actually gone dark like he said he would.
Then he ducks out of cover and into the rain.
---
”What do you mean going dark?” Sherry had done her best to sound frustrated with him, but hadn’t been able to mask the anxiousness in her voice. “You don’t think we got enough on our plate at the moment? You can’t just drop off the face of the earth.”
She meant well, Leon knew that, but the concern set his teeth on edge. His illness hadn’t made him infirm. His trigger finger worked as well as it ever had.
”Not in the mood for a lecture, Sherry.”
”I’m not lec...” a breath, inhaled sharply. “It’s not a lecture, old man.”
”It’s an old confidential source.” Then, guiltily – she was still a good kid – he’d paused, phone hovering up by his ear – Sherry knew him well enough not to try and stop him more than once. “I promise you’ll hear from me in twenty four hours at the latest.”
”Be careful,” she’d sighed. “Fucking promise me, alright?”
”Always am.”
”God, Leon,” her annoyance had made him smile despite everything. “Twenty four hours, not a moment later.”
”Yes, Ma’am.”
---
”Your wife has already checked in, Mr. Jones,” the concierge says as he hands over the keycard, and Leon wonders how many times he smoothes over the details like this in a day. Wife indeed. He tries to imagine her in a wedding veil, and the image doesn’t compute. “It’s room 75.”
Rain puddles from his coat onto the creamy tile floors, and unprompted the bell boy hands him a warm towel to dry off – his face has gone numb from the cold.
How long has it been this time?
---
”I need to see you.”
”Do we just skip hello entirely now?”
”Leon.”
”I’ve been trying to reach you.”
”I know, I’ve been busy.”
"With what?”
”Like I said… I need to see you.”
---
She’s mostly shadows when he enters the room, the light cast by the one lamp she’s turned on not enough to illuminate her properly. Sudden terror springs to life, squeezing in his guts like a curled fist, and for a second he can’t breathe. Terrified of what he'll find.
He reaches out, fingers hesitating for a split second before he flicks the switch.
And then there’s Ada. Sleek and elegant as a knife. Lips red in the golden light.
“Hello, Leon.”
His reaction comes knee jerk – “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Her brows pull together in a frown before she catches onto what he’s referring to. Then she rolls her eyes so hard it looks like they’ll disappear into the back of her head.
“You’re lucky that you’re so pretty,” Ada sighs and gets to her feet, crosses the room to him.
Leon’s distracted – the way her red silk blouse settles over her breasts makes his palms itch – but he catches up fast when she pushes up on the tips of her toes. His hand slides along her waist, soft warm flesh beneath the silk, and the first touch of her mouth nearly knocks the breath from his lungs.
Ada fists her hand in his shirt, pulling him closer with titillating force.
“You’re wet,” she complains, parting to take a breath, and Leon laughs despite himself.
He tastes more than hears her noise of outrage at his wordless joke and he uses the opportunity to lick into her mouth and taste her. Whiskey and vanilla.
“I’ve missed this,” he says emphatically, too honest. He's already panting, and Ada’s lashes flutter with something like surprise, but her eyes soften underneath them, just a little.
“Get on the bed,” she whispers and unclips the holster of his gun.
---
The dark mottled bruising has spread up over her outer thigh, creeps towards her hip. Leon stares at it while Ada kicks off her slacks, and for a second, the fresh, hot desire in his stomach threatens to turn into fear all over again.
“Later, Leon,” she croons, and pulls his thermal over his shoulders, baring his own rash, hands skimming over the point on his chest where the numbness disappears and he can feel everything again – his entire body shudders at the sensation. “Later, baby, later. Later...”
Leon hooks his fingers into the crotch of her expensive feeling silk lingerie and pulls it aside to lick up the length of her cunt, slow and thorough, and the noise she makes – strangled, desperate – crowds out the fear.
“There you are,” she whispers, hips arching under his hands when he tongues her clit again, opens her up, groaning at the taste of her.
He presses his dick against the mattress and shivers at the pressure while he lets her ride his face, strong thighs, warm skin and she’s getting wet – so fucking wet.
In this at least, she’s easy to figure out. Leon looks up, her head thrown back, fingers pinching at her own nipples while her hips press down into his mouth, onto his tongue – another shudder, full body and delicious. She’s already so close.
“Look at me,” he grunts, mouth parting slickly from her pussy, and Ada lets out a pathetic little noise she’d never allow herself anywhere else than when he’s fucking her.
Licking his fingers for an even easier glide, he shoves two inside her – bites the inside of his cheek when she clenches down – and fucks her with them. Slow at first, then faster. She watches him, eyes heavy-lidded and pleasure drunk, and Leon shudders, bends down to suckle her clit. Steady pressure, wet tongue, and gets the exact reaction he wants, thigh sliding against his face, toes curling against his skin when she moans.
“That’s good,” she reaches down to grip his hair, steering his mouth, the pressure. “Leon, that’s right… fuck… Keep going. Make me come, make me… make...”
Leon pulls hard on her panties when she comes, trying to bury his face deeper, and hears something rip. He ignores it, and keeps going until Ada’s hold on him turns near painful, heel digging into his back when her orgasm peaks.
After, she’s always very sensitive, but Leon can’t help himself. He licks at her again, soft, lazy flicks of his tongue that makes her squeeze around his fingers.
“God, Leon,” she laughs, pulls on his hair to ease him off – he obeys, looks up from the puffy sweetness of her cunt. “You’re a menace.”
“But good,” he mutters and bites at the meat of her thigh, heart stuttering in his chest, lightheaded from the unmistakably fond expression on her face. “It’s been a while since I made you come this fast.”
“Guess I missed your mouth,” she whispers, meeting his lips once he’s wiped them on the inside of his arm – he groans into the kiss, the feel of his cock held snug in the cradle of her thighs, so close...
And then Ada throws her weight, sending him sprawling into the pillows beneath them as she settles herself on top. He relaxes under her, surrenders, and lets her guide his arms above his head. Watches the way her dark eyes flash with desire when she puts enough pressure on them for the muscles to strain against his skin.
By the time she leans down and presses her face against his armpit, he’s trembling all over. Lips and nose brushes across paper thin skin, his blood pumping hard and fast underneath. Harder now, all of him so sensitive. Exposed.
“You smell desperate,” she drawls, smug when he inhales sharply as she clenches her thighs around his hips. “Should we see how long you last, huh, Leon?”
---
“When did it start for you?”
His hand isn’t quite touching the dark rash on her hip, hovering just above it instead, feels for the same change in temperature he’s felt in his own bruised skin. Ada catches his hand, urges it away, and he buries it in the duvets instead. Where it’s still warm with sex.
“A couple of months maybe?” she says, shrugging like it is no big deal. “It came and went in the beginning.”
“You should have called.”
Sighing, she gets up from the bed. Leon silently watches her – the slender, athletic lines of her naked body – while she shrugs into one of the plush hotel bathrobes.
“I did.”
“Goddamnit, Ada. You know what I mean.”
He jerks out of the bed too and finds his boxers in the mess of their clothes, feels her eyes on him when he pulls them on.
“So what do you know?” he asks.
“Nothing good.”
When she doesn’t offer anything else, Leon throws up his hands. He had almost forgotten how these nights usually went; Ada is never the one who offers information first. It’s a careful dance, not unlike a knife fight. Looking for an opening, an unguarded flank.
“Are we playing who’s gonna show their hand first?” He grumbles, considers pulling on more of his clothes, but feels ridiculous for it. “Really? When we both got this spreading on us?”
Her chin lifts, something steely in the set of her full mouth. She’s not gonna give an inch.
“The wounded puppy act doesn’t work on me,” she says, as she tugs the robe tighter around her bruised thigh, then tilts her head at an unmistakably flirtatious angle. “Well, not most of the time at least.”
He wonders if she felt as trapped staring at the inside of the MRI as he had. Through all the bloodwork and the ultrasounds and whatever else shit the doctors needed to tell him they knew nothing at all.
“So come on,” her voice breaks through his thoughts, a flick of her dainty foot prompting him. “Dazzle me with your insight, Agent Kennedy.”
She needs this, he realises suddenly, standing there in his fucking boxers like an idiot, his shoulder numb. Right now Ada desperately needs this game they have always played.
He huffs and steps closer, watches the way her eyes track up his thighs and his bare chest, interest all over her face.
“You already put out, Ada,” he says, and bites back a smile at the way her eyes narrow – challenge accepted. “What else you got to trade?”
---
There’s more names in his notes when she climbs onto his lap. More names in hers too. He wonders if either of them are at all on the right track.
Then she kisses his neck, teeth worrying the skin, and – fortunately – he can stop thinking altogether.
---
Her flesh trembles under his mouth, Leon can feel the beat of her pulse underneath, slowly going sluggish as she calms down. His hand is still held in place by the squeeze of her thighs.
“You gonna give me that back?” He asks, wet fingers flexing and Ada shivers deliciously, clingy in a way she only ever is after he’s made her come.
She grins, laughter on her breath, and it’s like a fucking punch to the gut. Because he wants this. Not just a couple of times a year. He wants the glitter of her eyes and the lines at her mouth, the way her skin sticks to his with the sweat of her passion. He wants everything.
“Not a chance, it’s finally being useful,” she purrs, still joking, squeezing her thighs shut tighter, and Leon shudders at the way her fingers tip-toe threateningly down his stomach.
“So all those bioweapons I’ve taken down with it is just what...?”
“I don’t give a shit right now, Leon,” she says with an eye roll and he barks out a laugh at the utterly careless way she says it.
“If you stuck around, we’d…” he licks his lips, hesitating. “You could keep my hand. For a lot longer.”
She quiets, her entire body going still save a slow flex of her slender shoulders, resettling herself against him. They’ve danced around this conversation so many times now. He tries not to look at the dark blotches on her thigh.
“You have your sources of information, I have mine, Leon,” she says, eyes no longer sparkling. “We’d be idiots not to take advantage of that, and we can’t do that if…”
“I know that.”
“Then what?”
He wishes… For once he wishes that she would speak first. To indulge him in saying what she means what she wants instead of him having to try and parse it out.
“Ada, I…”
When his words falter, she opens her legs and climbs on top of him. He can feel how wet she still is by the press of her body against his stomach. The jolt of the sensation rushes through him like fire.
“We don’t need to do all that now,” she says, hands pushing firm onto his chest, her weight urging him back into the depths of the bed.
He’s not sure who’s more surprised when he reaches up to press his hand over her mouth, him or her. Ada’s dark eyes widen above it, his own heart stutter in his chest.
“I don’t want there to be any mistaking things between us. Not this time,” he says, and her breath is so warm, lips soft. “You don’t have to say anything, just look at me, yeah?”
Her shoulders come down, and Leon lets out a sharp, shuddery breath – watches as she raises a hand and wraps it around his forearm, his wrist, and squeezes tight. But she doesn’t try to remove it, purses her mouth against his palm instead. Kisses him.
---
“Aren’t you getting too old for curtain bangs?”
He laughs against her collarbone, bites down in retaliation, and Ada lets out a mock-shocked gasp, pulling on his hair – he doubts it resembles much of any kind of style the way she’s had her hands in it.
“This lady I keep trying to land likes younger men,” he says, drawling the words out in a way that he knows is gonna annoy her. “I gotta keep up my youthful charm.”
She pulls back, eyes narrowing at him.
“She sounds demanding."
“She is,” he squeezes at her ass, hoists her closer, and feels all Ada’s bristling melt away. “It’s extremely hot.”
---
“Ada,” he barely recognizes the sound of his own voice – he sounds wrecked. “Ada, baby, you gotta stop, please.”
The noise it makes when his cock leaves her mouth is obscene – but she looks so beautiful, her cheeks flushed a deep red, her hair a mess – as she strokes it instead. Cruelly slow. Perfectly slow.
“Too good for you?”
He nods mutely, and thumbs her lower lip, groans when she lets him press it into the slick and the wet of her mouth.
“I…” he tries to think of a nice way to say it, something that actually lets her know much he needs it, fails, and simply says: “I want to fuck you.”
Something nicer isn’t necessary – the look Ada sends him makes his cock twitch in her hand, and he lays back, thumb sliding from her mouth with a wet pop. Settling his hands along her thighs, Leon helps her climb on top.
It’s all dark, wet shadows between her legs in this light. Ada’s breath comes in little puffs as she shifts around, thighs spreading wide across his hips.
“Look at me,” she says, voice raspy from working him over with her mouth, and his gaze snaps back up immediately, watching the shine of her lips.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the glide of her hand as it moves down, and Leon nearly goes cross eyed in his effort to keep looking at her face while she guides him in. Pressure, hot and slick, squeezing at him.
She lets out a low, satisfied hum and the sound of it skitters across his skin like electricity.
“Holy shit, Ada.”
Ada’s round hips flexes under his hands when she moves, leans down until she’s draped across his body, soft breasts pressing into his chest.
“I’d forgotten how nice and big your dick is, Leon.”
He can’t help it, he flushes hot with pleasure, like she no doubt intended judging by the way her lips curl up in a smug smile.
“Cheap shot,” he grumbles.
“Works like a charm on you though.”
Rather than answer, Leon reaches down to squeeze her ass, rocks her against his pelvis and watches pleasure wash over her face. The way her hair brushes against the corner of her mouth when she moans.
“Then come on, Ada.” he rears up to lick up the line of the tendon in her neck. “Take it.”
She rolls her eyes at the line, but she does. Takes him. A slow tortuous rise of her hips on the upstroke, a sharp grind on the downstroke. Leon winds himself around her, knees lifting to give her more leverage, hands on her thighs, on her waist, then pulls her down because he can’t help himself. Lips at her tits and her neck and finally her mouth as her hips keep rising, keeps lowering.
“Ada, I…”
Her teeth dig into his lower lip, pulls and it feels like is whole damn soul leaves his body as he groans, hips jerking hard and sharp underneath her.
And suddenly it’s not enough. He moves abruptly, gets her underneath him and turns her over until he’s staring at the long smooth curve of her back rather than her face. He whines, like a kicked dog, when he bottoms out in this position, so deep he can barely stand it.
Ada’s squeezes around him, and Leon leans down, laughs breathlessly against her skin. She’s always liked him being a little helpless. When he slides his hand between her legs, feels for where he splits her open, she makes a pleading sound of her own.
“I’ll always want this,” he groans into her neck, pressing down with his fingers, thrusts through the tightness, the way she starts to seize around him with every touch. “Ada, always, I’ll always want you.”
She comes almost silently. With a low whimper, a half-strangled moan, nails digging into his forearm while he fucks her through each shudder, each pull of her body. By the time he follows her, face pressed between her shoulder blades as his vision whites out from the intensity of it, she’s gone completely limp with pleasure.
“Don’t pull out, not just… Just for a little bit."
Still trembling from the aftershocks, he wraps both arms around her, angling his hips better for staying for a bit. She shudders too, when he kisses her again, on her sweat slick neck and her bare shoulders. He tastes salt on her cheek.
Ada’s fingers wrap over his wrist and hang on tight.
---
“It’s a nice piece,” he mutters, touch sliding over the broad silver band she’s been wearing on her thumb – noting with interest that it’s actually loose enough to twist it around without much effort.
“Hmm?” She sounds tired, and he supposes he is too. They’ve fucked their way into the early hours of the morning. “Oh, yeah, it was an impulse buy from a silversmith in Mexico.”
She’s already told him of Mexico. A dead end save for one name he’s written down in the note book long since abandoned at the other end of the room.
“Bit more masculine than your usual style.” He gives it another slow turn and he can feel the ghost of a laughter in the way she arches against him. “What?”
“Are you angling for a prize for a job well done?”
Despite himself, Leon blushes as he suddenly realizes the actual turn of his thoughts. With Ada uncharacteristically willing to linger in his embrace, he’s not sure if he’s being sentimental or just desperate at the idea of what happens when morning rolls around. When they both need to leave.
“I thought what you did with your mouth earlier was my price?”
“Hmm,” she pulls the ring off her finger and tugs on his left hand, splayed across her belly. “I might be feeling generous.”
Ada plays with his each of his fingers, gently, delicately thumbs across the black blotching on his palm, and then puts the band on his ring finger. It’s a little snug as it slides over his second knuckle, but she gets it all the way down.
“Well, what do you know, almost like you planned it,” he mutters against her ear and Ada shifts a little in his arms. Almost like she’s feeling found out.
Suddenly his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that she must be able to feel it against her back where she leans against him.
“If that was the case, I’d be owning this hand now, wouldn’t I?”
“Just the hand?”
“I suppose I can take the rest of you too if you insist.”
---
His eyelids are getting terribly heavy. The softness of the bed and the warmth of Ada’s body both doing their job too well.
“Promise me something?”
“Hmm?”
Ada sounds further gone than he feels, so he runs his fingers through her hair, sweet smelling from their shower, until she stirs a little.
“You falling asleep on me?” He mutters against her temple, her soft hair.
“No,” she shakes her head. “Just resting my eyes.”
“Of course.”
“What is it?”
“If…” he wets his lips and stares up into the dark above them. “If things turn south. For whatever reason, will you call me this time?”
He feels the change in her body. Knows she’s properly awake now by the way she breathes.
“Okay.”
“That right?”
He can’t see her face in the dark, but he feels her hand slide up his chest, fingers brushing the corner of his mouth, the lines, the stubble that's starting to appear again.
“Yeah,” she whispers, breath warm against his skin. “I promise.”