r | sexual content
The tape ran out ten minutes ago.
Up until that point, everything was going according to plan. Their pre-recorded conversation played while she snuck down to the kitchen, while he slipped out the window and made it to the roof. She was back in fifteen minutes, he in twenty-five, and then they sat and waited for Dan's voice in Rollin's earpiece.
And then, the tape ran out. And then, they had to improvise.
Her heart is racing, but she's not sure that it's because there are agents listening in the next hotel room, because her Portuguese accent is less than stellar. She's been in more dangerous situations than this, and heart rate never rose above normal. No, this, she thinks, it entirely because of the warm hand on her breast, the lips moving from her ear, down her neck.
Really, there's no reason for him to be fondling her; perhaps cover, if they came in right now, but then they'd have to explain the tape player on the desk, the face mask on the floor. (Why is he always flinging those things everywhere?) They could have faked the appropriate noises and made it sound convincing even if they were sitting on opposite sides of the bed. There was no reason to be kissing, even.
She hums softly as he squeezes her breast.
Dan should have been here twenty minutes ago, but she's not too concerned. If there was really a problem, Willy would have signaled them, and they'd be moving on to plan B. They probably just hit a little snag. Barney must have -
- but then she can't think about Barney, because he's pushed the dress strap off her shoulder, and something about the way he's caressing her collarbone makes her heart pound even harder. His mouth is against hers again, and when she parts her lips to moan, his tongue slips in. She wonders if he's thinking about all the men that she's kissed, wonders if he can imagine tasting them on her.
They have to do this, she tells herself. They have to because when the tape ran out, the arrogant doctor was about to make the moves on the young heiress, and it wouldn't have been in character for them to just sit around and play cards. It's part of the job, and it would be silly to see it as anything else.
Except there's no reason whatsoever for him to be pushing her dress down, down, off her shoulders, to her waist. She makes a quip about not usually going this far on a first date, her Portuguese accent still just awful. She doesn't suppose that it really matters. Every woman's voice probably sounds weird when a man is ... doing that.
Then his hand stills, and his lips migrate back to her ear.
"They caught Dan," he whispers.
The door bursts open a second later.