Children of the Sea 03 - Sea Lord

she turned her back on him to reascend the stairs. Holy hell, her rear view was smashing, her waist nipped in, her bum round and firm.
    Graham knew he wasn’t the sort of man women swooned over, not like his younger brother, Ben, or even the professor, whose much-younger female students occasionally followed him home. No, Graham had a plain English face, not ugly but forget-table. Normally, this didn’t bother him—or not much. It just seemed a bit humiliating to find the woman who’d insulted him so very attractive herself.
    That green dress was tight enough to show the cleft between the halves of her arse. His groin grew heavy, his shaft beginning to swell. The sight of her lack of underclothes was so inspiring he forgot he was supposed to move.
    “Don’t just stand there,” she said impatiently over her shoulder. “Follow me.”
    Shoving The Times into his pocket, he followed her, dumbstruck, into a private compartment. She yanked down the shades before flicking on two dim sconces.
    “Sit,” she said, pointing to the black leather seat opposite her own. Her hand was slim and pale, her nails lacquered red as blood.
    Graham sat with difficulty. He was erect and aching and too polite to shift the cause of the trouble to a different position. Hoping his condition wasn’t obvious to her, he wrapped his hands around his knees and waited.

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    The woman stared at him unblinking—taking his stock, he guessed. She resembled a painted statue, or maybe a mannequin in a store window. In spite of his attraction to her, Graham’s irritation rose. This woman had kept him hanging long enough.
    “What’s this about?” he asked.
    She leaned back and crossed a pair of incredibly shapely legs, a move that seemed too practiced to be casual. Her dress was shorter than the current fashion, ending just below her knee. Graham wasn’t certain, but from the hissing sound her calves made, she might be wearing real silk stockings.
    “We’re giving you a new assignment,” she said.
    “A new assignment.”
    “If we decide you’re up for it.”
    “Look,” Graham said, “you people came to me. It’s hardly cricket to suggest that you’re doing me favors.”
    The woman smiled, her teeth a gleaming flash of white behind ruby lips. Graham noticed her incisors were unusually sharp. “I think you’ll find this assignment more intriguing than your previous one. It does, however, require a higher level of vetting.” She leaned forward, her slender forearm resting gracefully on one thigh. The way her small breasts shifted behind her dress told him her top half had no more undergarments than her bottom. Graham’s collar began to feel as tight as his pants. The space between their seats wasn’t nearly great enough.
    “Tell me, Graham,” she said, her index finger almost brushing his, “what do you know about X Section?”
    “Never heard of it,” he said, because as far as he knew, MI5 sections only went up to F.
    “What if I told you it hunts things?”
    “ Things? ”
    “Unnatural things. Dangerous things. Beasts who shouldn’t exist in the human realm.”
    Her face was suddenly very close to his. Her eyes were as dark as coffee, mysterious golden lights seeming to flicker behind the irises. Graham felt dizzy staring into them, his heart thumping far too fast. He didn’t recall seeing her move, but she was kneeling on the floor of the compartment in the space that gaped between his knees. Her pale strong hands were sliding up his thighs. His cock lurched like it could hasten their possible meeting.
    “We need information,” she whispered, her breath as cool and sweet as mint pastilles. “So we can destroy these monsters. And we need you to get it for us.”
    “You’re crazy.” He had to gasp it; his breath was coming so fast.
    “No, I’m not, Graham. I’m the sanest person you’ve ever met.”
    Her fingers had reached the bend between his legs and torso, her thumbs sliding inward over the giant arch of his erection. She scratched him gently with the edge of her bloodred nails.
    “Christ,” Graham choked out. The feathery touch blazed through him like a welder’s torch. His nerves were on fire, his penis weeping with desire. He shifted on the seat in helpless reaction. Her mouth was following her thumbs, her exhalations whispering over his grossly stretched trousers.
    “I’m going to give you clearance,” she said.