Single Lady Spy 01 - The End of Me

he dry humped me and made me watch.
    He shook his head and never even tried to fight the shit-eating grin that crossed his delicious lips, "You smell as you should for the job you're about to do."
    I shuddered when he spoke into my nape and left a single kiss.
    “Isn’t it going to be too late for a hooker to show up at a room?”
    He chuckled and kissed me softly, “No. We gain several hours back and he has the order in for one in the morning. We land just in time.”
    I shook my head, “But that’s four in the morning to my body. I’ll be dead on my feet.”
    He licked my neck, “You’ll be on your back, I imagine.”
    The fire inside of me tried to lash out at him; I had loads of smart-ass comebacks. I fought them all.
    He winked, "Your daddy trained you well, Evie,” and spanked my ass as he walked back out of the room.
    My lower lip trembled. I smeared the gloss on one more layer thick, and walked after him. I sat in my perfectly-made up chair. It was like I had never been there. "Roxy must have OCD."
    He laughed, "She does. Best qualities in a cook and assistant."
    I sat and crossed my legs. I loosened up and grabbed my wine. It was the only remnant of my meal. I drank the glass back in a gulp.
    "So I really have to wear this?" I looked down and shook my head.
    He laughed, "We won't ever negotiate on your clothing, ever."
    I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, whatever. I’m a yoga pants sort of girl. Me and you will be hitting us some Lulu, at some point. You think my ass looks good in this skirt—you should see it in Lululemon yoga pants.”
    He looked confused, “You are truly an odd woman.”
    I sighed, “No, you’re just used to being around twenty-year-olds. They lack the I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude that hits when you reach your mid-thirties.”
    “Maybe I could get past that, because everything else has been quite entertaining.”
    I scoffed, “Wait until I get a hot flash and scream at you, because you have a sweater on that’s making me hot. I had a hysterectomy when I was thirty, put me directly into menopause. How hot is that?”
    “Quite hot if you run about ripping your clothes off, when you get one of those flash things?”
    I laughed, “No. I basically turn red and sweaty and yell a lot. Hot yoga keeps them at bay. Yoga and saunas. I basically need to sweat a lot to stop them.”
    “I can make you sweat,” he muttered and leaned over closer to me, running his finger down my bare arm, "Do you realize how odd it is that you believe I had your husband and his lover murdered, and yet, you let me make you cum with my mouth and cock?"
    He was goading me.
    I smiled, "He wasn’t really ever my husband, though was he—not really. And I don’t think he or his lover are dead. Besides, the sex was nice."
    He arched an eyebrow, "Both times? I think it was a lot more than nice." He adjusted himself and looked up at Steve, "Go sit up front and tell Roxy we don’t need her till we land."
    Steve got up and walked to the front of the jet. He closed a door, leaving us back there alone.
    I looked at him and sneered, "You've got to be kidding me; what are seventeen?"
    He shook his head, "Stand up and shut your mouth, unless I tell you to open it."
    My heart started to race. I stood up. He admired me and nodded, "Turn around."
    I glanced at his huge erection and turned around slowly.
    "Take your panties down, slowly and bend from the waist, no knees."
    I was his plaything.
    I winced and trailed my sweaty hands up my thighs, dragging my skirt with them. I looked to the right at the single door stopping everyone from seeing what I was about to do. They were probably taping it. I swallowed my fear and the onion soup threatening to come back up. I looped my fingers in the panties and pulled them down slowly. I bent forward, grateful I had done all my ablutions before I got on the plane. I dragged them right down to the boots, bending all the way. I was about to step out of them when he spoke, "Don’t move."
    I felt the heat from his fingers lingering over my ass cheek. He traced across and down. I lurched forward when he slid his finger inside of my slightly-swollen pussy.
    His other hand came across my ass cheeks hard, "I said don’t move."
    I held my core tight as he pumped his finger in and out like he was bent on torturing me. It was too slow and soft, but still I was mouth breathing into my own knees.
    I started to relax, until I heard him rustling and then felt his body behind mine. His finger