The Vance Venture Ch. 02

"However," Vance went on calmly, releasing his breath with the word and opening his eyes once more, "every concluding business relationship must, of course, have a final transaction, a final shipment. A final meeting, if you will."

Jack leaned his arm on the edge of his seat, nodding in understanding, and then glanced up nonchalantly, as though at nothing, though he saw something. Lena was standing straight once more, and now had her top almost entirely undone, seductively stroking each luscious breast with a playful hand. Her fingers teased her hard nipples, pulling and pinching at them, flittering across their sensitive surfaces.

Jack drew his eyes from her casually, though a part of his mind screamed at him not to do so. Through force of will his face remained inflectionless, though another part of him was raising its own objection.

"It is this shipment that I must accompany and guarantee, at which time I can conclude my business with these... unsavoury people."

"May I ask what business you're in?"

Jack furrowed his brows slightly in a display of concern as he asked. He had to stay focused on the conversation, not on Lena as she stripped off her shirt in his peripheral vision. Damn that woman.

"No. You may not." Vance's voice was level and final.

Jack looked away, as if contemplative; to Felix, who now seemed even more absorbed in whatever had his attention behind the desk—the security monitors perhaps; to Lena, who had shed her shirt and now lovingly caressed her assets as though her hands were those of a lover.

She ran her deft touch over her supple skin, sampling the length of her throat, the cut of her shoulder, the curve of her breast. Her hands excited her nipples, explored her breasts. Her body writhed subtly as she tantalized herself, a slow, languid dance with sensation. She smoothed one hand down her flat stomach, the tips of her fingers creeping elusively under the waistband of her skirt...

"So what does your daughter have to do with this?"

Jack once again forced himself to focus, turning his precipitously level gaze back to Vance. He was beginning to have trouble following the conversation, and tearing his gaze from Lena was becoming exceedingly torturous. And the increasing stiffness hidden in his pants was getting more and more uncomfortable.

"Nothing," Vance answered quickly, tersely, "and I mean to keep it that way."

He leaned forward slightly, confidentially, and Jack followed suit, turning his head slightly down to cut off his peripheral view of the enticing balcony above.

"An old acquaintance of mine, someone I once trusted with my life, recommended you. You have no affiliation with me, and so cannot be traced to me, and I need it to stay that way. In case things go badly." Vance reclined once more in his seat, and then added, "But if all goes well, I shall return on Sunday, and our business together will be concluded."

Jack sat back also, and as he did could not help but glance up a moment, for movement again enticed his curious eye. Somehow he managed to keep his breathing steady, but he raised a hand to cover his mouth—smoothly, affecting introspection—so as not to reveal his quivering features.

Lena had hiked her skirt high up on her waist and placed one foot up on the rail, her petite toes wriggling happily against the lacquered wood. From his angle below, looking up through the clear decorative glass under the banister, Jack could plainly see that she wore no panties. His cock gave an insistent spasm, now aching as it grew awkwardly against the unyielding fabric of his briefs. Her pussy was hairless, completely; Jack could see the subtle, exotic folds of her nether lips, the teasing protrusion of her aroused nubbin.

She was licking the tip of her finger, but as Jack looked up, she quickly pulled the slick digit from her mouth and brought it to her exposed clit, there to fondle and tease herself playfully, gently stroking, softly rubbing. A wicked smile looked comfortable on her features, and Jack found himself silently cursing her again as the discomfort between his legs grew harder to bear.

"So you'll return Sunday," was all he could think of to say as he drew his hand down his chin to thoughtfully rub his jaw.

He was rock hard, and that rock was bent in a most disconcerting manner. To move or adjust would draw even more suspicion than he was probably attracting just by looking up all the damn time.

But Vance answered quickly, as yet unsuspecting.

"I'll be leaving Friday morning, early, and expect to return sometime Sunday evening, yes. Your task would simply be to protect my home, and more importantly my daughter within it, during my absence."

"She'll be the only one in the house?"

Vance raised his eyebrows, and then reflected for a moment on the question.

Felix was still reading. Apparently.

Lena was no longer looking at Jack. Her eyes had fallen shut, her mouth agape in raw sensation as her head hung forward, her fiery locks licking her flushed cheeks, coiling down her chest, partially concealing her heaving breasts. Her hand was moving furiously now, two fingers quickly massaging her sensitive clit, and Jack could see the muscles in her thighs and abdomen twitching in reaction to the jolts of electric ecstasy arcing from her pleasure centre. She slipped two fingers down the smooth length of her exquisitely hairless slit, and then plunged them inside herself, eliciting a soft moan from her errant throat.

Vance resumed speaking at the same moment, and Jack's eyes darted back to his prospective client.

"Actually, I suppose there will be a cook and housekeeper, so that makes three people, total."

Jack shook his head slightly. "Give the staff the weekend off. They'll only complicate anything that might happen."

Pause.

"Consider it done."

Felix remained enrapt in the reception desk.

Lena's moan, though heard by Jack, had apparently—amazingly—gone unnoticed by his visitors. She must have heard it herself, however, for now she bit down on her lower lip, hopefully damming any further emissions as her face contorted with escalating arousal. Her fingers continued to slide slickly in and out of her wet nether lips with ever-increasing speed, and now she worked her clit softly with the ball of her thumb in time with her delving digits. Her hips were undulating softly, restrained slightly as she fucked her hand as silently as she could manage. The strain on her face was evident, muscles all over her body tensing as she drew closer to release while trying not to make a sound. Her fingers worked faster, driving her onward toward the brink of climax. Jack wondered if she was torturing herself more, perhaps, than she was torturing him.

"Mr. Action?"

Jack fixed Vance with his steely gaze, though his mind was reeling at the sight of luscious Lena, his cock a burning iron rod in his slacks.

"What can I expect if things go badly?"

Vance hesitated, but only for an instant before answering, and in his eyes was a grave seriousness Jack couldn't ignore.

"I don't know. I really don't know what these people might do, or what they're capable of. But if something happens, I want my Violet kept clear of it, away from anything associated with me. That's why I need an outsider. That's why I came to you."

Jack leaned back in the comfy chair, nodding, his eyes roaming the room in contemplation. Felix was still reading, or staring at the desk's grain, for all Jack knew. Just what the hell was so interesting over there anyway?

He forgot the question as he glanced up at Lena. Her jaw was clenched, her lips occasionally pulling back to bare her gritted teeth. Her eyes kept popping open to glare hotly, lustily at Jack, but would then snap closed tightly as another wave of titillating sensation washed through her body. She still had one leg up on the rail, tremulously maintaining her balance on the other, exposing herself to Jack through the glass beneath. Her hips were snapping back and forth fervently as she furiously fucked herself with her fingers, her thumb pressing on her sensitive nub, rolling in tiny, thrilling circles.

"So do we have an arrangement, Mr. Action?"

Lena's head snapped back, whipping her silken red curls from before her to float lazily down her back as she arched, tensed... and exploded. She froze, every muscle in her body tight and quivering as she fought desperately not to scream while the force of her orgasm slammed through her. Her arm shook, her hand twitching over her pussy where it still delved deeply with two expert fingers, around which now seeped the glistening nectar of her release. She began to melt, her frozen limbs gradually becoming liquid as she lowered herself slowly to the floor, her hand still massaging the lingering waves of pleasure that continued to tremble through her. She pooled there, on her knees behind the glass, breathing heavily, the fiery lust in her face quenched, but smouldering still as she glared down at Jack.

"Mr. Action?" Vance asked with a subtle frown, then made as if to turn, curious as to what had distracted Jack's attention.

"Mr. Vance." Jack smiled as he caught the older man's attention. "If we're going to be in business together, I really must insist you call me Jack."

Vance's brow remained a moment knotted in puzzlement, then relaxed as he nodded his acquiescence, a hint of a smile curling his lip.

"So do we have an arrangement, Jack?"

Vance wasn't telling him everything, but Jack thought he had the general idea. The guy had gotten himself in over his head, and now that it came down to crunch time, he wanted his family protected in case he fucked up. Jack could understand that, though his sympathies, if any, were not for the father, who seemed to have walked into his own mess with his eyes open, but for the daughter. Always the innocent suffered for the ambitions of men like Vance.

So was it a job for Action Investigations?

Why not?

Not only would they be protecting Vance's innocent kid (noble cause—always good), it would give them a reason to check out Vance himself. Jack wasn't sure what he expected to find, but he was almost certain something sordid would rear its ugly head. Besides, they had next to nothing on the books right now, and no matter how fishy the deal might sound, in the end, this was a business—and Vance would certainly pay well.

Jack nodded. "I think we'll be able to work something out."

"Excellent." Vance smiled slightly and then quickly rose to his feet. Jack noticed Felix move at the same time, finally ignoring whatever it was he had found so fascinating on the desk to come heel at his master's side.

Lena was nowhere in sight. The middle door on the upper gallery was once again closed.

Jack stood, swallowing a wince as the iron in his slacks shifted most uncomfortably, and straightened his jacket before gesturing again to the conference rooms at back. "There's a bit of paperwork we need to take care of, and then of course the matter of our fees..."

Jack's gesturing palm was suddenly filled with Vance's hand, which in turn held a money clip thick with cash. Vance withdrew his hand shortly, and Jack caught sight of the clip, a solid gold 'V' inlaid with a pair of small diamonds. It was plump with folded thousand-dollar bills—at least twenty.

So it was like that.

"That should take care of any retainer. Friday morning, six o'clock sharp." Vance snapped a business card from his suit pocket and held it out between two fingers. "Bring the paperwork with you, we'll take care of it then." He nodded to Felix, who immediately moved to precede him to the door.

Jack took the card and watched them leave in silence. His grim suspicions of the situation had just grown, while any positive appraisal of Vance had just diminished. Luckily, Jack was a patient man. Luckily, this Vance character had intrigued him. Luckily, Lena had just finished significantly raising his spirits, and he had already been in a damn fine mood.

Lucky for Jack? No.

But it would prove lucky for Vance.

He waited until the Lexus pulled away from the curb, marking the plate indelibly in his memory, and then Mr. Action put Mr. Vance out of his mind for the time being. He lewdly reached a hand down the front of his pants to straighten things out. Sweet relief! The cash and card he dropped in the pocket of his jacket as he ascended the stairs two at a time.

His jacket was off before he reached the second door, which he found not closed after all, but slightly ajar. He planted a swift kick next to the knob, and the door flew inward on its hinges. Marching forward as it bounced off the interior wall of the office with a resounding crack, Jack shot out his free hand and caught the rebounding door, stopping it dead. With his other hand he threw his jacket to the ground before him, like a gauntlet thrown down in challenge before a fearsome foe.

Lena turned sharply at the crash of the door. She was fully clothed once more, sitting at the table by the window, a half-full glass of orange juice before her. Her look of surprise vanished almost before Jack had a chance to register it. She rose from her seat, glancing from the jacket on the floor to Jack's face, a sexy smile twisting the corners of her sensuous mouth.

"What're you gonna do, Jack?"

He crossed the room in four quick strides, his aspect severe, and was pleased to see a momentary flash of concern cross Lena's features as he did. If she felt a twinge of fear, perhaps she was right to. Her devilish tease had certainly brought out the animal in him—and he was hungry.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and, pulling her roughly to him, kissed her. Not tenderly, like a lover, but crushingly, almost cruelly, like a beast. Just when she began to respond to his fierce lips, he stopped and threw her back from him, releasing her. Not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to send her thumping into the wall behind her, her head rapping sharply off the hard surface.

Jack stepped to her, but she was too fast. Her hand snaked up lightning quick and slapped him across the face. Hard. His left cheek exploded with tingling fire, a thick, stinging pain. He went with it.

Snatching Lena's slender wrists firmly in his hands, he held them to the wall above her head and then forced his mouth upon her again, firmly, achingly pressing his body tight against hers, crushing her to the wall. She struggled for a moment, half-heartedly, and then yielded to his control, melting in his arms as she responded eagerly to his attacking lips. When she started gyrating lustily into him, Jack hesitantly released his manacle hold, slowly trailing his fingertips down the lengths of her arms to her sides, where he slipped them behind her, feeling the taut muscles of her lower back flex as she moved against him.

Lena dropped her arms while savouring their deep, hungry embrace, encircling his shoulders tenderly, splaying her hands across his back. Jack felt soft suction as she pulled his tongue into her mouth, her teeth gently, greedily nibbling. With fierce suddenness, she sank her claws through his light silk shirt and into his flesh and raked them viciously down his back, tearing the expensive shirt to ribbons and slashing the flesh beneath. Jack nearly bit through his own tongue as it recoiled into his mouth, his head snapping back at the shock of pain, a hoarse grunt issuing from behind his guillotine teeth.

Lena used the opportunity to shove her off-balance attacker back fiercely, and Jack counted himself lucky when he half-stumbled, half-tripped backward into the refrigerator, instead of, say, a window.

"Is that all you got Jack?" The sexy smile on her lips belied the ruthless challenge of her glaring hazel eyes.

A malevolent grin crept onto Jack's face as he crossed his arms over his chest, clutching the shoulders of his shirt tightly in his fists, and ripped. The shirt tore away easily in two tattered pieces, revealing his sculpted torso. He dropped the rags to the carpet, cocking his head to the side as he studied his prey. He didn't look down to notice the blood on his ruined shirt. He could feel it, welling from the scratches to seep slowly down his back.

"Come here," he uttered in a low undertone.

"Make me."

In a flash he was on her, and she was ready for him. He all but threw her up onto the wall, stepping between her legs as she instinctively raised them to encase his hips. Pinning her there, he cupped one hand under her round, firm ass while his other palm explored her voluminous breasts between them, her hard nipples teasing him through her red blouse. Lena's hands grabbed the back of Jack's head, and he felt her fingers combing through his sandy brown hair, pulling roughly at it as she yanked him to her, drawing his lips hungrily to her own, a devouring kiss. She bit constantly, painfully crushing his lips between her teeth before darting her tongue into his mouth to quickly caress an apology. One of her hands roamed from his hair, exploring down his back. Jack broke their kiss and instead attacked her neck, nibbling his warning against the supple flesh of her throat while lashing her neck with his tongue. If she struck again, he would make his own vengeful marks this time.

But her fingers only flitted across the long wounds down his back, tickling the sensitive, abraded flesh before quickly moving lower. She pinched his ass roughly, and he started. She dropped her legs from his hips to stand once more, and slid her hand between their bodies to work insistently at his pants. Her dextrous surgeon's fingers quickly unfastened his fly and ventured behind it to grab firm hold of him, and Jack leaned back and closed his eyes, a subtle moan escaping his lips. Her fingers felt cold on the fiery flesh of his burning erection, a sublime sensation that passed all too quickly as his throbbing flesh had plenty of heat to lend. She stroked him vigorously, manhandling his manhood as she watched his face, his breath quickening as he became more aroused.

Without warning Jack stepped back and pulled her from the wall roughly, her hand slipping from his pants as he flung her across the room toward the sofa. She stumbled headlong into the end of it, as he had planned, her knees caught by the arm of the sectional. Jack stepped behind her and bent her rudely over the end of the couch, bracing himself behind her so she couldn't move. She struggled wildly at first, but settled somewhat when he gripped her blouse and tore it from her in one motion. She bucked back against him once, hard, to readjust her grip on the couch, and his cock jerked in eager anticipation as her ass rocked back against its rigid length.

Lena froze when Jack slapped his right hand to the inside of her left thigh, just above the knee. She stood still as a statue as Jack lifted his arm, trailing his fingers lightly across her skin as he slowly slid his hand up her smooth leg, under her skirt. He felt a shiver pass through her body as his fingers glided over a particularly sensitive spot on her upper thigh, and then he felt the hot, petal-soft flesh at the peak of her legs. Her pussy was an exquisitely soft sensation beneath his fingers, her skin like the finest silk, enlivened with a passionate pulse of heat. He moved his fingers across her nether lips, and found them wet and wanting.

"Don't tease me Jack!" Lena ordered. Her breath was coming faster now, her voice betraying her need. "Fuck me!"

He threw her skirt up over her back, bracing her over the couch as she shivered with anticipation, and then dropped his pants hastily. His iron cannon relished the freedom, protruding proudly, as though ready to fire a volley across Lena's lithe back. Jack grabbed its base and softly rested the tip against the smooth flesh of Lena's waiting slit, rubbing his head in the slippery recession, teasing her, caressing her.