acting_chica
Cadet
this is the first post of my entry for the missing two years challenge. i hope you like it.
prologue
brainwashed? no way. sydney refused to be brainwashed. she refused to let go of herself. but she had no other way. she did not want to live anymore. she did not want to let the covenant break her, but she was so sick of the way they forced her to live, of eating food that was more like sewage, complying with the brainwashing process. so she pretended to become julia thorne. she did not like it, but she pretended. how could she not slip into what they wanted her to be? it became was she wanted to be. cold. calm. stoic. a murderer.
story
simon was hot. she was the first to admit that. he was very good-looking. he had a sexy accent, he was tall, strong. but lately she had gotten tired of him. she figured it was because she was actually julia thorne. she hated it, but she knew she was.
she went by julia with pleasure now. she cringed when she heard the name sydney. and though she hated, despised, loathed, admitting it, she had grown to like the kill. she had grown to love it. she hadn’t stabbed anyone since her “test.” she didn’t like stabbing people, but she could do anything with a gun. she was best with the sniper rifle, but give her something with bullets and she could kill anyone she had to. she never killed innocents, simon didn’t trust her enough to put her into that. he may be f***ing her every night and day, but he wasn’t completely sure she was on his side. he made she she was killing bad guys, other guys who had killed people. and she always complied, now she even did it happily.
but that wasn’t the point. she realized she was getting bored with simon because she had metamorphisized into julia. julia wasn’t the type of person to stay with one man, no matter how good the sex was. and the sex was good. it was great. she definitely wasn’t bored with that. but she needed something new, fresh, exciting. what was it? who was it?
***
“julian sark,” simon grinned. “haven’t seen you in a while.”
“miss me?” sark smirked.
“well of course,” julia walked up and wrapped her arms around simon.
“julia,” sark sneered.
julia knew that sark had known her as sydney. she could never forget it; his arrogant, cocky ways, his smirks, his british accent, his ice blue eyes, his idea that they were destined to work together. now it looked like they would be working together. why else would sark have shown up at the club?
“so where have you been sarkie?” julia asked, calling him sarkie just to get a rise out of him.
“cia custody. sydney bristow and agent yawn got me sent there,” sark replied.
julia cringed inwardly but didn’t show it on the outside.
“and you got out…?” simon cut into the conversation, looking at sark angrily.
“long story. never mind that now. what do you need me for?” sark saw simon’s look and changed the direction of the conversation.
“i need you to go undercover with julia. i would, but the people would recognize me,” simon explained. “it’s adelina torres. we think she’s working with sloane to help him recover rambaldi artifacts. you two will go in as people who own a something of rambadli’s and are interested in selling it. if you accept, you’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.”
the mention of sloane made julia’s blood boil. she still hated him. but she wiped the thought from her head and waited for sark’s reply.
“no need to ask why she would recognize you, i remember the stories,” sark smirked with a glance at julia. “i need some more information before i agree. you know i haven’t ever even seen this julia work.”
julia scoffed at him. she knew he was just being the cocky ass that sark was. he knew she worked well, he was just trying to get a rise. it was the same thing he had done with the stories comment.
“julian, please,” simon said. “let’s head back to the penthouse and overlook the mission, shall we?”
simon stood and offered julia his arm. she took it and grinned seductively. she glanced at sark. his eyes had lost their playful flare and were back to being cold and emotionless. she smiled to herself.
***
“bloody hell simon you can drive!” sark exclaimed as he got out of his car.
“it wasn’t simon,” julia said.
sark grinned. “i see.”
julia locked the lexus sc 430 and followed simon inside. sark was right behind them. julia ran her hand across simon’s stomach and kissed him passionately as soon as they were inside the elevator. sark rolled his eyes but let it be. she’s just as irritating as julia as she was as sydney he thought.
simon and julia spent the entire elevator ride giggling and kissing each other. they knew sark probably wasn’t very happy about it. that was why they were doing it. they both knew sark had been attracted to julia, even when she was sydney.
the elevator bell dinged and the trio stepped off onto the top floor. the penthouse. “only the best” simon would always say. and the penthouse was the best. it was huge. when you first walked in you were standing between the enormous living room and the kitchen. the living room had a black leather couch with a glass coffee table in front of it. there was a plasma tv on the wall and a black leather chair to match the couch. blood red pillows decorated the sofa and chair. about two feet from the ceiling, a shelf ran across the wall of the living room. it was filled with random shot glasses collected from various foreign places. off of the living room was a deck looking over london.
the kitchen had granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. there was a counter between the kitchen and living room which had stainless steel stools with no backs. to the left of the doorway was the dining room. the table and chairs were dark mahogany. to the right of the door was a hall that led to an office, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and the master bed/bath. the entire penthouse was black or dark, with red or silver accents. the floors were hardwood covered extensively with rugs. abstract paintings lined the walls; most were mirko cavali’s. they were swirls of color, both dark and light, vibrant and subtle.
julia made herself comfortable on the couch as simon left the room to get the mission information. sark stood at the edge of the living room, as though there were a boundary between him and julia.
“i don’t bite,” julia broke the silence.
“that’s not what i’ve heard from simon,” sark smirked.
“julian take a seat,” simon said, re-entering before julia had a chance to snap back at sark.
sark did as he was told. he sat in the chair across from julia. simon sat next to her and set multiple manilla folders on the table. he took two and handed julia one and sark one.
the front page inside was a picture of a beautiful woman. she had big brown eyes and long straight brown hair. her lips were curved into a mischievious smile. she really was lovely. julia wondered about “the stories” sark had commented on. she wasn’t jealous, she just wondered.
“that’s torres. we don’t have any pictures of her with sloane, but it has been heard that she is working with him,” simon explained. “the next picture is her home. it’s on the south western coast of spain.”
the house was a castle really. huge, stone, ivy crawling up the walls. it was beautiful but looked like a place where ghost-stories came true.
“so who are we?” sark asked, leaving through the file.
“it’s in the back. you are frances davidson and samantha harper,” simon began.
“frances? you gave me the name frances?” sark interrupted.
simon just grinned. “you are two people who are very…experimental, with life and things in it. you got sick of the rambaldi artifact and are looking to sell it.”
“by experimental you mean pot-smoking, boozers who f*** anything that moves?” julia rolled her eyes.
“anything good-looking that moves,” simon had a mischevious gleam in his eye.
sark chuckled. “does that include each other?”
simon suddenly looked angry. “no.” he didn’t just say it, it was more a growled command. simon had never been jealous before and julia had to stop herself from giggling at him.
sark, however, continued to look at simon, smirking. simon was giving sark a death glare, but sark was just looking at him and smirking. cocky son of a b****. julia thought. even if simon’s jealousy is funny, it is totally unwarranted, at least when it comes to sark.
“do you have outfits or do i have to go shopping?” julia broke the silence.
“i have a bunch of outfits that you can try and we will see which ones work,” simon suggested, breaking his glare at sark to look at julia.
“now?”
“sure.” simon stood and walked to the bedroom. he returned with to armfuls of clothes on hangers. “sark there are a bunch of clothes in the closet of the room first door on the left.”
sark left to grab his clothes. julia pulled her black sleeveless shirt over her head and took a shirt from simon. she put it on. it was a loose dark purple long sleeve shirt.
“that doesn’t work,” sark said, walking back into the room with his clothes.
“i agree,” julia said and took it off.
sark couldn’t help but look. she was wearing a black lacey bra and her breasts were filling it to capacity. simon stepped into sark’s line of vision and handed julia another shirt.
“try this.”
while simon was trying to obstruct sark’s view, his plan didn’t work out. he had handed julia a one-sleeve red shirt. she unbashfully took off her bra, and sark only had to tilt his head slightly for a clear view.
amazing he thought to himself. he had always thought of sydney bristow as gorgeous, julia thorne as well. the fact that she/they were “forbidden fruit” only made it that much better. but now, seeing her, topless but still confident and not at all shy, he was struck with awe. she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. her breasts were round and gorgeous. her stomach was flat. her skin was flawless. he could see that her slender arms were toned with muscle as she pulled the shirt over her head.
even with the shirt on she looked wonderful. it fit her body perfectly. the extra fabric on the one sleeve hung just right over her right shoulder. on the left near the waist there was an extra fabric so it hung down halfway to her knees and there was a diagonal hemline. she pulled on lace up jeans and looked absolutely amazing.
“i think that works,” sark said, taking a deep breath. he couldn’t take his eyes from her.
“me too,” simon was the same.
julia blushed. she normally almost never blushed, but there she was, in a room with two drop dead gorgeous guys who were pretty much drooling over her. she giggled.
“maybe i should have more than one outfit though,” she said. “guys!”
the two snapped out of it.
“yeah that makes sense,” simon said.
“yeah well of course.”
julia smiled to herself as she changed into another outfit. she turned around this time so the guys weren’t staring at her boobs as she changed. instead it was her back; flawlessly beautiful, a few freckles seemed strategically set down in places that just made you want to kiss them. there was one on her left shoulder blade, one just above her right hip. sark and simon connected the freckle dots with their eyes.
julia turned back around. now she was wearing a denim mini skirt and a tank top with a button down shirt over it. she still looked gorgeous and once more sark and simon could not stop staring.
“sark why don’t you try on some clothes?!” julia exclaimed.
again the guys snapped back to the real world.
“if you would stop taking so much time to check me out, maybe we could get some actual work done!” julia sounded angry, but deep down she was happy. who wouldn’t be after rendering julian sark and simon walker speechless and drooling just by the sight of her?
sark began to try on clothes. while julia went for the sexy/cute look, sark picked out all the suits. suave. bad ass. he loved wearing suits. looking professional but still sexy. he loved shooting guns in suits.
he buttoned the last button of a black suit jacket and glanced in the mirror. he caught julia looking at him and smirked.
“see something you like?” he chuckled.
“don’t flatter yourself. your fly is down,” julia replied.
s*** sark said to himself. he zipped it. too busy being cocky to zip your fly for the first time ever he scolded himself for being arrogant.
julia avoided simon’s looks. yes, she had seen something that she liked. sark looked so sexy when he was dressed up. as much as she didn’t like admitting it, he looked fine with a tie and a suit jacket on. but she shook the thought from her head and went on picking outfits.
it wasn’t until one a.m. when all of the outfits and the hair dye had been picked out. they would be staying with torres for a few days, so they couldn’t take their chances with a wig. julia was going to have her hair dyed a blackish maroon. sark was to keep his blonde attempt at curls.
“babe why don’t you get to sleep?” simon suggested.
actually, julia had been thinking about how tired she was, but she hated when simon told her what to do. she shrugged. “i’m going to make myself a drink. anyone want anything?”
“may i make my own?” sark asked.
“don’t see why not.”
sark followed julia into the kitchen. simon stayed in the living room but kept a watchful eye. julia made a tom collins while sark fixed a rum and coke for himself. julia slipped past him back into the living room, making sure there was as much body-to-body contact as possible. sark was gorgeous and everything, but julia was having fun making him writh. she didn’t actually need to have him, teasing him was fun enough. especially with simon watching.
“i think i’m going to have fun on this mission,” julia said, plopping herself on the couch next to simon.
“why?” simon asked.
“there’s going to be a lot of action,” she replied. “no more of this lazing around and sipping alcohol. we’re going to have a good time.”
“i’ll show you a good time,” sark muttered under his breath as he walked back into the room.
“what was that julian?” simon asked.
“i think it will be a good time too,” sark changed his words. “it will be a pleasure to get to work with julia.”
“why, thank you,” julia smiled.
sark met julia’s eyes. they stared at each other; each one refusing to look away. simon placed his hand on julia’s thigh, drawing both julia and sark’s eyes to it. julia was happy about it, while sark had a cold look in his eyes.
“i wish i could work with you babe,” simon’s hand began roaming up her thigh as he spoke. “i can’t even be in madrid when you are there. for one, a business deal in germany. plus, i can’t run the risk of anyone seeing me.”
simon’s hand had run past julia’s ****y and reached the top of her jeans. he unbuttoned the button and unzipped the fly, continuing to talk.
“you know how much fun we have working together,” his eyes were burning holes in hers. “remember that time in new york?”
“mmmm,” was julia’s only response as simon’s hand slipped under her pants and underwear.
sark was sitting across the room, staring and drinking. there was a fire in his eyes and his jaw was visibly clenched. but the other two were too involved to notice.
“won’t you miss me on this mission?” simon asked, his fingers tracing the slit where julia’s outer lips came together.
“yes,” she breathed heavily.
simon pushed through her outer lips. julia moaned slightly. sark stood. julia opened her eyes and watched him as he walked to the kitchen to refill his drink.
“maybe he should – ” she began to say to simon.
“i want him to watch,” simon cut in.
normally julia would have refused, but simon’s fingers had found her clit.
“oh, god,” she whispered as sark re-entered the room.
he stayed standing. finally he took one last swig of his drink and threw it to the table. simon glared at him as he left the penthouse. as soon as the door slammed simon leapt off the couch.
“that bastard. look, he cracked one of my glasses!” he exclaimed.
“excuse me? you didn’t just want sark to watch, that was the only reason you were doing that? i’m glad you think about me,” julia replied.
“please! you know very well that you were teasing sark with all your might, probably not with me in your head. so stop being a hypocrite,” simon snapped. “and if you truly do want sark, go right ahead. no reason why i should stand in your way.”
“if that’s how you see it then fine! maybe i will just love this mission more than anything other. not the kind of action i was thinking of, but it works,” julia said.
she stormed away, leaving simon with half a rum and coke spilled over the living room and a broken glass in his hand.
how could he? julia thought in her bedroom. who does he think he is? he thinks he can just do whatever he wants to me and i don’t need to have a say.
julia had her own bedroom, though lately she had been sharing the master with simon. but now she was in her own room. she had stormed in and slammed the door shut. she was simply pacing, back and forth and back and forth. thinking.
i may have been teasing sark but simon actually was in my head as i was doing it! she thought. maybe i should get with sark just for the hell of it. that would really piss simon off. his girlfriend f***s his childhood best friend. why not? simon’s getting boring anyway. sark is new. sark is different, interesting. simon just has his same old ways. same drink, same smoke, same walk. of course sark has that same sarcasm, same style, same smirk.
julia debated back and forth in her mind. she hated simon for simply using her to anger sark, but she wasn’t sure she had a real interest in sark to begin with. she sat on her bed, head in her hands. she didn’t want to be mad at simon. but she was certain she wasn’t going to be the one to apologize. he was in the wrong, and he was the one who would have to be sorry for it.
m-c
prologue
brainwashed? no way. sydney refused to be brainwashed. she refused to let go of herself. but she had no other way. she did not want to live anymore. she did not want to let the covenant break her, but she was so sick of the way they forced her to live, of eating food that was more like sewage, complying with the brainwashing process. so she pretended to become julia thorne. she did not like it, but she pretended. how could she not slip into what they wanted her to be? it became was she wanted to be. cold. calm. stoic. a murderer.
story
simon was hot. she was the first to admit that. he was very good-looking. he had a sexy accent, he was tall, strong. but lately she had gotten tired of him. she figured it was because she was actually julia thorne. she hated it, but she knew she was.
she went by julia with pleasure now. she cringed when she heard the name sydney. and though she hated, despised, loathed, admitting it, she had grown to like the kill. she had grown to love it. she hadn’t stabbed anyone since her “test.” she didn’t like stabbing people, but she could do anything with a gun. she was best with the sniper rifle, but give her something with bullets and she could kill anyone she had to. she never killed innocents, simon didn’t trust her enough to put her into that. he may be f***ing her every night and day, but he wasn’t completely sure she was on his side. he made she she was killing bad guys, other guys who had killed people. and she always complied, now she even did it happily.
but that wasn’t the point. she realized she was getting bored with simon because she had metamorphisized into julia. julia wasn’t the type of person to stay with one man, no matter how good the sex was. and the sex was good. it was great. she definitely wasn’t bored with that. but she needed something new, fresh, exciting. what was it? who was it?
***
“julian sark,” simon grinned. “haven’t seen you in a while.”
“miss me?” sark smirked.
“well of course,” julia walked up and wrapped her arms around simon.
“julia,” sark sneered.
julia knew that sark had known her as sydney. she could never forget it; his arrogant, cocky ways, his smirks, his british accent, his ice blue eyes, his idea that they were destined to work together. now it looked like they would be working together. why else would sark have shown up at the club?
“so where have you been sarkie?” julia asked, calling him sarkie just to get a rise out of him.
“cia custody. sydney bristow and agent yawn got me sent there,” sark replied.
julia cringed inwardly but didn’t show it on the outside.
“and you got out…?” simon cut into the conversation, looking at sark angrily.
“long story. never mind that now. what do you need me for?” sark saw simon’s look and changed the direction of the conversation.
“i need you to go undercover with julia. i would, but the people would recognize me,” simon explained. “it’s adelina torres. we think she’s working with sloane to help him recover rambaldi artifacts. you two will go in as people who own a something of rambadli’s and are interested in selling it. if you accept, you’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.”
the mention of sloane made julia’s blood boil. she still hated him. but she wiped the thought from her head and waited for sark’s reply.
“no need to ask why she would recognize you, i remember the stories,” sark smirked with a glance at julia. “i need some more information before i agree. you know i haven’t ever even seen this julia work.”
julia scoffed at him. she knew he was just being the cocky ass that sark was. he knew she worked well, he was just trying to get a rise. it was the same thing he had done with the stories comment.
“julian, please,” simon said. “let’s head back to the penthouse and overlook the mission, shall we?”
simon stood and offered julia his arm. she took it and grinned seductively. she glanced at sark. his eyes had lost their playful flare and were back to being cold and emotionless. she smiled to herself.
***
“bloody hell simon you can drive!” sark exclaimed as he got out of his car.
“it wasn’t simon,” julia said.
sark grinned. “i see.”
julia locked the lexus sc 430 and followed simon inside. sark was right behind them. julia ran her hand across simon’s stomach and kissed him passionately as soon as they were inside the elevator. sark rolled his eyes but let it be. she’s just as irritating as julia as she was as sydney he thought.
simon and julia spent the entire elevator ride giggling and kissing each other. they knew sark probably wasn’t very happy about it. that was why they were doing it. they both knew sark had been attracted to julia, even when she was sydney.
the elevator bell dinged and the trio stepped off onto the top floor. the penthouse. “only the best” simon would always say. and the penthouse was the best. it was huge. when you first walked in you were standing between the enormous living room and the kitchen. the living room had a black leather couch with a glass coffee table in front of it. there was a plasma tv on the wall and a black leather chair to match the couch. blood red pillows decorated the sofa and chair. about two feet from the ceiling, a shelf ran across the wall of the living room. it was filled with random shot glasses collected from various foreign places. off of the living room was a deck looking over london.
the kitchen had granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. there was a counter between the kitchen and living room which had stainless steel stools with no backs. to the left of the doorway was the dining room. the table and chairs were dark mahogany. to the right of the door was a hall that led to an office, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and the master bed/bath. the entire penthouse was black or dark, with red or silver accents. the floors were hardwood covered extensively with rugs. abstract paintings lined the walls; most were mirko cavali’s. they were swirls of color, both dark and light, vibrant and subtle.
julia made herself comfortable on the couch as simon left the room to get the mission information. sark stood at the edge of the living room, as though there were a boundary between him and julia.
“i don’t bite,” julia broke the silence.
“that’s not what i’ve heard from simon,” sark smirked.
“julian take a seat,” simon said, re-entering before julia had a chance to snap back at sark.
sark did as he was told. he sat in the chair across from julia. simon sat next to her and set multiple manilla folders on the table. he took two and handed julia one and sark one.
the front page inside was a picture of a beautiful woman. she had big brown eyes and long straight brown hair. her lips were curved into a mischievious smile. she really was lovely. julia wondered about “the stories” sark had commented on. she wasn’t jealous, she just wondered.
“that’s torres. we don’t have any pictures of her with sloane, but it has been heard that she is working with him,” simon explained. “the next picture is her home. it’s on the south western coast of spain.”
the house was a castle really. huge, stone, ivy crawling up the walls. it was beautiful but looked like a place where ghost-stories came true.
“so who are we?” sark asked, leaving through the file.
“it’s in the back. you are frances davidson and samantha harper,” simon began.
“frances? you gave me the name frances?” sark interrupted.
simon just grinned. “you are two people who are very…experimental, with life and things in it. you got sick of the rambaldi artifact and are looking to sell it.”
“by experimental you mean pot-smoking, boozers who f*** anything that moves?” julia rolled her eyes.
“anything good-looking that moves,” simon had a mischevious gleam in his eye.
sark chuckled. “does that include each other?”
simon suddenly looked angry. “no.” he didn’t just say it, it was more a growled command. simon had never been jealous before and julia had to stop herself from giggling at him.
sark, however, continued to look at simon, smirking. simon was giving sark a death glare, but sark was just looking at him and smirking. cocky son of a b****. julia thought. even if simon’s jealousy is funny, it is totally unwarranted, at least when it comes to sark.
“do you have outfits or do i have to go shopping?” julia broke the silence.
“i have a bunch of outfits that you can try and we will see which ones work,” simon suggested, breaking his glare at sark to look at julia.
“now?”
“sure.” simon stood and walked to the bedroom. he returned with to armfuls of clothes on hangers. “sark there are a bunch of clothes in the closet of the room first door on the left.”
sark left to grab his clothes. julia pulled her black sleeveless shirt over her head and took a shirt from simon. she put it on. it was a loose dark purple long sleeve shirt.
“that doesn’t work,” sark said, walking back into the room with his clothes.
“i agree,” julia said and took it off.
sark couldn’t help but look. she was wearing a black lacey bra and her breasts were filling it to capacity. simon stepped into sark’s line of vision and handed julia another shirt.
“try this.”
while simon was trying to obstruct sark’s view, his plan didn’t work out. he had handed julia a one-sleeve red shirt. she unbashfully took off her bra, and sark only had to tilt his head slightly for a clear view.
amazing he thought to himself. he had always thought of sydney bristow as gorgeous, julia thorne as well. the fact that she/they were “forbidden fruit” only made it that much better. but now, seeing her, topless but still confident and not at all shy, he was struck with awe. she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. her breasts were round and gorgeous. her stomach was flat. her skin was flawless. he could see that her slender arms were toned with muscle as she pulled the shirt over her head.
even with the shirt on she looked wonderful. it fit her body perfectly. the extra fabric on the one sleeve hung just right over her right shoulder. on the left near the waist there was an extra fabric so it hung down halfway to her knees and there was a diagonal hemline. she pulled on lace up jeans and looked absolutely amazing.
“i think that works,” sark said, taking a deep breath. he couldn’t take his eyes from her.
“me too,” simon was the same.
julia blushed. she normally almost never blushed, but there she was, in a room with two drop dead gorgeous guys who were pretty much drooling over her. she giggled.
“maybe i should have more than one outfit though,” she said. “guys!”
the two snapped out of it.
“yeah that makes sense,” simon said.
“yeah well of course.”
julia smiled to herself as she changed into another outfit. she turned around this time so the guys weren’t staring at her boobs as she changed. instead it was her back; flawlessly beautiful, a few freckles seemed strategically set down in places that just made you want to kiss them. there was one on her left shoulder blade, one just above her right hip. sark and simon connected the freckle dots with their eyes.
julia turned back around. now she was wearing a denim mini skirt and a tank top with a button down shirt over it. she still looked gorgeous and once more sark and simon could not stop staring.
“sark why don’t you try on some clothes?!” julia exclaimed.
again the guys snapped back to the real world.
“if you would stop taking so much time to check me out, maybe we could get some actual work done!” julia sounded angry, but deep down she was happy. who wouldn’t be after rendering julian sark and simon walker speechless and drooling just by the sight of her?
sark began to try on clothes. while julia went for the sexy/cute look, sark picked out all the suits. suave. bad ass. he loved wearing suits. looking professional but still sexy. he loved shooting guns in suits.
he buttoned the last button of a black suit jacket and glanced in the mirror. he caught julia looking at him and smirked.
“see something you like?” he chuckled.
“don’t flatter yourself. your fly is down,” julia replied.
s*** sark said to himself. he zipped it. too busy being cocky to zip your fly for the first time ever he scolded himself for being arrogant.
julia avoided simon’s looks. yes, she had seen something that she liked. sark looked so sexy when he was dressed up. as much as she didn’t like admitting it, he looked fine with a tie and a suit jacket on. but she shook the thought from her head and went on picking outfits.
it wasn’t until one a.m. when all of the outfits and the hair dye had been picked out. they would be staying with torres for a few days, so they couldn’t take their chances with a wig. julia was going to have her hair dyed a blackish maroon. sark was to keep his blonde attempt at curls.
“babe why don’t you get to sleep?” simon suggested.
actually, julia had been thinking about how tired she was, but she hated when simon told her what to do. she shrugged. “i’m going to make myself a drink. anyone want anything?”
“may i make my own?” sark asked.
“don’t see why not.”
sark followed julia into the kitchen. simon stayed in the living room but kept a watchful eye. julia made a tom collins while sark fixed a rum and coke for himself. julia slipped past him back into the living room, making sure there was as much body-to-body contact as possible. sark was gorgeous and everything, but julia was having fun making him writh. she didn’t actually need to have him, teasing him was fun enough. especially with simon watching.
“i think i’m going to have fun on this mission,” julia said, plopping herself on the couch next to simon.
“why?” simon asked.
“there’s going to be a lot of action,” she replied. “no more of this lazing around and sipping alcohol. we’re going to have a good time.”
“i’ll show you a good time,” sark muttered under his breath as he walked back into the room.
“what was that julian?” simon asked.
“i think it will be a good time too,” sark changed his words. “it will be a pleasure to get to work with julia.”
“why, thank you,” julia smiled.
sark met julia’s eyes. they stared at each other; each one refusing to look away. simon placed his hand on julia’s thigh, drawing both julia and sark’s eyes to it. julia was happy about it, while sark had a cold look in his eyes.
“i wish i could work with you babe,” simon’s hand began roaming up her thigh as he spoke. “i can’t even be in madrid when you are there. for one, a business deal in germany. plus, i can’t run the risk of anyone seeing me.”
simon’s hand had run past julia’s ****y and reached the top of her jeans. he unbuttoned the button and unzipped the fly, continuing to talk.
“you know how much fun we have working together,” his eyes were burning holes in hers. “remember that time in new york?”
“mmmm,” was julia’s only response as simon’s hand slipped under her pants and underwear.
sark was sitting across the room, staring and drinking. there was a fire in his eyes and his jaw was visibly clenched. but the other two were too involved to notice.
“won’t you miss me on this mission?” simon asked, his fingers tracing the slit where julia’s outer lips came together.
“yes,” she breathed heavily.
simon pushed through her outer lips. julia moaned slightly. sark stood. julia opened her eyes and watched him as he walked to the kitchen to refill his drink.
“maybe he should – ” she began to say to simon.
“i want him to watch,” simon cut in.
normally julia would have refused, but simon’s fingers had found her clit.
“oh, god,” she whispered as sark re-entered the room.
he stayed standing. finally he took one last swig of his drink and threw it to the table. simon glared at him as he left the penthouse. as soon as the door slammed simon leapt off the couch.
“that bastard. look, he cracked one of my glasses!” he exclaimed.
“excuse me? you didn’t just want sark to watch, that was the only reason you were doing that? i’m glad you think about me,” julia replied.
“please! you know very well that you were teasing sark with all your might, probably not with me in your head. so stop being a hypocrite,” simon snapped. “and if you truly do want sark, go right ahead. no reason why i should stand in your way.”
“if that’s how you see it then fine! maybe i will just love this mission more than anything other. not the kind of action i was thinking of, but it works,” julia said.
she stormed away, leaving simon with half a rum and coke spilled over the living room and a broken glass in his hand.
how could he? julia thought in her bedroom. who does he think he is? he thinks he can just do whatever he wants to me and i don’t need to have a say.
julia had her own bedroom, though lately she had been sharing the master with simon. but now she was in her own room. she had stormed in and slammed the door shut. she was simply pacing, back and forth and back and forth. thinking.
i may have been teasing sark but simon actually was in my head as i was doing it! she thought. maybe i should get with sark just for the hell of it. that would really piss simon off. his girlfriend f***s his childhood best friend. why not? simon’s getting boring anyway. sark is new. sark is different, interesting. simon just has his same old ways. same drink, same smoke, same walk. of course sark has that same sarcasm, same style, same smirk.
julia debated back and forth in her mind. she hated simon for simply using her to anger sark, but she wasn’t sure she had a real interest in sark to begin with. she sat on her bed, head in her hands. she didn’t want to be mad at simon. but she was certain she wasn’t going to be the one to apologize. he was in the wrong, and he was the one who would have to be sorry for it.
m-c