reciprocity
Myself and 290 other tarts are up for sale. ~ Sweet Charity ~ Bidding open until midnight (GMT) March 31st!
title: Reciprocity
with: Sophie/Nate
rated: Adult
herein: the badger game - a blackmail stratagem in which a man is lured into a sexually compromising position
disclaim: Leverage belongs to John Rogers and Dean Devlin and many people who are not me; I am looking forward to owning the dvds
for stellaluna-, who pointed out to me the full potential of the badger game.
Sophie smiles to herself on the ride up the hotel elevator. Nate’s in her ear, sounding annoyed, and he’s waiting when she gets off at the tenth floor.
“Sophie, why did you bail instead of bringing the mark up here?” he asks. “You didn’t even talk to him.”
“I didn’t bail.” Sophie takes Nate’s hand-and he lets her-as they walk back to the room. “I was watching Talbot, and I decided not to waste my time trying to seduce a gay man.”
“Wait,” Nate says. “Senator Conservative Family Values with the wife, the dog, and the two-point-five kids-”
Sophie raises her eyebrows.
“I see your point.” He opens the door to their room and holds it for her. It’s just the two of them on this job, a quick and dirty scam to pay back the assistant Talbot fired when he found out she was a single mom.
“Well, we already knew he was a hypocrite,” Sophie says.
“So we take a step back and come up with a new plan.” Nate nods, like his word is final, and Sophie pulls him closer.
“Talbot is only in town until tomorrow evening.” She slides her hand up the side of Nate’s neck. “Besides, the badger game will still work.”
“You’re not-” Nate’s mouth quirks. He looks like he wants to call her bluff, but she’s not bluffing. She’s not bluffing, and there’s nothing he’d ask her to do that he wouldn’t do himself. “Fine,” he says. “Why not?”
“Good.” Sophie slides her hands down to his waist, toying with the hem of his t-shirt. “Let’s get you into some different clothes.”
In ten minutes they’ll have Nate in the bar, and that’s if they take their time. He has a business suit, a blue shirt that brings out his eyes, a tie Sophie decides he shouldn’t wear. You never go anywhere for a con without at least one change of clothes.
“Whatever happens, don’t push him,” Sophie says as she buttons his shirt
“I know.” Nate has a small smile on his face. He reaches up and moves a bit of hair away from her eyes, his fingers moving so gently that she can’t feel him tuck it behind her ear.
“It can’t be a straightforward come on.” Sophie finishes with his shirt and slides her hand up his neck. He’s never clean shaven these days, but she thinks it’ll work tonight. Besides, the stubble looks good on him. Everything looks good on him.
“I’m familiar with the thought process of the married man.” Nate leans down into her space. “Besides, shouldn’t I just imagine how you’d do it?”
“That would be a good place to start,” she says, lifting her chin. Nate hums. He wraps his fingers around her wrist and takes her hand from his neck.
“I may have to make a few modifications,” he says.
“Really?” Sophie steps back and tilts her head, taking the bait. She finds the wedding band, and he lets her put it on his finger.
“Well, you never got me into bed back then,” Nate says, and his eyes trail down her body.
“I could have if that had been the point.” Sophie shifts under his gaze, lengthening her spine and looking him in the eye. Sex is confidence, sex is in how you carry yourself. Between them it’s a challenge because what else are they but confidence artists? Privately, Sophie is grateful that sex was never the point back then, but gratitude has no place in their game anymore.
Nate does nothing to hide his bullshit smile. “Sure you could’ve seduced me,” he says.
“Nate, you said yourself that you had been tempted.” She holds open the suit jacket and helps him put it on. Her fingers brush the back of his neck, where his hair curls a little
“Yeah, I was tempted.” He turns and settles his hands on her waist, leaning in close like he’s going to kiss her. “I always knew better.”
Sophie shifts closer to feel his hands tighten. The warmth of his skin bleeds through the silk of her dress. “You’re that sure,” she says.
“You were never innocent.” Nate cups her face and kisses her forehead, and Sophie laughs.
“That makes us even, then.” Sophie pushes him away.
“Hey, I thought I was the good guy,” he says, a touch of a frown, fingers skimming down her forearm.
“There’s a difference between honesty and innocence.” Sophie backs him toward the door because it’s time. Nate raises her hand to his lips, but the look he gives her, the intensity in his eyes, is filthy. “Yes, you’re very gallant,” she says.
“I try,” he murmurs. His breath is warm on her fingers. Sophie takes her hand back and opens the door for him.
“Go get him, Nate.” She opens the door and touches the small of his back as he leaves.
Sophie checks the room over, making sure that nothing’s out of place, before she gives in and follows Nate downstairs. The heat of anticipation makes her skin prickle. Carefully, Sophie positions herself at the edge of the half-crowded bar. If anyone else were playing the bait, she would want to talk them through the seduction, but she knows Nate’s game firsthand, knows him backward and forward. He’s certainly good enough to hook Talbot.
No, Sophie wants to see Nate work; she needs to see him work. He orders a scotch and moves in, and she shivers a little. Nate likes to play loud and obnoxious. It keeps people off balance; it keeps people focused on the surface of things. He’s beautiful when he plays it subtle, though, and that’s why Sophie has to watch.
Talbot picks up his end of the small talk, and Nate chuckles softly. He’s fiddling with the wedding ring.
“I hate hotels,” Talbot says. “It’s hard to remember where you are.”
“Yeah, I end up on a lot of business trips.” Nate takes a drink and swipes his thumb along his lower lip. “It’s lonely, but there are worse things.” He sounds a little tired, a little worn, letting more of himself bleed through than he maybe needs to.
Talbot introduces himself as Joe Williams, careless now the election has passed. Sophie holds her breath for a second, but Nate shakes his hand as Matt Jones. Their hands remain clasped for too long. Nate’s good with his hands, and Sophie knows the way his thumb will stroke the side of Talbot’s.
Nate only plays it subtle when he has to, and Sophie’s afraid that’s because of how hard it is on him. He’s brilliant, but not at compartmentalizing. They keep to small talk, and Talbot fumbles some story about being an accountant.
Nate takes off the wedding ring, spins it on the surface of the bar, and says that he investigates insurance claims. The best lies are cut from the truth.
She listens to Nate’s voice without hearing the words. His body is at the perfect angle, interested but not presumptuous. Nothing obvious, nothing that couldn’t be shrugged off, but nothing Talbot can quite ignore. Sophie listens to how Nate’s voice is pitched with just enough suggestion. She and Nate have played this game with each other, they played it years ago over and over, but it never went as far as Nate’s going to take it in a few minutes.
Then they have the good senator.
Sophie’s skin is flushed. The slide of her dress over her thighs sends a little shock through her when she stands up. She waits by the elevators.
Nate comes around the corner, hands in his pockets, and his eyes flicker over her. “You were supposed to stay upstairs.”
“Did you really want me to,” she says, not teasing and not trying to hide a thing between them.
In the elevator, Nate backs her up against the wall and kisses her hard. Sophie grabs his hair, pressing herself against his body. She wants to bite his lip but not with Talbot just a few minutes behind them.
“Couldn’t have done better myself,” she murmurs.
“That’s high praise.” Nate’s thumb brushes against her jawline-tender, if he means it.
“It is.” Sophie kisses him chastely. “But lets see how you do now that you’ve got him on the hook.”
They break apart before the elevator doors open, but there’s no one waiting to get on. Nate’s hand rests lightly on the small of her back as they walk down the hall, and sweat prickles up her spine. In their room, Sophie pulls him down into another kiss, into a hot slide of tongue. His hand curves over her hip, hikes up her dress, and slips up the inside of her thigh. She shivers as his fingers tease at the edges of her underwear, and they’re not kissing now, just breathing, pressed close. Close enough that when his breath hitches his lips brush hers, and it’s not quite a kiss. She gives him the next move because she knows she has the move after that. His fingers slip into her underwear, rubbing her clit so she moans, so she holds tight to him, and his fingers slip further down, so he can feel how hot and wet she is. Just from this game. From what they can do together.
Sophie shifts her weight, holding tight to Nate’s shoulders and rubbing herself against his hand. He gasps and pushes her back half a step, against the wall, his body against hers. She can feel him getting hard, and she closes her eyes which is a mistake. His breath is warm against her cheek. One of his fingers presses into her cunt and his thumb rubs her clit. Sophie arches back, bucking against his hand and wanting more, and her moan catches in her throat. He could bring her off like this. She would let him. She tilts her head to look him in the eye, and he licks his lips.
“How long do you think we have?” Sophie asks.
“Not long.” Nate’s fingers slip out of her underwear and his hands ghost over her body, smoothing her dress back down. Sophie groans, frustrated, but what’s foreplay without a little teasing.
“I better hide.” Sophie wipes her lipstick from his mouth. Nate’s smiling at her as he steps back. She finds the video camera, but she can’t read what he’s thinking. The smile isn’t in his eyes.
“Do me proud,” Sophie says, and his face softens before he turns away from her. While he washes his hands, she settles herself on the floor of the closet, where she can watch. Nate paces in front of the bed, and his chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and he hits the mini bar.
It isn’t long before Talbot knocks on the door and Sophie starts recording. Nate leads him past the closet and into the lamplight where she can get a clear shot. Talbot reaches for Nate, for his shoulder, his neck, and Nate’s waiting to take his cue, because there are too many ways it could all go down. Sophie’s stomach drops in anticipation, heat prickling throughout her body.
Talbot doesn’t kiss Nate on the mouth, just pulls him in, and Sophie has to work to keep them both in frame when all she wants to do is watch Nate’s face. Nate’s eyes flutter closed, and she bites her lip. Talbot’s found the sensitive spot on Nate’s neck. Nate will dig his hands into her waist when she presses her mouth there. Now he clutches Talbot’s shoulder, dropping his head to the side.
Sophie wishes Nate would make some noise, but in her experience, he’s startlingly quiet during sex.
Talbot’s almost all business, and Sophie tells herself that’s a good thing. That will get Talbot out of here faster because as much as she loves foreplay, it can’t go on forever. Nate loses at least one of the buttons on his shirt, and Sophie presses her hand against her thigh. Her palm is damp, and she breathes carefully. Nate gets Talbot out of the suit jacket, gets his shirt unbuttoned, and now Talbot’s hands are already in Nate’s pants.
Nate’s groan catches in his throat. He lets himself be pushed to the bed, and Talbot kneels between his legs, and jesus. Jesus. She’s got enough, she should stop it. She watches Nate arch back against the bed, jaw tense, eyes staring at the ceiling. He’s not going to stop it.
She’s got enough now.
“Oh my god,” she yells, she screeches, flattening her voice into a midwest accent and crashing out of the closet. She keeps the camera held in front of her. “I can’t watch this any more, you disgusting prick.”
Talbot falls back on his ass, going pale white with panic, and Sophie gets another good shot of his face.
“I knew you were cheating on me, but men?” Sophie wobbles on her high heels. “The lawyers are going to love this video.”
“What-” There’s a flicker of hysteria in Nate’s eyes as he fumbles himself back in his pants. “What the hell?”
They work the rest of the scam on autopilot. Talbot’s desperate to get a hold of the video, and after some shrill back-and-forth he transfers two hundred grand right into one of their holding accounts. They even get him to use the laptop in their room, and Sophie shoves the camera at him as he leaves.
It’s one of Hardison’s cameras of course. A copy of the video was broadcast right onto their laptop, for insurance.
Nate’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and now that they’re alone again he lies back, rubbing his face. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks her, stretching his arms over his head.
“Did you?” Sophie asks. She leans against the wall, and lifts her hair from the back of her neck. The room already smells like sex.
Nate huffs something that’s almost a laugh. His shirt is open, and his hair is ruffled. He’s still hard. Sophie finds her purse and stands by the bed, and this is exactly why they kept the rest of the team out of the loop. Nate looks up at her; his eyes are dark and focused through the lust. The full force of his attention is as good as a physical blow, and she can see him trying to strip her down, trying to get to her exact thoughts. Sophie steps out of her shoes and her underwear, pulls a condom from her purse and drops it on the bed.
“You’re prepared,” Nate says. He tilts his head, feigning a touch of surprise, of skepticism, whatever gives him plausible deniability.
“You know me.” Sophie climbs on the bed and straddles him, and Nate reaches up, sliding a hand along her neck. His thumb rests over her pulsepoint, a featherlight touch that sends an ache through her. Nate can do that when he plays it subtle. Sophie gets his pants open while his hands wander across her body, almost speculatively, tracing the line of her collarbone, the length of her arm, the curve of her waist to the curve of her breasts.
Sophie could close her eyes and let Nate touch her like this, and it would be enough. She slides her hands up his chest, brushing his shirt to the side, for the warmth of his skin, the curl of his chest hair, and the rise and fall of his breath. The slow unraveling.
“You just want me on my back.” The smirk is more in Nate’s voice than on his face. He brushes her hands aside and sits up to unzip her dress. She slips her arms out of the sleeves. It would be too intimate, and it would be enough to wreck the balance between them. Nate kisses her neck, and his fingers read her spine like braille.
“If it had been me, how long would you have let it go?” Sophie murmurs, her lips pressed against his ear. Her hand slips into his pants, rubbing his dick just enough to frustrate. “How long?” she asks and kisses his cheek, and when he doesn’t answer, she pushes him away.
Nate lies back with a hint of that goddamn smile. He didn’t have the chance to gloat to Talbot, and it’s probably killing him. Sophie pulls his dick out a little roughly, and she spreads her free hand on his stomach so she can feel the muscles flutter.
“I was wondering when you were going to stop it,” Nate says. His voice hitches a little, but he’s mostly steady as she strokes his cock. He’s hot against her palm and starting to leak, and Sophie rubs her thumb over the head of his cock. His hand tightens on her thigh, his breath hitches, but nothing more. He’s not going to give any ground. “Maybe wondered if you were going to stop it,” he murmurs.
“What would you have done, Nate?” Sophie licks a trace of precome from her thumb, and Nate’s eyes linger on her mouth. She leans down and licks his nipple, which earns her a reaction. Which earns his hand in her hair, cupping the back of her skull, and she smiles against his chest. Nate pulls her up, and Sophie braces herself on an elbow. Her hair falls in his face, and she just wants to hear the truth from him every once in a while. His hand slides up the back of her thigh, pulling her closer.
“Do you want to fuck or not?” Nate asks, and there’s strain in his voice now as his fingers creep up between her legs, teasing the edges of her cunt. Sophie ducks her head to bite his shoulder-not his neck, where someone would see. His fingers slips inside her, making her jump, push back, rock against his hand. It’s a bad angle, but heat builds inside her. Nate’s playing her or she’s using him, but most likely both are true.
Sophie sits up, gets the condom, and rolls it on. She watches his face as she moves up on her knees, and her mouth falls open when she gets the angle right, when the head of his cock presses inside her and she slides the rest of the way down, moving a little too hard. She likes a little edge of pain to keep her focused, to make her shiver and to make Nate bite his lip. She always keeps her eyes on him, and this time he’s not showing her anything, not willingly, nothing more than the blank awe that crosses his face when she moves above him like this.
“Answer me,” she says, heart in her throat.
Nate is silent, hands sliding up her thighs, hiking her dress up around her waist. Sophie braces herself on his chest and rolls her hips slowly-oh, god, slowly-she wants him to give it up and fuck her right. She has to tease to get that today. This is the ninth time they’ve fucked, the ninth time they’ve run a job on the side, and only twice has he shoved her against a wall, pushed her over a desk to take. To want. Nate spreads his hands on her hips and holds on to her tight, following the sway of her body, the slow sway. Sophie doesn’t make it easy; she wants his fingers tight enough to bruise. Gradually Nate changes their rhythm, shifting her hips a little harder with each stroke, and she drops further forward.
Sophie shifts her weight and takes his hand, guiding it between her legs. In the end, Nate always makes her ask for it. His fingers rub her clit, and he doesn’t tease. She shivers and her fingernails leaving pink marks on the inside of his wrist before she braces herself against his chest again. With his free hand he shoves her bra aside and cups her breast, and she does close her eyes, drop her head forward, focus on the feel of his hands.
Nate takes her to the edge then slips his fingers back along her cunt, like he did earlier when he pushed her against the wall. She groans, but his thumb puts just enough friction on her clit to keep her close. His knees are bent and he’s meeting her rhythm now while his fingers tease her, move along her slick sensitive cunt. She presses forward, grinding against his thumb, and she comes suddenly, shockingly, almost collapsing on him. He stills, cock pressing deep inside her, but his fingers keep moving, working her through the aftershocks, and she groans. She groans, settling down in his lap, and her arms are shaking a little as she holds herself up. His fingers keep playing her, and her voice hiccups and stutters, and she’s coming again, gently, breath stopping in her throat.
“Come here,” Nate says, and he pulls her down, threading a hand through her hair, pulling her close enough that for a moment Sophie thinks he’s going to kiss her. His lips brush her jawline, a tease more than a touch, then he rolls them, pressing her down into the bed. Sophie wraps her legs around him, her calf rubbing against the fabric of his pants, and one of these days they’re going to undress all the way. One of these days they’re going to take each other apart. Her dress is crumpled and caught between them, and the zipper is digging into her spine. She wraps herself around him.
“Oh, fuck,” Nate stutters, and Sophie counts that a victory. His hips press forward. His pants are shoved down enough for her to get a good hand on his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He closes his eyes when he groans.
“You didn’t answer me, Nate.” Sophie’s voice is thick, and she pulls his hair so he won’t hide his face against her neck. “How far.”
“I wouldn’t have let him fuck you.” He’s looking her in the eye.
“Right,” she says softly, cupping his face.
“I wouldn’t.” Nate turns his head to kiss her palm and he’s looking her right in the eye. Another slow, decisive roll of the hips, but he’s trembling with the effort to hold back. Sophie digs her fingernails into the back of his neck, hoping she leaves a mark.
“If I say I believe you, will you just-”
Nate kisses her, and christ, Sophie wishes they’d kiss more often. He’s not in control when he kisses her, when he really kisses her. His focus slips into simple heat and intensity, and she lets him in. She lets the rest of the sentence go, even though that’s exactly what he wants. He’s given in. The kiss trails off into a gentle press of their mouths, and she licks his lower lip once before he moves back. He’s close and he’s finally desperate, and that feels good. That almost feels better than the fact of his body against hers, inside hers. Sophie’s always at a disadvantage because she has a sense of self-preservation, but she makes the most of it. She won’t close the distance between them and kiss him again because he’d pull back, but this close he almost is kissing her. This close, and even though the want on his face is for forgetting, he’s looking her in the eye. It’s always a good idea to know who you’re screwing.
“How far would you have gone?” she asks, fingers sneaking beneath his shirt and up his spine.
“I told you,” he says. His hand curves around her ass like he can’t get close enough.
“No.” Sophie’s voice catches. “No, how far if I hadn’t stopped you.” She reaches up, bracing a hand against the headboard, and Nate doesn’t answer, just shifts the angle. It’s a little rough and a lot good. She cants her hips and reaches between them, and she barely has to touch herself before she’s coming again, and he fucks her through it, through the little afterschocks that send sparks throughout her body.
Nate hides his face against her neck-she’s already asked too much-and moments later he’s coming silently, helplessly. His breath is warm and moist, ragged on her skin, and she strokes her hand up and down his back, his shirt bunching under her palm. He’s still for a moment, and she wraps herself around him.
Then Nate’s moving away, pushing himself off the bed with a sigh. Sophie reaches both hands up to the headboard, stretching out her body. Her dress is damp with sweat, bunched at the small of her back, and the bedspread is rumpled beneath her, rough against her oversensitive skin. Her bra digs in to her ribcage. She watches Nate get rid of the condom-his shirt is as crushed as her dress, and his pants are low on his hips. His face flushed and his hair wrecked. He pauses when he turns back, looking towards her but not at her.
“In the end it’s all just sex, isn’t it,” she says because jesus, they’re both a mess. She doesn’t reach for Nate when he comes back and stretches out next to her, over her. Nate leans in slowly to kiss her cheek, and the tenderness would break her in half if she believed it. He gets touch hungry after they screw, indulging himself, and Sophie’s already set better judgment aside. She offers up her body because there’s nothing else that she can do.
Nate kisses his way down her neck, each press of his mouth more definite than the last. He kisses her shoulder, her clavicle, her breast. He moves her bra aside to mouth her nipple, tongue and a little bit of teeth to make her ache. His finger teases the edge of her cunt, and she gasps, knocking his hand away.
“Have you played women like that?” Nate asks, shifting down the bed, and he pushes her dress up far enough to leave open-mouthed kisses across her stomach and pelvis. Sophie hums and strokes her fingers through his sweat damp hair. She thinks she can feel him smile against her skin.
“I’ve played women a couple times,” she says. “The opportunity doesn’t come up too often, but I never back away from a challenge.”
“How’d that go?” Nate looks up at her, and Sophie rubs her thumb along his jawline, over his lips.
“Don’t get any ideas down there,” she says, and he nips playfully at her thumb. She can’t stamp out the fondness on her face or in her chest.
“The women?” he asks.
“The women are no different than playing men I’m not interested in.” Sophie shifts and settles back onto the pillow. She doesn’t pull Nate away because his mouth feels good on her skin. It shouldn’t feel so good. He crawls up her body, kisses the hollow of her throat, and she goes boneless. Sophie knows that Nate likes her; she doesn’t want to think about whether he might love her. He’s not capable of more than this, this touch hunger and a few minutes kept separate from the rest of their lives. His palms are firm at the small of he back when he licks her navel. The last time they screwed, he left a hickey on the inside of her thigh. She’s strung out, and when he moves. He moves.
She’s already sensitive, too sensitive, and his mouth on her cunt is a shock.
“Oh wait-fuck.” Her whole body arches, but he has her hips pinned and a shoulder keeping her open. She digs her heel into his back, clutches the blanket, and knocks his head-not hard enough. Not hard at all. Sharp sparks lick through her body and flicker behind her eyelids. Her hips jerk, and there’s no finesse, can’t be with her body trying to buck him off. His fingers are in her again, not teasing just pressing. Nate knows how to play ruthless, and he knows how to play her, too. Her body winds tighter, and finally snaps free, coming so hard it hurts.
Sophie closes her eyes and breathes deep and ragged. Adrenaline heat prickles along her body, and there’s a twitch of pain when Nate’s fingers draw away.
Nate rests his head on her stomach and traces a nonsense pattern on her hip, fingertips barely touching her. Sophie laughs suddenly, sounding a little drunk.
“Don’t worry,” she says and strokes his shoulder. “You’ve always been interesting.”
title: Reciprocity
with: Sophie/Nate
rated: Adult
herein: the badger game - a blackmail stratagem in which a man is lured into a sexually compromising position
disclaim: Leverage belongs to John Rogers and Dean Devlin and many people who are not me; I am looking forward to owning the dvds
for stellaluna-, who pointed out to me the full potential of the badger game.
Sophie smiles to herself on the ride up the hotel elevator. Nate’s in her ear, sounding annoyed, and he’s waiting when she gets off at the tenth floor.
“Sophie, why did you bail instead of bringing the mark up here?” he asks. “You didn’t even talk to him.”
“I didn’t bail.” Sophie takes Nate’s hand-and he lets her-as they walk back to the room. “I was watching Talbot, and I decided not to waste my time trying to seduce a gay man.”
“Wait,” Nate says. “Senator Conservative Family Values with the wife, the dog, and the two-point-five kids-”
Sophie raises her eyebrows.
“I see your point.” He opens the door to their room and holds it for her. It’s just the two of them on this job, a quick and dirty scam to pay back the assistant Talbot fired when he found out she was a single mom.
“Well, we already knew he was a hypocrite,” Sophie says.
“So we take a step back and come up with a new plan.” Nate nods, like his word is final, and Sophie pulls him closer.
“Talbot is only in town until tomorrow evening.” She slides her hand up the side of Nate’s neck. “Besides, the badger game will still work.”
“You’re not-” Nate’s mouth quirks. He looks like he wants to call her bluff, but she’s not bluffing. She’s not bluffing, and there’s nothing he’d ask her to do that he wouldn’t do himself. “Fine,” he says. “Why not?”
“Good.” Sophie slides her hands down to his waist, toying with the hem of his t-shirt. “Let’s get you into some different clothes.”
In ten minutes they’ll have Nate in the bar, and that’s if they take their time. He has a business suit, a blue shirt that brings out his eyes, a tie Sophie decides he shouldn’t wear. You never go anywhere for a con without at least one change of clothes.
“Whatever happens, don’t push him,” Sophie says as she buttons his shirt
“I know.” Nate has a small smile on his face. He reaches up and moves a bit of hair away from her eyes, his fingers moving so gently that she can’t feel him tuck it behind her ear.
“It can’t be a straightforward come on.” Sophie finishes with his shirt and slides her hand up his neck. He’s never clean shaven these days, but she thinks it’ll work tonight. Besides, the stubble looks good on him. Everything looks good on him.
“I’m familiar with the thought process of the married man.” Nate leans down into her space. “Besides, shouldn’t I just imagine how you’d do it?”
“That would be a good place to start,” she says, lifting her chin. Nate hums. He wraps his fingers around her wrist and takes her hand from his neck.
“I may have to make a few modifications,” he says.
“Really?” Sophie steps back and tilts her head, taking the bait. She finds the wedding band, and he lets her put it on his finger.
“Well, you never got me into bed back then,” Nate says, and his eyes trail down her body.
“I could have if that had been the point.” Sophie shifts under his gaze, lengthening her spine and looking him in the eye. Sex is confidence, sex is in how you carry yourself. Between them it’s a challenge because what else are they but confidence artists? Privately, Sophie is grateful that sex was never the point back then, but gratitude has no place in their game anymore.
Nate does nothing to hide his bullshit smile. “Sure you could’ve seduced me,” he says.
“Nate, you said yourself that you had been tempted.” She holds open the suit jacket and helps him put it on. Her fingers brush the back of his neck, where his hair curls a little
“Yeah, I was tempted.” He turns and settles his hands on her waist, leaning in close like he’s going to kiss her. “I always knew better.”
Sophie shifts closer to feel his hands tighten. The warmth of his skin bleeds through the silk of her dress. “You’re that sure,” she says.
“You were never innocent.” Nate cups her face and kisses her forehead, and Sophie laughs.
“That makes us even, then.” Sophie pushes him away.
“Hey, I thought I was the good guy,” he says, a touch of a frown, fingers skimming down her forearm.
“There’s a difference between honesty and innocence.” Sophie backs him toward the door because it’s time. Nate raises her hand to his lips, but the look he gives her, the intensity in his eyes, is filthy. “Yes, you’re very gallant,” she says.
“I try,” he murmurs. His breath is warm on her fingers. Sophie takes her hand back and opens the door for him.
“Go get him, Nate.” She opens the door and touches the small of his back as he leaves.
Sophie checks the room over, making sure that nothing’s out of place, before she gives in and follows Nate downstairs. The heat of anticipation makes her skin prickle. Carefully, Sophie positions herself at the edge of the half-crowded bar. If anyone else were playing the bait, she would want to talk them through the seduction, but she knows Nate’s game firsthand, knows him backward and forward. He’s certainly good enough to hook Talbot.
No, Sophie wants to see Nate work; she needs to see him work. He orders a scotch and moves in, and she shivers a little. Nate likes to play loud and obnoxious. It keeps people off balance; it keeps people focused on the surface of things. He’s beautiful when he plays it subtle, though, and that’s why Sophie has to watch.
Talbot picks up his end of the small talk, and Nate chuckles softly. He’s fiddling with the wedding ring.
“I hate hotels,” Talbot says. “It’s hard to remember where you are.”
“Yeah, I end up on a lot of business trips.” Nate takes a drink and swipes his thumb along his lower lip. “It’s lonely, but there are worse things.” He sounds a little tired, a little worn, letting more of himself bleed through than he maybe needs to.
Talbot introduces himself as Joe Williams, careless now the election has passed. Sophie holds her breath for a second, but Nate shakes his hand as Matt Jones. Their hands remain clasped for too long. Nate’s good with his hands, and Sophie knows the way his thumb will stroke the side of Talbot’s.
Nate only plays it subtle when he has to, and Sophie’s afraid that’s because of how hard it is on him. He’s brilliant, but not at compartmentalizing. They keep to small talk, and Talbot fumbles some story about being an accountant.
Nate takes off the wedding ring, spins it on the surface of the bar, and says that he investigates insurance claims. The best lies are cut from the truth.
She listens to Nate’s voice without hearing the words. His body is at the perfect angle, interested but not presumptuous. Nothing obvious, nothing that couldn’t be shrugged off, but nothing Talbot can quite ignore. Sophie listens to how Nate’s voice is pitched with just enough suggestion. She and Nate have played this game with each other, they played it years ago over and over, but it never went as far as Nate’s going to take it in a few minutes.
Then they have the good senator.
Sophie’s skin is flushed. The slide of her dress over her thighs sends a little shock through her when she stands up. She waits by the elevators.
Nate comes around the corner, hands in his pockets, and his eyes flicker over her. “You were supposed to stay upstairs.”
“Did you really want me to,” she says, not teasing and not trying to hide a thing between them.
In the elevator, Nate backs her up against the wall and kisses her hard. Sophie grabs his hair, pressing herself against his body. She wants to bite his lip but not with Talbot just a few minutes behind them.
“Couldn’t have done better myself,” she murmurs.
“That’s high praise.” Nate’s thumb brushes against her jawline-tender, if he means it.
“It is.” Sophie kisses him chastely. “But lets see how you do now that you’ve got him on the hook.”
They break apart before the elevator doors open, but there’s no one waiting to get on. Nate’s hand rests lightly on the small of her back as they walk down the hall, and sweat prickles up her spine. In their room, Sophie pulls him down into another kiss, into a hot slide of tongue. His hand curves over her hip, hikes up her dress, and slips up the inside of her thigh. She shivers as his fingers tease at the edges of her underwear, and they’re not kissing now, just breathing, pressed close. Close enough that when his breath hitches his lips brush hers, and it’s not quite a kiss. She gives him the next move because she knows she has the move after that. His fingers slip into her underwear, rubbing her clit so she moans, so she holds tight to him, and his fingers slip further down, so he can feel how hot and wet she is. Just from this game. From what they can do together.
Sophie shifts her weight, holding tight to Nate’s shoulders and rubbing herself against his hand. He gasps and pushes her back half a step, against the wall, his body against hers. She can feel him getting hard, and she closes her eyes which is a mistake. His breath is warm against her cheek. One of his fingers presses into her cunt and his thumb rubs her clit. Sophie arches back, bucking against his hand and wanting more, and her moan catches in her throat. He could bring her off like this. She would let him. She tilts her head to look him in the eye, and he licks his lips.
“How long do you think we have?” Sophie asks.
“Not long.” Nate’s fingers slip out of her underwear and his hands ghost over her body, smoothing her dress back down. Sophie groans, frustrated, but what’s foreplay without a little teasing.
“I better hide.” Sophie wipes her lipstick from his mouth. Nate’s smiling at her as he steps back. She finds the video camera, but she can’t read what he’s thinking. The smile isn’t in his eyes.
“Do me proud,” Sophie says, and his face softens before he turns away from her. While he washes his hands, she settles herself on the floor of the closet, where she can watch. Nate paces in front of the bed, and his chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and he hits the mini bar.
It isn’t long before Talbot knocks on the door and Sophie starts recording. Nate leads him past the closet and into the lamplight where she can get a clear shot. Talbot reaches for Nate, for his shoulder, his neck, and Nate’s waiting to take his cue, because there are too many ways it could all go down. Sophie’s stomach drops in anticipation, heat prickling throughout her body.
Talbot doesn’t kiss Nate on the mouth, just pulls him in, and Sophie has to work to keep them both in frame when all she wants to do is watch Nate’s face. Nate’s eyes flutter closed, and she bites her lip. Talbot’s found the sensitive spot on Nate’s neck. Nate will dig his hands into her waist when she presses her mouth there. Now he clutches Talbot’s shoulder, dropping his head to the side.
Sophie wishes Nate would make some noise, but in her experience, he’s startlingly quiet during sex.
Talbot’s almost all business, and Sophie tells herself that’s a good thing. That will get Talbot out of here faster because as much as she loves foreplay, it can’t go on forever. Nate loses at least one of the buttons on his shirt, and Sophie presses her hand against her thigh. Her palm is damp, and she breathes carefully. Nate gets Talbot out of the suit jacket, gets his shirt unbuttoned, and now Talbot’s hands are already in Nate’s pants.
Nate’s groan catches in his throat. He lets himself be pushed to the bed, and Talbot kneels between his legs, and jesus. Jesus. She’s got enough, she should stop it. She watches Nate arch back against the bed, jaw tense, eyes staring at the ceiling. He’s not going to stop it.
She’s got enough now.
“Oh my god,” she yells, she screeches, flattening her voice into a midwest accent and crashing out of the closet. She keeps the camera held in front of her. “I can’t watch this any more, you disgusting prick.”
Talbot falls back on his ass, going pale white with panic, and Sophie gets another good shot of his face.
“I knew you were cheating on me, but men?” Sophie wobbles on her high heels. “The lawyers are going to love this video.”
“What-” There’s a flicker of hysteria in Nate’s eyes as he fumbles himself back in his pants. “What the hell?”
They work the rest of the scam on autopilot. Talbot’s desperate to get a hold of the video, and after some shrill back-and-forth he transfers two hundred grand right into one of their holding accounts. They even get him to use the laptop in their room, and Sophie shoves the camera at him as he leaves.
It’s one of Hardison’s cameras of course. A copy of the video was broadcast right onto their laptop, for insurance.
Nate’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and now that they’re alone again he lies back, rubbing his face. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks her, stretching his arms over his head.
“Did you?” Sophie asks. She leans against the wall, and lifts her hair from the back of her neck. The room already smells like sex.
Nate huffs something that’s almost a laugh. His shirt is open, and his hair is ruffled. He’s still hard. Sophie finds her purse and stands by the bed, and this is exactly why they kept the rest of the team out of the loop. Nate looks up at her; his eyes are dark and focused through the lust. The full force of his attention is as good as a physical blow, and she can see him trying to strip her down, trying to get to her exact thoughts. Sophie steps out of her shoes and her underwear, pulls a condom from her purse and drops it on the bed.
“You’re prepared,” Nate says. He tilts his head, feigning a touch of surprise, of skepticism, whatever gives him plausible deniability.
“You know me.” Sophie climbs on the bed and straddles him, and Nate reaches up, sliding a hand along her neck. His thumb rests over her pulsepoint, a featherlight touch that sends an ache through her. Nate can do that when he plays it subtle. Sophie gets his pants open while his hands wander across her body, almost speculatively, tracing the line of her collarbone, the length of her arm, the curve of her waist to the curve of her breasts.
Sophie could close her eyes and let Nate touch her like this, and it would be enough. She slides her hands up his chest, brushing his shirt to the side, for the warmth of his skin, the curl of his chest hair, and the rise and fall of his breath. The slow unraveling.
“You just want me on my back.” The smirk is more in Nate’s voice than on his face. He brushes her hands aside and sits up to unzip her dress. She slips her arms out of the sleeves. It would be too intimate, and it would be enough to wreck the balance between them. Nate kisses her neck, and his fingers read her spine like braille.
“If it had been me, how long would you have let it go?” Sophie murmurs, her lips pressed against his ear. Her hand slips into his pants, rubbing his dick just enough to frustrate. “How long?” she asks and kisses his cheek, and when he doesn’t answer, she pushes him away.
Nate lies back with a hint of that goddamn smile. He didn’t have the chance to gloat to Talbot, and it’s probably killing him. Sophie pulls his dick out a little roughly, and she spreads her free hand on his stomach so she can feel the muscles flutter.
“I was wondering when you were going to stop it,” Nate says. His voice hitches a little, but he’s mostly steady as she strokes his cock. He’s hot against her palm and starting to leak, and Sophie rubs her thumb over the head of his cock. His hand tightens on her thigh, his breath hitches, but nothing more. He’s not going to give any ground. “Maybe wondered if you were going to stop it,” he murmurs.
“What would you have done, Nate?” Sophie licks a trace of precome from her thumb, and Nate’s eyes linger on her mouth. She leans down and licks his nipple, which earns her a reaction. Which earns his hand in her hair, cupping the back of her skull, and she smiles against his chest. Nate pulls her up, and Sophie braces herself on an elbow. Her hair falls in his face, and she just wants to hear the truth from him every once in a while. His hand slides up the back of her thigh, pulling her closer.
“Do you want to fuck or not?” Nate asks, and there’s strain in his voice now as his fingers creep up between her legs, teasing the edges of her cunt. Sophie ducks her head to bite his shoulder-not his neck, where someone would see. His fingers slips inside her, making her jump, push back, rock against his hand. It’s a bad angle, but heat builds inside her. Nate’s playing her or she’s using him, but most likely both are true.
Sophie sits up, gets the condom, and rolls it on. She watches his face as she moves up on her knees, and her mouth falls open when she gets the angle right, when the head of his cock presses inside her and she slides the rest of the way down, moving a little too hard. She likes a little edge of pain to keep her focused, to make her shiver and to make Nate bite his lip. She always keeps her eyes on him, and this time he’s not showing her anything, not willingly, nothing more than the blank awe that crosses his face when she moves above him like this.
“Answer me,” she says, heart in her throat.
Nate is silent, hands sliding up her thighs, hiking her dress up around her waist. Sophie braces herself on his chest and rolls her hips slowly-oh, god, slowly-she wants him to give it up and fuck her right. She has to tease to get that today. This is the ninth time they’ve fucked, the ninth time they’ve run a job on the side, and only twice has he shoved her against a wall, pushed her over a desk to take. To want. Nate spreads his hands on her hips and holds on to her tight, following the sway of her body, the slow sway. Sophie doesn’t make it easy; she wants his fingers tight enough to bruise. Gradually Nate changes their rhythm, shifting her hips a little harder with each stroke, and she drops further forward.
Sophie shifts her weight and takes his hand, guiding it between her legs. In the end, Nate always makes her ask for it. His fingers rub her clit, and he doesn’t tease. She shivers and her fingernails leaving pink marks on the inside of his wrist before she braces herself against his chest again. With his free hand he shoves her bra aside and cups her breast, and she does close her eyes, drop her head forward, focus on the feel of his hands.
Nate takes her to the edge then slips his fingers back along her cunt, like he did earlier when he pushed her against the wall. She groans, but his thumb puts just enough friction on her clit to keep her close. His knees are bent and he’s meeting her rhythm now while his fingers tease her, move along her slick sensitive cunt. She presses forward, grinding against his thumb, and she comes suddenly, shockingly, almost collapsing on him. He stills, cock pressing deep inside her, but his fingers keep moving, working her through the aftershocks, and she groans. She groans, settling down in his lap, and her arms are shaking a little as she holds herself up. His fingers keep playing her, and her voice hiccups and stutters, and she’s coming again, gently, breath stopping in her throat.
“Come here,” Nate says, and he pulls her down, threading a hand through her hair, pulling her close enough that for a moment Sophie thinks he’s going to kiss her. His lips brush her jawline, a tease more than a touch, then he rolls them, pressing her down into the bed. Sophie wraps her legs around him, her calf rubbing against the fabric of his pants, and one of these days they’re going to undress all the way. One of these days they’re going to take each other apart. Her dress is crumpled and caught between them, and the zipper is digging into her spine. She wraps herself around him.
“Oh, fuck,” Nate stutters, and Sophie counts that a victory. His hips press forward. His pants are shoved down enough for her to get a good hand on his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He closes his eyes when he groans.
“You didn’t answer me, Nate.” Sophie’s voice is thick, and she pulls his hair so he won’t hide his face against her neck. “How far.”
“I wouldn’t have let him fuck you.” He’s looking her in the eye.
“Right,” she says softly, cupping his face.
“I wouldn’t.” Nate turns his head to kiss her palm and he’s looking her right in the eye. Another slow, decisive roll of the hips, but he’s trembling with the effort to hold back. Sophie digs her fingernails into the back of his neck, hoping she leaves a mark.
“If I say I believe you, will you just-”
Nate kisses her, and christ, Sophie wishes they’d kiss more often. He’s not in control when he kisses her, when he really kisses her. His focus slips into simple heat and intensity, and she lets him in. She lets the rest of the sentence go, even though that’s exactly what he wants. He’s given in. The kiss trails off into a gentle press of their mouths, and she licks his lower lip once before he moves back. He’s close and he’s finally desperate, and that feels good. That almost feels better than the fact of his body against hers, inside hers. Sophie’s always at a disadvantage because she has a sense of self-preservation, but she makes the most of it. She won’t close the distance between them and kiss him again because he’d pull back, but this close he almost is kissing her. This close, and even though the want on his face is for forgetting, he’s looking her in the eye. It’s always a good idea to know who you’re screwing.
“How far would you have gone?” she asks, fingers sneaking beneath his shirt and up his spine.
“I told you,” he says. His hand curves around her ass like he can’t get close enough.
“No.” Sophie’s voice catches. “No, how far if I hadn’t stopped you.” She reaches up, bracing a hand against the headboard, and Nate doesn’t answer, just shifts the angle. It’s a little rough and a lot good. She cants her hips and reaches between them, and she barely has to touch herself before she’s coming again, and he fucks her through it, through the little afterschocks that send sparks throughout her body.
Nate hides his face against her neck-she’s already asked too much-and moments later he’s coming silently, helplessly. His breath is warm and moist, ragged on her skin, and she strokes her hand up and down his back, his shirt bunching under her palm. He’s still for a moment, and she wraps herself around him.
Then Nate’s moving away, pushing himself off the bed with a sigh. Sophie reaches both hands up to the headboard, stretching out her body. Her dress is damp with sweat, bunched at the small of her back, and the bedspread is rumpled beneath her, rough against her oversensitive skin. Her bra digs in to her ribcage. She watches Nate get rid of the condom-his shirt is as crushed as her dress, and his pants are low on his hips. His face flushed and his hair wrecked. He pauses when he turns back, looking towards her but not at her.
“In the end it’s all just sex, isn’t it,” she says because jesus, they’re both a mess. She doesn’t reach for Nate when he comes back and stretches out next to her, over her. Nate leans in slowly to kiss her cheek, and the tenderness would break her in half if she believed it. He gets touch hungry after they screw, indulging himself, and Sophie’s already set better judgment aside. She offers up her body because there’s nothing else that she can do.
Nate kisses his way down her neck, each press of his mouth more definite than the last. He kisses her shoulder, her clavicle, her breast. He moves her bra aside to mouth her nipple, tongue and a little bit of teeth to make her ache. His finger teases the edge of her cunt, and she gasps, knocking his hand away.
“Have you played women like that?” Nate asks, shifting down the bed, and he pushes her dress up far enough to leave open-mouthed kisses across her stomach and pelvis. Sophie hums and strokes her fingers through his sweat damp hair. She thinks she can feel him smile against her skin.
“I’ve played women a couple times,” she says. “The opportunity doesn’t come up too often, but I never back away from a challenge.”
“How’d that go?” Nate looks up at her, and Sophie rubs her thumb along his jawline, over his lips.
“Don’t get any ideas down there,” she says, and he nips playfully at her thumb. She can’t stamp out the fondness on her face or in her chest.
“The women?” he asks.
“The women are no different than playing men I’m not interested in.” Sophie shifts and settles back onto the pillow. She doesn’t pull Nate away because his mouth feels good on her skin. It shouldn’t feel so good. He crawls up her body, kisses the hollow of her throat, and she goes boneless. Sophie knows that Nate likes her; she doesn’t want to think about whether he might love her. He’s not capable of more than this, this touch hunger and a few minutes kept separate from the rest of their lives. His palms are firm at the small of he back when he licks her navel. The last time they screwed, he left a hickey on the inside of her thigh. She’s strung out, and when he moves. He moves.
She’s already sensitive, too sensitive, and his mouth on her cunt is a shock.
“Oh wait-fuck.” Her whole body arches, but he has her hips pinned and a shoulder keeping her open. She digs her heel into his back, clutches the blanket, and knocks his head-not hard enough. Not hard at all. Sharp sparks lick through her body and flicker behind her eyelids. Her hips jerk, and there’s no finesse, can’t be with her body trying to buck him off. His fingers are in her again, not teasing just pressing. Nate knows how to play ruthless, and he knows how to play her, too. Her body winds tighter, and finally snaps free, coming so hard it hurts.
Sophie closes her eyes and breathes deep and ragged. Adrenaline heat prickles along her body, and there’s a twitch of pain when Nate’s fingers draw away.
Nate rests his head on her stomach and traces a nonsense pattern on her hip, fingertips barely touching her. Sophie laughs suddenly, sounding a little drunk.
“Don’t worry,” she says and strokes his shoulder. “You’ve always been interesting.”