“Yes. They were close for a while, but had a falling out about ten years ago. They stopped talking to one another entirely. I figured if even my father refused to associate with him, there would be something worth exposing about Becker’s behavior or practices.”
“You were very right.”
“Mh-hm.”
“So, my heist was the fourth time. I guess that pushed him over the edge.”
“It makes sense, yes. He’s very influential, has his hands in many pockets, and is virtually untouchable. I’m not sure we can win against him.”
I twist my neck to look up at Lex, still lying over his chest. “We still need to try, baby. I want to be Andrea, and I want you to be Alexander. I want a real life with you, not a fake one. I want to be safe enough not to fear for my life every day.”
“I want that too. But we are David, and he’s Goliath.”
“I really need to get you a Bible.”
“Why?”
“Because David won, baby.”
“Ah. I didn’t know the full scope of that analogy.”
“He did. So maybe we can, too.”
He ponders for a moment, and I rest my head against his chest again, my eyes lost in the cloudless blue sky.
Norman Becker is one of the richest men in the country, the owner of the second biggest insurance company in North America. He also owns assets in retail, technology, and telecommunication. To the public eye, he’s discreet and unproblematic, minding his own lucrative business. His public relations team has to be one of the best in the world, given how quickly he bounced back from my heist a couple of months ago.
Maybe that’s why Lex is so worried. The man seems untouchable. Four attacks should have ruined his image and reputation, but they barely even made a dent. Is there something we haven’t uncovered yet that could do the trick?
With our two brains combined, I’m sure we’ll find a way. We don’t have a choice. It’s our lives that are at stake.
“This is the steep section,” I explain on our way back to the car. We only have a little over a mile left, and for about half of one, the path is narrow and rocky. Andrea’s initial enthusiasm and energy seem to have dimmed from when we first started, which is why I suggest, “You should go first, that way you can set the pace.”
“Good idea.” She lets go of my hand and moves forward.
Although pragmatic, this solution comes with a downside I hadn’t anticipated. Or is it an upside?
Andrea’s pants stick to her like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination. She hasn’t put her hoodie back on, preferring it in the bag, so I’m blessed with the sight of her perfect body. She’s gained some weight since we’ve arrived, which has given her hips their enchanting curves back. And her ass… It’s back to its former glory, round, generous, and beckoning touches and fondles, making my hands prickle with the need to grope it.
Especially going up as we are, which brings it into my field of view more often than I’m comfortable with. I should stop looking down as much as I do, but I’m only a man, helpless before such a spectacle. Within five minutes of our climb, I’m agonizingly hard. But the only thing I can do about it is tuck my cock in the waistband of my underwear and grit my teeth.
Halfway through the hardest part of the hike, when we stop to take a break and drink, I’m a fucking mess. Andrea is panting, her face flushed, veiled in perspiration, humid and wild tendrils framing it. She looks well-fucked, the illusion so perfect my brain can’t make the difference. And for the past five minutes, I’ve noticed the wetness between her legs—sweat, surely, but again, the lizard side of my brain doesn’t get the nuance.
“Well, it isn’t that hard,” Andrea says with pride, looking back at the path we climbed.
“Speak for yourself,” I mumble.
“Aw, are you struggling, baby? Are all those big muscles heavy to carry?”
“Did you have to wear those pants?”
Surprise flashes across her face, then realization, then mischief. She looks down at my crotch, her grin widening when she notices the hard bulge there.
“I take it you like them a little too much?”
“Keep walking, you brat.”
She sends me a malicious look over her shoulder as she complies. Within a minute, I realize I’ve made another strategic mistake. Like the fucking tease she is, she now gives a hypnotizing sway to her hips, angling her back in a manner that accentuates the perfect shape of her ass. Alright, I can’t do this. Fuck those two extra days of waiting. The elastic pressing onto the head of my cock is torture, and it’s fucking embarrassing how wet it’s getting.
