Eleven: Day Three

Her legs, her thighs, and everything in between has haunted his dreams since he first laid eyes on her. He watched her strip down until there was nothing left covering her body.

She lifted her legs one by one into her bathtub filled with bubbly suds. She laid back and rubbed her arm with soap and lifted her leg and washed gently, in the morning before she goes to work and in the evening before she goes to sleep.

She always leaves the bathroom door open. He could see clearly every little detail of her routine. When she wrapped herself in a bathrobe and sat on the edge of her bed to put lotion all over her. She would smear the white thick liquid up to her inner thighs. He swallowed hard just thinking about it.

He didn't have to watch, but he did.

When she was sitting by the bed with her skirt lifted up, he crawled over to her and put his hands on her knees. She looked at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

He was hungry for her, his heart was racing. This was the woman he'd been watching for the past three months and had seeped into his thoughts like a ghost, haunted him even in his waking hours.

She slowly opened up her legs. She never took her eyes off him. "Do you want to touch me? Is that what you want?" she asked almost in a whisper.

He didn't respond. He can't do it. He must never let his feelings interfere with his job. His job was not done yet.

"It's okay ... do you want me?" her voice was seducing his senses.

He kissed her. Her hands were still bound. She lifted them up and he slipped his head in between. He was on top of her. She let him kiss her neck, she sighed.

"If I let you fuck me ... will you let me go?"

He didn't reply. He didn't want to let her go. It was surreal, he thought she would resist him, but she was spreading her legs beneath him and rubbing herself against him.

"Touch me ... I know you want to."

He pulled down her top with his teeth and now her breast was in his mouth. She liked it. He could see she was enjoying it. It was unreal, what was happening? Why isn't she resisting him? He was getting hard and her moans were making him harder.

"I'm not wearing any panties ... just put it inside me ..." she said.

He looked at her in the eyes. He was confused now, why was she so willing to do this. She was supposed to be afraid of him.

She bit her lip, her eyes were hazy, she was wet for him. "Come on Diego ... what are you waiting for?"

He gasped and pulled himself back. He jolted on the bed. He turned to his right and she was sleeping next to him. Her wrists were bound and shackled to the bedpost. It was a dream.

No one had called him by his name for 10 years. He was panting on the bed. He touched his crotch, it was wet. "Shit," he muttered. He hadn't had wet dreams for quite some time and for the past three months, his wet dreams were always about her.

He hit the cold shower to get the dream off his mind. He was getting too close to this job. It wasn't right. He can't let himself get attached to her. She was an order to be delivered but he had made himself vulnerable by letting her get into him.

He let the cold water run down his head, he took his time to pull himself together. His phone beeped. He opened the message.

"Drop off today. 3 PM same place. Don't be late."

This will be over soon, he thought. But he didn't feel relieved. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom.

She was awake. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands still bound. "Would you mind taking this off, please?"

Water was dripping from his hair, he came over to her and took off the handcuff. She was looking at him intently, his wet shirtless scarred body and the dark eyes behind his wet hair. He was standing so close, their face almost touched.

"I want to take a shower too," she said. She hadn't had a shower for three days.

He thought about it for a moment, then he nodded. "Make it quick, we're leaving soon."

She stared at him blankly, "The delivery is today?"

He didn't want to meet her gaze, he nodded again. He took a clean towel from the wardrobe and tossed it at her.

"Should I leave the door open?" she was hesitant.

His eyes were sharp, his body was screaming for her, he was at the verge of exploding once again if he sees just a hint of her bare skin. "No ... just don't try anything stupid."

There was a very small window in the bathroom that she couldn't even fit through. It'll be fine.

She went into the bathroom, he could hear the water running. He put on his clothes and started to pack up his stuff. He checked his guns and ammunition. He stuffed his duffel bag and load it in the car. He made sure they didn't leave a trace that can indicate who they were and where they were going.

He checked his phone again for a follow-up message. Nothing. He will have to dispose of it once the delivery is made. He reached into his bag and opened up the envelope he had been carrying. A passport by the name of Jordan Davies, his new identity, and a one-way ticket to a faraway island that no one has ever heard of.

He will make the drop and head to the airport. His Swiss bank account key, his secret locker key at a bank in Norway where he keeps his real identity. He was all set. This was it. He will start a new life, a clean slate where nobody knows who he is or where he's come from. He can be anyone he wants to be.

It's been 20 minutes and the water was still running.

"Shit!" he ran over to the bathroom and opened the door.

She gasped and covered her naked front when he came in.

He stopped and stared. His eyes were glued to her for a moment. He thought she had tried to escape. "What's taking so long? Make it quick," he said and closed the door. His heart pounded faster. She was the only thing that he didn't consider in his plan.