WET WORK: Part 13 of 68
“But ...” Aiko searched her wet work.
The Kipa glowered. Without looking away from her, he set his teacup on the dark oak stand next to the sofa. “I said sleep.” “I've received information on another job. From Mr. Park. A purple. From the Academy.” The Kipa stood up. He was tall. Taller even than Aiko. An angry reprisal readied on his tongue, then relented. “Where?” he asked. “Tani District. Trying to pass.” “No.” “I can get out undetected. You won't be blamed.” The Kipa laughed. “After the last three missions? No. Maybe after Esperanza.” “She’s arranged to be smuggled to Libere this evening.” ~Lie.~ Aiko jumped. This time, he took note. “What the hell was that?” “I … I'm not sure what you mean. Sorry.” A hint of a coy smile flashed across Aiko's face, followed by a demure bow.
He gave her a contemptuous smirk. “Nice try. Too bad I'm not Japanese.” “Of course,” Aiko lowered her eyes, crossed her hands in front of her body. “...my apologies.” She bowed deeper this time.
The Kipa glared at her, probed her with ruthless eyes as he moved closer, until Aiko could sense his breath on her face, hot and sweet as honeyed tea. He placed a finger under her chin. She lifted her eyes and flashed a shy smile, but he only answered with the same steely stare.
A broad palm reached between Aiko’s shoulders, then slid up to grab a fistful of glossy black hair, short at the nape of the neck where her A-line angled sharp. He yanked her head back, still searching her eyes. But they betrayed no secrets. His other hand slipped beneath her tight black top and his tongue jutted out, short and wide and pasty. He pressed it hard against her pale collarbone and forged a tepid, clammy trail all the way to her earlobe. Aiko moaned, as if she enjoyed it. “Strip,” the Kipa said. Aiko complied. But his cold, hard eyes never left hers ...