Read Online The Bourne Retribution by Eric Van Lustbader - Free Book Online
Authors: Eric Van Lustbader
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nodded mechanically. His eyes never left the glistening hemispheres of her naked breasts.
“Hmmm. So how do you get your rocks off, Wendell?” She stared pointedly at the bulge in his trousers. “You’re not asexual, I can see that.” She sat up suddenly, her breasts bobbing provocatively. “Whores, prostitutes, call girls, escorts. They’re your sort of thing, aren’t they?”
Marsh did not reply, but his reddened face revealed the truth of her statement.
“No need to be embarrassed, Wendell. Sex is a natural human desire.” She rose out of the bath and, without toweling off, back arched, shoulders squared, powerful thighs propelling her forward, crossed the tile floor and pressed her gleaming naked body against his.
He gave a strangled cry but did not recoil. With a languid smile, Maricruz snaked her right arm between them and squeezed the growing lump between his thighs.
“Nice and thick, Wendell,” she whispered in his ear. “I like that.”
She pushed forward and Marsh took a step back. They continued this way, stuck together, his clothes now sopping wet, as she maneuvered him across her father’s vast bedroom. When the back of Marsh’s legs came up against the bed, Maricruz leaned her upper torso forward, applying enough pressure that he tumbled backward.
Sitting astride him, she began to pluck off his clothes. Water dripped from her hair, off the erect tips of her breasts. Slowly, his trembling hands rose up to cup her breasts.
“Do you like that, Wendell?” She stripped off his sodden shirt. “I’ll just bet you do.”
He squeezed her nipples and her eyes closed briefly.
Her hands worked faster, then, pulling down his zipper, unbuckling his belt, peeling his trousers away. She unfolded him like an origami sculpture.
She leaned into him, her flat belly fluttering.
“Here’s what I like, Wendell.”
T he percussion blast wave that burst outward when the missile impacted with Colonel Sun’s white Mercedes slammed into Bourne as he rolled across the pavement, shoved him off the road entirely and into a drainage ditch, where he was protected from the terrible effects of the shredded car, bits like shrapnel, like miniature missiles themselves, radiating out from the point of impact.
Numb and temporarily deaf, Bourne lay in the ditch unmoving. He watched the sky turn from orange to yellow to smoky gray, and then to the clear blue it had been in the first moments he had exited the tunnel.
He tried to shake off the numbness, felt only a rumble deep in his bones. Then all of a sudden his hearing returned with an unpleasant pop and, looking up, he saw the approaching police helo.
Scrambling out of the ditch, he ran toward the red-lacquered buildings, gilt signs, and narrow streets of Huangpu.
W hat was left of the white Mercedes was still burning hotly when the helo landed a safe distance away. The moment it alit, Colonel Sun pushed open the door and leapt out. He was followed closely by another man in army uniform.
“Who’s responsible for this?” he cried, pointing to the fire. “Give me a name!”
An officer appeared, saluted, and pointed to the soldier who had fired the missile. Colonel Sun stalked over to the man, who seemed to turn to water as Sun closed on him.
“What did you think you were doing?”
“Following orders, sir,” the soldier said fearfully.
Colonel Sun’s black eyes bored into the man with a terrible intensity. “Your orders were to aim in front of the vehicle, not at it.”
He lashed the man across the face, leaving a trail of fresh blood and ripped flesh. Thinking of what he was going to tell Ouyang, he hit the man again and again until he slid to his knees. Bourne wasn’t meant to die, not here, not now. Not yet. Colonel Sun kicked the man so hard he fell over backward.
“Get this dog out of my sight,” Sun snapped at the officer.
After the man was hustled away, Colonel Sun turned to the man who had been in the helo with him. “Captain
“Hmmm. So how do you get your rocks off, Wendell?” She stared pointedly at the bulge in his trousers. “You’re not asexual, I can see that.” She sat up suddenly, her breasts bobbing provocatively. “Whores, prostitutes, call girls, escorts. They’re your sort of thing, aren’t they?”
Marsh did not reply, but his reddened face revealed the truth of her statement.
“No need to be embarrassed, Wendell. Sex is a natural human desire.” She rose out of the bath and, without toweling off, back arched, shoulders squared, powerful thighs propelling her forward, crossed the tile floor and pressed her gleaming naked body against his.
He gave a strangled cry but did not recoil. With a languid smile, Maricruz snaked her right arm between them and squeezed the growing lump between his thighs.
“Nice and thick, Wendell,” she whispered in his ear. “I like that.”
She pushed forward and Marsh took a step back. They continued this way, stuck together, his clothes now sopping wet, as she maneuvered him across her father’s vast bedroom. When the back of Marsh’s legs came up against the bed, Maricruz leaned her upper torso forward, applying enough pressure that he tumbled backward.
Sitting astride him, she began to pluck off his clothes. Water dripped from her hair, off the erect tips of her breasts. Slowly, his trembling hands rose up to cup her breasts.
“Do you like that, Wendell?” She stripped off his sodden shirt. “I’ll just bet you do.”
He squeezed her nipples and her eyes closed briefly.
Her hands worked faster, then, pulling down his zipper, unbuckling his belt, peeling his trousers away. She unfolded him like an origami sculpture.
She leaned into him, her flat belly fluttering.
“Here’s what I like, Wendell.”
T he percussion blast wave that burst outward when the missile impacted with Colonel Sun’s white Mercedes slammed into Bourne as he rolled across the pavement, shoved him off the road entirely and into a drainage ditch, where he was protected from the terrible effects of the shredded car, bits like shrapnel, like miniature missiles themselves, radiating out from the point of impact.
Numb and temporarily deaf, Bourne lay in the ditch unmoving. He watched the sky turn from orange to yellow to smoky gray, and then to the clear blue it had been in the first moments he had exited the tunnel.
He tried to shake off the numbness, felt only a rumble deep in his bones. Then all of a sudden his hearing returned with an unpleasant pop and, looking up, he saw the approaching police helo.
Scrambling out of the ditch, he ran toward the red-lacquered buildings, gilt signs, and narrow streets of Huangpu.
W hat was left of the white Mercedes was still burning hotly when the helo landed a safe distance away. The moment it alit, Colonel Sun pushed open the door and leapt out. He was followed closely by another man in army uniform.
“Who’s responsible for this?” he cried, pointing to the fire. “Give me a name!”
An officer appeared, saluted, and pointed to the soldier who had fired the missile. Colonel Sun stalked over to the man, who seemed to turn to water as Sun closed on him.
“What did you think you were doing?”
“Following orders, sir,” the soldier said fearfully.
Colonel Sun’s black eyes bored into the man with a terrible intensity. “Your orders were to aim in front of the vehicle, not at it.”
He lashed the man across the face, leaving a trail of fresh blood and ripped flesh. Thinking of what he was going to tell Ouyang, he hit the man again and again until he slid to his knees. Bourne wasn’t meant to die, not here, not now. Not yet. Colonel Sun kicked the man so hard he fell over backward.
“Get this dog out of my sight,” Sun snapped at the officer.
After the man was hustled away, Colonel Sun turned to the man who had been in the helo with him. “Captain
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