Disclaimer: The Equalizer and all its characters are property of Universal and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.


Quick Study

As much as Pete liked Robert, she was feeling very uncomfortable acting as hostess to her second guest, her odious former boss, Control. As she set the coffee down next to the bowl of fruit on the table by her living room couch, she noticed that her hands were shaking slightly and made the effort to steady them.

Robert McCall smiled up at her from the club chair and took the cup she handed to him. Holding another cup, doing her best to overcome her aversion to him, she turned to Control who was sitting on the couch. As usual, he sat in a slumped position, looking comfortable. Realizing that she would have to sit on the couch with him or risk looking rude, she moved as smoothly as she could and sat down as far as possible from her former employer.

"Pete," Robert started, looking as congenial as he could, which when he turned the charm on was considerable, "as you know, I normally don't do any favors for the Company-"

At that Control let out a grunt of agreement and Robert glanced at Control with evident chagrin. Pete kept her eyes on Robert.

"But a way to infiltrate a Colombian drug cartel seems to have been dropped as manna from heaven into our lap. I have to agree with the facts, we and our restaurant are in the perfect position to get friendly with Benito "Benny" Molinero."

Pete shook her head, "Really Robert, I had no idea who he was when he reserved the restaurant for a private party. He'd been coming in for months for drinks or meals and seemed fine to me."

"When Benny hits a new country, he likes to find a quiet out of the way place to drink or occasionally take a woman." Control said, setting down his cup. "He chooses his new hangout with the eye that his usual business acquaintances wouldn't look for him there. I was surprised when the name of O’Phelan’s first came up in our intelligence report on him last May."

Annoyance shot through her, "You mean to tell me that you've known about a drug dealer and killer coming to our place for months and never said a word to anyone?" She shot a quick look at Control, but let Robert see the full force of her ire.

"We can't have it both ways," Robert set his cup on the table, "I've told Control time and time again not to involve me in the Company's dirty little secrets. As long as Mr. Molinero's presence posed no danger to the restaurant or our patrons, there was really no reason for Control to involve me, or us."

"But now there is?" Pete asked.

Control folded his arms and sat deeper into the couch, "Benny's finished with his contacts and plans in New York City. The reason he reserved O’Phelan’s for next Wednesday night is to get all his business partners together and drink to their new allegiances. We have word that when he uses his hide-away as the place for the final meeting, he also feels comfortable enough to invite his contacts from inside the different embassies in that city. If we can install a bugging network in this restaurant for that night, we'll be able to hear every conversation between every person in the room."

"I agree with Control," Robert spoke up with a sigh, "it'll be a goldmine of intelligence information, both to use against Molinero's organization, and to learn about any friendships between embassy personal who are willing to deal in the dirty underbelly of international affairs to make money."

Pete didn't like it. She had been unceremoniously pushed out of the Company just for falling in love with another agent. Now years later she was being asked to help the place and the man who had turned a back to her and Mark. Where was the Company when Mark was dying? Who helped her then?

Robert leaned forward in his chair opposite her. He studied her face, and as usual he seemed to be able to read her mind.

"We wouldn't be doing this to help the Company, we'd be doing this to help stop the sale of drugs and to stop the personnel of foreign embassies from harming this country. We'd be doing it to help people, not the Company."

Pete felt torn. Helping people was what Robert had dedicated his life to, but the idea of working with Control again made her skin crawl. She suddenly needed to do something with her hands so she picked up a tangerine from the fruit bowl on the table and began to peel it.

A question came to her.

"Isn't it rather a coincidence that from all of the restaurants in New York City, our place is picked for the big meeting. I mean, if he's a drug lord, then he has access to information and could have found out who really owns the place."

"We've taken that into consideration," Control said, "but even if Benny did some background research on O’Phelan’s, he'd only see your name as owner. And even if he dug deeper and found McCall's name as silent partner, McCall's been retired from the espionage world for years now, it would take someone who had a long memory to remember him. And even if one of his men brought this information to him, he'd be more likely to read about McCall being the Equalizer. Benny would most likely laugh someone like that off – apologies McCall."

Robert smiled, "No apology needed." He turned his attention to Pete. "We have taken into account that Benny might be aware of my connections and might be, in some sort of outlandish way, using our restaurant for some unknown purpose. We know that the situation might be dangerous, that's why we're here, to make you aware of what's going on and to get your agreement to go through with it."

The two men picked up their coffee cups to drink, and Pete kept peeling the seedless tangerine, well aware that two sets of eyes were on her trying to read her thoughts. The smell of the citrus somehow comforted her. She divided the fruit into sections, ate one and set the rest down onto a napkin on the table in front of her.

She cleared her throat. "Since I've already OK'd Mr. Molinero's hiring the restaurant, I can't see the problem." She smiled at Robert. "I think we can get O’Phelan’s rigged up nicely."

Robert beamed back at her.

"Are you so sure you can handle being the contact with Benny, now that you know the truth about him?" Control said.

Pete felt her old anger at him well up. "That's not even a question. I've done harder jobs before. As I see it, all I need to do with Molinero is to simply continue to act as the owner of the restaurant he wants to rent for a night." She made sure she glared at Control. "I can do that well enough."

"I'm not so sure. It's been years since you acted as an undercover agent. Are you sure you can be dispassionate and cool with whatever unforeseen happenings might come up?"

Pete felt the sting of that insult.

"Control!" Robert snapped, "Pete has been superb in helping me with my cases for a number of years. If I didn't think she could handle it, I would have sent you and your idea packing."

A small beeping sound started to chirp somewhere inside the room. Pete was intrigued when Robert cursed under his breath and dove his hand into his jacket pocket. He took out a small device and the chirping became louder.

"I bought a pager in case any of my clients need to get in touch with me in an emergency." He looked at it. "I have a client who is due in court tomorrow to testify against her former employer on sexual harassment charges. She's called in a 411, which means she's feeling unsure of herself and has some questions." He got off the couch and went to the side chair where he had left his coat. "Let me go see her in person. She's only a few blocks away. I'll just pop there, calm her down and be right back to talk to you, Pete. Control, do you need a ride?"

Glancing at his watch, Control shrugged. "No, I told my driver that I'd only be a few minutes here. He should be downstairs in ten minutes or so. I'll leave then, if that's OK with our hostess."

Pete flushed. She never trusted Control and after the way he acted when the Company threw her and Mark out, she never forgave him, but it would be less bother to let him sit for a few minutes than make a scene and insist he leave right away.

She saw that Robert was watching her. She forced a smile, "That's fine." She pushed another section of tangerine into her mouth and chewed it. She wanted to look nonchalant.

"All right then, don't get up, I'll see myself out." He smiled as he put his coat on and headed for the door.

Before the door had even shut, Pete found that Control had moved towards her on the couch. Mildly surprised at his action, Pete watched as he reached for a section of her tangerine. Pete was just about to get up when Control slid even closer to her and pressed his body against hers, trapping her against the corner of the couch.

She was flabbergasted.

He pressed harder against her and held the tangerine section up in front of her face. "I like the way you eat this," he said.

Startled, she nearly laughed in his face. "For God’s sake Control, what are you doing?" she said.

"Eat it for me. I want to watch."

Disgust and annoyance shot through her. "What the hell are you playing at?" She looked into his eyes and couldn't read anything in them. They seemed flat and lifeless.

Fleetingly , she thought to call out to Robert to come back but Pete discarded that idea. When O’Phelan’s had been redesigned, she had the builders install thick soundproofing on her apartment over the restaurant so that she wouldn’t be bothered by any of the noise downstairs. Robert would never hear her call out to him.

"I was just getting up –," Pete tried to rise but Control used his elbow to imprison her.

What the –?

"Eat this for me," he said, pressing the fruit closer to her mouth, "I want to see you take it into your mouth."

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Pete sputtered and tried to slap his hand away from her face. Control caught her wrist, and when Pete tried to use her other fist to hit him, Control easily caught that too.

Confusion overtook her. What was going on? As far as she knew, Control wasn’t the type to do something like this. She only had a moment to notice that his hands and fingers were large and very powerful. Before she knew it, he had pushed her to the side, twisted her arms behind her back and seized both her hands in one of his. His hand held her wrists tight behind her as he forced her to sit up.

"For God’s sake, what the Hell are you doing?" she shouted, her voice overflowing with anger and disbelief. Kicking her legs wildly, she tried to force him away, but he only responded by throwing one of his long legs over her lap. Her legs were pressed down and together. He was so much larger and stronger than she was that she could hardly move at all now.

"Stop this!" Pete screeched, her breath coming in short bursts while she tried to free herself. Control just calmly sat pressed against her as if he were a cowboy over a roped calf.

She stopped struggling and glared at Control. He gave her a small, icy smile. Then, with his free hand he picked up a piece of tangerine and again held it up to Pete.

"I said I wanted you to eat this for me, so I could watch you take it into your mouth." He stared deeply into her eyes and murmured, "Eat it for me."

Pete gasped at the intimacy of his remark. "What’s wrong with you?" she said and Control only pressed himself against her with more weight.

She could smell him, a mixture of expensive whisky, fine cigars, and the warm smell of the coffee she had just served him. Underneath though, there was a hint of a masculine musk, and Pete found herself responding to the feel of his strong body pressed against hers.

Disgust poured through her.

"God damn it let me go!" she spat, "Robert won’t like – "

"Robert's not here." Control tightened the grip he had on her, it felt as if iron bands were binding her wrists together. "I’m here now, and we’re all alone." The leg he had over her lap tightened again and she felt him press his groin against her. She gasped. He was erect and hard against her.

"Stop this right this instant," Pete said, doing her best to keep her anger and confusion under control. "You’ve got no right to –"

He pulled his leg even tighter around her and started to move, rocking his hips with a gentle motion. The movement and the feel of his rock-hard, seemingly enormous erection overwhelmed Pete and she swallowed a yelp. A dark heat electrified her hips, pooling between her legs. She had been without a man for almost a year now. It had been too long. Outside her conscious control, her body was responding to the stimulus.

His face was close to hers and he bared his teeth in what might have been the most frightening expression she had ever seen on a living man. "How many times have I dealt with women like you?" he said, his breath rasping in his throat.

Her stomach turned. What was he talking about? She tried to move, but that only made him press against her more. Pete felt the sting of tears of frustration start and she clamped her eyes shut. His rhythmic movements stopped.

She immediately sucked in a breath and screamed loud and long. The sound reverberated within the room, but Pete knew it didn't go any farther.

Breathing rapidly in the now silent room, Pete felt weak and vulnerable. What was happening to her? Had Control finally lost his mind? How many rumors about his ruthless abilities as a Black OP had she dismissed?

She opened her eyes in fear. Maybe he really was a mad killer?

He shifted in his seat. Afraid to look at him, she kept her eyes averted. Her heart banged in her chest.

Control pressed his mouth against her ear. She cringed. "Can you guess how many times I’ve dealt with women like you in the past?"

His hot breath and tone of bitterness made her timid and she closed her eyes in apprehension.

"You females insist that you can handle being part of the Company and we believe you." he growled, "Then, after we invest months, or years, of time and effort, what happens?" He shook her and she felt like a rag doll in the hands of a demon child. "You meet a man and," his voice came out a sarcastic, high pitched hag's voice, "you fall in love!"

Her eyes popped open. He was talking about her and Mark!

"Stop it," Pete managed to whisper.

"Then any loyalty or pledges that you gave to the Company are forgotten. You simply must have that man, even if it means ruining your career and his life. You throw all of it away just because you can't help but spread your legs!"

The Bastard!  

"Shut up!" her own bitterness colored her tentative voice, "you’ve got no right to –"

Control held the tangerine slice up to her mouth and Pete clamped her lips shut. "I want to see you lick it," he said, rubbing the fruit over her mouth. She stifled a sob. "Then I want you to suck some of the juice out of it. And after, I want to watch as you to take it all the way into your mouth and eat it." He nuzzled her ear, and chills coursed through her body. "Then maybe, " he crooned, "Maybe I’ll take pity on you and let you go."

Trembling coursed through her and suddenly she was ashamed of herself, her weakness. She had always expected herself to meet any situation coolheaded and calm, but now all she felt was panic. Tears started to build up in her eyes, threatening to spill.

No!

She wouldn’t permit herself to give in. Abruptly a spark of anger flared and she turned her face away, twisting her neck as far as she could. "Leave me alone!" she said through her clenched jaw.

"Giving me orders are you?" Control's voce became harsher, and the hand that held her wrists in an iron grip behind her pulled down, forcing her to arch her back. She felt the material of her blouse strain over her chest.

Breathing hard, Control reached his arm around her and rubbed the section of fruit over her lips. Pete clamped her mouth shut even tighter and kept her head turned away. She struggled to get free, but the hand that held her wrists wouldn’t weaken. He held her fast.

Then she felt something move over her chest. She turned her head to look. Control was unbuttoning her blouse! She felt the fabric give way, exposing her bra. Her breath caught in her throat when his hand dived into a cup and with a rough tug, he pulled a breast free. Pete felt her nipple tighten in the open air. Her heart hammering at the molestation, she screamed through her closed mouth and redoubled her efforts free herself.

"Quiet!" Control barked. He pinched her nipple and the pain made Pete quiet. Then he started to knead the flesh.

Her mind went blank. The twin sensations of horror and humiliation increased throughout her body. Her head rolled back and she closed her eyes. Then, without realizing she was going to do it, she screamed like a trapped animal.

As if hearing her voice from a distance, she heard her sobs turn into groans. She felt her will leave her body…

Control shifted his position to lean more of his chest on top of her. The pressure of his weight forced the breath from her lungs. She felt his hot mouth sucking on her breast, his hand snaked under the waistband of her skirt, moving down over her lower belly. But Pete could no longer think and she didn’t move.

As he tongued the nipple and sucked at her flesh, moans pushed out of her mouth coming from somewhere deep within her chest. The groans subsided into whimpers as Control’s ministrations on her breast suddenly increased in strength. Pete couldn’t help but open her eyes to look as she felt a sharp twinge on her nipple.

At first all she saw were his teeth pressing into her flesh, his lips drawn back in a feral twist. But then her eyes traveled up his face an inch and she saw Control’s cool, blue, dead eye staring directly at her face. The expression was blank, watching her. It reminded her of the eye of a lizard, a cold blooded thing.

Her stomach turned and she regained some of her sense.

"Let me go, you bastard," she seethed, "I’ll do anything you want to that damned piece of fruit, just as long as you get off me!"

Control lifted his mouth off her breast and Pete watched a string of spittle stretch from his lips to her nipple. It finally broke to land in a puddle on her skin. Bile burned at the back of her throat.

"Here," Control said, pushing the section of fruit at her mouth again, "First lick it, then suck at it and then I want you to take it all into your mouth." He pushed his groin against her again and he grinned. "Take your time. I’m going to enjoy this."

Pete took a deep breath and swallowed, pushing the nausea back down. She had no other options, she could do this. She would do anything he asked to get him off her.

Opening her mouth, she stuck her tongue out to touch the tangerine. Control grunted with pleasure and lifted the fruit an inch farther away. Pete had to extend her tongue all the way out of her mouth to reach it. She managed to touch the tip of the fruit but he started to move it in a circle, smoothing it over and around her tongue. His breathing became faster and deeper. She had to bob her head back and fourth to keep near the fruit. Control kept it moving for what seemed like hours until Pete felt a shudder go through him and he coughed.

"Now, suck on it," his voice was hoarse when he spoke. Wiping the tangerine roughly over her lips, Pete saw that he was staring with an overwhelming intensity at her mouth.

Pete gently caught half the section of the tangerine and drew it to her teeth. Trying not to taste too much of that now horrible acidic juice, Pete made overloud sucking noises and Control soon pulled it away.

"Now, take it all into your mouth. Let me see how you do it with all the men you service."

Pete nearly spat it away. All the men? What in the world was he talking about? She hadn’t taken on more than three lovers in all the years since Mark’s death, and that included Robert. The thought ringed in her mind. Could that be it, why he was doing this to her? Some sort of jealousy towards Robert?

She closed her eyes again and regained some composure. All she had to do was put on a show and then he’d leave her alone. What else could she do?

She felt Control place the tangerine section on her lips and she let it drop into her mouth.

The moment she bit down on the fruit and the acidic taste of the juice filled her mouth, she felt as if an earthquake shook her body. Suddenly, Control was no longer pressing up against her. She felt the cool air hit the heat of her skin where his body had covered hers. She could move her arms.

Confused, she opened her eyes and saw that Control was standing behind the high back of the club chair on the other side of the coffee table. In her surprise she gasped, and the tangerine slipped backwards, lodging in her throat. She started to choke

Panic overtook her and she bolted upright. With one cough the masticated fruit flew from her mouth and landed on the coffee table by her knees. She gasped for air and coughed, and grabbed a napkin to wipe her nose and face.

When she finished coughing and looked up again, Control was standing in the same place behind the chair, wiping his hands with a handkerchief.

What the Hell was going on?

"You bastard" she screamed, the hysteria in her voice startled even her. "Now get out!"

"Is that what you call dealing with a situation in a professional and calm way?" His voice was composed, and no emotion was evident on his face except for a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Get out!" she managed to scream again.

"Is this what you call being dispassionate and cool?"

Pete’s mind began to work again. What was he saying?

"Is this how you’d handle Benny Molinero or one of his henchmen if they caught you off guard?"

Her head spun. "This was a test?" she asked. Dumbfounded, her mind wasn’t straight enough to think anything through. "But it can’t be a test. I wasn’t prepared. I was talking to you and Robert, trusted friends –"

"Since when have you considered me a trusted friend?"

Pete looked up at him, disorientated. Her mind was whirring.

"Since when have you ever trusted me?"

"But—"

"It looks like you’ve lost all your instincts for danger, all your training to be prepared for trouble whatever the occasion."

The idea that this had all been a test and that she had failed so miserably hit her like a punch in her gut. Her mouth gaped open and she looked around the room for something to grab onto to steady her racing mind. Then she noticed that her breast was still exposed, the nipple an angry red jutting outward from her white flesh. With an embarrassed whimper she adjusted herself and buttoned her blouse. She saw that her thighs were uncovered almost to her groin. She pulled her skirt down.

Control’s voice was stern, "Robert and I might have surprised you with this visit, but from the moment you came in with the coffee, all of your choices were bad. It was behavior unbefitting a Company trained operative."

He was calling her incompetent!

"But I hadn’t heard about the job or Benny Molinero’s involvement yet! I thought it was just coffee with friends," Pete thought she sounded like an idiot. Her voice was high-pitched and whiney.

Control stared at her. "But I was never a friend to you, nor someone you liked or trusted. You’ve always thought of me as if I were a monster, right? When you saw that we would have to share the couch, you should have pulled up another chair to sit in. But you didn’t – your first mistake. Your house-frau politeness didn’t want to make trouble. Politeness overcame your instinct for safety."

Pete remained silent, remembering that this was just the way the instructors in the Company graded you after a live scenario test.

"Then, second mistake: when Robert had to leave, I asked if I could stay here alone with you and wait for my driver. Again your middleclass politeness made you stop listening to your instincts for trouble. Even though you never trusted me, you questioned the idea that I would possibly do anything to you. Your desire to be ‘nice and polite,’ a ‘proper lady’ stopped you from asking me to leave with Robert."

With his back to Pete, Control stepped to the side chair and picked up his coat. Still with his back toward her he said, "Third mistake: when I held the fruit up to you the first time and requested you eat it, your hands were still free. You could have taken the tangerine from me, gotten up, laughed my request off and diffused the situation. You then might have been able get to the door to catch Robert who was still in the building. He would have stopped me and you would taken care of a bad situation."

His long winter coat buttoned, he tuned to her, "And the fourth and worst mistake: When I opened your blouse and was sucking on your breast, all question of what I intended to do to you was gone. I could not be viewed as anything but an acute threat. You knew that I was in the position to do anything I wanted to you, but all you did was close your eyes and turn your head – you gave in. I even felt you tilt your hips up, positioning your pelvis to accommodate the upcoming sexual abuse. You abdicated all power to me then. You gave up protecting yourself."

Pete clenched her mouth shut at the words. It was true. She was the perfect victim: passive and excited, confused and ready to help in her own downfall!

"If you had remembered any of your training you would have at least kept your eyes open!" Control said. "My throat was exposed to you. I made certain that my jugular vein was within the reach of your jaws, the only part of you body left free that you could have used to protect yourself. You could have used your teeth to tear into my throat – but you didn’t. Instead you believed my promise to let you go later. You waited for me to finish with you, even going so far as to follow my bidding and perform fellatio on a piece of fruit."

Pete began trembling and muffled a single sob into a napkin. It was all true. She hadn’t called on her training to protect her. She had forgotten that she had been taught to defend her life up the last moment.

"If that’s how you’d do the job, then it’s all but a certainty that Robert and I would find your mutilated, soiled, dead body stuffed into a corner if Benny or one of his friends decided to "play" with you."

Control walked to her front door. "Robert believes in you, but I had a suspicion that you’ve been dealing with his benign Equalizer clients too long. Some might be killers, but few, if any, are on a par with the viciousness of a Benny Molinero and his associates."

The feeling of humiliation and shame at her dismal showing of herself was beginning to turn to anger. She had been damn good agent once.

He shrugged. "I suppose Robert is certain that he’d be able to watch over you and keep you safe on this job. I, on the other hand, believe that if the worst can happen, it will. I’ll only use people who can take care of themselves."

"I can take care of myself," Pete protested, her voice stronger than even she expected it to be. "I just needed that wake-up call. I’ll remember my training." She glanced toward Control, who was still standing near her door. "And this scene jump-kicked me into shaping up, taught me a lesson. I’m a quick learner. I know I can do the job."

"Tell you what . . ." Control took a pair of gloves out of his coat pocket and slowly put them on, all the while staring at her.

Alarms went off in Pete’s head. Why is he putting his gloves on while still in the house? She knew her legs were still weak, she could feel them wobble as she sat there. She’d never be able to outrun him if he made a grab at her. Then she remembered her knitting bag was tucked under the coffee table at her knees. Dammit, they were right there all along, and she never thought about using them to defend herself! Idiot!

"Yes?" she said with an even tone to Control, while she moved her hand closer to bag holding the twelve inch knitting needles.

"I’ll assign Sterno to assist McCall in setting the bugs in O’Phelan’s for Benny’s big night. Sterno doesn’t radiate enough machismo to even register on Benny’s radar, and he’s one of the most cautious and competent undercover agents I have. If Sterno thinks that you’ve honed your survival instinct enough, I’ll permit you to remain as part of this mission."

Control took one quick step towards Pete and she flinched and grabbed at the knitting bag – and missed!

"Finally!" Control said, as he stepped back towards the door, "You finally remembered the knitting needles peeking out of that bag. Better late than never." He put his hands on the knob of the door and stopped again. "Of course it’s up to you whether you tell Robert about my actions tonight, but I suggest that it might be better for you to keep quiet about it."

Tell Robert! She suddenly felt a surge of power. Control wasn’t afraid of much in the world, but he might be afraid of Robert McCall and how he would react to his acting out an attempted rape on her.

"I don’t think Robert would approve of what you did to me. You put me through a sexual abuse scenario. Robert would be furious." Maybe this was a way to get back at Control!

He shrugged, "Oh, he might become enraged at me for testing you in the manner that I did, but in the long run, he’ll see that I did it to make you more aware of the dangers you might face. He’ll see that what happened here tonight might help save your life in the future."

"Maybe," Pete said, clutching at the idea that she had regained some control of the situation. If Control was afraid of Robert’s reaction --.

"But what it will definitely do is make him question using you in any future Equalizer jobs. You failed to protect yourself miserably tonight. Robert would never use you again if he thought there was a chance that your lack of expertise might leave yourself – or his clients – open to danger."

Humiliation overwhelmed her once more. He was right, Robert would never fully trust her again if he knew that she did such an abysmal job of defending herself.

Heartsick, Pete saw that Control had won.

"I won’t be telling anyone about what happened tonight – ever," she said.

Control nodded. "Wise decision." He opened her door and walked out, slamming it shut behind him.

The quiet of the apartment pressed on her and Pete felt any control she had begin to drain away. The trembling started again and she felt hysteria was close behind it.

"NO!" she screamed and beat her fists onto the couch. "I won’t fall apart now," she vowed to the empty apartment. "Robert said he was going to return here soon. I need to get myself together. I need to act like the professional I once was," – she slammed her fist into the cushions – "And will be again."

Taking deep breaths, she steadied herself. Once her legs stopped shaking, she’d clean up the room and wait for Robert to return. By the time he got back, she’d be cool and collected, ready to talk to him about anything in the world.

She took another series of calming breaths and smoothed down her hair. She’d have to check her make-up too. As she sat, her body still vibrated from the adrenaline rush. She tried to regain some composure and re-tucked in her shirt then she smoothed the fabric of the skirt down.

What was that?

She felt a damp spot on the side of her skirt. Did she get juice from that damned fruit there? She lifted the fabric and sniffed at it. The smell of musk hit her and she dropped the material. It was from Control. It was where he had pressed himself against her!

So that was why he stood behind the high backed chair as he told her about his little test! She had thought it was strange. And that’s why he kept his back to her as he walked to get his coat on and only turned around after he had buttoned it up tight!

Control, that bastion of cold professionalism, the leader or the deadliest Black Operations Agents in the world, while teaching her a lesson about will and self control – had messed his pants!

She started to laugh. It was all too delicious. As he was humiliating her, he had ejaculated in his pants like pubescent adolescent and had humiliated himself!

Aware that she was laughing far too hard, alone in an empty room, Pete let some of the tension drain away.

She would need to make plans to recapture her well-honed survival instincts

She’d never dry-clean that skirt. She’d keep it – for an emergency. Who knew? Having evidence of Control’s lack of control might come in very handy some day!

She felt calmer now that she had made a decision. When Robert returned to her apartment, she’d be composed and calm, as if she had nothing in the world on her mind…

Looking in front of her, Pete saw the coffee table with the wilted piece of tangerine on it.

She needed to regain her ability to control any given scenario. Manipulating the situation and getting to an objective was the correct way for a trained Company agent to think.

Pete smiled. She’d start practicing being in charge again right away. When Robert returned, she would invite him to stay and then, she would create the mood and the direction of the evening.

Before the night was over, by swaying the situation, her will would make sure they both enjoyed a night filled with whatever she desired.

Whatever she desired…

Perhaps even guide Robert into a session of tangerineing. 

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