Interim Plans

Author's note: This story picks up the tale of best-selling author Vince Flynn's super-agent character, Mitch Rapp. At the conclusion of Consent to Kill, Mitch has suffered terrible personal tragedy. This story fills in the blanks with a bit of what might have happened to Mitch in the gap between Flynn's novels. If you're a fan of Mr.Flynn's excellent work, or even if you're not, you may enjoy this erotic side-story.

***

The Silver City wasn't a typical venue for Mitch Rapp. Even in his younger, single days, when he had opportunities to fraternize with the men of the Special Forces community, he rarely joined the guys at the local gentleman's club. Had had been in dozens over the years, socially, and while working various ops. But he was here for different reasons this time.

Since Anna was murdered months before, Mitch had delved himself into the deepest, darkest emotional place he could be. Even worse than the loss of his high school sweetheart, the loss of his wife and unborn child left a gaping hole in his heart, and in his life. He didn't care for much of anything these days. Only the rage he felt for justice and redemption kept him from looking for reasons to live. He had punished the people that took his wife from him, and even learned that Anna's heart could channel through him, but he would never live the life he had dreamed of with her.

He spent most of his time now travelling to obscure places. He was rarely in communication with Langley, just enough that they knew he was still alive. He had reverted back to his covert operative ways...disappearing into his surroundings, changing identities, and never staying in the same place too long. Some days he worked out furiously, letting his temper fuel his exercise. Other days, he didn't move from whatever bed he claimed the previous night. Occasionally though, he would seek the beauty of the female form at a strip club.

This night, he was cleaned up, well dressed, and in a familiar city along his extended road trip. He pulled his silver Audi into the valet, and locked his pistol and paddle holster in the custom made lockbox in the center console. He hated to be without it, but strippers would probably freak out at the discovery of a sidearm. As he stepped through the door, he remembered why he liked the place. It was upscale, and as classy as this type of business gets. Well decorated, with enough light to see that it was clean, but dark enough to keep a little privacy. After paying his cover, the leggy blonde at the front desk started to offer to find him a seat. But she was interrupted by two of the dancers entering the reception area.

"Hey Sweetie," greeted one of the dancers, "Are you all alone?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, follow me," she instructed. "We'll take good care of you."

Finding a seat against the wall of a larger room, Mitch was as comfortable as he could be in such a place. He was seated at a small table for two, with his back to the wall. It was one of the darkest areas in the room, about 20 feet from the main stage. The place was about half full, mostly of men. But there were a few women mixed in as well, including a larger group of about ten people. They appeared to be having a great time, talking and laughing loudly, and probably spending a lot of money since they had the attention of quite a few of the dancers.

There were plenty of dancers around, though. One on the center stage, one on each of two small platforms on either side of the room, and at least a dozen more scattered about the room. After getting his drink from the waitress, he was greeted by several dancers offering lapdances. But he was just settling in, and politely refused for several minutes, until his second round was on its way. Just as the waitress swapped his empty glass for a full one, a lovely brunette stopped in her tracks in front of him. He looked up to see piercing green eyes, and immediately he thought of Anna. As she stepped closer, he shook the thought from his head, and instead to a long look at this women from head to toe. She was tanned and extremely fit; she wore only a dark blue halter top dress that barely covered her. Looking down the length of her smooth muscular legs, which were flattered by her platform high heels, he immediately pegged her for a runner.

She smiled and said, "Mind if I join you?"

"Please."

As she turned sideways, Mitch could see that her dress was completely backless except for the tight skirt covering her ass. She sat down across his lap, and leaned in close to his ear.

"That was quite a look. Did you like what you saw?"

"Very much so. You're in incredible shape."

"Thank you," she affectionately replied. She moved his hand to her leg, and pressed hers into his chest. "Mmm. You're in pretty good shape yourself."

"Yeah, well, I try." Mitch dismissed the compliment as standard operating procedure, especially for a girl whose job it was to make men feel like they had a chance with her.

"I'm Veronica."

"Mitch."

"Mitch, why are you here all by yourself?"

"Just on a business trip."

"Well, you mind if I keep you company for a while?"

"I would love that." Mitch was looking into her green eyes again. Now that she was so close, he could see a few faint freckles on her cheeks and nose. His mind raced, and he reminded himself that this woman didn't look anything like Anna. But he was only human. And his body wanted her in his arms.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, and brought his attention back to reality.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, "I just uh....You have great legs. Are you a runner?"

"Yeah. I work out a lot too," she responded, and started easing off his lap.

Just then Mitch noticed that one song ended, and as another started, the DJ was yelling some nonsense into the microphone.

"Why don't I dance for you, and you can see some more," Veronica stood up in front of him, still leaning over with her hands on his chest.

"Absolutely," was all he could muster.

As Veronica started the erotic swaying of her hips that were the trademark of her art, Mitch followed her movement and took a big gulp of his drink. She stepped between his legs, and moved his knees apart with her hands, forcing him to slide down in his chair a bit. She slowly turned around, swaying her ass side to side, and then set her but down on his lap.

Mitch couldn't decide what to pay attention to. Her ass still swayed, and she ground each cheek into his groin. He figured it would only be a minute before she felt his bulge grinding back into her. But he was also mesmerized by her completely bare back. She had flawless skin, and sculpted shoulders that signaled she frequented the weight room. She leaned back into him, resting her shoulders on his chest, and laid her head on his shoulder. She turned her head and breathed into his ear.

"You are amazing," he told her. And he meant it. She was writhing her body on top of his, and this woman's touch lit a fire inside him. He was no rookie in a strip club, but he was already incredibly turned on, and she still had her dress on.

She slowly sat up, driving her ass into his groin. She raised her arms slowly over her head, gathering her dark hair, revealing her long neck. With one hand she undid the clasp of her halter top, and then slowly leaned back onto him. Holding her dress to her chest with one hand, she wrapped the other around his head, and made sure he was watching.

He looked down the length of her body on top of him, and she peeled her dress down, exposing her round breasts. They were perfect. Fake. But perfect. And Mitch didn't care. Her nipples stood atop perfect little areolas, pointing at the ceiling. He fought the urge to bring his hands up her sides. She sat up again, slid her dress down to her ankles, and bent over. Her g-string covered ass a mere inches from his face, Mitch sat up a bit to take it all in. She turned around, pushed on his chest until he sat back in his chair, and then rubbed her hands down his chest and abdomen.

Leaning in close, she whispered, "Mmm...real pecs. I love a man with real muscles."

She then eased one knee in on either side of him, straddling his lap. She worked one hand between the buttons of his shirt, again feeling for his pecs, and then placed the fingers of both her hands into the front of his pants, clutching at this belt. Mitch tensed in reaction, but he was quickly distracted as she straightened her arms, squeezing her breasts together between them. Her hands reached for back of his chair, and she leaned in, smothering his face between her breasts. She smelled incredible, and for a brief moment, Mitch was lost in another world. The only thing on his mind was the soft smooth flesh that was grinding into him. This feminine form was so different, and so far removed, from his dark and violent life.

"Damn, you're beautiful," he told her as she sat back again. She ground her ass into his groin, and placed his hands on her hips. "I thought I couldn't touch you in here?"

"Baby, you can touch me," she whispered, leaning into his ear again. "Can I stay here with you all night?"

"I don't think I could afford that."

"That's not what I meant...Take a look on either side of you," she whispered, still slowly gyrating her hips on top of him. Rapp hadn't noticed anything unusual about his neighbors initially. Just that neither was a threat. But taking another look, he saw a middle aged man in sweat pants, and thick glasses, who was at least fifty pounds overweight. On Rapp's other side was an Italian looking guy, in a cheap suit without a coat, and too much gold jewelry. He was talking fast and loud, hollering instructions at the girl dancing in front of him. She and the girl dancing for the fat guy both seemed bored to death, staring off into space, just going through the motions.

"You see what I mean. When I have the chance to spend time with a real man, who's hot, and actually nice to me... I want to stay with him. "

"I see your point. And I'm flattered," Mitch responded, still wary of the ploy. "But, I wouldn't want to keep you from making a lot more money tonight."

"I don't care if I don't make any money tonight. I just can't stand the thought of putting up with more guys like that."

Rapp didn't know what to tell her. He would love it if she danced for him all night. But he damn sure wasn't going to pay her twenty bucks a song. And that was just the price out front. The VIP rooms were another story.

She was still straddling him, and another song had started, but her hips were barely moving. She stared into his eyes. Rapp thought he saw tears in her eyes, and didn't know how to react.

"Wanna get out of here?" she whispered. Mitch was shocked, and his expression showed it. "That's not what I meant," she reassured him, "well not entirely."

Mitch thought of the implications of a high level CIA agent getting busted for paying a prostitute for sex. "I ...uh...I don't think."

"Relax," she cut him off. "I mean...let's just go get a cup of coffee or something."

"Uh...Okay...but...," he stopped again as she stood up, flashing her ass in his face, and quickly pulled her dress back on.

"It's Okay. Let's just go somewhere...Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the chair. "Pay your tab and meet me outside the back entrance in a couple minutes."

"Wait...I don't think..."

"What kind of car do you have?"

"A silver Audi."

"Nice. Ok, I'll see you in a few minutes." She kissed him on the cheek and quickly walked toward the dressing room.

Rapp threw a twenty dollar bill on the table, and paused. His mind raced. He looked around the room, and said to himself, "What the hell."

*****

Rapp pulled the car around to the back of the building, and shut off the lights. Within one minute, he saw her walk out from behind the privacy fence that shielded the doorway. She was wearing running shoes and matching sweats, and had her hair pulled into a ponytail through a ball cap. He took a deep breath, forced the air back out of his lungs, and flipped on his headlights. She looked up, and broke into a jog. Rapp instinctively started to reach for the lockbox and his pistol, but quickly talked himself out of it. Within seconds she was opening the passenger door, and bounced herself onto the front seat.

"Hi, I'm Katie," she said, pulling the door closed, and then extended her hand.

Rapp raised an eyebrow, but wasn't surprised by the name change. "With a cute name like Katie, why would you use Veronica?"

"I dunno. Veronica is sexier."

"Not to me," he answered, and turned his headlights back off.

"What's wrong?"

"Listen...Katie...I'm really flattered...and ...uh...I would love to take you...uh...anywhere," he squirmed in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. "But I don't want to get myself in trouble here."

"I'm not a hooker. And you don't have to believe me, but I swear...I've never left the club with a guy before." She buckled her seatbelt, as if the discussion was over.

"Okay, fine. But I don't want you telling me that, and then later some goons come after me looking to collect.

"That's not gonna happen," she looked into his eyes again. "There's just something about you...You didn't really want to be in that place either, did you?"

Rapp paused, thinking about it, thinking about the last few months of his life, "No." He flipped on the lights, slapped the gear shifter and sped to the exit of the parking lot.

"Besides...you look like a man who can handle himself," she joked.

He shot her a sly grin, "You have no idea." And then he squealed the tires as they accelerated onto the road.

*****

"Sorry about my clothes," Katie apologized, pulling at her sweatshirt. "But, I did leave my g-string on, in case you still want me to dance for you."

"I thought you wanted to get a cup of coffee?"

"Well...I mean...whatever you want to do. I just don't want to be back there."

Rapp already made his mind up, "I think I would like that dance."

"Okay. Where are you staying?" she asked, as Rapp downshifted.

"Riiigght...heeere." He swung the Audi into the hotel parking lot and quickly into a parking spot.

"Isn't that convenient?"

Rapp stepped out, came around to her side, opened the door and helped her out. Before closing the door behind her, he leaned in and discreetly removed the .45 from the lockbox, and secured it in his belt.

Rapp placed his pistol into his duffel, and closed the zipper. Katie noticed, but kept a calm look on her face. "You have any other surprises for me?" she asked.

"Nope...Especially since I really don't know what to do from here."

"I think I have a few ideas," she said as she entered the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

Mitch heard the water start running in the shower, and again raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He stepped to the bathroom door to listen more closely, and she yelled from inside, startling him.

"Why don't you get us some drinks. I'm gonna take a shower."

"Uh, Okay...What would you like?"

"Just a white wine."

Mitch called room service and ordered their drinks. Then he set about, pacing back and forth, across the room, wondering what the hell he was doing. He called room service again, and asked them to bring two rounds. He looked around the room, and realized he needed to tidy up a bit. Just as he finished stuffing a pile of his dirty clothes into a dresser drawer, Katie emerged from the bathroom. She wore only a bath towel, and droplets of water glistened off her legs and shoulders. Her hair was pulled tight in a ponytail. She threw her bag onto the bed, and began rummaging through it. She pulled out her platform heels, and tossed them to the floor.

"What color?"

"Sorry?"

"What color g-string? I have the blue one I was wearing before, and a bright pink one, and this one." She held up a tiny triangle of black connected to a small string of pearls.

"That one... definitely."

"I thought you might like that. I've never worn it at the club."

There was a knock at the door signaling the drinks had arrived. Katie stepped into the tiny garment, as Mitch turned his back and started for the door. He took the tray of drinks from the man, instead of letting him in, and signed the bill. As Mitch looked up from the bill, he noticed the man staring over his shoulder. Turning around, Mitch could see what he was looking at in the mirror on the closet door. He quickly shut the door, flipped the deadbolt, and stood with his back against the door. He stared in awe at the reflection of one long, perfectly toned leg braced against the dresser. He could only see from mid thigh down. Katie's hands worked at fastening the ankle strap on her six inch stiletto.

"Thank you, sir," she said, accepting her glass of wine. "Why don't you sit down right there."

Katie turned and flipped off a couple lights, leaving only the dim light from the hallway on. Mitch sat in the arm chair, as ordered, and gulped at his drink. Next, she bent over, pulled the scrunchy from her ponytail, shook her fingers through her hair, and then flipped it over her head as she straightened up. She then peeled off her towel and threw it onto the bathroom floor. She was ten feet away when she started towards him. Mitch watched a perfect silhouette against the dim light behind her. She took another sip of wine, and then set the glass on the dresser as she passed. He set his drink on the table, and sat up as she stopped in front of him.

"Hi," she paused, "Do you want some music on?"

"No."

She pushed him back into the chair, and began to gyrate her hips to her own rhythm. Katie turned around slowly, and then squatted down to wiggle her ass on his lap. She stood back up, and pulled slightly at the black string around her hips. A small string of pearls ran from the middle of the string, down between her round cheeks, where it disappeared between her legs.

"You like the g-string?"

"Oh yeah."

"Check this out."

Katie straightened her legs, and bent over at her waist. She grasped each of her feet by the arch, and pulled her head to her knees. Mitch stared at the string of pearls that cut her ass in half. It wrapped down the exposed valley between her cheeks, and did little to conceal her perfect little asshole. The end of the string, where it met the black fabric in front, was completed engulfed by the folds of her pussy.

"Oh, God damn," Mitch exhaled, once he remembered to breath. "I can see why you wouldn't wear that at work."

Katie didn't respond. She was fully into the moment. She sat back onto his lap, and grinded her ass into his lap again. Mitch clutched the arms of the chair with his hands. She stood up, turned around, and straddled him again, like she had earlier at the club.

"Now, you can definitely touch me."

Mitch set his hands on her hips.

"I want you to touch me," she insisted, grinding harder into his groin.

He slid a hand down, and cupped her ass.

"I neeeed you to touch me."

He grabbed her ass with both hands, and pulled her into him. His face was again smothered by her perfect breasts. This time though, his hand slid up her side and caressed one, while his mouth wandered to the other. He kissed and lightly licked all around the outside of her breast, but avoided her nipple. His hand worked back to grab her ass. And then he reached further behind, wrapping his hands around the tops of her hamstrings, his fingers teasingly close to her crotch. He squeezed her legs, finding the soft flesh between her thighs and her ass, and eliciting a moan.

"Oh, that's good..." she moaned at him.

Mitch felt the bulge starting in his pants as he continued to grope her ass, and she continued to moan. She was kneeling on the chair, and each time he squeezed the back of her legs, her hips pushed forward into his ribs. Her round tits pressed against his face, and he tried his best to lick every inch of them. Katie leaned back, pressing her crotch into his stomach, and placed her hands on his knees behind her. She rolled her stomach like a belly dancer, and Mitch stared as each hip bone lifted the g-string slightly away from her stomach. The black triangle barely covered her pussy mound, and lifted away from her flesh to meet the string on each side. Mitch knew she could feel his hardening cock pressing into her backside.