Vito De Mare, Italy 2017
The trail to Maria Gomez led them across the ocean. The trip was surprisingly easy and made on a private jet. The Italian province of Vito De Mare was little more than a tiny island floating off the tip of the boot of the country. It was a haven for the wealthy, the bored, and the overtly depraved.
What Vito De Mare was primarily known for was its night life. Swingers frequented the island, sharing in their sexual delights with others of the bored and idle nature. Sex games were the theme of things in most fronts, offering moonlight masquerades and anonymous delights to those who sought to fill their souls with such sins of the flesh.
The blending in was going to require a fair amount of footwork and...handiwork. Leon slipped on the expensive Dolce and Gabbana suit in commanding black, double breasted, silk, with peak lapels and a vest beneath, that accompanied his costume with little concern for it. The intricate venetian metal mask he slid onto his face made the whole look, which might have been Vogue and very high fashion, a sensual edge that promised the viewer a different kind of delight beneath the expensive packaging.
He was lean, handsome, charismatic and charming - he'd blend right in. Beneath the suit, he wore an inner pants holster that placed his pistol at the small of his back. Charming or not, he was never unarmed.
Joel, Rebecca, and their two newest accompaniments: Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield, all were gathered in the living room of the three thousand dollar a night suite being used as HQ for this operation. Jill was dressed in black as well. The dress was so low cut that it left little to the imagination...and everything to it. It was a dress the promised something dark and delicious to any who wanted to try to touch and see if they got lucky, or lost a hand trying. Her blonde hair was artfully styled in piles of twists and curls around her face. She wore a little mask herself, this one lacy and red, hiding but not really hiding, the delicate features of her face.
Chris chuckled when he saw them stand next to each other. "You two look like the top of a Fifty Shades of Grey wedding cake."
Jill snickered, "You're just jealous because you have to wait here while we get to go play."
"Maybe." Chris snorted again, "Probably. But I'm shit in the playacting department. I'd ruin it."
Leon rolled his eyes as they moved over to get outfitted with communicators. Joel tucked a tiny piece in Leon's ear and put the battery pack, the shape of a cigarette lighter, into his breast pocket. He clipped a little camera in the form of a diamond tie tack to the front knot of his silky white tie.
He literally stuck his hand in the front of Jill's dress.
She raised her brows, shocked. But Chris snickered. Joel cared as much about boobs as the Pope did about sex. He fitted the device to her and added the one in her ear. "There! Voila!"
Leon shifted, glancing out into the narrow cobbled streets. The masquerade took place over the entire city. There was no "one spot". "How's the range?"
"Twenty miles give or take." Joel moved to his computer and started typing. "Wherever you go, we can hear you."
"Got it."
The bathroom door opened and Rebecca stepped out, drying her hands on a towel. She paused, blinked, blinked, and stared. Jill smiled sweetly, "I look that good?"
Rebecca laughed, grinning, "You do indeed. I'm jealous."
Jill winked at her as she passed. "Rebecca, you endless flirt, I already like you. You don't have to butter me up."
Rebecca shifted as Jill and Chris headed out into the hallway. She watched the man who moved toward her. She wondered if she would ever get tired of watching him move. The outfit...it made the man. That was for damn sure.
"This look suits you."
"Oh yeah?" He smiled down at her. She ran her hand over his lapel.
"Oh yeah it does. Try not to do too much playing around out there."
He looped his arm around her to drag her against him. Her nose bumped the cold metal mask as he ducked his head. "Jealous?"
She met his looked squarely, "You're fucking right I am. I'd be an idiot not to be."
Leon laughed, delighted, and kissed her. Her cheeks were pink from rushing blood when he pulled back. "Don't be. I'm acting out there. And then I'm coming back here to you."
Rebecca traced his mouth with her fingers. "Sounds good to me."
He nipped her fingers, sending bolts of want right into her groin. "When I get back, you'll be the one coming."
"Oh dear god, promise?"
"Promise." He dropped a kiss to her shoulder and let her go. She shivered, deliciously.
Out on the street, the masquerade swirled up and surrounded them. She watched him until he disappeared into the crowd. Chris stepped up next to her, grinning.
"What do you say, Chambers?"
She looked up at his grinning face, "Can I keep him?"
Chris laughed.
He danced, he schmoozed. He kept a drink in his hand like any good James Bond. He flirted and tempted and danced the edge of playing the game too well. He listened, he learned, he stored information and filed it away in the right places. He kissed a few necks and played a few games when the mood called for it, getting a little more information with a little more teasing.
A tall figure in red came out of the smoke of the crowd and not even the mask couldn't hide who it was. He watched her move, cat like and wicked. She took his hand, wordlessly, and guided him toward a building.
He said nothing even as she tugged him inside. The internal part of the building was beautiful. Everything was hand carved and brilliantly maintained. It was marble and white and shiny, it was elegant even as it was clearly lavishly designed. They were looking down from a balcony into an inner sanctum, that much was clear. Inside the circle, on a mural of angels and demons in the throws sexual release, an orgy had begun.
Bodies and limbs, hands and lips, the sounds of want and wanton greed filled the air. Sweaty and succulent flesh melded and slipped together, offering the viewer a beautiful and decadent buffet of sexual delight. It was hard to tell where one body ended and another began.
She slipped up beside him and her hand slid open the zipper of his pants. He opened his mouth to protest and realized they were being watched, eyes, eyes, eyes everywhere. Her finger brushed against his lips, silencing him. She had him, just like that, in her game with him. Those red, red, red nails slipped into the open cavity of his pants and found him, stroking.
He curled his hands around the railing, staring hard at the bounty of sexual feasting that was occurring below them. He was spitted, trapped, held in place by his own lack of escape. He couldn't pull away, couldn't make a scene. He was, after all, here to play the game. The game. The game was this, sex and want and forbidden pleasure.
