Jake sat gingerly at the bar. "Whiskey sour, make it a double," he said to the bartender. He eased his aching muscles into a semblance of rest, wishing that that ex-KGB operative had been a little more cooperative. While footraces through the alleys of Greece and hand-to-hand combat on a rooftop look fantastic in the movies, they never felt quite as good when they were over.
He spotted the flash of red hair in the mirror. Irena came and sat next to him. "Is it done?" she asked nervously, her Romanian accent thick but sweet.
"It will be," he answered gruffly, his pain and fatigue putting a snap into his voice. Seeing the girl struggle to control the emotions on her face, he softened. "I got the contact, and convinced him to give up his comrades. We've got men going in right now. You should have your brother back by morning." He was surprised when she threw her arms around him, pressing her ample bosom against his chest and kissing his cheek. He groaned as he felt the muscles in his back protest.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, jumping back. "You are injured! You did not tell me. You should be in hospital, not in bar," she finished, mixing accusation with concern.
Jake waved her off. "I'm fine, really. Just ran into the floor a few times. Two whiskeys, two aspirin, and a good night's sleep, and I'll be right as rain."
"No!" she declared. "I am nurse, you know. I know injured. If not hospital, at least let me give you hot bath and massage. You cannot get stiff, it will be bad."
Jake looked up into those rich brown eyes, and thought of a massage. Then he looked down to where her breasts were touching his arm again. He was actually pretty sure he could get stiff, and that it would not be bad at all.
Jake turned off the shower, breathing in the last of the steam. Between the water and the whiskey, he was definitely relaxing. He threw open the shower curtain, and was surprised to see Irena standing there. She handed him a towel from the heated rack, and then filled the coffee pot from the sink. Jake wasn't sure whether to be insulted or relieved that she hadn't reacted to his nakedness.
"Er," he said, "Isn't caffeine usually a bad idea before a massage?"
"Hmm?" she replied, turning towards him. This time, Jake noticed that her gaze started at his legs and traveled quickly up to his face. "The water?" she continued, "It is not for coffee. Is for warming the oils." She poured the water into the reservoir of the coffee maker, and then dropped several small colorful plastic bottles into the pot.
Jake trusted that she knew what she was doing. He'd learned to let experts be experts. He finished toweling off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and headed out to the main room. He flipped the TV on to hotel information, just to let the music run in the background.
Irena came out with the other towels from the bathroom. She began spreading them on the bed, to protect the spread from the oils. She looked over at Jake, with a quirk to her lips. "I am afraid these are not enough for your body. I need that one, too," she said, pointing at the one around his waist.
Jake blinked once, and then decided to throw caution to the wind. He whipped off the towel, and tossed it casually to the girl. She caught it, and then looked openly at him. Jake wasn't exactly a male model, but a life of riding the edge of action had left him with a nice hard frame, crisscrossed with a couple dozen scars. The only real flaw was a pair of purpling bruises on his ribcage, where the agent's kicks had found a hole in his defenses.
The sight of the bruises seemed to bring out the nurse in Irena again. She clucked and started looking more closely at them. After satisfying herself that nothing was broken, she guided Jake to the bed. He laid face-down, resting his head on the pillows. She retrieved the first bottle of oil, and began at his feet.
Jake lost track of time. Irena's hands were wonderful. And this wasn't the kind of weak rubbing he usually received from girls. Her strong fingers dug into his muscles, undoing the knots from the day's work. His body relaxed, and his mind floated free. He was also very aware when Irena moved up onto the bed, straddling his hips in order to rub his back.
Then, Irena had him turn face up. Jake knew that his arousal was impossible to miss, but the girl seemed to ignore it. She began at his feet again, working her way up his legs. Before getting to his hips, she shifted and began on his arms. Jake, his eyes closed through all of this, felt the bed shift as she climbed onto it. He felt her straddle his upper thighs again. And, most significantly, he felt that this time her legs were bare.
Smiling, he opened his eyes as she leaned forward to begin rubbing his chest. Her luscious red hair flopped forward, obscuring her face. But, he could see through it to her cleavage, now held only by a pretty green satin bra. Matching panties hugged her hips, mere tantalizing inches from his own. He wasn't entirely sure when she had shed her sweater and slacks, but he had long ago learned to not question the magic of the fairer sex.
Much more alert now, he actively enjoyed the feel of her hands on his chest, slipping around in the warm oil. He moved his hand to brush aside her hair, but she clucked her tongue at him. "Just lie back for now," she murmured. "Is not your turn to move yet." Never one to deny a lady, he leaned back.
Irena leaned back to retrieve the last bottle of oil, deliberately arching her back to thrust out her large breasts. Jake had to restrain himself from reaching for them. As though sensing his thoughts, the redhead looked back at him. She scooted farther down the bed, until she was straddling his knees, smiling at him.
She leaned forward again, spreading the oil she'd put on her palms across his upper thighs. Her hands traveled across his lower abdomen, tracing the muscles there. Only the very tips of her fingers trailed through his pubic hair. Fingernails tickled his balls, making his cock jump. One oil-slick palm slid up his shaft. Fingers curled around, taking him in a firm grip. Her wrist began flexing back and forth, jacking him with slow strong strokes.
Jake hissed in his breath, the heat of the oil adding a unique dimension to the sensations. He once again shifted, reaching for Irena. Once again, she pushed him back down. Wrapping her fingers back around his cock, she leaned in. Her mountain of flame-colored tresses cascaded forward, concealing her actions. But, Jake did not need to see. He felt her hot breath turn the oil into a sheath of fire. Then her tongue swiped across the head of his penis, causing his hips to jerk up to meet it.
Chuckling low in her throat, she slid her lips over the crown, sucking just enough for him to feel it. Her tongue continued to swirl back and forth, and her hand kept up the rhythm on his shaft. She popped her lips off him, only to run her tongue from his balls all the way to the tip. Jake cried out as she did it again. Then her lips sealed over his cock again, and she began bobbing up and down.
As Irena felt Jake's orgasm begin to build, she switched tactics again. She released his member from the luscious warmth of her mouth, and moved her hand back up to caress him. The heat of the oil came back, drawing a grunt out of him. She began nipping at his flesh with her teeth, moving from cock to thighs to balls. Jake swept the curtain of hair back from her face, and this time she did not resist. Indeed, she turned her head to look straight into his eyes. She slowly extended her tongue, resting the tip of it on the sensitive spot just below the crown. She held his gaze as she worked her tongue into it, rolling and twisting the tip. He groaned with pleasure.