Author's note: I'm a longtime reader of Literotica, but this is my first submission. It's based on an elaborate fantasy I have about the actor Chris Pratt, particularly his character in Jurassic World. I suggest you imagine him in the lead role. Enjoy!
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"And you're telling me this now?" Marshall Hughes barked into the phone. "When did you get this information?" He paused for a moment, then replied, "Fine, we'll get her into a safe house right away."
He motioned to Donna. "We just got some new information. We think Dragos may have found out you're the witness, which means you're in danger. We need to get you to a safe house immediately. You have five minutes to pack a bag."
She stared at him, a feeling of anxiety and dread washing over her. "Five minutes?" she asked in surprise.
"Patterson will help you. I have another call to make." He went to the balcony and started his call.
She looked at Patterson. "Do I seriously have only five minutes?" she asked in despair.
Marshall Chris Patterson looked at her and smiled gently. "Hughes is just in a bad mood and doesn't want you to take an hour. You have at least fifteen minutes before he starts complaining," he said with a smile.
"I'll help. Just hand me your things and I'll pack them. This suitcase ok?" he asked, pointing to a navy carry-on.
"Yes, thank you," she said gratefully. He put the bag on the bed and she handed him t-shirts, jeans, and toiletries. He packed quickly and efficiently. She handed him socks and panties, realizing too late that a hot pink thong was on top. He glanced at the items, looked embarrassed for a moment, then packed them quickly.
Despite herself, she found herself wondering what he thought of her underwear. As soon as she'd met him, she was drawn to him, with his short, wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, and muscular physique. He was tall, well over 6 feet. She had always liked tall guys. If she had to go to a safe house, at least he'd be there.
Chris continued packing, and tried to put the hot pink thong out of his mind. He found himself imagining her wearing the thong, the pink triangle emphasizing her curvy ass. She was average height, with medium, firm breasts and a very shapely rear. She was slim and toned, with the kind of body he was most drawn to. She had pale skin, dark eyes, an adorable nose, and long, wavy hair that was dyed pink and purple. She looked exotic and was probably of Middle Eastern decent. He hoped he wasn't staring: she was beautiful.
He noticed her embarrassment when she realized she had handed him such intimate items. Then, her embarrassment was replaced with something else, something like defiance. She seemed to be saying, "Yes, I wear sexy underwear. Get used to it." He was drawn to her bold confidence. Damn, she was hot!
He had seen more than just the pink thong. As he was packing, he'd noticed that there were purple satin panties and an assortment of other brightly-colored items. Did she really wear these on a regular basis? His last girlfriend had assured him that most women wore boring cotton underwear unless they were on a date. She told him that most women did not wear underwear from a Victoria's Secret catalog, and she had no intention of indulging his "demeaning male fantasy."
Donna was intriguing, and not just because of her appearance. She was smart: he'd heard someone mention she had a PhD in computer science. Plus, she'd founded her own company.
When he'd first met her a week prior, he was taken by both her appearance and her personality. She grilled both Chris and Hughes on every aspect of security. Her questions were direct and intelligent. Hughes was frustrated, but Chris was impressed. At one point, they brought in the ADA to answer her exacting questions. Only when she fully understood something would she accept it and move on. She was intense, and Chris found her personality exhilarating. He wondered how he would fare under her scrutiny. He wanted to find out.
He realized he was lost in thought and looked at the suitcase. "Is that everything?"
"Yes, thank you," Donna replied with a small, grateful smile.
He looked at his watch. "Not bad, just ten minutes. That's the power of teamwork." He smiled at her, and she nearly melted. He had the most adorable, irreverent grin. It lit up his whole face and made her smile again, despite the situation.
Hughes came back to the living room. "All done?" he asked, directing his question at Chris. "Yes sir," Chris replied, zipping up the suitcase. Hughes seemed to be in a slightly better mood. To Donna's disappointment, she noticed that Chris's demeanor became more formal as soon as Hughes was back.
"Let's get her to the house and make sure it's secured. Then, you'll have the first shift," Hughes said. "I probably can't relieve you over the weekend. Mary says we have to go to a goddamn couple's retreat, and Stevens is busy with his case. Jones will do your food runs, but other than that, you're on your own."
"No problem," Chris replied. "I'll be fine."
Chris put Donna's suitcase into his black SUV. Fastening her seatbelt, she asked, "Hughes is having marriage problems?"
"Yup," Chris replied. "That's why he's in such a bad mood. Ordinarily he's not the most cheerful guy. These days he's intolerable. I just try to stay out of his way."
They drove on for about 30 minutes. Donna tried to make conversation, but Chris seemed uninterested in talking. They settled into silence.
Once they arrived, Chris and Hughes talked logistics while Donna unpacked. The house was a typical suburban one, spacious but ordinary.
Chris came back in, without Hughes. She noticed he was more formal than when they were at her apartment. He asked her what she wanted for dinner, then retreated into another room.
Donna sat on her bed. The events of the last 24 hours still didn't seem real. The nightmare had begun several months earlier, when she and her coworker Dan had looked into some odd activity on one customer set of accounts. They had founded a startup for managing personal finances, similar to Mint. Ordinarily, they would never examine customer data, but they found unusual activity with one account. It had login IP addresses from all over the world, all within a few hours of each other.
What they discovered was a network of over 300 connected accounts and evidence of money laundering. Dan insisted they go to the FBI. Donna argued with him and lost, pointing out that they had no legal responsibility to report money laundering, unlike all the banks that actually held the funds. Finally, he appealed to her conscience, pointing out that the people in question may have been involved with trafficking or weapons sales.
It turned out to be the notorious Dragos cartel, who traded in weapons and drugs. She didn't regret going to the authorities, but she wished it hadn't turned her life upside down. The data provided to her service and the login activity was the smoking gun. Aside from handing over the data, she had to testify about how her software worked. As the lead programmer, she was on the hook to bring Dragos to justice.
Her only hope was that the prosecutor would manage to convince Dragos to take a plea bargain. Right now, he only knew they had financial evidence. He wasn't supposed to know she was the witness.
Dinner was a silent affair, just like the car ride. Chris barely spoke to Donna, despite her attempts to make light conversation. It seemed that now that he had fulfilled his duty in bringing her to the safe house, his distant demeanor had returned.
She didn't suspect the real reason for Chris's behavior: he couldn't control his attraction for her. He could barely stand being in the house. He fantasized about her full, beautiful lips. He imagined kissing her. He pictured her lovely lips around his hard cock.
Since they'd met, he'd dreamt about her nearly every night. Once, in the shower, she entered his thoughts while he was masturbating. He came, thinking about riding her doggie style, grabbing her beautiful, round ass. Afterwards, he felt as though he had somehow violated her, and felt even more haunted by his feelings for her.
The days went by slowly. Donna was not permitted to talk to friends or family or use any social media. As an engineer, she felt the restrictions were designed by someone who didn't understand how the Internet worked, but Chris was not interested in the debate. He responded to her impassioned arguments with short, curt replies.
On the third day, Donna stopped trying to talk to him entirely. She felt even more lonely than usual, and wondered if it was possible to go crazy in just three days.
Chris was concerned. Donna seemed to be retreating into herself. When he had first met her, she was strong and confident. She was rattled by the situation, to be sure, but she'd decided that she would handle it head-on. Now, she was quiet and vulnerable. She seemed distant and very sad. He realized the situation was taking its toll. He wished he could bring back the strong, confident woman he'd met just a few days earlier.
She was pretending she was fine, but Chris knew better. "Is everything ok?" he asked, walking over to the couch.
"I'm fine," she replied tersely. She wasn't interested in sharing her feelings with a man who had practically ignored her for three days.
"You don't seem fine," he replied lightly, sitting next to her. She ignored him.
"You seem upset. You're hardly eating," he said, pointing to her dinner at the table. She had barely touched it.
She looked at him and wanted to punch him. She couldn't stand people who pretended to care. She was going to maintain her tough exterior if it killed her.
"I'm just trying to help," he continued, touching her arm lightly.
"I'm fine!" she said, then burst into tears. His apparent sympathy, combined with her feelings of loneliness and despair, were too much to handle. She sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
"I'm sorry," he said gently, and touched her shoulder awkwardly. He was at a loss for what to do.
"It's just a lot to handle," she said between sobs. "Everything is horrible, I can't talk to anyone, and you've barely said two words to me since we got here. There's only so much I can take."
His heart immediately sank. It seemed that his plan to maintain his distance had backfired. He should have been more supportive. She was an ordinary person, not someone who had ever associated with criminals. Her life had not prepared her for this.
And he could have helped. Instead, he thought it would be easier if they weren't too friendly. He had tried not to be attracted to her, but had failed miserably. His fantasies were becoming more frequent and more intense. Keeping his distance had seemed the safest option.
"Hey, I'm sorry," he said gently, putting his arm around her. "I just wanted to keep things professional. Things can get awkward in close quarters. I've had some bad experiences on that front."
She looked at him in exasperation. "I'm not asking you to be 'unprofessional.' I just wanted a friend. Is that against the rules?" she asked bitterly.
"Of course not," he said ruefully. "But sometimes people can mistake friendship for something else."
"Really?" she asked. "That seems like a stretch," she added, not looking at him.
