A Taste of Honey (The Crime and Passion Series)

By Gamal Hennessy

In the wrong hands, seduction is a deadly weapon 

Nikki Siriene will do anything for her lover Chris. She'll use her female charms to commit crimes for him. She'll deal with everything from the constant slut shaming of his mercenaries to the threat of sudden violence from his targets. But she wants a better life. When Chris brings her to Argentina to seduce a suspected arms dealer, Nikki hopes this will be the last job; the one that will keep them together. 

The secret seduction of a powerful man is easy for a woman with Nikki's skills. Dealing with his paranoid business partner and mysterious wife create complications and problems she couldn't anticipate. The jealousy and danger increase until one explosive secret could cost Nikki her lover, her sanity and her life. 

A Taste of Honey is the second novel in the Crime and Passion spy thriller series. It combines the tension and drama of the classic spy thriller novels with a healthy dose of erotica for women to enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gamal Hennessy
• Release date: Feb 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507085721

Book preview

Chapter 1: Under the Bridge

Nikki hated fucking men like Gregori Yvenko.

His hands were like sandpaper on her skin. His breath was rotten from cigarettes and garlic when he kissed her, and he was as clumsy as a drunken baboon in bed. He was the exact opposite of Chris. Whenever she had to suffer through an evening with Gregori, the memories of Chris on top of her kept her sane. She did this for him.

It was Chris’s hand she pretended to hold as she led Yvenko away from the throng of Russian drug dealers and weapons smugglers in the clubhouse. The Turnberry Isle Country Club was thick with Bratva tonight. Two families were being brought together by marriage, and the day would be full of drunken hugs and dancing that would probably last all weekend.

Chris knew the Russians would be in a festive mood tonight. His sources told him that this would be one of the biggest parties of the year. That’s why he sent Nikki to meet Gregori several weeks earlier at a nightclub on Ocean Drive. He needed her on Gregori’s arm and at the wedding for his plan to work.

The thug played his part too well. He was drunk before the bride made her entrance. He pawed Nikki every chance he could get. The thought of stabbing Gregori in the thigh with a salad fork danced in her head just as she got the text message from Simon. It was finally time to end this. It only took one suggestive look and a tug on his arm to get him to leave the party and take a stroll with her on the golf course. Gregori followed her without question to the footbridge near the sixth hole. He was just a big dumb bear. She was the honey.

She pressed her bare back against the cold brick wall and gasped as the stone made contact with her skin. She grabbed at the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in, using the outburst to help bring him closer. He stumbled and crushed his body against her in the most awkward way possible. Nikki stifled a cough and whispered desperate temptations into his hairy ear. She said she wanted him. He believed it. What a relief it would be to finally get rid of him.

She let his calloused hands fumble over the fabric of her dress as she gazed over his shoulder. Twenty feet behind her victim, a line of trees created thick shadows that obscured anything and anyone that might be hiding there. Nikki pictured men in camouflage waiting in that darkness. Now that Gregori was in position, it was time for them to appear.

The ashy stink of his breath nauseated her when his sloppy kisses forced their way into her mouth. She moaned at the appropriate intervals, careful never to give him a reason to suspect anything. She held his hands down on her breasts to keep his attention and give her team a clear shot at his back. Gregori pecked and bit and licked at her, but no one came out of the trees. She stole a quick glance over his shoulder, but there was no one there.

The jagged tips of his bitten nails scratched her shoulders when he forced her down into a squat. His zipper was already opened. Without hesitation she tugged at his belt, whispering guttural moans about her hunger for him. His response was uncoordinated and pathetic. For all his impatient fondling, he still wasn’t hard when she reached into his pants. So useless. Chris was always ready. He could take his time and excite her long before he took off his clothes. Where was Chris right now, and where was her backup? Why they were taking so long?

Nikki gagged when he forced himself between her lips, but not because of his size or ability. The stench of stale smoke was so embedded in his clothes and his skin that she thought she might pass out from smoke inhalation. That might be better. At least then she wouldn’t have to endure the brutal way he yanked at her hair or the impotent thrusting he pushed into her face. Nikki moaned and whimpered to dupe Gregori into believing he was a great lover, stealing glances into the darkness to catch a glimpse of her backup.

There was a welcome rush of fresh air when he pulled her up by her hair and pushed her back up against the wall. The light was fading, and she still couldn’t see anything beyond the trees. Did the team get compromised? The possibility was always there. After they sent the text message, something or someone might have intercepted them or forced them to retreat. She might be alone. Gregori could just be pretending to be drunk. Maybe he had lured her into a trap, instead of the other way around.

In her moment of confusion and distress, Gregori forced her legs opened. Wedging himself between her legs, he tugged her panties away just enough to get inside. He jabbed at her blindly, when Nikki realized that he didn’t have a condom! She tried to push him away, but his weight and his feral determination overwhelmed her. After half a dozen barbaric attempts, he found his way, and it took everything Chris taught her not to scream.

Nikki hissed false praise into his ear to maintain the facade because she didn’t know what else to do. If she was alone, she would have to find her own way out of the club without drawing the attention of half of Miami’s Russian underworld. If her team was exposed, then it might be too late for her to escape. What would they do to her if she got caught? If this was the way Gregori fucked, she could only wonder what the torture would be like. And this fuck was a completely different issue. Even if she did manage to escape this party, she might be walking away with all sorts of diseases. What would Chris think of her then? Would he still want her? Could he—

Gregori’s back began to spasm. That could only mean one thing, something that she could not let happen. The mission didn’t matter anymore. Seducing Gregori didn’t matter. Raising her heel and driving it into his knee, she pushed him down and out of her just as he began to dribble all over his pants. The thug stumbled back. His face was a mask of drunken rage and pain, but before he could say a word, it was over.

The first time Nikki saw someone get hit with a Taser, she thought the man died of a heart attack. First, there was the sharp crackle of electricity. His limbs stiffened. His eyes shot back into his head. He collapsed on the ground like a discarded puppet. She knew he wasn’t really dead, but she never got over her fear of the little black box. Nikki heard a sharp electric crackle as Gregori opened his mouth.

Before the thug could hit the ground, two sets of hands scooped up his limp body and carried him into the shadows. They moved with precision and speed. These men had performed this shock-and-snatch maneuver dozens of times before. Without a word or a glance back, the large shadow with the Taser slid back into the dark, leaving Nikki by the bridge alone.

She glanced around in the half-light for any clues they might be leaving behind. She didn’t see any discarded jewelry or footprints in the thick grass that could expose them, but Chris taught her to be sure. He said the Bratva probably wouldn’t even start looking for Gregori until tomorrow when their hangovers subsided. Even if they tried to link his disappearance to her, there wouldn’t be any address, phone number, or car that they could use to track her. By the time they got around to looking at the security tapes from the country club, they would be long gone.

Nikki stepped into the shadows to follow her team, concerned about the delay in the operation but thankful that she wouldn’t have to deal with the smell of stale smoke anymore.

Chapter 2: Not First, Last, or Best

The extraction vehicle looked to Nikki like a cross between an ambulance and a space shuttle. Nikki guessed it was one of those environmentally friendly hybrid trucks that delivery companies used to project the image of being environmentally conscious. Nikki and her men used it to project the illusion of bringing packages into the country club, not taking prisoners out.

She hiked up the long flowing seam of her cocktail dress and climbed into the rear of the van just before it pulled away from the tree line. Moving at a speed slow enough to bore any observer, it ambled back to the gravel lot behind the administrative building where it was supposed to be parked. From there, it would slide out the front gate, down Aventura Boulevard, and blend into the evening traffic on Biscayne Boulevard headed south toward Miami Beach.

Tom sat in the driver’s seat, looking every bit the DHL delivery man in his bright short-sleeve shirt, matching shorts, and tanned limbs. The aviator sunglasses hid his eyes from potential witnesses, and his young surfer’s features wouldn’t get a second glance from the security guards at the gate or the Bratva parked just outside the country club gates. If any of them thought to look past Tom and into the rear of the truck, they would have had a much different impression of his visit.

The rear of the van was cramped, stifling, and filled with aggressive energy. Peter and Paul, the two men who carried Gregori from the bridge, were hovering over him now like shadows trying to steal his soul. Wrapped head to toe in black urban camouflage, they bound the Russian’s wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles in duct tape and plastic cuffs. His head was already covered in a menacing black hood. Nikki couldn’t see it, but she knew his mouth was already taped shut too. They would have made sure of that. The image reminded her of the pigs her uncles used to truss up at the barbeques on her grandma’s estate back home.

Simon wasn’t moving, but he didn’t need to move to inspire flight in her. He had an imposing size, the physique of a bodybuilder who spent too much time in the gym and the face of a boxer who’d been knocked out one too many times. Nikki always saw his lip locked in a sneer. He wore that mask now as he watched the other men work. He pulled his balaclava off as the van bounced onto Biscayne, barking to the other men like players in a locker room after a game.

I can’t believe you guys have never been to Fairmount. I always try to hit that place up when I pass through there.

Their rugged shadows loomed over her like conversing adults ignoring a child. Fighting the impulse to hide in a corner, she leaned in close to get Simon’s attention. Did you guys run into interference back there? I sat on the bull’s-eye for a while.

Simon shot her a sideways glance but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her. Have you ever even heard of it? It’s awesome. Best scene on the East Coast.

I’ve never been there. Peter (or maybe it was Paul—it was impossible for Nikki to tell them apart while their heads were covered by the masks) quipped as they stuffed Gregori’s hog-tied body into a hidden compartment under the bench on the far side of the van.

Paul (or Peter) plopped down on top of the bench and started riffling through Gregori’s wallet. I don’t get out that way much.

The van hit a pot hole, and Nikki struggled to keep her balance as she spoke up again. Was there some technical issue? Did I miss my window? I thought I was right on time.

Simon laughed and gave the other two men a lecherous look. You boys need to stick with me. I’ll show you where the action is. I went there this one time and—

Hey! Nikki slammed her hand down on her bench, but she could hardly hear herself over the noise of the van and the traffic outside. Her attempt at a violent outburst came out as a cracked squeak, but she pressed on before they could mock her pathetic display of anger. Why the fuck did you leave me out there so long with the target? I had his back turned for a good five minutes. What were you doing out there?

Simon took his time turning to face Nikki. When his sneer reached her, she wanted to crawl into the box with Gregori. His eyes were full of disdain. His snorted response was dismissive. Relax, honey. We just wanted to give Yvenko a last meal. He won’t be getting any more of that where he’s going.

Peter and Paul chuckled without making a sound, but Nikki was much more vocal. You’re supposed to be my backup, not my pimp. You are supposed to be concerned about me, not how much pussy Gregori does or doesn’t—!

Simon turned on her with a speed and a ferocity that froze her in mid motion. His voice bellowed through the van and stopped the snickering. My concern is the op! The op was picking up Yvenko! You’re just the bait we used to lure him out; nothing more. You are disposable, like a diaper or a used fucking condom. He sneered at her again, daring her to match his vulgarity.

Her heart pounded as if it would burst out of her chest. Her mouth felt like Simon poured a pound of sand into it. The tears were coming faster than she could blink them back, so she called on the one person who gave her strength. Chris doesn’t think I’m disposable. He sent us out as a team to work together.

Simon turned away from her, waving his hand as if she were a mosquito. Wake up, honey. Just because he’s fucking you doesn’t make you special. It just means he’s found time in his schedule for you. That’s all.

You’re such a fucking liar! The words exploded out of her mouth before she could catch them. Nikki cursed her stupidity as the words bounced off the thin walls of the van. A show of weakness like that was fatal in front of a man like Simon. Whimpering like a jilted teenager was the worst thing she could do.

Simon laughed at her distress, digging in deeper as he leaned in toward her. Think about it. Do you really believe that you are the first, last, or best agent he’s ever fucked? Don’t you know by now that recruiting an asset with sex is one of the oldest games out there? Isn’t that what you do? Isn’t that all you do?

Nikki felt the places on her body where Gregori’s coarse hands had fondled her. These men had watched her from the tree line. While she was on her knees with a Russian dick in her mouth, they were laughing at her. She didn’t try to hold back the tears as Simon’s voice continued to cut into her.

I tried to help you out back there. You need to know your place. You need to remember how replaceable you are and how special you are not. I think some extra time with Yvenko was just what you needed.

The silence that followed crushed Nikki Sirene. It gave Simon’s words plenty of time to sink in. It gave the other men plenty of time to pretend she wasn’t there. In the field, Simon was the big dog. None of the others had the balls to stand up to him. Even if they were willing to challenge Simon, they didn’t care enough about her to even bother. Nikki was alone in that van—just as vulnerable among those cold men as Gregori was tethered and crammed underneath a seat cushion. She turned away from them in a futile attempt to escape from the dark confines of the van. Simon took an extra moment to gloat over her before he went back to his story.

So, one time I was at the park really late, and these two guys come up to me...

Interlude One: A Bigger Fish

Christopher Carpenter sat at a table on the roof of the Clevelander Hotel, waiting for Warren Baker to call. Two elegant place settings adorned the soft white tablecloth in front of him, but his guest hadn’t arrived yet. Chris planned it that way. The call had to begin and end before dinner started. He needed to maintain separation between his asset and his client. Control of both