Washington D.C., United States

Jefferson Burke, one of the senior administrative operatives working for America’s top-secret espionage agency, Omega Force, sat in an overstuffed easy chair in a luxury hotel in Washington D.C., and wondered what Svetlana Simonov would be wearing. Sometimes she was strictly professional, wearing the clothes of a thousand dollar-an-hour attorney working for a firm that did a lot of business with the U.S. government, and no one else. At other times she dressed like a not-yet-thirty socialite who liked to show off the fact that she had beautiful breasts and legs, and that she knew both men and women liked to see them. Sometimes her skirts modesty came down to the tops of her knees. Sometimes her miniskirts and mini dresses barely came to the tops of her thighs. The pretty panties that she wore would most definitely be seen by anyone interested in finding out about such things. Burke had no doubt that many people were interested.

Burke would find out about her lingerie soon. He always did.

Looking at his wristwatch, Burke saw that it was two minutes to three. He had said he wanted to see her at three, and since he demanded punctuality from Svetlana, she was always on time. Not just to the minute, but to the second. If she was the tiniest bit late, he punished her for the transgression. Administering punishment to Svetlana was one of the great turn-ons of Burke’s life.

Burke punished his field agent often, and he always tried to think of a new way of delivering his wrath. He didn’t want to fall into the trap of expected outcomes. Svetlana deserved so much more than that.

There was a faint rap of knuckles on the door of his hotel room. Before rising from his chair, he looked at his wristwatch. It was precisely three o’clock. She was exactly on time, so he’d have to figure out another reason to punish her. This wouldn’t be a problem. There were countless reasons. His only question was picking the right one.

He rose from his chair and crossed the room. He opened the door without first asking who was there or looking through the small spyglass. It could only be one person, and that person happened to be the most beautiful, talented, sensual woman he had ever encountered in his life. She was also a shockingly effective field agent for Omega Force.

He opened the door and, as always, the first sight of Svetlana Simonov caused the breath to catch in his chest and his heartrate to accelerate. The urge to take her immediately into his arms and kiss her was so strong it required an act of willpower for him to restrain himself. Rather than act on impulse, he let his gaze slide slowly from the top of her head down to the toes of her high-heeled stilettos.

Barefoot, she stood five-foot-nine. In the red-soled stilettos, she was six-foot-two, and every inch of her was impressive.

Her hair was streaked honey blonde and fell down in waves well over her shoulders. She had a fine forehead, and beneath it, a medium nose that was neither large nor small. It was her eyes, though, that one noticed instantly and remembered forever. They were the color of blue water, but whether it was icy cold Anchorage water or bath-water warm Key West water was debatable. What wasn’t up for debate was whether or not her eyes were stunningly beautiful. They were, and everyone—both men and women—agreed on this indisputable fact. With one’s gaze moving southward, there were shoulders which were proportionate to her body, and then her breasts, which were full and round and rather more extravagant than most women’s bosom. She made no effort to draw attention to them; they did that all by themselves. Her waist narrowed dramatically, and her hips rounded nicely. The thighs suggested at a certain athleticism and were tapered. The calves led to feet which were inevitably caressed by the finest and most famous—and expensive—cobblers in the world.

She was, from toes to hairline and beyond, an immediate cause of favorable sexual response for Jefferson Burke, and for everyone else who had the significant good fortune of looking at her.

For this meeting she had chosen to wear a navy-blue blazer with matching knee-length skirt, a white silk blouse, and rather ostentatious three carat blue-white diamond stud earrings. In contrast, her makeup was subdued, her eye shadow hazy shades of dark and light blue, and administered with the lightest touch.

“Thank you for coming, Agent Simonov,” Burke said, his tone crisp and thoroughly military and professional. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, sir,” Svetlana replied as she walked past him and into the room.

With nowhere else to sit, she sat on the foot of the bed, which was directly in front of the chair and desk that Burke had been at only moments earlier.

Perfect. Burke drank in the visual beauty of Svetlana sitting on the bed. Exactly as I had planned.

His cock was beginning to grow into a formidable, impressively sized erection. It wouldn’t bother him in the least if Svetlana noticed the effect her presence and beauty had on him.  He walked slowly back to his chair, then sat in it. By the time he crossed his legs, putting his right ankle on his left knee, his cock had reached full extension, and was threatening to burst out of the confines of his immaculately tailored trousers.

He was pleased to see that Svetlana noticed.

She folded her hands in her lap while sitting at the foot of the bed, and questioned rather quietly, “Sir?”

The tone of her voice, in the single, spoken word, made Burke desperately want to ravish her instantly. The blood flowed in his veins like lava.