Disclaimer: Characters from The Professionals are © Mark-1 Productions Ltd
and are used without permission but with no intent to defraud.


A sort of PWP Doyle-fantasy...
Warning - this story is unsuitable for under-18's

Ships in the Night

It had been another long day with the client, and I locked the car and wandered towards the hotel. It was late, and I usually headed straight for my room to relax, but this evening I needed a drink.

Heading for the bar I was pleased to see it was empty. The hotel was on the outskirts of Bristol and didn't get many non-residential drinkers, but last week when I'd attempted to have a quiet drink there had been a group of reps staying, and I'd had to retreat swiftly.

The barman placed the vodka on the counter with the bottle of tonic, and I added just a splash. I had no intention of getting drunk, but if I felt the need for a drink it may as well be a strong one. I took my glass over to a table and picked up the bar snack card from the table. I'd missed lunch again that day, and knew from previous experience that the restaurant had already finished serving.

Decision made, I approached the bar again, and ordered a chicken salad baguette. "Make that two," came a gentle voice from just behind me, and I half-turned, preparing to rebuff the inevitable pick-up line.

Instead, I paused, taken by surprise. The man who had crept up on me wasn't the usual 'bar-shark'; they tended to be suited, smooth and polished. He was incredibly good-looking, with dark curls tinted in auburn, and deep green eyes, a lopsided half-smile on his lips. The looks were only enhanced by his appearance; scruffy was really the only word to apply, but it didn't matter.

I wasn't about to reject anyone who looked like that. I smiled at the barman. "Yes, make that two. And another vodka for me, and - "

"A whisky," the stranger supplied, in response to my glance.

We took our drinks back to my table, and I relaxed into my chair, noticing with some concern that my companion sat carefully without leaning back. Inherent manners prevented my asking why. Instead, I introduced myself. "I'm Lesley."

He gave me another one of those gentle smiles. "Ray."

Well, he'd given every appearance of wanting to join me, but I hadn't expected to make all the running in the conversation. "Are you stopping at the hotel?"

"Just for the night."

It struck me that he hadn't been looking for conversation, just that he hadn't wanted to be alone. I fell silent, not sure whether to be annoyed that he'd only latched onto me because there was no one else around, or flattered that I'd obviously looked approachable. I began studying him surreptitiously; taking in the extremely battered jeans, black denim jacket and rumpled cream cotton shirt underneath.

He suddenly exerted himself and cut into my thoughts. "What about you? Staying long?"

"This week, and next. I'm working nearby."

"Yeah, I've been working too. Should've been going back to London tonight." Ray ran a hand over his face, half-smothering the yawn. "Sorry, it's not you..."

I realised that under the entrancing exterior he was exhausted. I was intrigued, wanting to know more about him, but trying not to pry I made the question casual. "Hard day?"

A rueful grin came my way this time. "You could say that. And to end it all, Bodie - that's my partner - lands himself in hospital with suspected concussion... So we're stuck here overnight."

This was even more mysterious. What sort of job did he do, that it exhausted him so much, and his partner got concussion? From his clothes, I had guessed at maybe the construction industry, but that didn't explain things. Well, I could ask... "What do you do?"

"I'm a civil servant."

I laughed. Not only because that seemed so unlikely, but because of the old joke - 'How many people work at the civil service? About half of them' - which had always made me giggle.

He grinned. "S'true!"

I debated sharing the joke; Ray seemed to have a sense of humour. But the snacks arrived and the moment was lost.

Ray was obviously starving; he polished off the whole of his baguette in the time it took me to eat half, and was looking longingly at my plate. "Oh, go ahead," I told him, grinning, "bag'uette it..."

I was right, he did have a sense of humour, and he grinned responsively as he tucked in. I fetched another round of drinks while he finished it, and he looked embarrassed. "Should've been my round."

"No problem." I hadn't given it a second thought actually; in my job the women were expected to get the rounds in as often as the men - in order to prove we were as good as them, I expect. So far, none of the men I worked with had realised I was actually better.

"So, what do you do?"

He was asking the question to be polite, but he was really too tired to take the answer in, and rather than launch into the long-winded explanation I generally used to impress men I limited myself to the job title. "I'm a management consultant."

He nodded, little the wiser but not wanting to show it. I smiled. "Covers about as many possibilities as your 'civil servant' answer."

"But with probably less reason for concealment." He seemed to regret his reply, and applied himself to the drink again.

"Which means?" I was really curious now.

"Nothing. Just winding you up." He was starting to relax a bit now, after the food and drinks, although he was still sitting rather stiffly.

Acting purely on instinct, I leant forward. "Ray? What's wrong? Are you OK?"

He was startled. "I'm fine. Really."

"You seem so tired..." I was more concerned now. Unusually for me, since I tended to avoid contact with strangers, I was keen to learn more about him, to see if I could help him.

"Just been a long day."

"You should have an early night." I heard the invitation in my voice and was startled myself. I'd had my share of partners, but never a one-night stand with a complete stranger before.

I was gratified at the interest I saw in his eyes, before they strayed to my left hand and lingered on the rings. "You're - "

"No, I'm not. I just wear them because it's easier in my job, particularly working for a client which has a 95% male workforce."

Ray relaxed visibly. "I - er - don't like -" he muttered apologetically.

"To poach? That's all right, then." So he was interested. But in spite of the morals, he was also displaying some reservations about picking up a strange woman and spending the night with her - although I had no doubt he'd done it countless times before.

"Shall I get a bottle of wine to take up?" What was wrong with me? I wasn't even drunk. Ray tilted his head slightly to one side, and regarded me gravely. "You don't know what you could be getting into."

If I'd been speeding headlong for abandonment before, the deep green eyes full of amusement and the teasing tone started my stomach churning and sent shivers down to my shoes - and I was lost. I reined in the sudden lust - there was no other word for it - and managed a reply. "Oh, I think I do."

He studied me for a few more seconds before getting up. "I'll get the wine."
 

We walked up the narrow staircase singly; Ray behind me carrying the wine bottle and two glasses. The barman had opened the bottle for him already, whilst giving Ray envious and puzzled looks. He'd tried it on with me my first week here, and had subsequently seen me give several others the brush-off. He was obviously wondering what Ray had that I found so intriguing. Good question; I was wondering that myself.

As soon as we got into my room I shrugged off my jacket and kicked my heels off, reducing myself in height by a couple of inches. The job demanded smart suits and the shoes to match, but I was much happier in jeans and trainers. The ease with which Ray wore his clothes was definitely one thing I found attractive about him.

He glanced around the room and moved to set the bottle and glasses on the table by the window, turning back to face me. I pursued him quite shamelessly across the room and in trying to push his jacket off found my wrists caught in a surprisingly strong grip. His expression was odd. "Hold on."

I froze, suddenly wondering if I had made a mistake after all, but he released me. "I'll do it." Ray slipped the jacket off his shoulders and I know my eyes widened at the sight of the gun nestling in his shoulder holster. "Wow. Is that real?"

"I'm with CI5." Taking a step away, Ray flexed his arms and extricated himself from the holster, but not without a good deal of wincing.

I'd heard of them. Some sort of governmental police department, with high levels of power to deal with crime. Well, that explained the civil service, and his partner's concussion. And the careful way Ray was moving. "Were you in some sort of fight earlier?"

"Got a few bruises. You should see the other guy..."

I moved up close again and purred at him, beginning to work on his shirt buttons. "Why don't we take a shower together, and see if warm water will do you any good?"

My calm acceptance of his occupation seemed to reassure him, and Ray caught my hair gently to tilt my head back, and kissed me.

I'd expected experience, and that's what I got. The initial soft pressure of his lips increased suddenly as my fingers stroked lightly across his naked chest, and his tongue flicked at my lips, demanding entrance.

We somehow managed to maintain the kiss as I pushed his shirt backwards over his shoulders and once his hands were free, Ray turned his attention to my blouse which swiftly followed his shirt to the floor. Breaking free of the kiss, I stepped back and unbuttoned the skirt and let it drop.

Part of that business image was black tights. Except I hated wearing them, so opted for the next best thing; stockings. Uncomfortable sometimes, but there was no doubting their effect on men - and I saw Ray gulp as he got the full picture of lacy bra, suspender belt and panties - all black, of course.

Making some sort of incoherent murmur, Ray caught me up in a firm embrace, kissing and stroking as he efficiently unclasped my bra. His hands were warm on my breasts, and he roughly tweaked the already hard nipples between thumb and forefinger. I moaned, feeling his arousal hard against my stomach, and reached for his belt.

We were both ready now, and the proposed shower forgotten, I pushed his jeans down as he dealt similarly with my panties, and we collapsed back onto the bed, kicking ourselves free of the restricting clothes.

Ray was planting small caresses around my neck and lips, eyes half-closed, hands sensitively stroking and assimilating my shape and the feel of my skin, soaking it all in. I wriggled impatiently; his cock was hard against my stockinged thigh and I wanted him... "Fuck me, Ray."

His lips smiled against mine. "Patience is a virtue," he told me, hands moving lower.

"So's chastity," I reminded him. "But I'm not too hot on that either..." Another wriggle and I grasped his erection firmly, pulling him towards me and spreading my thighs invitingly. With the pressure I was exerting on his cock he stopped resisting and rolled onto me, thrusting willingly.

He was thick and I moaned in genuine delight as he filled me, wrapping my legs up behind him, pulling him in tightly, and luxuriating in his body weight. He propped himself up on his elbows and began to get into a rhythm, and I moaned again.

It probably rated as the best sex I'd ever had, but Ray still came before I was anywhere near peaking. When he could breathe again, he lifted his head and started to apologise. "I was trying to hold back, to wait for you..."

"Doesn't matter. I rarely come first time; but it was great." I ran my hand through his curls. "What about that shower?"
 

We stood under the water together. It was wonderful; Ray soaped and massaged and caressed me, and then I did the same for him. In addition to the bruises he'd obviously picked up earlier, there were other little scars and nicks on his skin, legacy of his profession. I could have stood there all night, but Ray was obviously tired, and I reluctantly turned the taps off.

We shared the towel as well; even the way Ray used it to dry me was stimulating, and I had no doubt I could have aroused him to a second bout if I wanted. On the other hand I didn't want him falling asleep on me, so I finished drying his back and gave him a light slap on the bum. "Go and lie down."

Following him from the bathroom a few minutes later, I wasn't surprised to see he was already dead to the world. Wrapping the bathrobe around me, I wandered over and poured a glass of the wine we hadn't got round to earlier, and glanced at the clock. I giggled to myself; it wasn't yet ten, and I'd seduced and shagged a strange man already tonight...
 

I'd occupied myself with a book. It had been too early for me to sleep, but I was hoping that Ray wasn't too exhausted. I wasn't sure I could bring myself to wake him.

It was just after midnight when he stirred and flopped over onto his back, tossing the sheets away. Curled up next to him, my eyes were drawn irresistibly to his groin and my fingers itched to reach out and stroke the limp cock. I nobly resisted the urge, although I couldn't help but continue to look, remembering Ray's aroused size and the wonderful feeling I'd had when he'd first entered me.

And whether it was normal for Ray, or some primeval reaction to my staring, I don't know, but his cock twitched and stiffened, ever so slightly.

Any further hesitation was banished amidst my earlier thoughts, that we might not have time in the morning, and I discarded the book and bathrobe and slid down the bed. I was fairly good at this particular wake-up call...

Cupping and gently squeezing his balls, I ran my tongue along his cock, feeling an instant if subconscious response. The slight stiffening became an erection; and I licked at the velvet tip.

Ray was awake now; subconscious arousal hardening into a fully-aware sexual response, and I sucked his cock into my mouth, hearing his groan. "Christ..."

No, just Lesley, I thought, but didn't give up my mouthful to say it, trailing my tongue up and down the veins before sucking him in deep, concentrating on not gagging. I felt his hand catch in my hair and slid upwards again, pausing to suck at the tip. His hips were tense with the effort of not moving, and I appreciated his restraint. The partner who had persuaded me to my first blow-job had nearly made it his last by thrusting so hard I'd nearly been sick. Fortunately - for my partners that was - I hadn't been completely put off.

I lifted my head to look at him and Ray caught my arm and drew me up beside him to kiss me, our tongues meeting as his hands explored again. Trailing kisses down my neck, Ray paused. "Tell me what you like."

Considerate as well as restrained. Most men didn't bother to ask. "From behind," I managed, surprised I'd admitted it even as I began to move. Even though it was my favourite position, it made me feel vulnerable and submissive.

He didn't reply, simply slid up tight behind me as I knelt, and I felt his lips pressing gently at my shoulders, and his hands stroking firmly along my thighs, spreading my legs, cock hard and nudging at me...

His fingers found my clit, and he stroked and revelled in the wetness. I whimpered, needing him inside me, and felt him spread my folds and push, and I gasped as his cock sank deeply into me.

A few smooth thrusts, and suddenly Ray sank back, arm around my waist pulling me with him and keeping us joined, so that I was almost sitting on his lap. Lips kissing around my neck, left hand busy at my nipples, his right hand delicately teased at my clit. I felt all my nerve-endings tingle as he thrust into me and gave up conscious thought to experiencing the pleasure coursing through me.

My orgasm was crashing; I could feel myself squeezing Ray's cock, my pleasure doubled as he suddenly came and I could feel him pulsing...
 

Curled together, Ray still inside me, we drifted off to sleep. Whether we had time in the morning or not, didn't matter now. I was sated, and happy.
 

Tomorrow night I'd go home to Geoff, but for the last time. I'd almost made the decision to leave him a few weeks ago; this chance encounter was all I'd needed to convince me there had to be more to life...


 

© Carol Good - November 2000