This story has mature content, so I do not recommend it to all readers. And I hope this story does not end up like my other, where they drift off to be forgotten. But, I hope you like it and I don't want any comments on how messed up my brain is because I know already. So please read. If you don't like it, don't read it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rosetta's POV I smiled at the men and women that passed me. I needed to get to my target. I knew he was here. Every CIA agent was here, including my inside partner. Brandon Mitchells walked over to me, putting his hand on the small of my back. "Have you found him?" I whispered. "Yeah. To our left. He's an easy target. Drunk and very grabby," he whispered back. "I'm goin' in," I whispered, looking up at him. He nodded and walked away, leaving me to my work. I walked over to my target. "Hi," I smiled, ready to seduce him. "Hello, sweet cheeks," he said, his words slurred. "What's your name, hun?" I asked. "Kyle. Kyle Donnahe. And yours?" Kyle smiled. "Rosetta," I smiled. I watched him, his eyes all over my body. Perfect. "So, where you from, Kyle?" I asked, batting my eyes lashes. "New Jersey," he smiled drunkenly. "Sounds nice. So, wanna come back to my place?" I grinned, seducing him, my voice sinking to a whisper. "Sure, sweetheart," he smiled, putting his arm around my waist. As we walked out, I itched my nose, giving Brandon the signal. He nodded and walked out ahead of us. When we got out of the building, Kyle grabbed my ass. I smirked, ready for the plan to take action. We walked to my car, Kyle's hand still on my ass. Once we got in my Mustang, I drove to the hotel I was staying at, seeing Brandon behind us. I smiled to myself while Kyle stayed quiet, looking up and down at my body. But, boy he didn't have any idea what he was heading to. I parked in the parking lot and got out, smiling as Kyle got out, slipping, almost falling on his face. I took his hand and lead him to my room, which was on the first floor. He smiled as I pulled him into my room, not bothering to lock it. He fell onto the bed, watching me kick off my heels. I pulled off my black dress, smiling at him. I kissed him, seducing him, gripping his head. He kissed me back as I twisted his head. SNAP! His lips went limp. So did his whole body. And that meant that he was dead. And that meant more money for me. And Brandon. "The cat's out of the bag!" I called, giving Brandon the signal. I got off of the man, smiling at his body. "Poor man. He was drunk and seduced, and then killed," I smirked as Brandon walked inside the room. I pulled back on my black dress, pulling my black hair out of the way so he could zip it up. "How are you?" he asked casually as he zipped up my dress. "Beautiful, as always. And not too bad with my hands either," I smirked, watching him look at the body. "Easily done. Such an easy target. Also, it seems, too easy," he said, stroking his chin. "He was drunk. And very turned on. He probably thought this would be a one night stand. After all, he didn't bother hiding his wedding ring," I said, sliding on my heels. "Time for you to lay low," he said, walking out of the room with me. We checked out and we got to our cars, getting in to head to a new hotel. we checked in together, ready to relax. I fell onto the bed and turned on the news, seeing the report of the CIA Honorary Ball, the last interview of Kyle Donnahe, and the interview of the organizer the event. I smiled to myself as Brandon fell into the bed beside me, smirking. It was time to wait for the news story. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Don't be mean if you hate it.
Update! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brandon's POV I slicked back my hair as I heard Rose call for me. I walked out of the bathroom and smiled as the news story flashed onto the screen. "In other news... Two nights ago, after the CIA Honorary Ball, the honored CIA agent, 62 year old Kyle Donnahe, was murdered in a local hotel," the news reporter started. "No witnesses report seeing Mr. Donnahe leaving the ball. His car was found with the rest in the parking lot. Resources say his killing may be linked to the other recent killings of other CIA agents around the country. There is no evidence linking anyone to the crime at the moment. In other news..." "Another one down, many more to go," Rose smirked, standing from her seat at the small table. "And with my trick of hand." "And my help from the inside. Those cops are dumber than a sack of doorknobs not to see it was you and I," I laughed. "You are a CIA agent. No one is going to suspect you. And I am not in the system," she smirked. "Thanks to me," I smiled at her. "I am CIA, the only thing keeping your radiant beauty alive." "And the company that hired us," she said, stretching. "Speaking of them, have they called?" Then I heard my phone ring. "Speak of the devil." I answered it, "Hello." "I saw the story. Excellent job. Be sure to tell Rose that from me," the deep voice said. "Of course, sir. Who's next?" I asked. "Michael Bennett," the voice said as they hung up. "Who's next?" Rose asked. "Michael Bennett. I know him personally," I smiled, a plan already forming. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Will Michael be young and a hunk or old and out of date?
Haven't updated in three days but now I can update! So here it is. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rosetta's POV I sat at the table next to Brandon. His "date" was sitting across from me. I knew people thought I was with Brandon, but they had no idea. I waited for Michael, thinking he was an older man like my other victims. "Where is he?" I whispered to Brandon. "He'll be here. After all, he was anxious to meet you," he whispered back. Suddenly I saw a younger man come around the corner. He walked towards us, smiling at Brandon. "Mitchells," he greeted. "Bennett," Brandon nodded. The younger man turned towards me. "And you, my dear, must be my date," he smiled, such a brilliant white smile that just dazzled me. "Rosetta," I smiled, holding out my gloved hand. He took it in his, kissing the top of it. I blinked, not knowing what to say. "Michael Bennett, my dear Rosetta," he smiled as he looked into my eyes. His eyes were a gorgeous green, sparkling in the low lighting of the restaurant. "I have heard," I smiled back, knowing my smile wasn't close to dazzling him. It was as if I wasn't trying, letting myself be the one seduced. "You are as beautiful as Mitchells told me, possibly more," he said, causing me to freeze in shock. I had heard myself being called beautiful before, but hearing him say it was...different. "Why, thank you," I finally said. Brandon was glancing at me, wandering what was up. "Hello," suddenly a young woman said. "I am Viviana, I'll be your server this evening. Would you all like something to drink?" "Red wine," Brandon's date said. "I'll take that as well, please," I said, needing to be distracted. "Water," Brandon said, glancing at me again. "I'll have the same as him," Michael said. I looked at him, becoming fooled. Most men I killed would become drunk, but not him. He seemed to have an outer glow, a young one as well. "So, Rosetta, what do you do for a living?" Michael asked after a moment. "Nothing. My parents recently passed and they were quiet wealthy. At the moment, I have no job," I said soon after, lying easily. "You seem to look like a dancer," he said. By '"dancer" he meant stripper, slut, one of the easy ones. Close to my real job. Not too close, but close. He was good, a bit too good. "Well, that explains how my mother met my father," I laughed, lightening the mood with a joke. Everyone laughed quietly, not quite getting it. Soon after we finished eating the entree and after my third glass of red wine, we headed out to the hotel, first dropping off Brandon's date. We got there and I was feeling a bit out of place. But the gorgeous guy next to me was keeping me up, keeping me steady. He walked me to my room, his blonde hair brushing my neck as I lurched forward into my room. Brandon waited outside, as planned, waiting for me to kill the guy. But the problem was, I wasn't felling right. For me, three glasses of red wine is three too many. I never drank, not before that night. That night was different for me and Brandon and Michael. Micheal kissed me passionately, asking, "Is the first date too soon?" "Not for me," I whispered, kissing him back. And let me tell you, those kisses were electric. I had goosebumps on my arms and legs. I pulled off my dress, Micheal hitting me with another kiss. More electricity. Each kiss lead to another piece of clothing to be removed until we were naked, him lying on top of me, kissing me like there was no tomorrow. Then he started going down my body, goosebumps not planning to leave. Every kiss lead to a shiver. Every kiss was filled with one thing. It is easy to sum up. And that was lust. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lust.