The Blackfire Protocol by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 32

Holding the door, Frank watched as the men walked down the stairs and out into the street. Once he closed the door, he walked to the front window, where he watched them get into an unassuming black car. However, the man who carried the conversation hesitated and looked up at the window where Frank stood watching. Neither seemed surprised at this silent exchange, pausing as if to read the other's thoughts. Neither would yield in their glare until the man standing at the driver’s door finally got in, started the engine, and drove away from the curb. Letting out a sudden sigh of relief, he walked back to the couch and sat down while putting his head in his hands.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

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He thought this must be a joke, yet they knew so much about him and his family. They knew about the injury he sustained while in high school. He wondered what else they knew that they weren’t telling him. With this thought, he suddenly feared over what he wasn’t being told. It’s always the unknown, isn’t it?

His fear turned to a startle as his phone rang. It was Betsy, and she sounded distraught. “Frank?” she asked. “Are you busy? I really need to talk to you. Can I come over?”

He could never say no to her and immediately said yes in spite of the stress he felt. He also knew that should they spend the night together, his stress would be purged as the night wore on. Ten minutes later, Betsy knocked at his door and was immediately let in. The moment she made eye contact with him, Betsy released a torrent of tears as she wrapped her arms around him. “Betsy,” Frank began. “What is it?” He assumed she had received her test scores, and they might not be as high as she may have wanted. “I’m not getting into law school,” she replied. “My scores weren’t high enough. I’m not going to be a lawyer.”

Tears continued streaming down her face as Frank continued holding her. What could he possibly say? He was well on his way with funding from what he had labeled a deep-dark group.

“I wish I knew what to say,” Frank said. “You had a plan ‘B’, right? Something about journalism?” Clutching him tighter, Betsy seemed to resign herself from the idea of journalism, believing the only way she would make a difference was as a lawyer. Frank

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was about to prove her wrong, and pulling himself away by mere inches proposed an idea. “Hey,” he said. “A Bachelor's degree in pre-law and a Master's in journalism. Talk about being dangerous. You could still make your mark, just not the way you planned on, right?”

Betsy leaned back and, looking into his eyes, smiled broadly.

“You always know what to say to a girl, don’t you?” She seemed to have recovered emotionally as she stepped into him and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

“You’re right, you know,” she said. “A journalist with a background in environmental law? I could kick some ass.”

All seemed right with Betsy’s world as she peeled off her jacket, then her blouse and bra. Soon, she was holding him down on his bed while guiding him into her body with a soft, warm hand. With the excitement of what her future now held, her soul erupted with an arousal he had not seen before. He lay beneath her, watching as she achieved release while exploding with the soul of a lioness. With her mind nearly semi-conscious, Frank grabbed her around the waist and, dropping her on her back, looped his elbows around the inside of her knees. Forcing them up towards her shoulders, he manipulated his way inside her and began pushing and retreating. Pushing harder each time, he watched as Betsy suddenly became conscious with eyes wide, then achieved release a few more times and drifted off with a smile on her face. Looking at her soft, beautiful face, he wondered if Betsy had finally had her fill. They had been together only a few times,

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and Frank had always had difficulties satisfying her urges. It was not a matter of being able to perform but for how long, and he suspected that regardless of who he met in his future, he would never meet anyone with Betsy’s appetite. He considered himself lucky to be alive every time they parted company for the weekend. But now he believed that with him going to law school and her going to who knows where to study journalism, they might be parting company for the last time. This left him torn between how much he would miss having sex with her and the fact that he would now have more time to study. But in secret, she felt the same way. The only thing she needed to do was take the entrance exam for journalism and pick a school. She hoped to stay at George Washington University not just because it was one of the best schools in the country, but because she could also continue spending time with him. For Betsy, he wasn’t just another well-hung man. There was something else about him— something she could not define, something mysterious.