Sweating heavily, his balding head glistening, the sixty-seven year old rutted into her, mindless of the blood or her pain and discomfort. Flab on his pale arms and thick thighs trembled like Jell-O, his potbelly holding the child to his bed.

The twelve-year-old blond lay beneath him inert, exhausted from fighting him, tears slipping from the corners of her tightly shut eyes, one bruised and swelling, her mind gone seeking refuge in happier memories as the old man fucked her, shoving his penis deep.

He felt his orgasm nearing, his erection straining as he fucked the no-longer-virgin girl. Sweat gathered on the thick pelt of gray hair that covered his back, fat buttocks thrusting. Approaching nirvana, his liver-spotted hands gripped the girl's small shoulders. With hard thrusts, pulling her shoulders firmly, he penetrated her bruised vagina deeper, slamming against her cervix and making her moan and writhe in pain. Pleased with her distress, the sixty-seven-year-old thrust deeply into her, holding himself inside as his penis swelled and semen spurted, his climax upon him. Drawing back, he thrust again, pleasure blossoming as he ejaculated strongly into the child. Now in the full sway of his orgasm he thrust with short, hard strokes, his erection spitting cum into her small body with every stroke until, satiated, he collapsed on her, gasping for breath, mindless of her being smothered by his flabby body. His mind immediately dismissed her; he'd finished with her. He thought about the younger girl he'd demanded from his supposed partners. Younger was always better.

Eventually, he rolled off the child to fall asleep, even though it was early afternoon.

Six hundred and ninety-eight miles to the north, a jacketed hollow-point bullet passed through an open window, a silent killer traveling at 2,674 feet per second, losing velocity as it battled gravity and air resistance. It found its target, passing though thin skin and punching through the temporal bone, mushrooming to five times its size to guarantee lethal damage. Now large, it liquefied the brain before slamming forcefully against the parietal bone, exploding out with residual velocity and leaving a four-inch gaping hole behind. Blood, hair and liquefied brain matter splattered against the white wall creating a Jackson Pollock-like painting, skull fragments adding three-dimensional depth and texture.

Terrence Black, lawyer and money-launderer who had tried to leverage his knowledge for financial gain, dropped to the floor, inert, dead before his brain could even register the intrusion. Bowels released from flaccid muscles starved of instructions from the brain, staining his bathrobe and the hardwood floor.

Four hundred and twenty-three yards away, a gray eye looking through a Zeiss telescopic sight blinked once and disappeared. In a series of practiced moves the custom sniper rifle was fluidly disassembled, each piece carefully placed in an aluminum case, nestled into gray foam custom-shaped to hold it.

Three minutes after Terrence Black died a man slipped out of the hotel room, closing the door gently behind him carrying one piece of luggage, a rectangular brushed aluminum case. Moving to the emergency stairs he slipped inside the stairwell, paused, listened for a moment, and descended quickly, exiting at the garage level B2. Placing his case behind the driver's seat, he climbed in and started a rented Ford Focus.

He calmly negotiated the car out of the garage and onto the main road busy with rush-hour traffic, bumper to bumper, bleating horns expressing drivers' frustrations that were intensified by oppressive heat.

His heart rate hadn't exceeded seventy-five beats per minute since the jacketed hollow-point bullet left the rifle on a mission to kill.

Jason Pitt stepped out of his Ford F150. Sun beat down on the barren landscape in an intense suffocating heat. Taking in the scrub brush and sand of the Nevada desert, hills heat-shimmering in the distance, he pulled out a disposable cell. From memory he dialed long distance.

In a small temperature and humidity controlled room in Virginia buried deep beneath ground level, computers started recording and hunting, seeking to locate the signal, seeking Jason Pitt.

"It is done. When will the transaction be completed?" he asked in a cool, nondescript voice, confirming the balance of his fee would be paid.

"As soon as we have confirmation," a smooth voice answered. "We have one more request."

"Send the information through. I'll look at it and let you know," Jason instructed.

"This one's important and urgent. Twice the fee."

"Send the information," Jason growled, annoyed a fee was even hinted at on an unsecured cell phone. He cut off the call, dropped the cell phone and ground it under his heel until the casing cracked and shattered. Bending, he pulled out the SIM card, slipping it in his pocket. It would be burned later.

Stretching his back, Jason rolled his shoulders before climbing into the pick-up. He had a long journey ahead.

He wondered why he didn't quit as he drove the monotonous road, heading northwest towards California. He had more than enough money to live comfortably. He didn't like ostentation so, with his cabin and property paid for, he didn't have to work. Even the adrenalin rush no longer excited him. That had suddenly disappeared in a messy Iraq mission several years ago. He felt nothing now, no emotion, no like or dislike. It was as if he was treading water, going through the motions of life and making no progress, stuck; the world was vanilla.

Sighing, he pulled into a gas station to fill up, mindlessly manning the pump as gasoline vapors filled the air. He wrestled with his problem; if he quit what would he do? With the exception of reading, he had no hobbies, no friends, no social circle. He was supremely accomplished in a field he could never talk about and had no place in normal society. Assassination was not a transferable skill.

Jason drove robotically, nine long hours fighting boredom, drowsiness and resisting self-analysis. He felt his body physically relax when he finally neared his destination, driving through the tall pines and conifers in the dark of night, gaining altitude along the twisting, winding road, the hot air cooling with altitude. Slowing, he turned into a barely visible drive, the pickup shaking and rolling on the uneven, unpaved surface, trees forming a dark tunnel lit starkly by white headlights.

As the pickup rattled over a wooden bridge fording a deep crevasse his log cabin appeared, seemingly old and weather-worn. Silence stormed in when the engine died, slowly replaced by the whisper of a breeze, quiet night sounds of the rustling forest and the faint rush of water from deep in the crevasse. Jason, tired from the long drive and needing a shower and some sleep, pulled a brushed aluminum rectangular case from behind the driver's seat, grabbed a duffle bag and climbed the steps onto the veranda. Home.

Sweating profusely from his twelve-mile morning run, Jason showered, grabbed a cup of coffee and opened a concealed door at the back of his walk-in bedroom closet. Following circular metal steps he descended, fluorescent lights flickering on automatically with his presence. The room, hewn from solid rock, was gleaming, perfectly organized with large computer servers racked beside a long desk on the right, hard drives humming, lights blinking. Six LCD monitors stacked three by two stood blank on the long desk, a black keyboard and mouse below.

Turning to the left he spun a combination lock and opened a deep closet, walking in as fluorescent lights flickered on. A wide selection of weapons, rifles, handguns, knives and miscellaneous electronics lined the walls neatly, orderly, the smell of gun oil and gunpowder in the dry air. With surprising speed and elegant efficiency he stripped and cleaned his sniper rifle, replacing each component into its foam slot before closing the aluminum case and storing it.

At the computer he routed his request through four anonymous servers before logging into a temporary email account. One message.

Mr. Smith,

Luiz Castana, Sierra Vista, Arizona.

Terms: $2.3 million, 50% payable on acceptance, 50% on verified completion.

Conditions: None. Termination method is at your discretion.

Timing: ASAP, urgent.

Details:

Luiz Castana owns an estate in the hills outside of Sierra Vista. It is walled and guarded. He travels rarely and when he does it is in a convoy of two armored Escalades accompanied by four bodyguards, two in his SUV, two in a trailing SUV.

He has no hobbies or vises with the exception of a love of fine food and wine. He runs his drug organization from a distance using encrypted communications. Photographs, plans and surveillance videos can be seen at this link, http://forman.ubs.ch/holiday_snaps. The material will be online for two days.

Reply required within 24 hours.

Rhapsody

Jason closed and deleted the email having memorized the details. Switching to another computer he ran a Trojan horse program, burrowing through seven anonymous servers before entering the government's HUD system. From their system he viewed the images and videos on the net before sending a response from a one-time email account.

Rhapsody,

Accepted. Make the transfer. Three days to completion starting from receipt of funds.

Mr. Smith

Lying flat on hard packed earth, trees and shrubs disrupting his outline, Jason spent the long afternoon on a hill overlooking Mr. Castana's estate, gray eyes locked to Zeiss high-optic binoculars, unfazed by the heat, memorizing the sloppy security of armed guards, all big, muscle-bound, thick-necked and bored. Insects buzzed around him unnoticed as he studied lax security routines.

At 2:42 am he moved. Clad in black with rubber-soled shoes he slipped silently though the dark. It took one leap for him to grasp the top of the stone wall. An effortless pull and he was prone on the top watching a guard standing smoking twelve feet away, the tip of his cigarette flaring with each inhalation.

Silently he let himself slip to the ground, crouching. Lights near the mansion, a baroque monstrosity in white marble with tall two-story colonnades, barely filtered out to the wall, a serious security oversight. Slipping though the shadows, Jason crept up behind the muscle-bound guard. Moving suddenly, he grabbed the guards head and chin. A quick twist and the crunch of breaking vertebrae filled the silence, no louder than someone cracking their knuckles. Holding the dead guards body, Jason lowered it to the ground quietly.

Moving quickly he returned to the shadows and followed the outer wall. Seven minutes later three guards lay in the shadows with broken necks. Jason's heartbeat hadn't exceeded 85 beats per minute.

He'd selected the kitchen door as his entry point. The kitchen was dark, unoccupied. Two lock-picks defeated the Yale lock in less than twenty seconds and he was inside; another security lapse. Security lights from outside the window cast shadows in the large commercial grade kitchen. Moving silently Jason wended his way thought the stainless steel kitchen, pausing to listen at the kitchen door. No sounds could be heard. Knowing the back stairs were to the left, he slipped through the door, padding quietly down the bare servants hall lit by a single overhead light bulb and started climbing. Peering out from the second floor stairwell he looked into the well-lit hallway; reproduction old master paintings in ornate gilded frames hung on the walls, an imitation suit of armor stood silent vigil at the top of the curving staircase to his left. To his right, doors spaced irregularly on either side were all closed. Down the hall, sitting on a plain wood chair next to double mahogany doors was a beefy guard, thick neck, over-muscled, bored. Jason wondered at the stupidity of people like Luiz. Why didn't they understand over-muscular guards were slow, uncoordinated and incapable of rapid action? He noted the telltale outline of a pistol in the guard's tightly stretched jacket.

Moving back into the stairwell, his back against the wall, Jason started whispering, quiet, barely heard, unintelligible. He heard the guard rise, the chair scraping on the hardwood floor. He whispered again, almost like a rustling wind. Muscles tensing, he waited. Footsteps, leather soled shoes slapping on the hardwood floor, let him follow the beefy bodyguard as he approached. When he turned into the stairwell Jason exploded into action, a hard, hard jab to the solar plexus with rigid fingers, the guard's breath whooshing out. Grabbing the guard's head as he bent reflexively, Jason guided it down adding velocity, knee rising. A sharp crack echoed as cartilage was broken. Another crunch broke the silence, vertebrae breaking when the head was wrenched, torqued beyond its limits. Silently Jason lowered the dead bodyguard to the floor. If the intelligence was right, that was all the security taken care of; the last three out on their night off. The old cook and housemaid were not important.

Walking quickly, silently, he approached the double doors of the master bedroom. Sounds, muffled by the thick doors, were unidentifiable. Listening at the door he heard what sounded like crying. Carefully he twisted the doorknob and cracked open the door peering in.

Luiz, fat, naked, balding, with gray hair on his back like a pelt, was on the king-sized bed, on his knees, flabby arms and legs, pot-bellied, and struggling with someone. His hand rose. A sharp slap echoed followed by a childish yelp. As Luiz shifted slightly, Jason saw a small child, naked. Luiz sported an erection he'd grasped in one hand, the other hand firmly holding the chest of the struggling child to the bed, her legs spread over his thighs.

For the first time Jason's heart rate broke one hundred. Moving with sudden speed he crossed the plush carpeted bedroom, pulling a thin six-inch-long, hardened steel needle out from one sleeve. Despite his speed, he was completely silent as he approached the bed. Leaning over, he plunged the long pin though the base of Luiz's skull, angling it up from under the occipital bone. The sharp needle pierced the brain. A twist cut nerve signals and Luiz was dead, his inert body collapsing to the side. He never registered his own death; dead with an erection.

Rolling Luiz to the floor, a loud solid thump finally breaking the silence, Jason looked at the child, naked, perhaps eight years old, light olive skin, thick shoulder-length dark brown, almost black hair, slim nose, deep blue eyes filled with terror and tears. Looking down, he frowned at the blood at her groin and the red stain on silk sheets. It appeared she'd been raped, her pudendum still raw, vagina stretched, blood oozing.

For a moment he hesitated. This was not part of the plan. Yet the look of terror and pain on her small face couldn't be ignored. Glancing around Jason spotted a blanket and, on the floor at the side of the bed, childish panties, a torn flower-print dress and sandals.

With surprising gentleness and care he wrapped the child in the blanket and picked up her clothes. She was shaking, eyes wide, scared, tears welling and slowly tumbling, silent. Carrying her effortlessly with one arm Jason left the bedroom, descended the stairs, slipped out of the kitchen door and, unlocking a gted rear entrance, left the mansion.

Ten hours later he left Arizona behind and entered Nevada, his mind occupied. Who was the girl? What should he do with her? She hadn't said a word; in shock he thought. Asleep in the passenger seat she was still wrapped in the blanket, undressed. Finally stopping for more gas, he pulled a disposable cell phone out and dialed from memory.

In a small temperature and humidity controlled room in Virginia buried deep beneath ground level computers started recording and hunting again, seeking to locate the signal, comparing it to previous calls, processing, seeking a pattern; seeking Jason Pitt.

"It is done," Jason spoke in a cool, nondescript voice.

"Confirmation?" a smooth voice asked.

"Call the local police," Jason answered, adding, "I expect the balance of our understanding to be processed."

"When we have proof, Mr. Smith."

Jason paused, and then added, "There was a complication."

"What complication?"

"A child at the location." He listened to the sudden silence.

"The girl is not our problem, Mr. Smith." The connection was severed abruptly.

Dropping the disposable cell phone to the ground he stomped on it, crushing the casing. Reaching down he extracted the SIM card, his mind mulling over why Rhapsody thought it was a girl. How would he know?

Nine hours later a dusty Ford F150 rattled over a wooden bridge and headlights lit up the log cabin. Jason, looking weary from the continuous drive, struggled out of the pickup, rounded to the passenger side and lifted a blanket-wrapped child out. He carried her to his guest bedroom putting her under the sheets, covering her and, leaving a bedside light on, left the room with the door ajar, deep in thought.

Morning sun woke him, his body aching from falling asleep in the armchair and the long, long drive. He changed into running gear, checked on the child, still asleep, turned the coffee maker on and left the cabin.

Sweating and feeling somewhat better Jason showered, changed and checked on the child again. She was huddled under the covers, big deep blue eyes staring at him, frightened, curled up, defensive. Leaving the room, he returned with a large bath towel, her panties, her sandals and one of his large T-shirts, her cheap dress torn and no longer wearable.

Placing them on the bed, he spoke gently. "You should take a bath, across the hall there," he said pointing. When she didn't move, he added with a smile, "You're safe here. Just take your time."

Frying bacon, he heard the bathroom door close. Twenty minutes later, the girl emerged and stood silently at the kitchen door, long T-shirt to mid-thigh, wet hair dark and shining, deep blue eyes wide and watching him warily.

Jason placed a plate of bacon and eggs on the table, nodding at the plate. "Breakfast. You must be hungry."

He watched her think about it before reluctantly being drawn by the enticing aroma of bacon. In his T-shirt she looked even smaller. She winced as she sat. Watching him cautiously she took a bite of bacon and after swallowing, bent to the plate and inhaled every scrap of food.

"What's your name?" Jason asked, placing a glass of orange juice in front of her before starting to eat his breakfast, munching on a strip of bacon as he studied her. She was petite, delicate, with thick natural eyebrows, a small nose flaring out gently with a slight upturn at the tip giving her a mischievous appearance. Her mouth added to the impression, wide, dark red lips, full lower and bowed upper, with a hint of an upward curl at the ends. Jason ate slowly waiting her out, letting her assess him with her watchful dark blue eyes.

"Carla."

"Hi, Carla," he said gently. "Pleased to meet you."

"Who are you?" she asked in a light voice, delicate, soft, still wary.

"I'm Jason."

"Thank you for stopping him," she said, tears glinting in her eyes.

"Do you hurt?"

She nodded, a single tear slipping over her lashes. Jason stood, disappeared and returned placing some aspirin at her side. "It's all I have but it might help. Have you eaten enough?"

When she nodded he offered her his hand. "Come. You should rest." He led her to the couch in the cozy living room facing a big stone fireplace. To one side sat a 29" LCD TV, satellite box underneath and a DVD player below that. The logs gave the walls interesting curves, old and faded with darker knots and small cracks. She winced again as she sat then laid back. He covered her with a throw blanket he used for the cool evening temperatures at this altitude.

Turning on the TV he handed her the remote. "I have a few things to do. I'll be back in a while, okay?"

She looked at him silently then nodded, turning her attention to the TV. As Jason left the living room Carla turned and watched him go, wondering who he was, how come he was at the fat man's house, why did he take her away? She was glad he did, though. That fat old man hit her and hurt her.

Jason searched missing person databases looking for a girl called Carla who might match the physical description. There was nothing there, nothing even close. He felt cornered. What was he supposed to do with Carla? She needed to be seen by a doctor, she might need medical attention and yet, how? How could he take her to one?

Even more of a conundrum was who could take her in? The circumstances he found her in precluded any questions. His success was partially based on remaining below the radar. He couldn't take a chance, not even for her sake.

Late morning he sat in an armchair after clothes shopping watching Carla asleep on the couch. She seemed comfortable enough. In sleep her face had an innocence about it, something, some quality that suggested a good person. Long dark lashes rested on her cheek, mouth relaxed, soft breaths gently moving her nostrils as small hands clutched the throw blanket to her neck for protection. Jason wondered what led to her being raped. Poor child he thought. Unfortunately there were monsters in the world.

Dark blue eyes opened, instantly awake, instantly showing fear. Her body jerked before she remembered where she was, some home, somewhere, not at the fat man's house. Breathing deeply, she stirred, winced in pain, although better now, and looked at Jason as he sat quietly across from her in an armchair, his gray eyes watching her, unthreatening, frank, comforting.

"Hi, Carla. Feel any better?"

"A bit."

"Good. Do you think I should take a look, make sure you're okay?"

She shuddered, the thought of him seeing her there upsetting her. "No," she said with more force.

"Okay. Look, I can't take you to a doctor. Don't ask why. I just can't. I've put some medicated ointment on the bathroom counter. It will help ease the pain and help you heal. Do you think you could put it on yourself? I've also put some clothes in there for you."

Carla nodded, pulled the throw blanket off, rose wincing slightly again and walked gingerly to the bathroom. Pulling Jason's T-shirt up and panties down, she looked at herself. Her pussy was raw, red and sore. But it wasn't bleeding. Taking the ointment, she put some on her finger and pushed it gently between her lips, sucking in air when a sharp pain stabbed. Steeling herself, she pushed, touching the entrance to her vagina, tears prickling her eyes as she rubbed the ointment in.

Surprised, she felt immediate cooling relief and a small smile curled her lips. Better.

"Carla," Jason began when she returned, moving better he noted with some satisfaction, his concern for her easing just a bit, "can you tell me where you're from?"

"Castanhal," she answered. "Where am I?" she asked with curiosity.

"You're in California. Do you mean Castanhal, Brazil?" Jason asked, perplexed.

"Uh-huh."

"Your family is there?"

"No. They're dead. I was at a home there."

"How did that happen?" It seemed unusual for a white girl who was clearly not Brazilian to be in a home there.

"Dad was a missionary. He and Mom were killed," Carla answered, a frown appearing.

Over the next hour Jason discovered she didn't remember her last name, didn't know if she had any other relatives, although she thought she didn't which was why she was in a home. As she talked he noticed her relaxing, small half smiles appearing every so often, hands becoming animated. Her eyes started sparkling when she asked about California, claiming she couldn't remember if she'd ever been to America.

She had no recollection of how she was transported to America, only remembering the last part of a car ride when she'd woken up just before getting to Luiz's house. Then her eyes darkened. She stopped talking when she remembered the fat man hurting her.

Jason sat, waiting for her to get some of bad memories out, to purge them. She'd have to talk about it if she was to ever recover. Yet as he sat his calm demeanor, his stillness, was betrayed by the pulsing of his artery, visible at his neck, his heart rate elevated. He knew what had happened to her. He'd seen the evidence; red stains on silk sheets coming to mind.

"Carla, do you feel up to going shopping?" Jason asked, thinking a change of scenery might help.

"Okay," she agreed, neither excited nor reluctant.

Jason shopped slowly. It was midweek and the small grocery store wasn't busy. Carla stayed close to his side, moving slightly easier, showing only an occasional wince. But she showed interest in the foods, smiling, asking questions, fascinated by all the different things filling the store shelves. Eventually she even managed a small laugh in the cereal aisle at the cartoons on the boxes. But, regardless of his encouragement, she refused to ask for or choose anything.

"What do you do?" Carla asked over dinner. She'd been at the cabin for two and a half weeks and Jason had never left; except for sometimes when he'd disappear for an hour even though his truck was outside. She'd hunted for him but never found him. Then he'd reappear suddenly out of nowhere. She was intrigued. It was a challenge.

"Contract work mostly," he answered. He'd been surprised at how resilient Carla was. She'd healed within a week, at least physically. Her temperament was even, no histrionics, no temper tantrums. She seemed to adapt quickly to living in his cabin. He was still at odds over what to do with her though.

"What does that mean?" she asked, not understanding what contract work was. Jason was a bit of an enigma to her. He was quiet, soft spoken and polite. He'd probed, wanting to know more about her but she couldn't help him. There was nothing to say. Besides, living in the cabin was way better than the room she shared with seven other girls at the home. The food was better too.

"Just odd jobs really. I fix things for people."

"Like what?"

"Just stuff. Eat," he said nodding at her plate.

He sat in the dark living room after Carla had gone to bed, lost in thought. Something had to be done. He couldn't keep Carla. Perhaps he could drop her off at an agency on the east coast. She'd never be able to find his cabin so he'd be safe. No, that wouldn't work. He felt frustrated when he remembered she'd seen him kill Luiz. Damn, the risk was just too high.

Rising, he went to his room, slipping into the closet, opening the concealed door and descended. Preoccupied, he didn't see two deep blue eyes watching from behind his bed.

At the computer, routing his search through anonymous servers, he penetrated the U.S. State Department's system using another Trojan horse he'd placed there long ago. He searched for information on American missionaries killed in Brazil and found nothing. A flashing icon on another monitor caught his attention. Clicking on it a global map opened, a red line tracing from country to country like old-fashioned airline routes. Hair on the nape of his neck prickled as he studied the trace; someone was trying to find him and as he watched, the red line stopped. Someone had found him. Who? He quickly opened another DOS window, typing rapidly he back-traced the hunter, surprised at the result. Moving back to his original monitor, now concerned, he opened a file and studied surveillance photos he'd taken of Rhapsody. He'd taken them as insurance in case they decided to remove him which was entirely likely given the government-sanctioned work he'd been doing was still illegal under any interpretation of the law. Why were they trying to locate him?

"That's him."

Jason jerked, twisting in his seat. Carla sat on the bottom steps of the circular stairway wearing a long big T-shirt and pink socks. How the hell did she get in? Hadn't he closed the door? Shit!

"You're not allowed in here, Carla."

She pointed at the monitor. "That's him," she repeated.

"Who?"

"Him!" she said insistently, finger jabbing the air. "That's the one that drove me to the house."

Jason glanced back at the monitor and the image of Rhapsody walking out of an office building in Virginia. Confused he turned to Carla. "Come over here and look carefully. Are you sure?"

She stood next to him and peered at the monitor. "Uh-huh. That's him."

What the hell was going on? Rhapsody delivering Carla to Luiz? Was Rhapsody involved in drugs? A tickle of fear made the hair on Jason's neck rise again. Was Rhapsody even with the Government?

His confusion was interrupted by muffled but distinct whump-whump sounds. He recognized them immediately, helicopter blades.

The AH64-A Apache hovered 150 yards from the cabin at treetop level, pines and conifers bending under the downdraft. The front dipped. Bulbous side pods spat flames and two small air-to-ground missiles shot from the helicopter. A massive mushroom-shaped fireball rose, twin explosions shaking the ground as Jason's cabin disintegrated, huge logs tossed into the air like matchsticks from the force.

The underground room shook from the massive explosion above. Dust drifted down from the rock ceiling to coat their hair like light snow. A blast of high-pressure air pulsed through the room making their ears pop.

Exploding into action, Jason spun the combination lock, reached into the closet and grabbed a large black backpack and brushed aluminum rectangular case. "Come, quick," he urged taking Carla's hand, leading her to the back wall. Pulling a file cabinet aside a small crawl hole appeared. "Follow me," he said urgently, slapping a red button that would wipe his hard drives, burn the RAM memory and seal the door to the underground room.

"What happened?"

"Just follow me Carla. Quick now," he urged. Cold fury pulsed through him; those shits had just destroyed his home and tried to take him out and he knew who was responsible, Rhapsody.

The two crawled through the small tunnel and followed the slight right hand bend. The tunnel sloped down and curved sharply to the left. Eventually they reached the end, a small cave large enough for Jason to stand. Leading Carla by the hand he approached the dark entrance. He saw the orange flicker of burning logs dancing on the crevasse walls. Leaning out, he looked up from the base of the crevasse, satisfied himself they wouldn't be observed and led Carla to the right, hugging the wall and following a narrow ledge above the rushing stream, the smell of burning wood strong.

Three hours later Jason strode out of a Walmart with bags in his hand. He climbed into a nondescript used Toyota Camry with rust-rimmed doors, peeling clear-coat and sun-faded brown paint. He handed the bags to Carla who was still in her long T-shirt. "Dress. I hope they fit."

Carla inspected the plain jeans, white socks, pink running shoes and purple T-shirt. Pretty ugly she decided. Jason had no sense of style. Slipping into the back seat she changed, carefully folding the big T-shirt Jason had given her to sleep in, her only possession.

Seven hours later, tired and hungry, they stopped at a rundown motel. Jason paid cash for one night and pulled up in front of unit 8. The room was grimy, worn, the carpet threadbare. An old TV managed to receive one station, the bed sagged in the middle, rust stains ran from the taps to the drains on both the sink and the bathtub. It was a shabby room, but paid for in cash. Anonymous. Safe. Carla held a bag of McDonald's takeout, the aroma of greasy meat and fries filling the room and suiting the accommodations.

"What happened?" Carla asked as she inhaled her burger.

Jason wondered exactly the same thing. What had happened? The only thing he could think of was Carla, it had to be Carla. They had no reason to go after him. "Did the man who took you to Luiz's house know you saw him?"

"Uh-huh," she mumbled, nodding and taking a careful bite of a fry after inspecting the coating of ketchup.

Damn. They were after Carla. Damn. Assholes. Jason's pulse spiked briefly then settled. Well, if they thought they could take him out just because Carla was with him they were in for a surprise. No one gets to try twice. No one.

As they slept fitfully, the sag in the bed gradually forced them together. In his sleep Jason unconsciously inhaled the aroma of a sleeping girl, of Carla, soft seductive pheromones tickling his senses. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, his body unconsciously relaxing and slipping into a deeper sleep. Neither was aware of their body's reactions to each other. As Carla's sweet little bottom nestled back into Jason's groin, two soft sensual buttocks warm against him, he became erect, his penis thickening and extending, rising in his boxers to tent the front and push against slender thighs. Unconsciously he adjusted his hips, his brain recognizing and reacting to the seductive scent of a very special female. Jason's rigid erection nestled into Carla's petite bottom, two cheeks forming around it. Carla reacted unconsciously to the firm shaft pressed against her bottom and aligned between her cheeks, pressing against it, squeezing it with an unconscious slow clench of her sexy buttocks, caressing it. Her eyes moved rapidly behind closed eyelids, dreaming of puppies, of playing, chasing and laughing; happiness.

Jason woke at sunrise to find Carla cuddled with her small back to him, thick hair tickling his nose, her scent filling his nostrils, a petite warm four-foot girl in his arms. It felt odd to have someone in his bed in the morning. It had been years since he'd last felt it. For a few minutes he indulged himself, hugging Carla to him a bit tighter and listening to her soft breathing. She smelled good, it felt comforting.

In a nondescript windowless room in Virginia three men were deep in discussion.

"They just completed the search. He wasn't in the cabin. Nor was the girl," Rhapsody said with some trepidation.

"How did you miss them?" asked a painfully thin, late middle-aged man, hawkish nose, thin mouth and watery brown eyes.

"We don't know yet."

The third man, well dressed, distinguished with a full head of white hair and a white goatee, cut in with a Bostonian accent. "You shouldn't have tried taking him out. He's far too dangerous. Are you sure he doesn't know who we are?"

"He believes all the contracts have been government sanctioned work, James. He's never been near us. We're safe, trust me," Rhapsody said, hoping it was true.

The thin man spoke addressing Rhapsody. "Bill, you've seen his dossier. If he gets so much as a whiff that we were the ones that hit his cabin, you know we're in serious trouble."

"We're fine," Rhapsody insisted, a bead of sweat appearing on his brow; the girl could link him to Luiz, the only link left. It would ruin them. "We'll find him and the girl. We're monitoring the situation closely, keeping a trace on his Bermuda accounts. If anything develops I'll let you know."

The meeting broke up, three men slipping out of the room and, using different exits, headed in different directions; one back to work at the State Department, one heading back to Homeland Defense headquarters, Rhapsody returning to his office at the NSA.

Jason drove across the mid west, heading for Virginia in a circuitous route. The second day he stopped and purchased a netbook, connected to a remote server and downloaded his backed-up programs. Sitting in another anonymous motel room, single bed, laminated dresser scarred with cigarette burns, with Carla quietly watching TV from the bed, he connected to a Lichtenstein account, electronically transferred funds through three other bank accounts before depositing them in an old Bank of America account.

That night, asleep, the two unconsciously cuddled together, Carla seeking comfort from Jason's nearness, feeling protected, safe. Jason held Carla to him, her distinctive scent deepening his sleep. He was unaware of the strong physical reaction her girlish aroma had on him, his erection strong and pulsing, rigid and pushing. He was unaware of her T-shirt riding up over her bottom, unaware of his penis cuddled by her small warm panty-clad buttocks that nestled back into his groin, unaware of an unconscious movement of his hips. His body reacted to the seductive clench of two warm globes, his erection swelling and pulsing slowly, leaking, precum dampening his boxers. Carla was unaware of the slight hardening of her nipples and a rush of blood to her groin, her labia darkening, small clitoris tingling. But her dreams changed and evolved, a puppy left behind as someone who loved her, was tender and caring, emerged. In her dream someone kissed her cheek tenderly and hugged her close. Her lips curled into a smile. Safe, she felt safe.

Late morning Jason pulled into De Queen, Arkansas, stopping at a family restaurant for lunch. He was pleasantly surprised when Carla took his hand as they left the car. Her small delicate hand felt good, the significant action, one of acceptance, perhaps of trust for an adult, was not lost on him. His lips curled in a small smile. He liked how she skipped to keep up with him.

"Where are we going?" Carla asked, sucking a chocolate milkshake loudly through the straw, her cheeks puckering in with effort to get the last drop.

"Virginia," Jason answered, smiling at her determination to get every last bit of the milkshake. "Would you like another?"

"Uh-huh!" she nodded enthusiastically, a large smile, dimples, deep blue eyes twinkling in excitement. "What happened to your cabin?"

Jason wondered what to tell her. His first reaction was to lie, to misdirect. He'd trained himself to shade the truth for so long it was second nature. But looking into Carla's trusting gaze, the idea of lying to her made him feel shame for the first time. "Bad people. Remember the man who drove you to Luiz's house?"

She nodded, a slight frown appearing between her eyebrows.

"Him. And others," he added.

"Why?"

"You saw him, Carla. You can identify him and link him to Luiz."

She looked at Jason for a while. The waitress placed their burgers and fries on the table. Jason ordered another shake for her. "They want me? Are you going to kill them?" she asked, innocently, no concern, just intrigued.

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"You killed the fat man and he was hurting me. If the driver wants to hurt me, aren't you going to kill him too?" It seemed reasonable to her. They were bad and Jason protects her. The fat man deserved to die.

Jason smiled at her logic and, despite it being a child's logic, he couldn't fault it. "You can't kill people just because they hurt you," he told her.

Her face turned serious. "He hurt me when he tried to stick his penis in me. He deserved it."

It struck Jason she'd never spoken about what happened with Luiz. He'd avoided the subject with Carla, worried it would be too sensitive.

As they continued their journey, the late afternoon sun low on the horizon, a monotonous empty road unwinding ahead, tarmac shimmering in the distance and endless white dashes in the center of the road bringing on a hypnotic drowsiness, Jason turned to Carla when she woke from snoozing. "Can you tell me what happened with Luiz?" he asked calmly.

"The fat man?" When Jason nodded she spoke, her voice started neutral, dispassionate. "The guard pulled me up to his room. Then the fat man tore my dress off and pulled my underwear down before pushing me onto the bed. He kept on saying, "Lovely." It was scary how he said it. I tried to kick him but he got angry and hit me. Then he took his bathrobe off. His penis was hard. He was big and fat. Ugh!" She shuddered, her voice becoming stressed. "He was mean too. He slapped me when I tried to push him away," she said earnestly.

"Then he pushed my legs apart and I knew what he was going to do. He was going to have sex with me. I tried to resist, cuz I didn't want to. He was fat and mean and ugly," she said vehemently, adding, "and old!"

"Then he hurt me. When he started to put his penis in me it hurt, Jason. It really hurt. I punched him in the nose cuz that's where you hit stray dogs to stop them. He got really angry and slapped me really hard, and then he was dead. You killed him." She muttered under her breath, "Deserved it, too."

Hmm. Succinct. Sounded like it was the first time he was going to rape her. "You sound okay now Carla. Any nightmares?"

"Not really. Not when you're protecting me," she answered seriously. "I'm safe with you," she added.

"How old are you?" he inquired. He'd never thought to ask that either.

"Nine," she said proudly with a smile. "Almost ten!"

That night in another seedy, nondescript motel, late, deep asleep, two bodies sought out now-familiar comfort, their unconscious minds seeking contact, warmth, companionship. Unconsciously they cuddled and Jason, from the sweet aroma of a soft warm sleeping girl, from the warm small body nestling back into him, soft little buttocks pressing, arms wrapped holding her close, grew erect, his penis thickening, lengthening, slipping out the fly in his boxers, the tip sliding up the crease of Carla's thighs and nestling into her warm pantied crotch.

Carla slept deeply, safe, warm, protected and relaxed. Her dream of running and playing with a puppy changed when Jason's erection poked her soft thighs. A man emerged and she ran towards him, someone she knew she liked but couldn't see his face. He held his arms out to her and she ran, ran hard, flinging herself at him, he was safety, he cared, he loved her, he wrapped his arms around her as her legs wrapped around him. Her body reacted, nipples tingling, an unconscious flow of blood to her crotch, labia thickening, clitoris tingling. Her body wriggled, mimicking herself in her dream when the man kissed her neck, tickling her, warm smell of something.

As she wriggled in his arms, Jason's erection slipped between silky thighs, warm thighs, his erection pulsing, throbbing, leaking; a cuddly little girl held unconsciously tight in his arms, her seductive scent exciting him, sexy yet innocent, intoxicating. His lips curled into an unconscious smile as his hips moved slightly spreading precum between her slender thighs, his eyes moving under his eyelids dreaming an unremembered dream, inhaling deeply.

Sun woke Jason with a start. He was momentarily confused. It felt as if he'd been in a drug-induced sleep, deep, almost coma-like and completely out of character. He lay still letting his mind start working. Carla was in his arms again and she felt good, small, sweet, with a delightful aroma that tickled a part of his brain he couldn't identify. There was something about her scent. He thought he could easily get used to having her there. Feeling her chest expand in his arms as she breathed softly was comforting. She was a sweet girl.

Eventually he extracted himself and walked to the bathroom, surprised and embarrassed to see his penis hanging out of the fly of his boxers. Glancing to the bed to make sure Carla was still asleep and hadn't seen, he closed the bathroom door quietly.

Carla closed her eyes when Jason looked over. Somehow she was embarrassed at the thought of him seeing her look at his penis. It was smaller than the fat old man, and soft, not erect. Slipping out of bed she pulled the T-shirt off, the one he'd lent her the first day and wore every night despite the pajamas Jason had given her. She dressed, pulling her shirt down just as Jason opened the bathroom door.

"All yours," he said.

Sitting on the toilet peeing, Carla wondered why Jason only wore boxers to bed, not pajamas. Wiping herself, she brushed her teeth, feeling good, refreshed. Somehow she'd started sleeping in bed with him. It was safe, but more. Nice too she decided. Jason smelled nice; he smelled comfortable and good.

Traffic started building as they neared Roanoke, Virginia. Darkness had set on their final day of the trip. Spotting an independently owned motel, Jason pulled in. He returned to the Camry with a key.

"Let's eat out tonight," he suggested, bored with take out. "Any suggestions?"

"How about McDonalds?" Carla offered.

Looking over sharply he saw her grin, deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Jason chuckled, started the car and drove to a sixties-style diner. "No burgers or fries," he instructed in a mock serious voice.

"Pancakes then," Carla stated. "What are we going to do here?" she asked.

"You're going to stay in the room and watch TV while I work."

"No I'm not!" she said forcefully. The thought of being left alone bothered her. She'd been with Jason constantly for three weeks. She felt safe with him, used to him. "I'm going wherever you go!"

"You can't, Carla. I have things to do that you can't be involved in."

Her eyes widened, fear made her heart pound. What would happen if he didn't come back? "I'm not waiting. I have to come with you, please!" Her voice was strident.

Jason was taken aback by the ferocity of her reaction. "What's the matter, Carla?" he asked quietly, softly.

She frowned, eyebrows pulled together, eyes frightened. "You might not come back for me."

"Of course I will."

"If you get hurt, you might not be able to!"

"I'm only going to watch. It's not dangerous, Carla."

"Then why can't I come too?"

That stumped Jason. She had a point. The conversation was interrupted by dinner being served, the waitress placing his simple tuna melt down and a large stack of pancakes in front of Carla. Her big, big grin as she looked at her meal made him smile. His smile broadened as she soaked the pancakes in syrup.

That night, despite two beds in the room, Carla slipped into Jason's bed, no T-shirt, just panties, wiggling back into him, pushing close, worming her way between his arms and sighing when he hugged her, comfort and safely. Jason didn't miss either event. He understood her need for security and why she slipped into his bed, not the twin. In fact he liked it. Holding her during the night, having another warm body near, someone to protect, someone who was growing on him day-by-day felt good. He also noted with a smile how she left her T-shirt off. That move perplexed him a bit. Nevertheless, holding her cuddled to him, the skin contact and body heat made it feel more intimate, almost as though she was a daughter. And surprising him, he realized he did care for her. With those thoughts drifting through his mind, and her warmth and amazing addictive girlish scent, Jason drifted to sleep, a deep sleep.

As they slept, Carla's dream of playing with her puppy changed. She was being chased; black threatening wisps, shadows and fog swirling in ambiguous shapes reaching out towards her. Her body twitched, heart pounding as she ran, frightened. The shadows morphed into outlines; a hand reaching for her, then a fat man. She heard whispers, menacing, calling her, threatening. She whimpered. Unconsciously Jason hugged her moving body tighter, pulled her closer as she twitched. Carla grew calm as the faceless man, the one she knew cared for her appeared and swept her into his embrace, holding her, protecting her from the shadows and fog that shrank back from him in fear. She wiggled in the faceless man's arms, burying her face in his neck, nice smell, familiar; safety.

In Jason's sleep, Carla's small buttocks moved as they pressed against his groin. His body reacted, penis engorging, extending, pushing out of his boxers. Slowly the tip pressed against Carla's closed thighs. As she moved in his arms precum lubricated the tip and it slid up the crease, moving to the small gap at her crotch. Carla dreamed of the man kissing her neck. She giggled, it felt good, good. As her body shook, Jason's erection slipped between her thighs, rasping along her panty-clad cleft to emerge in front of her, leaving a trail of precum, warm soft thighs caressing him.

A tingle of pleasure intruded on her dream, waking her. Slowly she became aware of a bulk between her legs. She squeezed them together trying to figure out what it was. Big, warm and hard. She squeezed again trying to identify it. Reaching down, eyes still closed, she felt it with the palm of her hand. Her body jerked suddenly when she realized it was a penis, now large and rigid. Fear tore through her making her body jerk again, memory of pain, hurting, hurting, fat man shoving and grunting.

Jason slept deeply, his body reacting to Carla's movements, her soft thighs clenching in fear, erection throbbing, pulsing. When she jerked and squeezed, more precum leaked out in a bead that smeared on her palm, his hip twitching with her touch, heaviness building, close. When she jerked again, thighs sliding up and down his erection, semen tore up his shaft, spurting out into her hand. Another followed, his erection pulsing, shooting, hot thick semen falling onto Carla's thigh as he hugged her small body tight, eyes twitching behind his eyelids.

Carla froze with fear when she felt hot wetness spurt against her palm and drip onto her thigh, hips twitching behind her, the penis throbbing, pulsing and spurting, hot, wet. She was frozen in place, body rigid, hot semen sliding over her thigh and onto the sheet. When it stopped, and the penis got smaller, Carla breathed. She wasn't being attacked again, thank God. It was Jason holding her, Jason protecting her, safe, she was safe. As fear melted away she became conscious of how wet her hand was. As rational thought returned, she realized Jason had cum, it was his stuff on her hand and leg. How interesting.

Extracting herself from his embrace gently so he didn't wake up, she slipped into the bathroom, closed the door and turned the light on. Sitting on the toilet she inspected her hand and thigh. She knew what semen was but had never seen it. It was whitish, creamy, opalescent, and as she rubbed her fingers together she discovered it was thick and slippery. Bringing her hand to her nose, she sniffed. It reminded her of something, a vague memory of a chemical she thought, but what?

Looking down she saw semen on her thigh, between her legs and a damp line on her panties from where it had spit. She wiped it up with toilet paper and washed her hands, thinking. She knew it was the stuff that made babies, knew it was supposed to go inside her vagina, knew about the birds and the bees. It was sex; what the fat old man was doing to her. Turning the light out, with an extra wad of toilet paper in her hand, she slipped back into bed, wiping Jason's semen off the sheet, tossing the toilet paper under the bed and cuddled back into him, pulling his arms around her.

As she drifted to sleep, she decided it was okay. She knew Jason had had a climax and decided she didn't mind. It wasn't the same as being hurt by the fat man. In fact it felt completely different. She wondered what had made Jason cum and why she felt so different about it. But she liked him. He protected her.

"Jeff, how are you?" Jason asked as he walked into the small convenience store leading Carla by the hand. The store was small, shelves dusty and sparsely stocked. The left side was full of liquor bottles and, behind the scratched wood counter, a large display of cigarettes. It looked dilapidated and unsuccessful, a deceptive appearance given the Mercedes E-Class sedan parked behind the shop, testament to a very lucrative sideline.

Jeff looked up from the newspaper spread on the counter, a smile appearing. "Hey Jason! Long time no see!"

They shook hands over the counter, Jeff nodding to Carla. "Who's the kid?"

"Jeff, meet Carla" Jason said.

Carla was confused. Jason had told her they had preparations to make before he could start, 'necessities' he'd said. Driving for two hours to this dilapidated part of some city, uncollected garbage on the street, stores ratty, he'd refused to answer her questions. She was even more confused by the old Asian man behind the counter, wrinkled face, old, with sparse gray hair sticking out in odd places and old ill-fitting clothes hanging off his spare frame. But he had nice eyes and a nice smile. "Hi," she said shaking his dry, wrinkled hand.

"Need papers, Jeff," Jason said with a nod at Carla.

"Then you'd better come back here," he replied, indicating the back room, pulling the hanging curtain aside.

As they drove back towards the motel, Jason suddenly pulled over. "Wait here a sec, Carla, almost forgot," he told her before getting out. Ten minutes later he returned from the electronics store. As they headed back Jason handed her one of the three disposable cell phones to her and the paper he'd purchased from Jeff.

"Okay, that's your cell phone. I've programmed in my cell number so if we get separated for any reason, you call me. Got that?" he asked seriously.

"Uh-huh." She looked at the small phone in her hand then turned to the piece of paper. It looked official. She read it. 'Certificate of Birth' and 'State of Hawaii' was on the top. As she read the paper she saw her name 'Carla Pitt'. She looked at Jason questioningly, liking his smile.

"It's in case you're stopped or picked up for any reason. You're my daughter."

Something shifted inside her, a feeling, unidentifiable and vaguely unsettling. "I'm your daughter? As in you're my dad?" she asked.

"It's easier this way Carla. This way no one will question why you're with me. You don't mind, do you?"

Her deep blue eyes widened. "You're my dad?" she asked again, that feeling inside growing, unfamiliar, heavy. She turned to look out of the window, not seeing the passing urban sprawl, shops and office buildings sliding by. Her mind was churning. Jason as my dad? Did that mean he'd keep her, she'd be with him forever? Safe? She brushed a lone tear from her cheek, feeling weight in her small chest and pressure behind her eyes. Breathing deeply she fought back more tears. It was only temporary, she tried to convince herself. He'd get rid of her eventually and she'd be alone again.

Late that afternoon, sitting in a cafe by the window sipping apple juice, her mind still distracted by the birth certificate, Jason spoke to her.

"See there?" he said quietly pointing to the entrance to an office building across the street. "That's the man."

Carla looked. Fear shook her making her tremble. It was the driver!

"Come on," Jason said, reaching for her hand. They slipped out of the cafe and, dodging people on the sidewalk, returned to their beaten-up old Camry. "Keep an eye on him so we don't lose him," Jason instructed. He knew he wouldn't lose Rhapsody, but involving Carla in the pursuit would distract her. He'd seen the shiver of fear when she looked at him and a frown appearing between her eyebrows.

For twenty-odd minutes they trailed Rhapsody as he wended his way through Maryland towards Fort Meade. Seeing him pull into a Starbucks on a strip mall and enter, Jason turned to Carla. "Wait right here."

She watched Jason stroll past the driver's car, drop his keys, bend, pick them up and return. "What did you do?" she asked.

Jason grinned. "Here," he offered, handing her the electronic GPS. "We can track him now. I need to find out where he lives. Turn it on there," he said pointing.

Carla became absorbed by the small color LCD display, avidly watching a small red dot move on a street map. She began to tell Jason when it turned, excitement returning to her voice as she became more involved in the pursuit.

Back at the motel, late, dark outside, they looked at the map. "Here," Jason said pointing, "McLean, Virginia. That's where he lives. Tomorrow we'll pay his house a visit," Jason added.

"And do what?" Carla asked.

"Information, Carla. It's all about information. The more we have the better. I need to know how he was involved with Luiz."

"How come you don't just kill him?" she asked seriously.

Jason smiled. "How do we know he doesn't have others working with him?"

"Oh."

That night Carla slowly came awake, late, 2:42 in the morning. She immediately thought of the birth certificate, feeling good, warm. Remembering last night, Jason cumming in her hand, she pushed her bottom back but felt nothing. When she squeezed her buttocks several times, testing, searching, she felt Jason's penis grow, making her grin. It hardened against her thigh before pushing to the sheet. Reaching down between her legs she moved it gently, pulling it between her thighs. Holding it against her panty-covered pussy she felt a small tingle of pleasure, warmth blooming inside her. She closed her thighs, his erection thick between them, and explored the flared tip, a ridge, a mushroom shape, silky, and at the tip a little hole. As she explored, she felt wetness, warm and slippery on the tip. For some reason it excited her and she squeezed her legs together around his thick penis, hips moving slightly stimulating her sensitive clit, his erection pressed against her pussy, rubbing, tingles, arousal! How nice!

When it throbbed, she squeezed her legs together again, this time feeling a twinge of pleasure in her clit. Liking it, she slowly, rhythmically squeezed her legs, hips moving in tiny increments, her palm spreading the slippery stuff around the tip of Jason's erection. This time, when Jason hugged her tighter, she felt his penis get really stiff, swell a bit and semen, hot and thick, spurted into her palm. She smiled as she cupped her hand. His hips twitched and another hot, hot spurt hit her palm. She could feel herself getting horny as he spurted again and again, hot semen filling her hand, finally slowing and stopping.

Aroused, really aroused, Carla slipped from his embrace and, closing the bathroom door quietly, pulled her panties down to her knees, sat on the toilet and, with her cum covered hand, stroked her pussy. Semen made her whole crotch slippery, nice, really nice. Jason's cum was warm and thick and felt good. She let her finger probe into her slit, pushing cum in, slippery. Her body twitched when she caressed her clit, heart rate accelerating. Feeling lower she felt the entrance to her vagina. For the first time in her life she slipped her cum-covered finger inside, hot, soft, tight, good, so good. Her body shook as she played with herself, nipples tingling, clit pulsing. With her head bent, hair falling forward, her finger built a rhythm. Finger sliding through her slit from the top, over her inflamed, sensitive clit, body twitching, down and into her vagina, good, then reverse and start over. With her heart pounding, her vision dimmed and her body jerked hard. She climaxed moaning quietly, hair shaking, body shaking, finger pushed deep, deep, legs snapping together hard as her orgasm tore through her. Pleasure flooded her senses, strong, so incredibly good.

Calm returned. Her heart slowed. Wow.

She washed her hands after regaining her breath, cleaned her crotch, pulled up her panties and slipped back into bed, cuddling up to Jason, her body completely relaxed, warm, muscles calm. Sleep took over as she smiled softly, happy. That was good!

Jason walked into the bathroom the next morning, Carla watching unnoticed and smiling secretly. She liked her cum. She liked Jason. When she remembered the feeling of Jason shooting his hot semen into her hand, for the first time since being rescued she wondered if sex might be nice, especially if it was with Jason. Her hand slipped down to cup her pussy under the covers, feeling herself, remembering last night.

"All yours," Jason said as he left the bathroom, moving to his clothes. He watched Carla slip out of the bed, naked except for cotton panties, white, pink elastic at the waist and legs with a small blue daisy pattern print. He was surprised to see little bumps on her chest, bee stings, areolae raised. He liked watching her run to the bathroom. Her bottom, a childish bottom, seemed to bounce and jiggle inside the cotton. He felt amazingly refreshed and couldn't understand why. Somehow, in some way, Carla sleeping in his bed made his sleep deeper, more relaxed. It was so unusual; he was normally a light sleeper.

When they returned late afternoon, the sun just beginning to dip, Carla was buzzing with excitement. Breaking into the driver's house was fun. "Did you find stuff?" she asked Jason excitedly.

Jason grinned. "Yup." He'd found the floor safe under the hearth, covered and concealed with ash. When he'd inspected the contents a flash of anger went through him. Rhapsody, A.K.A. Bill Benton, Deputy Director of Operations, NSA, was using him. Not only that, he was using him to protect a drug cartel. It infuriated Jason. He'd remonstrated himself all the way back. How the hell had he missed it? But thinking about the jobs he'd done for Rhapsody, among others, he couldn't figure out how he should have known.

Even more disturbing was that if it wasn't for Rhapsody coming after Carla, he probably wouldn't have cared. His life was empty before her, empty of emotion, empty of joy, laughter, frustration; empty of life. He'd been treading water in the middle of an ocean, waiting for nothing with no expectations. Carla had awakened something in him he'd been missing; the simple pleasure of enjoying someone else's company, of liking their smile, their enthusiasm. He was growing fond of Carla, very fond.

"So what do we do next?" Carla asked, interrupting Jason's musings.

"I pay a visit to him tomorrow night," he said, adding when he saw her grin, "Alone, Carla."

"Why?" she asked argumentatively. "Why can't I come, too?"

"Carla, you can't. This once you can't, okay?" He wasn't planning on having her present when he questioned Mr. Bill Benton, Deputy Director of Operations. It wasn't going to be pleasant.

Jason was dreaming, deep asleep, holding someone dear to him, warm and soft, comforting, an amazing scent exciting him. He couldn't see who it was for some reason. But in his dream he knew it was a lady, it had to be. She was caressing him, gently holding his erection, murmuring sweet nothings. In his dream he could feel her hand, warm, soft, her thumb slipping across his crown, hand stroking, his shaft being squeezed, so sensual, so exciting. His erection hardened even more when he hugged the faceless lady. She smelled good, an alluring sexy scent, she felt good in his arms, felt right, perfect. She was special somehow, someone he knew he liked a lot.

When he felt her spread precum on his erection and her hand stroke him, his orgasm stirred, hips moving slightly in encouragement, pushing, silky skin caressing his shaft, soft, warm and deliciously slippery. He felt his testicles tighten, pressure building, and just as he felt the first urgent need to ejaculate, a loud moan woke him. His hips pushed forward, semen tore up his shaft and jetted out before he knew what was happening, pleasure exploding. Opening his eyes he realized he had his erection buried between Carla's thighs from behind. Another uncontrollable pulse shook him, cum spurting out painfully hard, Carla's warm hand holding his aching erection to her crotch, her small body tight against him, her small buttocks in his groin clenching. Shocked, he tore himself away, rolling, falling out of the bed, his erection spurting, throbbing. Deep shame tore through him. How could he? How? How could this have happened? His cum-covered erection withered as he laid on the floor, dazed and confused, feeling terrible, his heart rate elevated, pounding hard in his chest.

"What's wrong, Jason?" a small voice asked.

Looking up at the bed from the floor, two deep blue eyes peered over the edge at him, glinting, twinkling, mussed dark brown hair. "Jesus Carla! I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry."

Jason was in shock. His confusion intensified when Carla grinned. What was she grinning about?

"You made a mess of the bed. I had Kleenex this time but you moved. It's all over the place now," she said quite calmly, grinning. "I think we should sleep in the other bed."

Jason's heart rate jumped. This time? He had done this before?

"Come on," Carla said climbing off the bed, her hand out, eyes staring at his soft wet penis. "You'll have to change your boxers," she said quite casually, adding, "I have to change my panties, too," as she inspected the damp gusset.

Jason didn't move. He couldn't. Shame was still pounding through him. He'd cum! On Carla! God, what had happened? Had he been molesting her in his sleep? Him?

"Jason . . . JASON!" she said forcefully. He seemed to be in shock. It wasn't as though he'd done anything to her. All that had happened was he ejaculated. She grinned remembering rubbing his penis between her legs. It had felt good and if he hadn't jumped out of bed, she was just about to cum.

"Jesus, Carla. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I don't kno . . ."

"Stop already," Carla interrupted. "It's not like I was surprised. Not like the first time . . ."

"What first time? When? What did I do to you?" Jason's voice betrayed the stress he was feeling, tight, slightly raised.

Carla crouched down next to Jason, still laid out on the floor, up on one elbow, his eyes wide. It looked like he was afraid! How come? "You didn't do anything," she said. "The first time I was dreaming and I thought you were the fat man. That's why it scared me at first. When I realized it wasn't, it was sorta nice. But you made a big mess."

Jason stared, flabbergasted. He'd assaulted her! Sorta nice? Big mess?

Carla continued in a calm voice, as though it was the most normal thing in the world, "Then last night I felt you and you got an erection." She grinned and continued, "I was ready though. I got all your cum in my hand so it didn't mess up the bed."

"You . . . You . . ." What the hell was going on? Twice before? He mentally shook himself. Stop! Stop Jason! Think!

Standing, he took Carla's hand. "I think you'd better explain it to me, Carla," he said in a shaking voice, leading her to the bathroom still rattled. "You should clean up."

He stood in the doorway, looking into the bedroom at the cum-stained sheets while Carla calmly explained what had happened, stripping her panties off and wiping her legs and crotch. His shock continued to build as she explained excitedly how she'd cum in the bathroom the second time, his semen making her slippery.

"It's warm, you know," she stated quite calmly. "I was trying to see if I could cum in the bed this time instead of the bathroom," she said, seemingly earnestly. "I was almost there, too, if you hadn't got out of bed."

Jason looked at her sharply at that statement, seeing her standing at the sink, half turned, naked, grinning at him, little bee stings on her otherwise flat chest, small bottom swelling out from her slim back, rounding and curving in to small legs, sexy creases, deep valley separating her buttocks.

Suddenly he realized the inappropriateness of the whole situation. It was confusing. Her reaction, one of innocent acceptance, was so different from his, total shock and shame. Turning, he went to change his damp boxers, heat flushing his face. When Carla calmly walked out of the bathroom naked he turned his face away, but not before he saw her hairless pudendum, surprisingly large and well padded, light from outside adding shape and depth and shadowing a small cleft.

"Are you coming to bed?" Carla asked after putting on clean panties and slipping into the other twin bed.

"I don't think so, Carla. I'll camp out on the chair tonight."

Watching Jason studiously avoid looking at her as he sat in the hard wood chair, she got up and approached him. "Jason?" she asked softly, waiting for him to look at her. "It's okay. Really. I liked it. Actually, it might have been my fault," she admitted, "I wanted to feel you. I was sorta playing with your . . . It was exciting."

She took his hand from his lap, tugging. "Come on. Sleep in the bed. I sleep better when you're there."

Jason stirred awake when sun penetrated the smog smeared window, a shaft of light cast over the bed. On his side, he was holding Carla again in his arms, her face against his chest, soft warm breaths wafting his chest hair, her knee lodged between his legs. His heart rate spiked when he remembered last night. It spiked again when he realized he was holding her petite buttock in his hand. Yanking his hand away woke Carla. She stirred, murmuring, nestled closer, arm blindly reaching for his hand and putting it back on her bottom followed by a little wiggle, a little sigh. She reached around his waist and pulled herself closer.

He didn't move. Heat bloomed inside him, embarrassment and guilt still hounding him.

"Nice," Carla murmured, nestling closer, knee rising between Jason's legs, touching his crotch, her arm pulling his waist. Jason felt good, she thought. His hand on her bottom felt good. Still half asleep, she pushed her pelvis forward, a little shiver of arousal making her nipples tingle when her pussy pushed against the hard muscle of his thigh.

Jason didn't move; didn't dare. Carla felt far too good in his arms, cuddled to him. She smelled far too good; sleepy little girl aroma, seductive, alluring. When her knee touched his testicles, and the thick pad of her pussy pressed against his thigh, he reacted uncontrollably, his penis stirring, thickening. For the first time in his life, he felt the attraction of a little girl, the sexual appeal. It didn't sit well, conflicting with every moral belief he had.

Gently he extracted himself, rose and went to the bathroom, mind working furiously trying to resolve conflicting emotions, his attraction and response to Carla, his self-disgust, her sudden sexiness, his shame. He'd never felt so torn.

Carla stretched and yawned. She was tired not having had a full night's sleep. But she smiled thinking about waking up in Jason's arms. He'd felt so good, big, strong, and he smelled so good, musky, sexy. Her smile grew into a grin as she heard the toilet flush. Jason had started to get an erection this morning; she'd felt it against her tummy. It felt nice. Very exciting.

"All yours," Jason mumbled as he started dressing, avoiding looking at Carla getting out of bed, knowing she was wearing only panties. He felt the tug though, the desire to peek. Frowning, he pulled his T-shirt on, his mind turning to Mr. Bill Benton, Deputy Director of Operations. He had an appointment with him, unannounced. His mind started planning.

At breakfast, Jason watched Carla stuffing her face with French toast, deep blue eyes glistening with pleasure. Denny's black coffee was thin, watery and served in a mug with a thick rim. He liked his coffee strong and served in a mug with a thin rim, served properly so you could sip and enjoy the flavor. Putting his cup down, he laid out the plans for the day.

"Carla, we're going to keep an eye on Benton today. But tonight, you'll have to stay in the room when I visit him." he said.

Carla interrupted him. "Why can't I stay in the car?" She didn't want to be that far away from Jason. What if something happened?

"It's safer for you if you're in the room," he answered.

"No. It isn't," she stated, staring at him intently, fork paused halfway to her mouth, syrup dripping. "It's safer if I'm in the car. If something happens you don't have to come all the way back to the room to get me." Besides, she wanted to be close to him.

He couldn't help grinning. Her logic surprised him. She was sharp, he thought, with a small amount of pride. "Okay. In the car then. But you have to stay in it!"

"Kay," she grinned, stuffing the forkful of French toast in her mouth, satisfied. She'd be with Jason. That's all that mattered.

One-thirty in the morning, dark, cool. Streetlamps cast irregular pools of light on the damp sidewalks of the residential neighborhood, moist from a late rain shower. Jason turned to Carla. "Stay here."

She grinned, a nervous grin.

"Promise me, Carla," Jason demanded, seeing her grin and not trusting her. She'd proven to be headstrong, a distrustful trait when it came to actions like tonight.

With her promise, Jason slipped from the car, dressed in black rubber-soled shoes. He disappeared silently through a thick hedge like a wraith, hardly moving it. Crossing the neighbor's lawn he slipped over the wood fence with a leap and twist, landing on his feet quietly, crouching and studying the back of Mr. Bill Benton's bungalow. Windows were dark. Looking at Bill's bedroom window he was pleased to see no blue flicker of a TV.

Silently he picked the back door Yale lock and then the deadbolt. Checking for the alarm's connection point, he pulled out a length of wire. Easing the door open slightly, he joined the alarm plates with his wire, using chewing gum to hold the ends in place. Slowly he opened the door listening for the beep of the alarm. Silence was all that met him. Like a ghost he slipped in.

Carla was getting worried. Jason had been gone for over an hour. He'd said he'd be less than an hour. Had something happened? Was he hurt? Did something go wrong? She fidgeted in the seat, battling the need to go see with her promise to stay. Minutes seemed like hours and her nervousness grew. She jumped at the occasional sharp bark of a dog. Eventually her worry became too much. Maybe Jason was hurt. Maybe he needed her.

She opened the car door, slipped out and closed it enough for the inside light to go out. Turning, she crept through the dark hedge where Jason had disappeared. Branches rustled loudly as they brushed against her, rough and wet on her bare arms. Emerging from the other side, a lawn spread in front of her and the dark shape of a house with shadowed windows. She screeched when a hand grabbed the scruff of her neck. Twisting, heart pounding, she tried to escape.

"Quiet," Jason whispered. "You promised to stay in the car. What the hell were you doing?"

"I thought . . ." she started, heart pounding.

"Shhh!"

Jason led her to the car. Throwing a large envelope in the back seat, he started the car and pulled away. He asked again, "What were you thinking, Carla? I told you to stay." His heart rate had jumped to ninety-five, the highest all night, when she'd emerged from the hedge.

"I thought you might be hurt," she exclaimed. "You were gone longer than you said!"

"Jesus. Listen Carla, either you follow my instructions or I'll leave you behind. Got that?"

Carla frowned, sulking and slipped down in her seat. "Uh-huh." She crossed her arms.

It wasn't until they were nearing the motel she spoke again. "What did he tell you?" she asked.

Jason's smile was grim. It had been harder than he'd planned to convince Mr. Bill Benton it was in his best interests to talk. In fact, his resistance was admirable. But fingernails were such a painful spot, especially when the hands were taped to the arms of the chair, especially when a long hardened stainless steel needle was employed.

"All we need," he answered Carla. There were two more according the now deceased Deputy Director of Operations; James Carlyle, Senior Assistant, State Department, African Affairs, and Paul Dempsy, Assistant Director, Homeland Security, Border Enforcement.

"I'm glad you're okay," Carla said, reaching across to touch his arm. She'd been worried, really worried.

Jason was surprised at how nice it felt to have someone worry about him. He had to admit he'd been unusually cautious this time. Carla had been a constant presence in the back of his mind. It was responsibility for her, even worry, but more than that; he felt care. It was an odd feeling to have, to want to see someone again, missing her, worrying about her, concerned she might be frightened. Odd but nice he decided.

Back in the room, Jason pulled out papers from the large envelope, turning them slightly to read them in the weak light from his bedside lamp, Carla asleep beside him breathing softly. He studied the details of their drug activity, the agreement to provide Luiz with cover. He noted bank accounts, memorized their numbers, authorization codes and passwords, smiling as he pictured the balances being transferred. Satisfied he had what he needed, he replaced them in the legal-sized envelope, turned the light off and rolled, settling, pulling Carla's small body to him. Her little murmurs as he hugged her made his heart thud pleasantly. With a smile, he let her warmth, her seductive aroma, and rhythmic breathing lull him to sleep.

Dawn was just breaking when he stirred. Carla was turned to face him, breath puffing against his chest gently, her knee wedged between his legs again. His brain registered the glow he was feeling, Carla softly caressing his erection. He repressed his first reaction, the urge to pull away. She was caressing him so gently, his penis hard, straining with her soft touch. It felt good, too good.

Reaching for her shoulder, Jason rolled her on her back, and rising on his elbow, he looked at her face, a sweet face, trusting, deep blue eyes watching him, pretty, soft lips calling. Slowly, watching her lips, he bent, kissed her gently, closed mouth, soft, silky soft lips touching him, his erection straining with the surprising pleasure he felt.

Breaking the kiss, a soft sensuous kiss he found unusually exciting, he caressed her small cheek with his thumb and, looking deeply into her beautiful eyes, seductive eyes, kissed the tip of her nose. "Time to get up," he said, smiling, inhaling her sweet aroma before rolling away.

Jason grinned as he went to the bathroom, "not fair," being muttered behind his back. It made him feel good to hear her complain for some reason.

As the door closed, Carla sighed and flopped back in the bed, her nipples aching, pussy throbbing. Reaching down, she held her pussy over her panties, squeezing, little pulses of pleasure inside as she replayed Jason's kiss, his warm lips, so gentle. He kissed her! Jason kissed her!

Sighing again dreamily she rolled out of bed and dressed, feeling an ache deep in her lower stomach, something restless, gnawing, a need she'd never felt before.

Jason brushed his teeth, erection still strong tenting his boxers. He was replaying waking up, every move, every touch. He'd never experienced anything like it. It was sweet and seductive, innocent and exciting. As he shaved he frowned and swore when he cut himself. God Jason, he admonished himself, you're just as bad as Luiz! But man it was nice.

Mulling his dilemma over, he left the bathroom, Carla giving him a bright, bright smile, eyes gleaming. His pulse spiked again, exceeding a hundred beats per minutes. What the hell was it about her? Why was she so attractive? He returned her smile. In his inner heart he knew he wasn't strong enough to resist her. And realizing that, his smile broadened; he didn't really want to resist her, she was too cute, too attractive, and way too pretty inside and out. He liked her.

Back in the car, windows down to let the cool autumn air in, Carla asked again, "Why are we leaving? I thought you said there were two more."

"There are," Jason replied.

He'd called their offices only to be politely denied, "I'm sorry sir, he's out of town," he'd been told, and probing, had been advised they did not give out information on where or when they'd be back, but if he would like to leave a message. It took Jason three hours to crack the government's travel bureau. James Carlyle, Senior Assistant, State Department, African Affairs had suddenly needed to make a trip to Ghana and Paul Dempsy, Assistant Director, Homeland Security, Border Enforcement had made an unexpected trip to New Mexico.

"So what are we doing here?" Carla asked when they pulled up to Jeff's rundown convenience store.

"Passport, Carla. You need a passport."

Nine hours later and darkness falling, Jason pulled into a motel in Holladay, Arkansas, tired from the drive. Carla had slept the last two hours. He woke her once he had the key. The room was clean, two twins, carpeted, TV bolted securely to the dresser, and a long mirror on the bathroom door. Jason showered, washing the dust and grime collected from the long boring drive, wishing they could travel by air. With his head bent under the showerhead, water washing down his neck and torso, he didn't hear the shower curtain being pulled aside.

His body tensed suddenly, instinctively, at a touch. Knees slightly bent, he twisted, turning fast, arms rising, ready, an automatic reaction. An elbow hit someone. "Ooof," echoed in the bathroom and Carla went flying to the tub floor.

Carla looked up at him, grinning, naked. "Did I scare you?" she asked. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

Jason didn't move, still partially bent at the knees. He stared down at her. Carla had fallen onto her back, legs spread akimbo, knees up, alluring hairless pussy small but filling her groin seductively, rounded lush labia parted slightly, her long clitoral hood nestled in her open cleft that curved down, and below, the shadow of her vagina, the bump of her perineum and dark smudge of her small anus between sexy small rounded buttocks.

His eyes trailed up her body involuntarily, slim hips slightly flared with her knees raised and separated, flat stomach, innie belly button, two bee stings, dark red areolae, tiny, tiny nipples, slim chest. His eyes trailed up further, small neck, dark, dark brown hair dampening under the water and plastered to her face, delicate ears, sweet face, deep blue watchful eyes. He grinned when he saw her grin at him, impish, dimples, completely charming. Beautiful, simply beautiful. Reaching out he offered her his hand to get up. "Sorry."

Carla watched the expressions in Jason's face as she laid in the tub. She was surprised at the suddenness of his movement when he knocked her down. It came out of nowhere and blindingly fast. But his gray eyes widened when he looked at her pussy. The look he had was so different from the fat man, Jason's was a look of wonder, not a dirty leer. His face softened as he looked up her body. She almost felt his look on her, a frank look, interested, sexy. When a grin spread on his sexy mouth she felt her nipples tighten. Suddenly the memory of the last kiss flooded her mind, her pussy tingling.

She let him pull her up, staring at his penis as it thickened. She'd never seen a penis become erect and it was fascinating. It seemed to grow wider and lengthen, inflating slightly, the tip moving away from his balls. She stared at the mushroom-shaped head, remembering how it had felt in her hand. She looked at the thick pubic hair flattened by water wondering what it might be like to run her fingers though when it was dry. Her eyes traced up as she stood, flat hard stomach, a dusting of dark hair on his chest, water running through it creating small paths that exposed his skin underneath. Turning her head up, she looked at him, grinning at him.

"I like that you're not fat," she said. His smile sent shivers through her, an ache deep inside her lower stomach returned when he bent and cupped her chin. She watched him bend over, watched sexy lips get closer.

He felt his erection begin when she studied him. God but she was a cute girl. The simple honesty in her assessing look and the playfulness in her charming eyes sent a pulse of pleasure and desire through him, desire he couldn't understand, nor did he care to. Turning her small face up, he bent slowly, watching her eyes widen when he leaned down and kissed her, kissed her gently with lips closed, soft lips, small lips against his. His erection rose, poking her in her chest. He trembled when her small hand gently held his erection, feeling himself strain and throb at her delicate, almost hesitant touch.

Leaning down further, Jason cupped her petite bottom, his hand covering each delectable cheek, and lifted her. Her legs spread around him, heels hooking behind, her arms reaching up to circle his neck. She felt so good in his arms, sweet and petite and arousing, her naked skin like silk against him. He stared into her deep blue eyes enchanted by them. His erection flexed.

Carla was the first to move as they looked at each other, pulling herself nearer, small head tilting slightly in a remarkably sexy move, lips, soft little lips touching his. It was a sweet little kiss he felt to his toes. Carla was the first to move again, a tiny hot tongue touching his lips. His defenses crumbled. Jason groaned at the touch and pulled her tighter, his mouth opening, amazed at how sexy she was, how turned on he was at French kissing this little girl.

When their tongues touched hesitantly, tips caressing lightly, Jason became aware of his fingertips. They were nestled between her pussy and thighs. He carefully stroked her little cleft. His erection strained again at the touch, hard and pulsing. Carla gasped into his mouth when he explored, tracing her open cleft, feeling the bump of her clitoris. Her tongue became more insistent when he caressed her clit and soon, all too soon their kiss intensified, tongues sensuously exploring each other's mouth, sucking gently, breath huffing through noses as passion increased.

Carla started moving her body, hips pushing, arms gripping his neck as she tried to increase the pressure against her clit, sparks of pleasure bombarding her. When Jason rubbed the bead of her clitoris harder, Carla broke the kiss, head falling to his shoulder, panting, body trembling, hips moving back and forth, excited, aroused, so aroused; unable to control the deep, deep need inside. Suddenly, when his fingertip probed the opening to her vagina, she gasped and froze. He caressed her sensitive clit and her body reacted. She hugged his neck hard and her hips started jerking back and forth to little mewls as she climaxed, pleasure slamming into her, her slim legs clutching, buttocks clenching. She came, hips hunching, small squeaks emitted until she collapsed against Jason, hot breaths on his neck, soft sighs in his ear, her little heart pounding, so good.

Jason smiled. His erection was painful, straining and hard. He'd never enjoyed a female's climax so much. There was something so intense yet innocent about Carla's climax. Without washing, he turned the shower off and stepped out, holding Carla to him.

"Need to dry," he said softly bending to put her down. She gripped his neck harder, refusing to let go, legs holding tight around him, murmuring softly in his neck. Smiling, surprisingly pleased that she didn't want to let him go, Jason held her with one arm and as best he could dried them both off before carrying her to bed. They slipped naked between the sheets, Carla with a determined grip on his neck. On his back, she slipped to the side, nestled against him and fell asleep, small soft breaths, peaceful, knee over his thigh, pussy pressed against him, arm draped across his chest, a sense of pure pleasure filling him. Eventually Jason's erection subsided and he too slipped into sleep, deep sleep, the sexy aroma of a sleeping little girl comforting him.

Jason's eyes shot open. Something had disturbed him in his sleep, an unnatural noise, something that stood out, unusual, different. Listening intently he slipped from Carla's side, reaching down to pull on underwear and jeans. Moving stealthily he approached the small window looking out cautiously. The parking lot was deserted, three parked cars and one van seen in the flicker of a dying lamp post bulb. Everything seemed normal; an occasional car or truck passing on the highway, bright headlights illuminating the road, red taillights fading away. Motel signs across the highway blinked out their vacancies in garish neon. Everything seemed normal but Jason felt something. There was something amiss.

He stood absolutely still, watching, studying, seeking the anomaly that had wakened him. Two hours later predawn light glowed in the East revealing details outside. Everything seemed normal but Jason couldn't shake the feeling all was not right.

Turning, he packed quickly. "Carla," he called quietly. "Carla! Wake up. We have to move. Now."

She groaned and opened her mouth to complain until she saw Jason's face. He was serious, gray eyes dark. Jumping out of bed, she dressed. Packed, they left the motel, 4:45 am. For the next two hours Jason drove a meandering route studying all the vehicles around him. Carla sat quietly, Jason's intense concentration keeping her from disturbing him with questions that bombarded her. Satisfied, he turned onto a side road and pulled over. He thoroughly, methodically inspected the car starting from the inside and moving to the exterior. Under the rear bumper he found it; small, two inches square with a magnetic attachment. He resisted the urge to remove it. Knowing where an enemy would be was invaluable. No one got a second chance.

At noon they stopped for lunch at a roadside diner, hungry from a missed breakfast. Jason was relaxed. It had been close and he still couldn't figure out how they had found him. Then he remembered and kicked himself, the phone calls! He'd used a land line at the motel unthinkingly. Damn Jason, that was stupid. Carla was distracting him.

"Why did we have to leave so suddenly?" Carla asked finally, the intrigue too much for her. Besides, Jason looked relaxed again as he ate a club sandwich.

"We're being tracked," he responded, watching her stir a fry in the ketchup, inspect it carefully before biting half, her hand automatically stirring the remaining half in the ketchup. He'd noticed it before. Carla had a very specific approach to eating fries. Each had to be stirred in the ketchup, inspected closely - he assumed to ensure there was enough on it - and then she'd bite it quickly as though it might run and hide on her. He found it cute.

Before taking a bite of her grilled cheese, she asked, "Who is it? Do you know?" She felt no fear with the news; probably because that driver that had taken her to the estate was dead, and besides, Jason would protect her. Of that she was absolutely sure.

"I have no idea who it is," Jason said, his eyes turned to observe the passing traffic outside.

The scenery slowly changed as they crossed into New Mexico. The ground became arid, brownish red; hills lost their dense tree covering. Jason had kept to side roads and as the sun set he looked for a motel, a specific motel that would suit his needs.

An hour later he found it.

Tired, he dropped their bags on the floor. It was another seedy room and he was getting tired of staying in them. The room smelled of stale cigarettes, the bed sagged in the middle, and covers hung limply. An ancient cathode tube TV with dials sat forlornly on the blue painted dresser, one drawer warped and partially open. Limp, grimy curtains didn't fully close. It was hot.

Banging the window air conditioner to get it wheezing, he decided he'd had enough. He had to finish this soon. "Carla, you ready?" he called out.

Her muffled answer came from the bathroom. "Hold your horses. I'm almost done. Jeez."

She emerged, fully dressed and picked up two sweaters as Jason messed with the bed. He led her to the back window, opened it, pushed the screen out and lifted her. He let her down gently before following her and climbing through.

Sitting in the dense undergrowth thirty yards behind the motel, Carla wondered how Jason could sit so quietly; he didn't even move a muscle and she kept on swatting bugs away, fidgeted when her butt went numb. "How much longer?" she whispered.

"Shhh."

Jason watched from inside the tree line, ears probing, waiting, eyes well adjusted to the night. They would come. He grew accustomed to the sounds of nature and, at 1:36 am he heard it; an unnatural rustling off to his right, perhaps a hundred yards. He heard the feint sound of a twig snap to his left. Leaning close to Carla, he whispered in her ear, "Lie down, keep absolutely quiet just as we talked about." He felt her nod before she curled up and rolled over. She heard nothing as Jason slipped away.

Silently Jason moved, feet testing each step, avoiding twigs and leaves. He moved to his right, ears seeking as he pulled a garrote from his back pocket. Seventy-five yards later he heard a light snap of a twig. Circling the spot he approached stealthily from behind. He smiled a grim smile. How stupid could they be, the small lights from the motel clearly outlined a large man crouched, gun in one hand, long snout of the silencer easily seen. Moving slowly at first, Jason exploded into action, a thin steel wire whipped over a head and around a meaty neck. Before the man could react, the steel was pulled taut, so tight no sound could escape the struggling man. With a knee at his back Jason tightened the garrote, steel wire biting into flesh, blood oozing. With a hard jerk, powerful arms pulling apart, the trachea was severed, a sigh of escaping air all that was heard as the body twitched in post death spasms.

Moving quickly but silently Jason retraced his steps, moving to the left. Four minutes later another body lay on the ground, blood being absorbed by the dirt. Jason's heart rate had spiked to 95 beats per minute, barely noticeable.

Back in the car, Jason drove through the night having placed the tracking device next to one of the bodies; a message, 'you fuck with me, you die'. As dawn crept nearer, with Carla sleeping in the passenger seat, he spotted a Howard Johnson Inn. Twenty minutes later he carried Carla's small sleeping form into the large room and put her on one of the queen sized beds.

She was awake when he finished his shower, exiting the bathroom naked while drying his hair. Yawning, she climbed out of bed. "My turn," she mumbled.

Jason was just drifting to sleep when Carla climbed into bed naked and cuddled up to him smelling fresh, soap and shampoo perfumes filling the air. When she cuddled, she threw her knee over his leg, arm on his chest, soft damp hair in the crook of his shoulder. She scooted closer, warm and soft, silky skin touching his side. He felt her pubic bone press into him, felt her hand playing with his chest hair, touching his nipples lightly. A shiver went through him when her hand trailed down his stomach, fingertips slipping into his pubic hair, his penis stirring.

Reaching down Jason cupped her sweet bare little buttock, soft and pliable in its relaxed state, his fingertips lightly running along her valley as he explored and caressed the sexy curves of her young bum. His penis twitched, grew, lengthened and rose from between his thighs. Carla's small hot hand slipped down to rest on it. It pulsed when small fingers curled and held it, her soft hand holding his shaft and pulling it up to lie rigid on his stomach. It pulsed again when she stroked the underside with her palm, moving from the base to the tip slowly and back again. It pulsed strongly when Carla's fingers curled to hold him in a soft grip. He couldn't believe how aroused he was, that it was Carla, a nine-year-old making him so, so excited. When she gently held his testicles he felt precum leak out, his erection throbbing, his desire for her becoming feverish, surprising him. Yet it felt good, she was such a sexy little thing.

Rolling onto his side he pushed Carla back and rose onto his elbow leaning over her, studying her deep blue eyes that watched him intently. "This isn't right, you know," he said softly, his thumb caressing her cheek.

Carla smiled. She liked the intent look in Jason's eyes. She liked how he let her touch and explore him without saying or demanding anything. She liked the brightness in his sexy gray eyes that said he liked her. She could see it and she felt little tremors inside, an ache deep in her lower stomach, something restless and gnawing, a need growing. She studied his handsome lean face, her knight in shining armor. She wanted him to banish the evil memory that hung like a ghost in the back of her mind, the fat man, repulsive, lurid, looming over her, slapping her, hurting her. When she looked at Jason her heart thumped; she felt need.

Reaching up, she touched his face. "I don't care. I want to," she said softly, a bright smile growing when he sighed and leaned down. She watched his sexy lips until she lost sight of them, her vision filled with soft gray eyes.

Jason melted, all worries vanishing when he bent down and kissed Carla, small soft lips touching his. He watched her eyes close and her arms reached up to wrap around his neck and hug. His hand rested across her warm silky stomach. Sparks of arousal hit him when the tip of her tongue caressed his lips. He opened his mouth and touched her soft tongue, his hand moving, gently gliding up her body. She pushed her tongue at his mouth when his thumb touched the tiny breast bud forming on her small chest, feeling the hard bead of a miniature nipple.

Carla's tongue entered his mouth urgently when he caressed her tiny breast, massaging the mound gently, feeling the firm pad developing under her areola. Her hands pulled at him, a small moan escaping, her back arching up. Heat suffused her. Her pussy tingled. An ache emerged.

Breaking the kiss, Jason moved down, kissing her chin before closing his mouth around her little nub, sucking gently, teasing and caressing with his tongue. Carla's fingers combed through his hair, her breath now audible, deep, and breathing faster. He could feel the patter of her heart through his lips. Her arousal excited him.

Moving to kiss her other breast bud, his fingertips reached down and explored her mons, a sensual sweeping rise from her tummy. Slipping his hand up and over, he cupped her startlingly small, plump pussy, a sexy mound that filled the gap between slender thighs so beautifully, perfectly hairless, soft and warm. He felt her part her legs giving him permission to explore her most private place. His erection flexed. Beads of precum oozed from the tip when he traced the deep crevasses at each side of her sexy little pussy before touching her cleft, tightly closed, curving seductively into her groin. With light fingertip pressure he followed her sensual slit, felt the tiny bump of her clitoris nestled between thick labia and lower, moisture, Carla's arousal, warm and silky on his finger. A deep shudder shook him. She was so sexy, so adorable, so damned desirable.

He kissed her again, his tongue probing when she tilted her head and opened her mouth wide in invitation, her small hands holding his neck and pulling gently. She moaned deeply when he drew her moisture up, spreading it along her closed little cleft. Pushing harder, soft, silky soft labia parted to hug his fingertip in a warm grip. His heart rate jumped to over one hundred.

Carla inhaled sharply when he caressed her clitoris, slippery from her own lubrication. Her hips curled up when his finger slipped down into her slit to touch her entrance. She used her hands, pulling his neck harder and kissing more urgently to signal her need. Deep inside her she felt an ache that yearned to be touched.

With infinite care, Jason probed the tiny entrance to her vagina, silky soft, slippery, hot. He groaned deeply when his fingertip, just the tip to the first knuckle, slipped into her. She was tight and soft, velvety soft. Pushing gently, probing, testing, his finger gradually slipped into her, sensual hot wetness surrounding his probing finger in a snug grip.

Carla's hips curled up, urgent, wanting more, wanting him deeper, a gnawing need deep inside. She pulled Jason's face away from her. Her body was shaking, need tearing through her and making her pant. His finger excited her so much. It felt so good she wanted more. She wanted Jason inside, filling her, stretching her. "Please," she asked softly, intensely aroused, her nipples aching, pussy pulsing with arousal, "can you put it in?"

Her heart rate spiked when Jason smiled, soft, so sexy, and moved over her, slipping between her legs as she opened them wide, hunger and need filling her, desperation rising. He seemed so big looming above her. A brief tremor of fear pulsed through her until she studied him. He had no fat belly, no hairy shoulders, no bad breath, no ugly leer, no violence. Just Jason, my Jason. Her arms reached for him.

Jason's heart rate exceeded one-twenty as he looked down on Carla, her trusting blue eyes encouraging him. She looked so sweet and sexy, her legs spread, cleft open, her hairless mound so sensual, petite and arousing. Holding himself on one straight arm he reached for his erection, hard, stiff and painful with his need. Looking down he watched the glistening wet tip touch Carla's delicate pussy, her thick rounded labia flattening against the large flared crown. Shudders shook his body from the feel of her soft pussy against his aching erection and the strain of holding himself above her. His erection looked so big next to her plump young pussy, so big compared to her short cleft, so big between her slender thighs. Pushing gently his eyes were riveted to her little pussy as labia stretched and unfurled over his crown, silky soft warmth spreading, labia hugging, welcoming him.

Beads of sweat popped out on his brow when he felt her entrance, an impossibly tiny opening. His erection throbbed painfully, clear precum oozing and lubricating.

Carla's small hands tugged his shoulders, pulling. "Please?" she whispered, almost pleading, need now thrumming through her body.

Moaning quietly, Jason succumbed to the intense desire and let his body down, resting lightly on her small form, her head reaching mid chest.

Slipping to the side, half on her small body, he held slender hips, small delicate hips. Moving his hands down further he slipped them under her seductive little bottom, his fingertips touching her pussy. He pulled her labia apart slightly, inhaled, and pushed his achingly hard erection tentatively, slowly. Excitement surged when he felt her little vagina stretch, yielding to him slightly. Backing off to spread lubrication, he pushed again. The sensation that bombarded him was exquisite. Carla's nine-year-old pussy stretched and oozed tightly over his thick crown. With a popping sensation he was in. He was penetrating her, her vagina gripping him tightly, so tightly he thought he could feel his blood pulsing in it.

Carla hadn't gasped in pain, just inhaled sharply. For a few agonizing moments neither moved, just the crown penetrating her small body.

Her slender legs moved up, heels on the back of his thighs pulling, her small arms hugging his chest. A small pleading whisper broke the silence, "Can you go deeper?" And when Carla curled her pelvis up, he gasped loudly. He'd never felt anything like it. His erection slipped into her, her soft internal walls parting, a silky, snug, warm sheath enveloping him in a smooth slow penetration, slipping painlessly deeper and deeper, his erection pulsing with the exquisite tightness.

Carla moaned. Jason's erection was stretching her so much and going so deep. She felt tight and stuffed to bursting, so full. Her body was thrumming with need, deeper, the gnawing ache there, there, god yes! There! "Uh!" she moaned when his penis pushed against the aching spot, her pussy pulsing. She loved how full she felt.

Jason felt his erection touch her deepest part, four inches in, held tight in paradise. Her moan of pleasure sparked his, his penis swelling in her tight grip. Holding her petite buttocks he withdrew slowly, silky walls caressing him. He felt every millimeter of her vagina gripping him, trying desperately to hold him in.

"No," Carla moaned quietly, her heels pulling desperately. "Put it back," she pleaded feeling empty.

Reversing, Jason slid into heaven, deep, all the way. Breath exploded from Carla when she shoved her pelvis up and he filled her suddenly, completely, even deeper than before, good, good. A rhythm started, long slow withdrawal, heels pulling, long slow exquisite penetration, long slow withdrawal, heels tugging, gliding in, her tight sheath clasping, deep, deep, so snug.

Carla's eyes closed, her heart pounding, feeling dizzy, the sweet ache inside being massaged, rubbed, deep inside, so good. Shudders shook her when her clit dipped to rub on Jason's shaft, pressure in her chest growing, pressure needing to escape, God so close. Suddenly, when she pulled Jason hard with her heels, when he penetrated her faster and deeper than before, completely filling her, gloriously stretching her, she felt a beautiful spark of exquisite pain and her climax exploded. Pleasure burst inside as her hips heaved off the bed, she cried out in joy, pure bliss shaking her. Jason! She held him tight, her body shaking uncontrollably as her climax overwhelmed her.

Jason had never enjoyed a climax as much as he did Carla's. She came hard with complete abandon, body shoving against him while she held on for dear life. He could feel her body tremors though his erection, her snug vagina gripping rhythmically and her sweet little buttocks clenching as she whimpered and moaned. It was such a sensual sound, a little girl climaxing. It was too much, way too good. With a flash of pure bliss, he thrust, buried his aching erection deep inside Carla and came hard, semen tearing up his swelling shaft and exploding out into her, his body freezing, pleasure thundering in. With a deep groan, he pulled back and shoved deep again, body frozen as a larger spurt erupted into her tight little vagina, hot wetness flooding his crown. Suddenly he was stroking into her in short urgent strokes, powerful spurts of semen on every thrust, shoving, spurting, exquisite pleasure bombarding him. He came hard, painfully hard, heart racing, climaxing hard, straining, spurting, oh God cumming, cumming.

"Can I see?" Carla asked, on her front next to Jason. She'd held on to him all day, needing to touch him, needing him near. All she could think about was how good he was, how incredible he'd made her feel, how hard she'd cum. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. She'd even felt him cumming too, his penis swelling inside her, stretching her more, hot wetness filling her right at the spot that ached, the one deep inside. And afterwards he'd held her so gently, giving her small kisses and cuddling her. It felt like he wanted her closer than she could physically be, and it felt so good. She didn't even mind how his semen leaked out of her and made a wet spot under her on the bed; it felt okay for some reason, even nice; Jason's semen inside her excited her. And best of all, she slept deeply, no dark shadows haunting her dreams of playing with a puppy, Jason with her.

"Here," he whispered, moving slightly to let Carla peer through the Zeiss scope. He shifted slightly to look through a gap between the boulders and down the hill. Mr. Paul Dempsy, Assistant Director, Homeland Security, Border Enforcement, was inspecting the Mexican side of the border, six hundred and forty-two yards away inside a police outpost. Carla's false passport had worked perfectly, no holdups. His rented Jeep was behind them hidden from sight. It would take fifteen minutes to hit the busy highway and get lost amongst the traffic.

"I don't see him," Carla whispered.

"He's inside. Here, let me. Absolute quiet now, okay? Remember, slide back and get to the Jeep, no standing."

A gray eye peered through the Zeiss high-optic scope. His heart rate slowed and settled, seventy beats per minute, breathing slowed and he recalculated the trajectory, estimating the wind velocity, humidity, air density. Satisfied with his calculations, he waited, not one muscle moving. He waited. His heart rate dropped to sixty-five beats per minute, breathing slowly, body still, utterly still. His finger curled on the trigger.

Twenty-three minutes later, a painfully thin, late middle-aged man with a hawkish nose, thin mouth, watery brown eyes and a slightly stooped stance typical of tall people emerged from the outward opening door, partially turning to talk to someone behind. The custom made jacketed steel bullet exploded from the barrel at over 5,000 feet per second, propelled by an especially large load of powder. Gravity and wind resistance slowly acted, the bullet's speed dropping as it slowed. Its trajectory followed a calculated arc, gravity tugging, wind moving it slightly to the right. Less than a second after leaving the rifle barrel it hit, still traveling at eight times the speed of sound. A head exploded like a ripe watermelon in a brilliant spurt of red, splattering against the open door. As the lifeless body collapsed, the loud echo of a rifle shot was heard. Mexican guards tumbled out of the building, pulling pistols out, looking around, searching warily for the source of the shot, yelling, excited.

Unseen, two figures slithered back down a hill six hundred and forty-two yards away. Before the police could organize themselves it was too late. The Jeep merged with heavy traffic making for the US border.

In a small motel in Radium Springs, just north of Las Cruces, Mr. Pitt and daughter registered for one night. Key in hand, they strolled down the street in the slanting late afternoon sunlight. The daughter held her father's hand tight, staying close, face turning to look at him frequently, adoration in her eyes.

"So how do you like Mexican food?" Jason asked as they sat in a Cantina, Carla taking a tentative bite of a Burrito, her pretty blue eyes suspicious.

Chewing slowly and carefully, testing the texture and taste, she swallowed. A big grin lit her face, deep blue eyes sparkling, dimples forming. "Good!" she exclaimed and immediately took another big bite.

Jason's hand paused midway from his plate, staring at Carla. He'd felt something stir deep inside when she'd grinned and was puzzled, trying to figure out what it was. Unable to identify it, he continued eating, enjoying Carla's enthusiasm and the food on her cheeks.

She mumbled again, mouth full, "Good, really good."

Jason smiled at her bright expression, her eyes charming him. "You already told me. It's that good, huh?"

Carla grinned, swallowed and wiped her cheeks and mouth with a napkin. Taking a loud slurp of Coke, she grinned again. "No. Last night. Last night was gooood." Another large bite of the burrito was consumed as she reached for the rice with a fork.

Jason was amazed how her simple comment could arouse him, his penis erecting inside his jeans. He didn't understand it. He didn't understand why he didn't feel bad, or guilty. The fact that Carla could stir emotions in him was puzzling, too. Yet she did; feelings that had been missing for so long - too long. He also didn't know when he'd decided to let her stay with him. But at some point in the last four weeks he had unconsciously made that decision and it made him feel good. Having Carla with him was giving him purpose, giving him a life worth waking up to. She was a cute little rascal, and sexy too.

"So where to next?" Carla asked as she finished her burrito. Something was odd with Jason. He was looking at her funny. At first she thought it was because she had food on her face, but even after cleaning it he still had that weird look. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Huh? Nothing," Jason said, mentally shaking himself. "We can go anywhere you want. We have to wait for James Carlyle to return to the States. Anywhere you'd like to go?" he asked with a smile.

Carla pondered. Her problem was she didn't know anywhere in America. No doubt there were lots of things to see, but what? She stared at Jason as she thought, liking his smile, his gray eyes bright and animated, his sexy mouth. "Anywhere is okay," she said, adding, "as long as it's with you . . . Dad." She grinned cheekily.

Jason's heart rate spiked. He had that unidentifiable feeling back, deep inside. It bothered him. He just couldn't figure it out. With a smile he suggested Washington DC, near enough for him to welcome Mr. Carlyle back to the States.

The sun was setting when they returned to their motel room, a surprisingly clean and neat room. Both beds had bright-colored bedspreads, the furniture was clean, reasonably new, bathroom sparkling. It was very different from the previous rooms.

There was no questioning or hesitation on either's side. They both undressed and showered together. Jason took extreme delight at watching Carla's face; it telegraphed her thoughts so well, smiling when she washed his butt, grinning when she washed his stomach, amusement when he grew erect from her soapy hands, and mischief emerging when she deliberately slowed, her washing turning into stroking, her eyes sparkling with delight.

He watched her face grin when he soaped her chest, the grin fade when he caressed her tiny breasts, not quite the size of half-grapes. He watched her giggle when he washed her sides, dwelling at her waist. He watched her smile seductively when his hand slipped over her tummy towards her plump little pussy and laugh when he washed her thighs, avoiding her pussy with a grin of his own. He found himself having an inordinate amount of fun with Carla in the shower. She was a pure delight.

Jason couldn't resist slapping her sexy bottom when they left the bathroom, delighted with her giggles as she dived onto the bed. For the briefest moment Carla was on her front before she scrambled under the covers. In that instant he noted with great interest how round and pert her bottom was. It seemed to rise majestically from her lower back, swoop up and separate into twin globes that curved down seductively to meet slender thighs and forming sexy little creases where they joined. Not only that, but the sight of the crease between her lovely buttocks disappearing into the shadow between her legs brought an immediate physical response.

Smiling, he slipped into bed on his back. Carla immediately assaulted him, throwing her leg over his thigh, grabbing his hand and placing it on her buttock, and climbing half on him, deep blue eyes peering at him from his chest, accompanied by a dimpled grin. He really enjoyed watching her animated face, mischief appearing as she slowly rubbed her sexy mound against him, staring at him intently.

"So whatcha wanna do?" she asked impishly with a rub of her pussy on his thigh.

He smiled, particularly enjoying the play of the muscle in her buttock as it flexed, firm with an indent in the side when she hunched her pussy against him, silky soft and malleable when she relaxed. Her small buttock fit his hand perfectly. Gently he added pressure, encouraging her, pushing when she hunched. The grin on her face subsided and eyes lost focus when he traced her deep valley, fingertips slipping between seductive little buttocks. Shifting slightly he reached down further, fingertip sliding across her anus, across her perineum, and touching moisture, Carla's arousal.

At his touch, Carla laid her face on Jason's chest, feeling his chest hair on her cheek, little tremors of pleasure flitting through her as he gently rubbed the entrance to her vagina. She'd thought his big hand had felt so good on her bottom, but this was even better. Using her hips she moved slowly, feeling his fingertip slip deeper. She shuddered lightly when his finger entered her, just the tip, her clit throbbing. That need deep inside started coming back, an urge, a spot that ached. Now she knew how to ease it. She needed Jason inside her, deep inside her.

Groaning with passion, desire and urges, she moved, slipping up over Jason's big body, his chest rubbing her aching nipples, her legs spreading wide to his sides. She felt his erection under her mound and rubbed against it, little sparks of pleasure. Lifting her bottom she reached down between them. Carla felt for his penis and gripped it. She felt slippery wetness at the tip, felt it throb in her hand exciting her, Jason wanted her. It seemed so thick, the thought sending a surge of need through her. She wanted it inside her, stretching her, touching that ache deep in her, and making her feel good. Holding it firmly, Jason's big hands on her bottom, she slid up slightly, pushed the big tip of his erection through her pussy, moaning when it scraped over her sensitive clit and spread her slit open; big, he was big. Nestling the big tip to her vagina, she pushed back, breath huffing as she felt herself begin to stretch. Her pussy seemed to stretch forever, wider, wider, and still she stretched. Just as an exquisite twinge of pain appeared, she felt him slip inside, pressure abating. Yes, Jason was in, so good.

Carla pushed back slightly feeling him make almost no progress. With her knees, she pulled herself up a bit and then back, moaning when she felt Jason's erection slip in a bit more. She did it again getting two delicious inches in, feeling stretched, really stretched, so good. On the third move something seemed to give inside her. Suddenly she felt his erection glide smoothly, silkily, deep into her, filling her, filling her. He was close, so close to that spot. She had an urgent need driving her. Pulling up she pushed back. "Uh," she gasped when the tip of his penis thumped against the ache.

Her eyes slowly closed, cheek on Jason's chest, her breath huffing. He was there, deep, deep inside, right at the ache and it felt so good, so stuffed, so full, exciting. She loved feeling his penis throbbing rhythmically. Testing, she bore down, squeezing her vagina, delighted with Jason's groan. He was so big, so deliciously big. Carla would have been happy to stay like that, Jason's erection buried inside her, even sleep like that. It felt so comforting having him inside, like he was a part of her. She squeezed her vagina again and giggled when Jason's hands on her bottom gripped her. His moan sounded like he was in agony.

It was sexy, arousing and fun. She was discovering new sensations and each of them was great. She wondered how much she could tease Jason, a grin appearing. Reaching up she slipped her arms around his neck. He was too far away to kiss. Feeling naughty, she started squeezing her vagina and relaxing, slowly. Squeeze, relax, and pause, waiting for a reaction. Another giggle escaped when Jason's erection swelled inside her pussy, his hips twitched, filling her more, really stretching her. This was fun. Squeeze, relax, pause. Jason groaned. She smiled. Squeeze, relax, pause. Jason's erection throbbed. Grinning she did it again. Squeeze, relax, pause, her clitoris tingling like mad, heart pounding. Squeeze, relax, squeeze, relax, pause, clitoris pulsing, nice. When she squeezed again Jason muttered, "Enough!"

Carla laughed when he grabbed her bottom hard and rolled her over. Her laughter died when she felt him withdraw almost completely, feeling empty, empty. Air burst from her lungs when he shoved himself in, filling her, hitting the spot that ached, that needed to be massaged.

Holding his neck, she let herself go, pleasure bursting inside every time Jason's penis rubbed her clit, his erection deep, penetrating her deep. She felt her climax stir and, hooking her feet around his thighs, curling her hips up, sparks of pleasure and pain struck her when his erection thumped into her end hard. Sweat gathered between them, Jason's hands now holding her shoulders, pulling. He thrust into her hard. Carla cried out, exquisite pleasure exploding, climaxing intensely as Jason thrust over and over. She barely heard him grunt, but at the height of her climax she felt Jason cum, hot wetness exploding inside her. She hung on for dear life as Jason thrust and spurted semen over and over, her climax making her twitch and jerk. Darkness crept in, her universe narrowing to Jason's thrusting, pulsing penis, hot semen filling her, filling her. Crying out weakly, she collapsed, exhausted, completely exhausted, heart pounding a mile a minute, body twitching as Jason spurted the last of his climax. Peace descended, peace, calm, euphoria.

She murmured when Jason collected her in his strong arms and fell asleep, smiling when she felt his semen gush out, warm on her thigh. Jason, my Jason.

It hit Jason when they were walking through the Washington Zoo two days later. Understanding blossomed inside him. It was Carla, holding his hand, tugging, grinning at him, "The Panda Bears are this way! Come on, Dad!"

In an instant he understood what that unidentifiable feeling was, something he'd never experienced before. It was love. And it scared the hell out of him, his heart racing. He blindly let Carla lead him while he felt sweat in his armpits, his body flushed, hot. He nodded at her enthusiasm over the Pandas playing, smiling weakly, feeling panic rise. He'd never felt love and, if this was it, he wasn't sure he liked it either.

Feeling someone else was more important than him, suddenly worried about that person, and terrified something might happen to them was not pleasant. No, not pleasant at all. It was a complication. It made life difficult. Damn and he'd have to worry about her schooling; shit, her health too. All-in-all Jason was not feeling happy.

It wasn't until they were leaving the zoo and Carla gave him a big hug, kissed him on his cheek and thanked him, eyes shining bright with happiness, that he saw the other side of love. The side of warmth and companionship, of a friend you could relax around totally, a person to hold you, comfort you - someone who loved you unconditionally. Someone to trust, completely trust. Someone to love. Huh.

"What's the matter?" Carla asked as they walked through the parking lot. Jason seemed wrong, off somehow, almost bemused.

"Oh, nothing. Hungry?"

"What's the matter?" she asked again, worry beginning. Was he going to dump her somewhere?

"Honestly Carla, nothing," Jason answered, still preoccupied.

"Jason!" Carla said loudly, now worried. She pulled her hand from his and stopped walking. A frown appeared. He wasn't telling her the truth. What was he hiding? What was he going to do with her? It just wasn't fair! She'd been so happy.

The way she said his name spoke volumes to Jason. Turning sharply he looked into a face that was fearful, frowning and on the edge of tears. So damned cute! Grinning, he swept her up into his arms. "Dope," he said. "I was just thinking."

Somewhat mollified Carla asked, "What about?" and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her towards the car.

"School. I need to enroll you in school. You need an education, you know."

She sat quietly in the car thinking about what Jason had said as they headed out of Washington back to the motel. What did he mean school? Like away? Somewhere else? Away from him? Or did he mean school as in living with him? Where? He didn't have a house, so it couldn't be that.

Jason wondered why she was so quiet. "What's up squirt?" he asked with a grin.

"I don't want to go to school," she answered grumpily. "Don't need it."

"Well, need it or not, as soon as we rebuild our log cabin, you're going to school. And that's that." He watched it sink in, his heart thumping as her frown cleared, her eyes sparkling and a stunning smile growing, dimples emerging. Yes, he thought, there was an upside to this love thing. It was that, sitting right there in the passenger seat.

"You mean . . .?"

"Sure, why not? I mean who else would take you in? You're not the most obedient kid, you know. In fact you can be a bit of a handful. Actually," he added with a big grin, "two handfuls. Nice bum."

Carla squealed in delight and tried to launch herself at him, brought up short by the seat belt. Scrambling, she unbuckled the belt and, just as Jason pulled to the side of the road, threw herself at him. "Thank you, thank you," she said earnestly, her little heart pounding painfully in her chest, hugging Jason tight. She was going to stay with Jason! My Jason!

When they finally resumed their drive, she giggled at the silly smile on his face. He looked happy too. "You love me," she said, feeling warm.

"Maybe."

"Nope. You love me," she said with a big smile, content, absolutely convinced.

Her happiness lasted until Jason checked the Internet when they returned to the room. His frown told her something wasn't right.

"Well, well," he muttered to himself. "Welcome home, Mr. Carlyle."

"Is that the third one?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," Jason replied absentmindedly, still working his netbook. "There you are," he said under his breath, his voice cold. He looked up. "You're staying here tonight."

"Am not!" she responded immediately. "I'm coming with you!"

"Carla, look at me." Jason's tone was serious. "You will stay in this room. You will not leave, you will not answer the door or the phone. Understand?"

"NO! I don't understand."

The fear in her face gave him pause. "Carla, this time I really can't take you along. I promise. It could make it more dangerous for me." He knew he'd never be able to concentrate if Carla was with him, too worried for her. "Please, Carla," he added.

It was the last thing she wanted. Separated from Jason? Worried? But the way his gray eyes darkened, how serious he looked, she couldn't dismiss it. "Okay," she said with reluctance, adding, "Just this once. Never again."

"Just this once."

Jason returned at 2:35 am. Carla had been sitting, worrying. He'd said he'd be back at one! She was worried, then angry. He deserved to be ignored! That's it, she'd ignore him - pretend to be asleep. It would serve him right! She'd give him the cold shoulder!

"Where were you?!!!" she yelled when he entered, running and throwing herself at him, grasping him around the neck, holding tight, relief pouring through her small body.

"Jesus Carla. You'll wake everyone up." Jason liked the reception, grinning. It felt nice to have someone miss him, to have Carla miss him.

"You were late," she muttered into his neck, inhaling deeply, smelling Jason, comforted, worry fading.

Jason paused, holding Carla, one arm around her slim back, the other holding her bottom. In fact, her bottom felt very good in his hand. "Nice bum," he said with a grin and a squeeze.

"Hey! I'm angry at you."

"Oh? Well how angry?" Jason asked smiling, moving her slightly so he could kiss her neck, intoxicating little girl aroma in his nose. When he sucked her neck she giggled.

"HEY!" She giggled again. It tickled and made her tingle, too.

"Still angry with me?"

"Maybe not that much," she sighed when Jason nibbled her earlobe.

Putting her down reluctantly, he headed for the shower, stripping and tossing his clothes as he went.

"You're a slob," she muttered, following and picking up his clothes. Sitting on the toilet seat as he showered she asked what happened.

Jason stuck his head around the shower curtain, dark hair plastered to his brow. "You really want to know?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

"He had an accident."

"Like what?"

"None of your business."

"Is he dead?" she asked calmly.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Good! Asshole."

As Jason dried, rubbing the towel hard, she studied him. He was really lean and ropy. She knew he was fast and could move like a ghost, but looking at him she thought he just looked lean. Staring at his penis, she felt a twinge of desire, and an ache deep inside her lower stomach bloomed.

She stood and went to him, hugged him around his slim waist, glancing down at his penis. With a grin he couldn't see, she held it, soft, small. Still grinning, she rubbed her thumb over the tip gently and watched as it started to grow. She felt it expand in her hand. So fascinating. It got thicker and longer, the head growing. Amazing. A gentle squeeze made it much harder and, when she stroked the shaft in her hand with a feather touch she felt it rise even more, the mushroom-shaped head turning darker.

For no reason other than it was so close, she kissed the tip, warm and firm against her lips. The shudder in Jason's body she felt through her arm around his waist told her he liked it. She kissed it again, lingering a bit longer. His erection throbbed when she did. How interesting. Well if he liked that.

Jason couldn't understand how this little girl could get him so aroused so fast. He couldn't see her face with her head bent, but he knew the feeling of lips. He heard the kiss. When a warm moistness surrounded his crown he just about came. Pulling her away, he lifted her up, carrying her to the bed.

"Hey. I hadn't finished," Carla claimed indignantly. She liked it and wanted to explore a bit more. It made her pussy feel good.

"My turn," Jason grinned while lying her down, moving over her small body, holding himself up on his straight arms. Looking into her sweet face, his chest heavy, pressure, love, he smiled and kissed her gently. When she reached for him he moved down, kissing her tiny breasts, so, so small. A gentle suck brought stiffness to them, the areola crinkling, her nipples tiny hard nubs. Moving down he kissed her silky tummy. Moving down even further he kissed her prominent mound, sighing as his lips touched silky skin, soft and plump, completely hairless and utterly sexy. Deep creases at the sides made her pussy seem larger, a sensual peach filling her groin. A bit lower and his lips touched the top of her cleft, her aroma, the scent of her arousal tickling his nose. Jason's penis throbbed, precum leaking.

Carla's fingers combed through his hair as he kissed lower, sexy, sexy labia closed, seductive cleft, scent stronger. Her legs parted, knees rose, delicate hands pushing his head. Jason's erection surged painfully when moisture touched his lips, when he tasted her arousal, a heady, delicious moisture. Probing slightly, gently, warm thick labia yielded hugging his tongue and he touched the incredibly small opening of her vagina. He was amazed at how small it was; amazed it had been able to stretch enough to take him. Memories of how tight she was made his erection strain. With her taste firmly locked in his mind, he pushed his tongue up, separating her labia, moving up through her silky smooth cleft until he felt the tip of her clitoral hood and small, immature inner labia.

With her knees up and legs parted, her mons loomed large, mounded and filling her groin seductively, a stunning delta-shape, thick, full, so deliciously erotic. Her clitoral hood lay just inside her cleft, a long hood. Under his probing tongue he found the hard bead of her clitoris. She jerked slightly when he probed it.

Excitement electrified his body from his oral exploration. With the tip of his finger he probed her velvety soft vagina, moist heat gripping the tip sensuously tight. Sucking her inflamed clit, he probed deeper, his finger gradually slipping into her moist sheath to his second knuckle.

Carla groaned and moved her pelvis, trying to get Jason's finger deeper. She needed a spot rubbed deep inside. Before she could press down more, he sucked her clit hard, his tongue strumming it. It was too much. She cried out loudly, her climax exploding and slamming into her taking her breath away. Her hands grasped his hair, her pelvis surging, legs snapping closed against his head, and bright colors exploded behind closed eyes. He sucked again and another hard, hard wave of ecstasy hit her. She completely lost control, humping against Jason's mouth, stomach muscles cramping, pure bliss tearing through her small body. Another massive wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. She cried out again, felt herself squirting, humping, lost, lost, sounds fading, tired, so tired, heart pounding. Carla collapsed.

Jason cuddled Carla, held her close. He could feel her small heart pounding, her body still trembling, occasionally twitching. Her eyes were closed, her pretty face relaxed. She looked so sweet, so petite, so cute; so damned lovable. She smelled good; smelled of sex and more, seductive. The feel of her breaths against him and her sweet seductive scent lulled him to sleep.

He was dreaming, the crown of his erection oozing into a tight, tiny vagina. His erection strained and throbbed as silky warmth hugged his crown firmly, sexy, highly arousing, pure heaven. He couldn't believe how amazing it felt, almost as if he was being sucked. Consciousness returned when he felt movement. Before his eyes even opened he knew it wasn't a dream. He could feel Carla's small mouth sucking his erection, the head encased in warm, delicious suction. Groaning he opened his eyes, his erection pulsing with pleasure, body shuddering as a soft tongue toyed with the pee-hole. Carla was on her knees, bent over, sheets at the foot of the bed, her small delicate hand holding his shaft, the other small hand cupping his testicles, and God, mouth open wide, lips stretched on his shaft, sucking, slurping, Jesus sucking. He groaned deeply, erection hard and pulsing.

For just a moment - a fleeting moment - he thought of warning her. But when she stroked his shaft gently, fondled his aching testicles and slipped his penis deeper into her small mouth, when he felt his erection touch the back, he couldn't do anything, not even breathe. Pure agony tore through him, testicles aching and painful, his erection straining and pressure in his groin. Moaning, trying not to thrust, feeling dizzy, semen tore up his shaft and, with a painful convulsion, cum exploded into Carla's small mouth, pure ecstasy flashing through him with the release. Gasping, another convulsion hit when he watched Carla's throat move, watched her swallowing his cum. A huge surge slammed into him, exquisite agony, cum jetting out. In rapid succession Jason came powerfully, surging and spurting into Carla's mouth, pleasure pounding him with each intense release until he was pulsing with no semen left, panting, gasping, body cramping.

When Carla let his flagging erection go and glanced up at him, deep blue eyes glinting in excitement, the back of her hand wiping her mouth and grinning at him, Jason reached out, grabbed her, pulled her into a tight, tight hug, whispering softly, "You're right. I love you."

"Told ya," she murmured, snuggling.

"How about Alpaca farming?" Carla asked over dinner.

Jason looked at her. Carla had grown appreciably in the last two and a half years; almost five feet now and lanky, too. She'd developed lovely little breasts, breasts he was intimately familiar with. Her hair had grown as well, falling just below her shoulder blades in a thick feathered mane.

"Where exactly would these Alpaca's live? We're in a forest, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah. Forgot." She turned back to flipping through a magazine, one eye on the TV, stirring a French fry carefully in a pool of ketchup and inspecting it before taking a bite.

It had taken thirteen months to rebuild the cabin, although it was a bit larger this time . . . well, way larger. Mr. James Carlyle had suffered a heart attack and drowned in his bathtub. Unfortunate. Then again, an injection of concentrated nicotine will create some problems. It had been Jason's last action.

He wondered why Carla kept suggesting different occupations. First it was sustainable cat fish farming when she watched the Discovery channel, followed by insurance salesman when she saw a Geiko ad, and funniest of all was her asking if he'd ever considered racing cars when they'd watched NASCAR.

"Why are you trying to find something for me to do?" he asked her, taking his last bite of the delicious burger.

"Cuz. You need to work."

"I don't. I told you we're okay for money." The accounts of three men had held a king's ransom. It had all been safely moved, washed and deposited in the Cayman Islands.

"No. It's not that. You need to work. You're bored."

Her simple statement, the simple truth of it, hit home. He'd felled enough trees and chopped enough wood for three winters. He'd run longer and harder every morning, going nowhere. He loved being with Carla, loved her passionately. But the reality was that being idle was harder than he'd thought it would be.

Studying her, so pretty, her soft cotton T-shirt hinting at the small sexy mounds on her chest, slim jeans tight, a sharp V-shape at her groin, the jeans squeezed between labia he loved so much, a sexy camel toe, Jason felt an all-too-familiar reaction.

Screw worrying about working, he thought and stood. Walking over to Carla, he bent, grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder as she laughed, thumping him on his back.

"Let go!" she laughed. "Jeez Jason, its only seven o'clock!" and when he didn't stop, "I haven't finished eating," she added, laughing hard.

Tossing her on their bed, he grinned. "I've decided on an occupation," he said. "Gigolo. I'll have one client, YOU!"

Carla roared with laughter. "You'd never be able to keep up. You're OLD, Dad!"

"Am not! And I intend to prove it," he replied, still affected by how she called him Dad every so often.

They wrestled, Carla squealing when he pulled her T-shirt off and sucked her delightful boobs. He wrestled with her jeans, tugging when she tried to hold onto the waist, giggling. She burst into laughter when Jason grabbed the back and tugged so hard he lifted her clear off the bed, her grip lost, jeans yanked off.

Twisting and turning she tried to protect her pink panties, shoving her hands between her legs and clamping her thighs together, laughing so hard tears started streaming down her cheeks. But even in her amusement at his intensity, her nipples puckered and ached and she could feel herself getting excited.

"Stop!" she begged, laughing. "You'll tear them!"

She roared in laughter when Jason tried to pry her legs apart with his knees, grabbing and tugging the sides of her panties. Suddenly she relaxed and let him pull them off, watching him with a sneaky grin.

Jason was inflamed, so, so aroused at her struggles. When her pussy appeared, lightly dusted with dark brown pubic hairs, thicker on her mons, sparse and accentuating her plump labia, his arousal spiked. She was such a sexy little girl, small breasts rising, hard little nipples.

Standing, he tore off his T-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down, underwear pushed down and collecting around his ankles. His penis rose, hard, rigid. Just when he started to bend and remove his feet from the clothes, Carla rolled and jumped off the bed, laughing, music to his ears. He saw her make a move for the door and reached out to grab her. With feet still tangled in his jeans and underwear he tumbled to the floor with a loud thump, Carla's peal of laughter making him smile as a seductive naked bouncing bottom disappeared through the doorway.

Wrestling with the uncooperative clothes, he finally freed himself and charged out of the bedroom, erection waving in front of him. He grinned when he saw Carla behind the couch, poised ready to run, big, big grin on her pretty face. God he loved her. Approaching the couch he moved to the left. She moved to the right, small boobs jiggling seductively with her laughter, deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

He moved to the right. She moved to the left, watching him carefully, big grin, crinkled areola distracting him. He paused, grinned at her. "You can't escape," he said with authority.

"You're OLD! Of course I can," she answered, a radiant smile growing.

Suddenly Jason dived over the couch and grabbed her. They tumbled to the floor, Carla emitting an "ooof" as she hit the ground, their legs twisted together, Carla struggling to escape. He hugged her tight and with a sneaky grin, nuzzled her neck, the sweet seductive scent of Carla filling his nose. He kissed her softly, Carla still struggling. He sucked her neck gently, Carla's struggles slowing. He nibbled on her earlobe and Carla became still in his arms. She sighed, her arms wrapping around him. "No fair," she murmured, her leg coming out from under him to hook around his thigh.

Jason smiled to himself. She never could resist her earlobes being nibbled. Rising slightly he looked into deep blue eyes softened with arousal, a gorgeous face, one he loved deeply. Bending, soft lips touched lightly, soft lips, sexy lips. Carla slipped her arms around his neck, tilted her head slightly, mouth opening and their tongues touched sending a spike of pleasure through him, his erection resting on her silky tummy.

Carla caressed him with her slender leg, sliding up and down his thigh as their kiss deepened, passion growing. She added small pelvic movements, pushing her aching pussy against his muscular thigh, rubbing herself, passion building. She felt wetness on her tummy and moaned. She loved his precum, warm and so slippery. She loved how excited Jason would get, thrilled that she turned him on every time. Her heart pounded. God she loved him.

The passionate kiss ended when Jason moved down, caressing her small breasts, kissing the tips, touching her hard nipples lightly with his tongue. Carla moaned and strained her chest up, sighing deeply when he took a breast into his mouth, gentle suction sending pulses of arousal to her pussy and an ache bloomed deep inside her lower stomach, a yearning, desire, need.

Jason felt her begin to writhe, her body undulating with arousal. Rising to his knees, arms straight, he looked down at her, petite, naked, firm small breasts, chest flushed, eyes hot with desire, utterly gorgeous. When he moved between her slender thighs she rolled, turning over, face down, her seductive bottom rising, knees bending. Glorious young buttocks changed shape, her bottom flaring into a sensual curve, small pussy oozing out between her thighs, sparse dark hairs accentuating sexy plump labia, her alluring cleft tightly closed.

Jason's heart pounded, exceeding 120 beats per minute when Carla slowly parted her knees. Buttocks separated to reveal her dark anus and labia slowly peeled apart, a dark shadow leading to her vagina appearing, moisture glistening. Her labia parted more, damp pink cleft flowering open and a reddened, inflamed clitoris appeared. Sexy, sexy.

His erection was painfully hard at the sight, need shaking inside. Carla's shoulders rose, arms straight. Her head turned, deep blue eyes hot, shining. "Like this, please?" she whispered, wiggling her sexy bottom slightly.

He couldn't resist, just couldn't. She was so sensual, so arousing, so damned sexy. Kneeling behind her perfect bottom Jason guided his painful erection to her cleft, small pubic hairs tickling the wet tip. He caressed her cleft with his erection, precum lubricating, rubbing her inflamed clitoris. Carla's body twitched and pushed back. Sliding the tip up from her clit, he felt the depression, hot and slippery with their combined arousal. Gently, with eyes riveted, he watched her small cleft spread, labia thinning, oozing out to hug his flared head. With half of his crown caressed by warm labia, he felt her opening, small, small and hot on his tip.

Carla groaned and pushed back, her vagina dilating, her tight, tight opening stretching over his crown, stretching. She backed off, pushed back again and Jason held his breath at the exquisite feeling of Carla's vagina slipping over his crown, of it popping in, of her entrance sealed tight on his shaft, paradise, paradise, her velvet grip tight.

Sweat beads popped out on his brow, his erection expanding and contracting with sexual excitement. Bending forward, he reached for her small breasts, perfect cones pointing to the floor, raised areolae, stiff little nipples. With two breasts in hand, he hunched forward. They groaned in unison when her vaginal walls parted, his pulsing erection gliding into her tight sheath smoothly, deep, deeper, even deeper.

"Yes," she whispered heatedly when he felt the tip nudge her rubbery cervix. Jason tried to hold still. He tried to hold the feeling of being completely buried inside Carla, of his erection held in the silkiest sheath, tight and pulsing on him. He tried but Carla sighed, pulled off slightly and pushed back, massaging his straining shaft, tickling his crown. It was too much, too much for any man to take. Straightening, he held her slim waist and narrow hips and withdrew, watching heatedly as her sexy pussy seemed to evert, desperately holding onto his glistening shaft. When the inflamed ridge oozed out, he reversed, sinking into heaven slowly, all the way until he nudged against her cervix again.

"Oh Jesus. Please," she whispered again, pulling and pushing back insistently, her pussy throbbing and gripping him. Holding her slim hips harder, Jason started stroking, long withdrawals, deep erotic penetrations, the pace slowly increasing. Carla huffed, pushing back hard, his erection knocking against the ache deep inside her pussy.

Their pace increased, glistening shaft appearing and disappearing with firm smooth thrusts. They were wet, the sound of buttocks slapping into his groin joined Carla's huffing, her moaning. He thrust harder, tugged her hips harder, his erection hitting her cervix with every deep, beautifully pleasurable thrust, pressure inside him building, testicles heavy. Their pace increased, now fast deep strokes, fucking each other, lubrication turning foamy and white at her entrance, buttocks jiggling seductively as his groin slapped against her bum.

"Oh God, cumming!" Carla gasped, thrusting back hard, hard, her body shaking.

Jason's erection strained painfully. "Jesus, Carla!"

With a loud, loud groan, Jason shoved his penis deep, thrusting it hard against her cervix, her soft little buttocks pressed to his groin. His erection swelled and, with a burst of ecstasy, semen charged up his shaft to explode deep inside Carla, spurting hard into her small womb. Breath-robbing pleasure tore through his body, muscles cramping. Pulling back he shoved hard, hard, penis straining as another painful surge of semen exploded violently from his aching erection. Carla cried out, her vagina tightening before she collapsed forward to the floor. Jason followed her down, thrusting into her tight little pussy, spurting his cum deep. He pushed against her sweet bottom, thrusting into from behind, spurting semen with exquisite pleasure bombarding him, thrusting and banging against her little bottom until he ran dry, and still he thrust, desperately chasing pleasure, chasing his orgasm, wanting more, until he too collapsed, drained, completely drained.

Looking at Jason after he rolled off her to her side, heart pounding, feeling the afterglow of an incredible orgasm, his semen seeping out and sliding thickly through her cleft to pool on the floor, Carla smiled and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. My Jason.

When he opened his eyes, sexy gray eyes looking at her with intense love, she suggested with a smile, "Gigolo, huh? Does it pay well?"

"How much money do you have?" Jason asked with a grin.