Michael Jackson and Mona James find their way back to each other. Unbeknownest to Michael she is sent on an unexpected mission by the FBI. The two first met in Moscow, during his private stay. Unexpectedly falling for each other, fate was put into t...
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Michael Jackson is a highly sought out individual. Loved by millions, secretly hated by others. His high profile keeps a tight target on his back. He does his best to keep a tight circle. Don't trust many. Be vigilant and resilient. Through Michael's vast lifestyle he learned to be unbreakable to the casualties and exposures presented to him.
The night was still young in this sense, Michael wanted to be lazy in the comforts of his own bed. His eyes began to hang low, sleep was knocking at his body. Just as he began to enter REM, he was yanked out of bed. A rope latched on to his ankle dragging him out of his bed. The balls of his eyes broke away from his eyelids and the curls on his head stuck to different regions of his face.
"The FBI has been keeping close tabs on you."
He held his head back and scuffed as the woman took her mask off. Now the voice matched the face and instantly he threw out a collage of slurs. "Mona we meet again. I see you have no social life. Your department is obsessed with me. Why not use your resources for actual criminals?" His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He was beginning to become annoyed at the inconvenient disturbance.
"I love when we find our way back to each other like this. Plus seeing you restrained under my control does something special to me." She sat on his chest. The leather of her pants attached to his body. She traced her manicured french nails down the bridge his nose and along the skin of his lips. "Seeing you mad turns me on. If only the world could see the other side of you."
She was caught off guard when he rolled on top of her and the rope that constrained his feet was now loose. They tussled momentarily. Michael was a strong willed man in every sense. A lot of people underestimated his physical strength but through his long career of dancing and hour long rehearsals he built a lot of core muscle strength.
Mona was not a weak girl either. Her long years of experience working under a subgroup of a secret intelligence team, a part of Russia's special operations command provided her with the drill and character most women hadn't been exposed to.
Like a king cobra in the Myanmar rainforest she is patient in her pursuits, slithering as she conforms to the coordination of her environment. She had to be tough, witty, ten times smarter than most. If she wasn't she'd reap the consequences. The scar under her eye was proof of that.
Michael reached for the gun under the bed and angled it towards Mona's head. "Get against the wall now." She raised her hand up, surrendering to his will. Her back pressed at the wall as Michael walked towards her figure with the gun pointed at her.
"Didn't I tell you the last time you tried this to stop fucking with me? Now give me one reason why I shouldn't blow your precious little brains out." His hands pressured a hold around her neck. He tapped the gun onto her lips. Sniffing the trail of Geranium and Blueberry that was attached to her skin. She snaked her head back and forth trying to escape his hold.
