Free Fontanas Trouble by T C Archer

her.
    “The people playing pool could be
a problem.” She’d noted the half-dozen players through the front windows when
they’d passed by in the cab. “If they get in the way, we’ll have to abort the
operation.”
    Brent turned his head toward her,
an odd look on his face, and Fontana realized her words abort the operation had caught his attention. This was a fantasy, not an operation, and casualties
weren’t a possibility.
    She grinned. “What do you think;
can we beat the system and finish your fantasy ahead of time?”
    A smile spread across his face.
“Hell, yes!”
    “They’ve got a couple more
customers.” She nodded at the man and woman entering through the front door.
    In the hour since they’d watched
the building, they’d observed guests coming and going, headed for the speakeasy
in the back of the building. She and Brent wore loose brown suits, white
shirts, and thin neckties. Had this been a real operation, she would have been
properly outfitted, have complete intel on the building and Jimmy’s operation,
and possibly have had backup and extraction arranged. At minimum, she would be
wearing Nylene body armor, a formfitting bodysuit that wouldn’t stop a bullet
but was effective against slow-moving projectiles like knives and flying glass.
    She had no access to equipment or
weapons here at the resort. Nothing more dangerous than a table knife could be
had. But that was also the case for the Bull as well as the guard carrying the
wicked-looking Tommy gun. Their guns—props—only looked real. Fontana again
shifted her attention onto the guard. Unlike the inconspicuous modern handheld
weapons, the submachine gun looked every bit an instrument of death. She
wouldn’t want to face the primitive weapon if it was real.
    As part of Brent’s cover, his
agent had given him a pool cue that unscrewed into two pieces and rested inside
the case he’d set on the ground beside him. She and Brent had agreed that he
would leave the cue here, and Fontana would use the thick, heavy end as a
weapon.
    “If we get in and out without any
trouble, the people in the back room won’t be aware anything’s going on,” she
said. “We can retrieve the key and be out of here before they report to
Sagitariun that it was stolen. You know your part?”
    “I get a game of pool going, then
start a fight with the thugs that keeps them busy.”
    Fontana would enter through the
alley and surprise the actors inside, who wouldn’t expect him to have an
accomplice. She would force Jimmy and his gang to retreat so Brent could
retrieve the code from the safe. She was almost giddy. What would the resort do
when Brent solved his fantasy well in advance of their schedule? The fantasy
adventure games were designed to be unsolvable until the very last hour. Many
guests finished their quest in the last few seconds and ended up rushing to
catch their departing ship or missing it altogether and taking another flight.
That was considered a successful fantasy. If she and Brent beat the computers,
the planners might have a nervous breakdown.
    The prospect of blowing off steam
with some hard play had her blood pumping. She hadn’t played war games since
her days at the academy. This was a damned good distraction. Fontana shifted
her gaze to Brent. He stared at the building, oblivious to her interest.
    The only better distraction was
having his cock inside her—or hers inside him. The thought of repeating their
experience at the Roman baths sent a frisson of desire through her—just as
seeing the way his broad shoulders filled out the brown suit did. The white
collar of his shirt hugged his tanned neck like a silk manacle. Fontana leaned
the few centimeters toward his ear and drew in a deep breath of his scent. His
head swiveled in her direction. His eyes lay in shadow, but she recognized the
sudden tensing of his body as both surprise and desire. She’d give him a little
distraction.
    She again brought her mouth to
his ear and brushed his