by Various
I can’t do this. Breathlessly, she broke free, and yet her hands still stroked across his chests and shoulders, learning him, her body pivoting on one heel and her hips locked against his. “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”
“No, not at all. I’m trying to make you relax.”
“Yeah, right.” Looking into his eyes she saw that he really meant it. Could it be true? Even if it was true, it didn’t stop her being embarrassed. She shrugged his comment off. “Is this what you do to all of the witnesses under your so-called protection?”
He lifted her, bodily, and turned her around, pressing her up against the wall in a flash, his hands sliding her skirt up the sides of her hips. “No,” he said, voice husky and intimate, “but you’re the only one who has ever come on to me before we were even introduced.” His eyes flickered. “That makes you pretty damn memorable. Besides, you gave me an invitation I don’t intend to let you revoke.”
Christ, he was so full-on, and her body burned in response to his hands on her. “What the hell are you doing?”
He ducked down and planted a hungry kiss on her throat. “Touching you…everywhere I think you need to be touched.” His hand was under the front of her skirt and it closed over her knickers, cupping the mound of her pussy and making her gasp aloud. He lifted his head, and nodded. “Oh yes, you’re hot. You did enjoy it, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were Adrian,” she shot at him, annoyed, and then moaned involuntarily when he squeezed her pussy. The action took her breath away.
“So you keep saying.”
Her clit burned and pulsed inside the hard cup of his palm, and she shifted from one foot to the other.
He moved one leg against the outside of hers, caging her in. “But it’s me now, touching you, and your underwear is damp in my hand…how…shocking.” He tutted mockingly while he massaged her pussy, ignoring her feeble, half-hearted attempts to push him away.
“You bastard.” Her arms felt weak, and her head tipped back against the surface of the wall for balance. Her eyes closed as pleasure filled her groin, her core clamping, aching to be filled by that hard cock he had pressed against her hip.
Then he pushed his hand inside her knickers and one finger sank into her damp groove, brushing over her swollen clit. Her pulse beat wildly in response.
“Tell me you want me to stop, and I will.” He paused, loosening his hold, teasing one finger along the damp, sensitive lips of her sex.
“I…” Her head rolled from side to side.
He roved deeper and stroked her clit.
Once.
Aching need shot through her.
Her core spasmed and she squirmed, her hips rolling. “Don’t stop,” she begged, unable to help herself. “Please don’t stop…”
With consummate skill he stroked his finger back and forth over her clit, teasing her orgasm to the surface. He held her gaze while he did so, watching her as she climaxed—as if every moment fascinated him. That alone would have pushed her to the edge, but his finger had already become her master. She was lost to the experience, and seeing his reaction only made her peak come all the faster. Her breath hitched in her chest and she moaned aloud. Latching her hands over his shoulders, she held on tight.
Release barreled through her.
Her legs buckled and the inside of her thighs was slick wet.
Strong arms held her up.
It was through a haze of pleasure that she became aware of his mouth on her jaw. He kissed her softly, his breath warm on her alert skin. She jerked back, confused by him, and confused by what had happened. He lifted his head and smiled knowingly at her. A moment later he stepped away and walked to the door, leaving her slumped against the wall with her skirt hitched up around her hips, dazed and panting.
He’s going to walk out, right now, she realized.
She glared at his back as she pulled her skirt back into place. “You’ve just gone and made it even harder for me to leave this room!”
He paused with his hand on the door handle and looked back at her. Humor filled his expression. “You can do it. I have faith in you.” He looked her up and down. “Oh, I’ll bring you that sandwich. You’ll need sustenance.”
I hate you, she thought, as she watched him leave, wishing that he was staying, instead.
Chapter Six
Dawn broke, the icy morning mist lingering around the red brick housing estate. Emery Lavonne pulled the collar on his jacket closer around his neck and watched the safe house through narrowed eyes, his cheeks grinding with annoyance, his huffed breath hanging in the atmosphere. It was a plain suburban detached house on a postage stamp of land, surrounded by identical houses. The only difference was this one was empty. It shouldn’t be.
Lavonne had headed straight for the Midlands after he’d seen Seth Jones removing the witness. The fact that they hadn’t turned up here was bad news. Why? Throughout the night he’d hidden in the bushes, having sought out a good viewing point, but now he emerged and glared at the place unchecked. Jones had obviously not followed the plan he had been given.
An attempt on the witness’s life would have unsettled him. Would that have been enough to make him deviate from the plans that had been set in motion at headquarters, or had there been a last-minute change? Jones was seen as a stalwart of the department, he never usually broke any rules, but he’d also never lost a witness. He wouldn’t want a black mark on his record now. Lavonne had been in the office earlier that day, when Seth Jones left for his one-on-one time with the witness. Either it was a last-minute change in safe house, or Jones had reacted to the attempt. Whichever it was, it was bad news. He didn’t need complications. This had to be quick and clean. Plan A, take the witness down before he left London. Plan B, track Seth Jones and his witness, preferably getting to the safe house before they got there. He was going to have to figure out plan C, and fast.
Lavonne cursed Seth Jones. He had always got his back up and doubly so now he was the officer on the case. What he couldn’t figure was why Jones had taken another person, a woman, with him. Was she Adrian Walsh’s girlfriend? The paperwork hadn’t indicated the witness had a wife or a partner, but Lavonne had seen Seth with a woman by the car. Walsh had been inside the vehicle. He couldn’t see her face, but he’d watched from a side street as Jones took them both into safe custody, and he was annoyed that he’d missed a chance. It didn’t matter. He’d simply take down his target at the new safe house, or wherever the fuck Seth had taken them.
He checked the time. It was close to seven, and he had to leave now in order to get back to London and the office. Casting one last glance over the safe house, he left. He’d parked his car five streets away, and he was jogging in that direction when his mobile phone bleeped. Flicking it open, he saw that it was Jason Keane, his contact for the hit. Grimacing, he considered not answering it. He wanted to get on the road, but this might be important. He didn’t want the job to go to someone else because he’d ignored the call.
He answered. “Yes.”
“Progress?”
“I’ll be on the system today. I’ll have the safe house address before the day is out.”
Silence. “You told me you had it already.”
“I want to be sure,” Lavonne lied. He’d reached his parked car and climbed inside, more comfortable now he couldn’t be overheard. “Leave it with me, you won’t be disappointed.”
“There is no room for disappointment.” Keane paused. “Remember that.”
Lavonne gritted his teeth for a moment before allowing himself to respond. “The sooner you hang up, the sooner I can do this.”
“Sure, but I want to meet you.”
Lavonne’s hand tightened on the phone. He sensed Keane was enjoying this. Could he afford the risk of being seen with him? “Why? Is that necessary? It’s all time-wasting.”
“Mr. Carlisle asked me to meet with you in person. He’s happy with the arrangement and with the fee you named. I’ll pay you fifty percent now, fifty percent wh
en the job is done.”
“Fair enough.” The money was only a small part of it for Lavonne, but he wasn’t about to admit that. He had his own reasons, and he had inside information. He’d offered to take out the key witness and Keane had taken the bait. He didn’t mention that he’d already made an attempt. There was a chance it would be on the news, but there would be a cover up, given the witness status. He’d taken a chance, tried to hit the target before they left the city. Slight error of judgment there, but there would be another time, and this time he wouldn’t fail.
“Mr. Carlisle likes to be kept informed, which means I have to touch base with you every few hours. Believe me, I’d rather do the job myself and not have to deal with you. You’re a cop and I don’t trust cops.”
Lavonne resisted the urge to be sarcastic. Jason Keane was a drug dealer and a jumped up lackey, but he didn’t want to antagonize him. “The target is already off the public radar. The important thing is I’ll take care of it, and quickly.”
“Good, because Mr. Carlisle doesn’t like his cell. It’s not up to his usual standards.”
“Trust me, I’m on it.”
“You’d better be, because I’m on you, and you won’t shake me free until we are done with this.”
Mouth twitching with annoyance, Lavonne shut his phone and rammed his keys in the ignition.
* * * *
Seth’s sarcastic “I have faith in you” remark did encourage Lily to venture out of her room, but not until the following morning. She’d spent most of the night alternately fuming, getting aroused, being embarrassed, and brooding on her situation, until eventually she passed out with exhaustion. Around eight she awoke. All was quiet in the building. By the time she had showered and dressed she’d been able to chuckle to herself, having finally seen the funny side of his teasing remark the night before.
Of course she could do it.
She’d been brave enough to meet up with her virtual lover, she’d flirted madly with a stranger who’d subsequently seduced her, and she’d even stuck her tongue out at him when he’d delivered her sandwich the night before. Going out there and facing the pair of them was simply the next step in a catalogue of mistakes and humiliations. Keeping her sense of humor was clearly paramount.
The fact that her curiosity was getting the better of her also proved to be good motivation. What were the two of them doing out there, she constantly wondered as she stared at the door. Late into the night she’d heard the TV, and later on some chatter and laughter. Had they been discussing her? Before she let herself ponder that one too much and lost her nerve as a result, she grabbed the door handle and left her room.
Further down the corridor was a door with a sign that read ‘Residents’ Lounge’. That’s where Seth had emerged from the night before, when she’d tried to grab her phone. The door was open, and she headed over and ducked her head in. It was thankfully empty of attractive men this morning, so she made her way across the gloomy room and peeped through the curtains to have a good look around and get her bearings.
Large French windows overlooked a patio and frost-covered evergreen borders, and the view beyond was postcard-pretty with bare, frosted trees and distant hills dotted with sheep. The room itself was large and comfortable. There were several well-stuffed armchairs and a matching sofa. One wall was lined with books. There was also a TV, a rack of DVDs, and what looked like a well-stocked bar in one corner of the room.
Braving the corridor again, she noticed that the doors to room number one and two were both slightly ajar. The sound of a shower running emerged from at least one doorway. She headed in the opposite direction, towards the staircase. To the left of it she saw an open doorway that led into the kitchen.
Whoa, this place is a dream. Andrea would love it. It was just the sort of thing they wanted for their business, but they couldn’t stretch to it as yet. She walked along the stainless steel cooker tops and work surfaces, running her fingers over them possessively. A massive great breakfast bar ran down the centre of the room, two stainless steel poles reaching from floor to ceiling at either end giving the place a high-tech, all-mod-cons feel that didn’t quite fit with the rest of the house. Whoever did the cooing here liked their gadgets. As she passed, she loosely clasped the pole at one end, pivoting on one heel, imagining what Andrea would say if she could see this fabulous kitchen.
“Oh yes, you like that, don’t you?”
Lily turned on her heel, her hand falling way from the pole.
Adrian was standing in the doorway, elbow up against the frame as he supported his weight on one leg, a walking stick in his other hand. His insinuating gaze was on her shimmying with the pole.
Her skin prickled anxiously and she quickly moved away from the metal pole when she realized what she’d done. Without thought, she had sashayed across the space by instinct, using the pole as her pivoting point.
It was there in his eyes; he remembered everything she’d said—that fantasy about being a pole dancer or a lap dancer for a private audience, one special man. Part of her wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. The other part of her responded to the intimate knowledge held in his gaze. Isn’t that what she wanted, someone who would know her secret desires without her having to say them aloud? Yes, but she hadn’t known then that it would work out like this, that she would be locked into a place and time with him that she couldn’t just get up and walk away from. Flustered, she rebuked his comment. “You’re embarrassing me.”
He smiled, and there was gentleness and fondness there in his expression. “I know, and I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist when I saw you there and remembered.” He was a good man. More subtle than she’d thought he would be. He winked and the tension she felt dissipated a little. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible to embarrass you, not when we were exchanging explicit messages in that chat room.”
Somehow she felt rooted to the spot, trapped by the amused accusation in his expression. She wanted to be that brave woman who had chatted with him so explicitly, but right now it was hard to muster it up. “It was easier then and we talked about that, we both knew it wouldn’t be as easy when we met.”
There was a defensive tone to her voice that she resented. Glancing back over her shoulder as she walked over to the kettle, she saw that Seth was standing in the doorway, watching them. Could this get any more difficult? Above all she craved to be braver, but it seemed beyond her grasp because they were here and not in London, and Seth was part of the equation she hadn’t bargained on. She took a deep breath in, focusing on the kettle. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? Steeling herself, she grabbed the kettle as she passed. “I guess—seeing as I am the woman in this set up—I should put the kettle on and make us some tea.”
She delivered the statement with a note of sarcasm, eager to move the topic of conversation on. But even as she busied herself at the sink, filling the electric kettle, she felt their eyes on her and she remembered why she had wanted to be a private dancer for a man who wanted her.
It had been on the lead up to Christmas, and she and Andrea and a mixed group of friends had gone to a lap-dancing club in Soho, for a laugh. It had turned into something else for Lily as she watched the dancers shimmy and slide, and she felt the sensual power delivered in their actions. She wanted that, to exhibit her sensuality, to strut and tease and to have a man grow eager for her as she displayed herself. The fantasy had shocked her at first, still did if she was honest, but she hadn’t been able to shrug it off. Inevitably, it had come out during her chats with Adrian.
She heard the clunk of Adrian’s stick behind her. “Remember our agreement?”
She turned to look at him, ignoring the looming presence of Seth beyond him—trying also to ignore the fact Seth had brought her to orgasm so ruthlessly the night before.
Adrian’s eyes were filled with concern, and there was reassurance there, too. “We agreed that if it didn’t work out, it didn’t work out. No big deal. I’m sorry you got dragged into this. Thi
s situation has taken away the element of choice we discussed, so everything that went before is null and void…unless you say different…”
Looking into his eyes, she saw his kindness. She also saw the blatantly flirtatious nature she knew from the chat rooms. Deeper still, raw desire. He wanted her. He’d met her for real and he still wanted her. Unless you say different. It was a suggestion. He wanted her to say different; he wanted her to act on their connection. In the pit of her belly she acknowledged that, her core growing warm and supple with yearning. Staring at him, her mind flooded with the sexual scenarios she had envisaged on meeting him. This man knows me. This man knows what I want. She nodded, unable to express more right then, not with Seth listening.
“The last thing I want is for you to feel awkward around me. I’m sorry about teasing you. You just looked so good.” He nodded at the pole, and then looked back at her.
She couldn’t bring herself to reply, because he’d remembered what she had said. She’d never met a man who had remembered what she’d said about her desires, not before now. Seth was watching, too. Dense heat was gathering inside her, her pussy fluttering, an ache of need flaring at her core as words flashed through her mind, words she and Adrian had exchanged. Her libido had been well and truly triggered, and she was only pulled out of it when she felt cold water splashing over her hand. She groped for the tap. She hadn’t even realized the kettle was full to overflowing.
Adrian reached across her, dropping his stick to the floor as he took charge and turned off the tap. “It’s my fault that you’re here,” he said as he straightened up. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. No more teasing. I promise.”
