Armed and Dangerous

by Jo Davis

  His lovers didn’t stay for breakfast. Ever. Yet here he was, cooking the second meal for a lady in less than twenty-four hours.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Thinking about the case,” he lied.

  “Me, too. I was just wondering whether the four missing people have more in common than the club. The club angle seems too simple. There’s always more to a story, right?”

  “True. Well, if there’s another connection, either Chris will find it or we will.”

  They ate companionably, the awkwardness of their earlier conversation dissipated in light of their coming undercover work. Shane waved a piece of bacon at her.

  “Figure we might as well make a plan before you leave. Are we hitting the club today?”

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Around three? That seems like a normal time for a couple to drop by for an afternoon of whatever the hell they do.”

  “We need a story, other than our identities,” she said. “Do you play tennis or golf?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Are you kidding? Not even if somebody paid me.”

  She laughed. “Then we’ll say we’re there for relaxation. To use the pool, sauna. Or . . . a massage!”

  “A swim and sauna sounds good, but I don’t know about the massage thing.” Dubiously, he studied her excited expression.

  “A massage is perfect! We know members are drawn into the group somehow, so what if the spa area is how the leaders are making contact? What’s more sensual than someone rubbing your body? They drop a hint while working us over, make some innuendo. That way they can discreetly find out if we’re receptive. If we’re not, they back off and in come the next clients.”

  “It’s a great theory,” he mused. “And it would mean the group doesn’t have to troll for like minds in the lifestyle—their potential members come right to them. Daisy, you’re a genius!”

  She blushed. “It just makes sense. Should I call and make us appointments before we go?”

  “I suppose so.” He grimaced. “Looks like I’m about to get my first massage.”

  And with any luck, the last.

  • • •

  Mr. and Mrs. Shane Lansing arrived at Ashwood Swim and Racquet Club at precisely two thirty. They had just enough time for a tour of the facility before their host escorted them down a long, ornate hallway to the spa—where they would partake in a couples massage. People really did that kind of shit? Apparently so.

  With an effort, Shane schooled his expression into what he hoped appeared amiable and adventurous. As opposed to irritated and anxious. The host—a man named Rafael—chattered away like a squirrel on speed about every amenity the palace had to offer while Shane did his best to listen. By the time they arrived at the spa’s check-in desk, he was positive his brain was bleeding.

  “Well, here we are. I’ll leave you two to enjoy your massage,” he sang with a wink.

  Shane managed not to curl his lip. “Thanks.”

  “Bye, Rafey! You’ve been super helpful!”

  Rafey beamed, completely taken in by Daisy’s ditzy-blonde act. When the man turned to leave, the perky spa receptionist chimed in.

  “Welcome! What a cute couple!” the brunette chirped. “This is your first time at Ashwood?”

  “We’re new members,” Daisy squealed with glee. “It’s sooo fabulous!”

  “I know!”

  God save me.

  The brunette—Sandy, according to her name tag—consulted her paper. “I see you two have a couples massage at three with Giorgio and Ivana.”

  Seriously? There was no way in hell those were their real names. Be perky, Shane. You’re happy as a clam to be here, waiting to get hit on and lured into an orgy. Or something.

  “You’re going to so totally love it,” Sandy went on. “Just fill out these forms and give them back to me before we get started.” She handed each of them a clipboard and a pen.

  They found seats in the wide lobby area. Shane leaned over and in a mock falsetto gushed, “Oh my gawd! This is sooo awesome!”

  “Shh!” Daisy kicked him in the shin.

  “Ow.”

  “Hush, idiot,” she hissed. “You want to blow this before we get started?”

  “I’ve got something you can blow.”

  “Stop pouting. The quicker we can get in, the faster we can figure out what’s going on.”

  She was right. “Sorry. I’m just way out of my depth here.”

  “So am I. But when we pick up on the trail we’re after, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Provided the trail ends here,” he pointed out. Recalling their earlier conversation, he couldn’t help but think the four missing subjects connected somewhere besides the club. He hoped Chris would be able to unearth something solid.

  After they turned in their clipboards with the forms attached, Sandy showed them through a pair of glass doors and down a hallway that was dim and quiet. Next they were shown into a room that was even more dim than the hallway. Soft music was playing, something with flutes, and a tiny fountain on the counter burbled with water over stones.

  “Just strip and put your clothes over there,” Sandy directed. “Then lie down on the tables, on your stomachs. There are sheets at the end to cover up with. Any questions? Have fun!”

  She breezed out, leaving them staring at each other. “You first,” Daisy said.

  “Nope. We’re doing this at the same time.”

  They stripped. It was a little awkward, but not as much as he feared. In truth, despite his bitching he was looking forward to getting his tired muscles worked by a professional, something he’d never had done before. It was just this couples thing that had him a bit weirded out. That and the possibility that their bait would reel in the fish.

  Resigned, he climbed naked on top of one of the tables that looked like an expensive gurney. It was soft and warmed by an internal heater, and felt really good. Grabbing the sheet, he positioned himself on his stomach and got comfortable while Daisy did the same. It was a shame when she brought up the sheet, covering that pretty skin.

  “This feels nice,” she said.

  “It does. But that fountain thing is going to make me have to take a piss.”

  “Good God, you’re such a guy. Can’t you just enjoy this while we can?”

  “You know what they say about casting pearls before swine.”

  “You got that right.”

  A quiet knock sounded on the door and then opened. Lifting his head, Shane watched a man and woman pad into the room. He wasn’t shocked to see that they were both good-looking. Giorgio was tall and dark-haired, and appeared sort of Mediterranean. Ivana was a strawberry blonde with big boobs, a small waist, and a brilliant smile on her wide mouth. A mouth no doubt made for pleasuring a man. If the glint in her eyes as she met Shane’s gaze was any indication, she wouldn’t be opposed to doing just that.

  “Welcome,” Giorgio said softly, as though not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. “This is your fist time?”

  “As a couple, yes,” Daisy confirmed. “My husband has never had a massage, but being the adventurous man he is, he couldn’t wait.”

  Shane silently congratulated his temporary partner for using just the right amount of innuendo. He didn’t miss the heated look the two massage therapists exchanged, and Giorgio’s almost imperceptible nod.

  The pair made ready with their oils and Ivana moved to Shane’s side while Giorgio went to work on Daisy. Smart to divide and conquer, he thought, making sure they were each worked on by the opposite sex. Ivana pulled back Shane’s sheet to expose him all the way to the top of his ass. Then she poured oil on her hands and started to work on his shoulders. He couldn’t help the groan of pure pleasure that escaped.

  “Good?” He could only make a satisfied noise. “Why hasn’t such an adventurous man had a massage before now?”

  “Too busy pursuing . . . other delights.”

  Her laugh was husky, fingers strong. “I’ll bet. Do you and your p
retty wife pursue those delights together?”

  She sure wasn’t wasting any time. At the table nearby, Giorgio was kneading Daisy’s shoulders as well. Her eyes were closed in bliss.

  “Sometimes,” he replied. “We enjoy all sorts of physical activities.”

  “Do you?” she purred. “Interesting.”

  Her hands worked downward, sending spirals of happiness to every nerve ending. When she her palms skimmed his ass and she began to massage his glutes, he was helpless to keep himself from hardening against the table underneath. He would dare any man not to physically react under the circumstances. Ivana chuckled as though she knew, and kept going. High on his thighs, close to the danger zone. Brushing on the border of impropriety. One inch and she’d be touching his balls, which were heavy and aching.

  “You’re a beautiful man, Mr. Lansing.”

  “Shane, please,” he managed. “And thank you.”

  “Tell me about these activities you and your wife enjoy together.”

  “We love to make new friends. Especially those who share our desires.” There. He’d put their cards on the table. Maybe he’d moved too fast, but if they didn’t get this over with, he was going to mortify himself by coming all over the table, no matter who was watching.

  “Your desires, hmm? You like to play with others?” Giorgio inquired, doing Daisy’s feet.

  “Oh, yes,” she answered, voice husky. “But we usually have to visit some far-away resort to satisfy our needs.”

  “Lucky for you both, that’s no longer true,” Ivana said.

  Shane squirmed, needing release. “How so?”

  “Giorgio and I run a group here at club, made up of sophisticated, likeminded people like yourselves. I’ll leave a card on the counter and if you’re interested, join us tonight at eight. If not, no worries.”

  “Thank you. We’ll definitely think about it.”

  They had their fish. The rest of the massage passed in glorious torture. His rod refused to wither, and he was mortified when Ivana had him turn over onto his back and his erection made a tent in the sheet. But he had to pretend his arousal was nothing new since he was supposed to be sexually free-spirited. The entire time Ivana was ministering to him, she cooed like a dove as she spoke, making soft noises and movements that heightened his desire to the point of pain.

  He worried that she’d actually touch him. Stroke him. Because if she did, he’d go off like a rocket whether he wanted to or not. But she must’ve valued her job enough not to cross that line, assuming the fun would be had later tonight, when she and Giorgio reeled in their new couple.

  “Was that nice?” she asked, wiping her hands on a towel.

  “Yes, more than.” The answer was sincere.

  “Good. The card is on the counter. Show up if you both want, no pressure. Dress and come out when you’re ready and we’ll have a bottle of water for each of you.”

  She gave him a sultry, knowing smile. Then with that, she and Giorgio left, closing the door behind them with a snick. On his back, Shane panted in agony. Flinging off the sheet, he fisted his erection and stroked.

  “Ooh, that’s quite a problem you have there. Need some help?”

  Turning his head, he looked into Daisy’s smiling face. “Oh, God, please! Grab some of that oil.”

  She did, and popped open the cap. Then she drizzled some over his cock. The slippery liquid made it even better, and he sighed, pumping. When Daisy’s hand closed over his and stroked with him, he didn’t last two seconds.

  “Ahh!” Creamy ropes of come spurted all over his abs and chest, again and again until he was satisfied and humming.

  “Better?”

  “Much. I made a mess, but it serves them right.”

  Daisy snickered. “It does.”

  “Can I return the favor?” He raked her toned, naked body with a slow, appreciative look.

  “Mmm, why would I turn down such a delicious offer?”

  “Then get back on that table and let me make those pretty eyes cross.”

  “Brag much?” she teased.

  “I’ll let you be the judge.” With a wink, he took her hand and helped her sit on her table. “Scoot to the edge. Like that.”

  He was so turned on by the way she looked, lying on her back, her sweet, round butt parked right at the edge of the table. She was spread for him like a banquet, and he was a man who rarely turned down a feast on offer.

  Skimming his fingers through her trimmed tawny bush, he used his fingers to part the delicate folds waiting for his attention. Then he thumbed the sensitive nub of her clit, rubbing, loving the little whimper that escaped her lips, how she arched her hips to seek more.

  He dipped two fingers into her channel, easing them into her slick heat. Moving them slowly, he pumped, spreading her cream and watching her squirm with delight. She looked so damned fine he couldn’t stand it anymore, and cupped his hands under her ass, lifting her effortlessly to his mouth.

  First he tongued her slit, catching the dewy moisture. Her taste was addictive, sort of salty-sweet, all woman, arousing as hell. She writhed in need, thighs falling open wider, inviting him in. His tongue delved between the folds to sample the cream there, and moaned. Eating a woman was just about the best thing ever—next to burying his cock deep where he was currently savoring.

  Fastening his mouth to her, be began to suck and lick in earnest. As he’d hoped, the sensual assault made her unravel, his lover bucking and thrashing.

  “Yes!” she cried out. “God, yes!”

  Relentless, he kept lapping until she came apart with a shout, shuddering her release on and on. When at last she was spent, he lowered her gently and grinned in satisfaction.

  “You’re so responsive,” he told her.

  “Who wouldn’t be? You have a real talent,” she said with a breathless laugh.

  “And I’m all too happy to use it on you.” Grabbing the sheet, he wiped his mouth. “You’re pretty gifted yourself.”

  “What about Ivana? Would you have let her bring you off if she’d made the move?”

  Searching her face, he found no censure. “At that moment, probably. For one, refusing could have blown our cover. Mostly, I was just so fucking horny I had to come. Would you have let Giorgio touch you?”

  “Maybe. I wanted to be touched, for sure, but I’d rather it be by you.”

  That confession both pleased and frightened him. Moving on from her would’ve been easier if she’d just answered a resounding yes, that the Latin stud could have banged her on the table in front of him and she would’ve loved it. Even though he would’ve been tempted to beat the man to death.

  Maybe he should encourage them to play with others tonight, if things got that far. They weren’t a couple. Shane wasn’t relationship material, and the sooner she got that through her head, the better.

  He had a suspicion that planning such a sneaky thing where Daisy was concerned would be much easier than following through.

  Yeah, he was screwed. In more ways than one.

  • • •

  Daisy’s nerves were jumping as she waited for Shane to pick her up at her house. Every ten seconds she drew the curtains aside to peek out the window. And she remembered the erotic massage that could’ve gotten way out of hand with their lusty therapists.

  She hadn’t wanted that hussy’s hands on Shane once it became clear that their hunch was right. The woman had worked the detective into a state of arousal any man would’ve found impossible to resist. Thankfully, Ivana, or whatever the hell her name was, had left. Daisy had been more than happy to make sure Shane was satisfied before they made tracks. And boy had he seemed pleased to reciprocate.

  Checking her watch, she saw that it was seven-thirty. Just then, Shane’s big black pickup pulled into the drive. She went to meet him, locking up on her way out. He came around the truck and drew her into his embrace, then planted a searing kiss on her lips.

  “For good luck.” He winked.

  “We might need it.”
<
br />   After helping her inside, he shut her door and they were on their way. They rode in silence for a few minutes before she asked, “Has Chris come up with anything else on our alleged victims?”

  “Not yet. Their paths so far don’t intersect anywhere but at the club. I can’t help but think we’re missing something.”

  “Well, hopefully it will become clear when we meet the players.”

  At the club, Shane let the valet take his truck, figuring the department might as well pay for the niceties. Glancing at the card Ivana had given him, he read, “Suite 409, eight o’clock p.m.”

  “That’s a bare-bones invite if I ever saw one.”

  He nodded. “That way if the card gets lost, it’s got nothing incriminating on it.”

  “Not that what they’re doing is illegal, because it isn’t.”

  “No, just potentially embarrassing if people find out.” He paused, thinking as they walked. “You know, that’s a pretty good motive for making someone in this group vanish—the harm it could do to the social standing of their friends and family members.”

  “But four people? I don’t think those families ganged up on their loved ones to halt their activities.”

  “Me, either. Just thinking out loud. But who would hate what they’re doing that much?”

  She considered that. “Their boss?” Shane chuckled and Daisy went on. “How about this: maybe they threatened to out someone in the group, someone who doesn’t want his participation getting public.”

  “Like a politician.”

  “Right, or a prominent businessman, or a priest.” An arrested look came over his face, then vanished. “What?”

  “Nothing. I almost had a thought, but I lost it. Here we are, anyway.”

  Shane knocked, and Ivana opened the door, smiling happily as she invited them inside. Whatever scene Daisy had envisioned, the reality was quite a bit tamer. At least at first glance. The room was a large suite complete with a living room, kitchen, and a wet bar. There was also a master bedroom visible through one doorway.

  “Nice,” Shane told Ivana. “Does your group rent the suite on occasion?”