by Tracy Ellen
Kissing my breasts while groaning again, Luke said, “Electrophysiology.”
When his hand slapped my ass, not once, but twice, I screamed at the unexpected burning sensation. Over the edge, my mind exploded with impressions of big, red handprints on each of my cheeks, branding me with stinging pain, even as his mouth and cock sent me flying straight up into a stratosphere higher than I’ve ever experienced.
We lay on our backs on the floor by the chaise, stunned. Well, maybe I was the only one stunned, but Luke was still groaning, too. We were both making little moaning, grunting noises and I started to laugh.
He chuckled and rolled to my side, gathering me in his arms. His hands lightly caressed over my butt. The stinging had already subsided.
I kissed his mouth tenderly, smoothing his hair off his forehead and smiling into his eyes. “Is that what you waited patiently to talk with me about before we had to leave?”
He smiled, but his hooded gaze was speculative. “I’m going to have to torture you, aren’t I, Princess?”
I nodded quickly and breathed out, “Yes, please.”
He watched with arms crossed behind his head when I got up on my knees and twisted from side to side to get a glimpse of my behind. His eyes moved slowly over my body when I reached back with both hands to rub my buttocks, wincing a little for effect and bouncing a bit, too. Like I said, nothing stung anymore, but Luke didn’t have to know that. The man loved my breasts and was on his way to a bachelor party. A little visual reminder to imprint on his brain of his fabulous girlfriend wouldn’t hurt anything.
On that note, I twirled. “Is my butt red? Is the spa staff going to suggest an intervention?”
There was a long pause. “You’re the one that’s five minutes late to their party. If you keep wiggling that ass in my face, you’re going to be much later.”
Laughing, I offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. His kiss was lingering, and he wasn’t teasing about the ass wiggling. He was semi-hard against my stomach again.
“I’ll hang with Reg until my game starts around midnight. Depending how it goes, I could be back sometime in the early morning, but don’t wait up. The game could last longer.”
“Okay. I don’t know when we’ll be back tonight, but I imagine it will be late anyway.”
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“I’m signing up for an early yoga class. We’re all meeting for a late morning brunch at Caesar’s Palace, and then the rest of the day is girl stuff until I see you at the wedding.”
He kissed me swiftly, releasing me to get redressed. I touched up in the bathroom quickly, and swung my purse on my shoulder.
Luke was waiting by the open door and handed me one of the room key cards. “If I’m not back before your yoga class, I should be here before brunch. After that, I’ll probably catch a couple hours rack time.”
“Have fun.”
“I just had my fun.”
“Me, too.”
We stood there smiling at each other. I shook myself, tiptoed to give him a peck, and caressed his cheek briefly.
I was halfway to Anna’s room down the empty corridor when Luke called out quietly, “Anabel?”
I slowed down and looked back over my shoulder in inquiry.
Arms crossed, he stood straight. “I love you.”
Swirling, I curtsied deeply. “And I you, my hand-is-mightier-than-the-sword war-god.”
He shook his head, and I laughed when his face flushed in pleasure, or was he blushing? He raised a hand to shoo me on my way.
Laughing, I called back, “And don’t worry, my ass is fine. You didn’t hurt me at all. Woo doggie, I loved getting spanked. My Turn can be all about the spankings!”
A voice cleared behind me and I swung around to face Betty Jasnik, Eric George’s mother.
Chapter XV
“Mack the Knife” by Bobby Darin
Sunday, 12/30
6:11 PM
Betty is a slender, attractive brunette in her mid-forties, but was frowning rather unattractively at the moment. The kid at her side was a miniature Betty, complete with identical frown. Her long brown hair was swept high in two pigtails and tied with curly ribbons. I recalled Anna saying the little sister’s name was Lucy.
Lucy’s blue eyes were round.
Betty’s blue eyes were wide.
I closed mine tightly.
I heard Luke’s low laughter, but didn’t glance back again. He’d go away faster if I ignored him. What was I thinking? Of course my Dark Prince hadn’t been flushing or blushing. He hadn’t been shooing me off, but warning me we weren’t alone.
“You love getting spanked?” Lucy demanded incredulously in a deep, carrying voice for such a skinny little kid. Still frowning, she glared up at her mother. “How come my spankings always hurt?”
Betty blushed to the roots of her hair and her hand lifted in a helpless gesture. “Lucy, it’s not like we beat you regularly.”
“Oh my gosh, where did you two come from?” I asked brightly, hoping to minimize my faux pas by diverting. “Betty, we met briefly at one of Stella’s showers but it was so crowded, we never got a chance to talk. I’m Anabel, Stella’s aunt.” I smiled at the girl. “Lucy, right? I love your hair and those ribbons are super cute.”
“Hi, Anabel. It’s nice to see you again. Yes, this is my daughter, Lucy.” Betty smiled pleasantly, playing along. “Lucy, say hello to Anabel.”
Pig-tails waved begrudgingly, but didn’t lose the scowl.
Betty motioned to a door off to the side. “That’s our suite. Aren’t the rooms beautiful?”
“Yes, they’re wonderful. The Bellagio’s a gorgeous hotel. This is my first time in Vegas, so I’m pretty excited to see everything.” I started walking towards Anna’s suite and they followed along at my side.
Catching Betty’s eye, I mouthed, “I’m so sorry!”
She smiled and shrugged, but replied out loud. “Yes, there’s definitely a lot to see in Vegas.”
For Stella’s sake, as this was to be her future mother-in-law, I was happy to detect a twinkle in Betty’s eye.
Lucy pulled on my arm. “Your spankings really don’t hurt? You really love them?” She said the last with a face screwed up in total disbelief. She looked me up and down. “Do you do really bad things or what? Aren’t you too old to get spankings?” Before I could reply, Lucy’s suspicious frown turned into opened mouth horror. She dropped my arm to clutch her mom’s and bellowed out, “Am I still going to get spanked when I’m that old?”
Betty shushed her daughter. “Lucy, I think Anabel was only teasing about loving spankings.”
I rushed to agree. “Your mom’s right, I was joking. I’m way too old for spankings.”
Betty smiled and patted Lucy’s head. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how old you are, good girls never have to worry about getting a spanking.”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed over at me while she weighed those words. I had to admire the kid’s suspicious nature. It gave me hope for the paternal DNA contribution in the making of baby Eartha Jane Jasnik.
“Yeah, but are you a good girl or a bad girl?” Pig-tails obviously wasn’t reassured by her mother’s words that she wasn’t going to get spanked for the next twenty years.
Laughing, Betty admonished, “Lucy, that’s enough. You’re being rude. What will Stella think if her flower girl is being impolite to her aunt?”
“Sorry, Anabel,” Lucy sang out instantly in the insincere monotone that kids used when forced by an adult to apologize. Hands clasped, she implored, “Please don’t tell Stella because I really, really, really want to be the flower girl.”
I had to laugh when her angelic, ingratiating smile showed off a gap where a front tooth was partially grown in. The new tooth had those cute jagged edges similar to a little saw blade.
“Hmm, I counted only three reallys. I’m not sure you really want to be the flower girl. Did you know that most girls who want to be flower girls say ‘really’ seventeen t
imes, at the minimum?”
“They do?” Lucy’s laughter trilled up and down the hall. She held up a finger and started counting. “Really, really, really…”
I was fast losing my post coital glow, but the kid wasn’t talking spankings anymore and we’d reached Anna’s suite.
As Anna opened her door with an exuberant greeting, I heard the faint ding of the elevator in the background.
Women are extremely talented conversationalists. With Betty, Lucy and I out in the corridor, the number of women in the suite couldn’t total more than nine. By the volume of noise flooding out of the open doorway, you’d think there were twenty. I easily counted more than nine conversations going on at once while still standing in the hallway behind little Lucy.
Pig-tails finally finished her convoluted explanation of why she was counting reallys to a confused Anna. I was about to follow the little girl into the suite when a gruff voice calling out my name stopped me in my tracks.
Actually, it wasn’t the voice calling my name that stopped me in my tracks, but hearing their names.
“Anabel Axelrod? I’m Detective Bobby Darin, Las Vegas Metro Police. Could my partner, Detective Ray Liotta and I have a moment of your time? We just need to ask you a few questions.”
‘Holy crap, male strippers are punking me!’ was my first thought.
‘Bobby Darin and Ray Liotta? For realz?’ was my second and third.
You’d think male strippers could come up with more original names, and trendier ones, too. Or maybe their paying customers were usually ladies in their fifties and up? I was afraid to turn around and see what they looked like, although, I had nothing against Ray’s acting, plus we shared the same birthday. And Bobby Darin was an old familiar in our house. We’d sung his hit song, Mack the Knife, all of our lives to torment Mac when she got too bossy.
The huge grin was wiped off my face when this Bobby Darin turned out to be a black woman in her late thirties. Built like a fireplug, she wore a tight black suit jacket, long pleated skirt, and no-nonsense black shoes with thick rubber soles.
Ray Leota held up a badge and I squinted at his name. Not that I needed to confirm he wasn’t the actor by the spelling of his last name. The detective was a handsome Asian man with twitchy hands. In contrast to the frumpy attire of his heavy-set partner, Detective Leota’s navy suit was expertly tailored to fit his thin frame.
“Yes, I’m Anabel. Ask me questions about what?” I replied to Detective Bobby, offering my hand to shake while closely watching her eyes. After growing up with Chief Jack, I knew policemen could suspect you were an ax murderer, but still start off an interview with that benign sentence, “We just need to ask you a few questions.”
“The police?” Lucy shouted, delighted. She tugged my T-shirt and grinned up at me. “I knew you were a bad girl. Are you going to jail now?” She shouted even louder back into the suite. “Mom, guess what? Stella’s aunt is going to jail!”
Anna took Lucy by the shoulders and moved her aside. Biting her cheek nervously, she glanced suspiciously from me to the two detectives and then back to me. “What’s going on, Junior?”
Detective Bobby replied first in a courteous voice that gave nothing away, “Ma’am, we’re detectives from Las Vegas Metro Police…”
“You’re what?” Anna gasped, hand cradling her baby bump protectively as the color drained from her face.
After being exposed to Chief Jack Banner’s tirades, my friend was brick-shitting terrified of the police.
Anna was rattled. “Junior, why does CSI Las Vegas want to talk to you?” Eyes huge, they veered anxiously over to me and then flitted down the hallway while she asked hopefully, “Are we being punked?”
“No, but hey, that’s exactly what I thought at first. I don’t know why they want to speak to me,” I added pointedly, “but they’re with the Metro Police, not CSI Las Vegas.”
I didn’t have to be psychic to read Anna’s mind. First NanaBel’s cancelled flight, and now the police were here to take her maid of honor to jail. If she caught Reg in bed with a handful of hookers, it would round out poor Anna’s worst wedding nightmares.
Glancing down at a paper in his hand, Detective Ray stepped closer to Anna. “Ma’am, are you Anna Johnson?”
Anna stepped back before she warily demanded, “Yes, I am. Who wants to know?”
Anna’s grin started flashing on and off. Her smile-frown-smile-frown thing was a tic that happened whenever she got extremely nervous. The shady grin made Anna looked guilty, not to mention the rapid two-faced effect was downright eerie when seen for the first time.
The detective eyed her carefully while he twitched his head towards the quiet hallway. “I’m Detective Ray Leota, and actually, we’d like to speak to both you and Ms. Axelrod.”
“Me!” Anna screeched out. Her frightened eyes wildly flickered up and down the hall, as if searching for an escape route. Voice faint, she motioned vaguely back into the suite. “But my bachelorette party is starting...”
Jazy crowded up behind Anna in the open doorway.
My sister’s eyes took in the scene and then lingered on the Asian detective while she asked slowly, “Hmm, what have we here? Looks like the kid was right; Bel and Anna have been bad girls.”
Detective Ray’s eyes widened as he took in Jazy’s curling dark hair framing her pretty face and the wicked glint in her big indigo blue eyes. The double MacKenzie dimples winked alluringly when she smiled. I was pretty bitter I hadn’t inherited the dual deformities in my zygomaticus major, but at least the dimples weren’t completely wasted on Jazy. She’d wielded them shamelessly on the male population since she was a toddler. Personally, had I been graced with such charming dents in my cheeks, I would have used mine on the entire human race, but that was just me.
Tre J met my eyes and then frowned ominously at the detectives as she crossed her arms over her bountiful chest.
The detective’s jaw dropped in awe when they moved over Tre’s voluptuous beauty. Interestingly enough, so did Detective Bobby Darin’s. Tre J was another woman who knew how to use her considerable assets of brain, beauty, and brawn.
“Should I call your lawyer?” Tre asked. Her serious tone almost convinced me that I had an attorney waiting around the corner.
Seeing Anna’s lips start quivering in distress at the mention of lawyers, I put a stop to the farce and took control.
Detective Bobby had regained her stoic face. That face didn’t move a muscle when I raised my brow her way, as if I was now considering Tre’s offer of a lawyer.
But she did flick an anxious eye and that was the only tell I needed to see.
I smiled brightly. “No need for my lawyer, Tre, but thanks.” I put my arm through Anna’s and shook her lightly. “The detectives just want to ask us some quick questions. No biggie, okay?”
Anna nodded, as she took a deep, relieved breath. She rubbed her forehead. “Okay, okay, no problem.”
“We haven’t done anything wrong and we’re not getting arrested,” I reassured her. Raising the bottle of water dangling forgotten from her hand, I smiled and ordered, “Now drink your water, woman, and stay hydrated.”
Anna rolled her eyes, but smiled bravely. Bringing the bottle up, she started chugging water like it was a cold beer on a hot summer’s day.
Detective Ray cricked his neck and cleared his throat. “Actually, there’s been a homicide.” Preening at Tre and Jazy first, he chuckled and informed us, “You ladies probably aren’t aware of this fact, but Nevada is a death penalty state.”
Jazy spun a finger and drawled, “Well, bully the fuck for Nevada.”
Anna choked and snorted, spraying water from her nose all over the front of Detective Smarty Pants.
At the unexpected shower, Detective Ray jumped back with an oath. He whipped out a folded handkerchief and started dabbing at the water sprayed on his immaculate suit. Detective Bobby raised a hand to hide her smile.
I knew there was no way any detective, regardless of how ca
lloused by the job, would approach us this way if the murder involved anyone in our group. Still, it was hard to keep my cool and not grab the closest one by the throat and demand, “Who was murdered?”
Instead, I pounded Anna on the back, gently closed the door of the suite in Jazy and Tre J’s faces after ordering them to call the spa that we’d be delayed a few minutes, and faced the detectives so I could get some answers.
Anna wheezed at my side while I addressed my comments to Detective Bobby. “We’ll help your investigation however we can. Is it okay to ask your questions here, or do we need to go down to my suite?”
Detective Ray was still dabbing and muttering, but Detective Bobby immediately reverted to business, “Yes, here should be fine. First, I want to be clear you’re not suspects at this time and the Metro Police appreciates your willingness to answer our questions.”
Anna and I nodded in unison.
She looked at me. “Hotel security footage shows at approximately 4:30 PM today you and Ms. Johnson used a restroom near the lobby before checking in, is that correct?”
Anna exhaled a horrified breath. “Oh my God, there are security cameras in the bathrooms at the Bellagio?”
“No, the cameras are located in the hallway,” the detective replied quickly, smiling slightly at Anna’s outraged countenance. Her phone vibrated and she held up a finger, turning away.
“Whew!” Anna snorted her disgust before whispering, “Dealing with the woman pooping a dead animal in that bathroom was bad enough. If I found out some security dudes were watching me pee…”
“Holy crap, Anna, it wasn’t a dead animal,” I exclaimed, grasping her forearm. “That woman in the other stall wasn’t just having a bad day, she was dead. That’s got to be why they’re questioning us.”
