by Jo Leigh
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I swear I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
“Good,” he said, pushing his two fingers into her like a little jackhammer as his thumb circled and circled her clit until she was gasping for breath. Until all the muscles in her body became taut.
And then he stopped.
She hit him in the chest. Hard. “Hey!”
He shook his head. “Do you really think I’m going to leave you like this? Huh?”
“No.”
“Well, then?”
She sighed. And lay back. “Okay then.”
He chuckled as he retrieved the box he’d taken from the armoire.
“What is that?”
“You’ll see. But later. Right now, I want you to close your eyes and relax.”
“I assume you want me to keep them closed.”
“Yes. Keep them closed.”
“It’s going to be wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked as she obeyed. “I’m going to love it, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and yes. Now, shh. Let it happen.”
She heard him futzing with cellophane, then more futzing with something she couldn’t identify, something torn, and then… “Oh, my.”
He laughed again, low, slow. But it was whatever was in his hand that had her squirming. The softest feeling in the world, like feathers, only better. A brush, only more delicate and heavenly, sweeping across her thighs, her belly. Unable to resist, she spread her legs and because he was so wonderful the brush went to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs then across the lips, then back to her belly. It was a sensual delight including the scent of sweet seduction. Almonds? Roses? Yes, and spices she wasn’t familiar with, but that made her sigh with pleasure.
For a long time, she felt suspended in a cloud. He painted her with magic dust and every part of her felt shimmery and tantalized.
When he took the brush away, she whimpered even knowing he was going to give her something more. Something better.
Another moment, and then his fingers were once more at the junction of her thighs. He parted her lips and rubbed her clit, only as he circled so gently it made her wriggle, there was something more, not just his finger. Oil. Warmth. A new scent, like flowers.
A moment later, she felt his breath on her breast, his moist tongue on her nipple. All the while he kept circling with that heat. It was just right, just hot enough to make things interesting, to make her slide right back to that magic space where coming was inevitable.
Her gasps were quicker now and he sucked her nipples, each one in turn, harder and harder until she was arching her back demanding more.
He never stopped rubbing her, even when she felt his knees push her thighs further apart, and his lips left her nipples wet and hard.
She grabbed his shoulders, grabbed the bed as she got closer and closer, her legs stiff, her toes pointed, and she was there…there…
“Oh, Bax.” She bucked as she came, as her whole body thrilled to the rise and release and before she could even catch her breath, there was more. There was Bax.
He lifted her legs and pushed them back in a move that stole the cry from her lips. He thrust inside her, hard and deep as he filled her with his cock, and she came again, which she hadn’t expected because she’d never, ever felt like this.
He pumped into her like a wild man and it was perfect. Amazing, and she didn’t care that it ached when her head rolled on the pillow because it was so good, so good.
She felt his arms tremble, heard his grunts as he took her, and that was it, she had to open her eyes.
He was over her, his dark hair wild, his eyes wilder, and the hunger he had for her distorting his face. Stripping the civilized veneer away and leaving the animal at her gate.
She wanted to touch him, to feel his muscles bulge and lick the sweat from his arms, but she was helpless, her body captive as he turned her into a madwoman.
She still quivered as he grimaced, as his thrusts became shorter, erratic. And then he cried out in a howl of purest pleasure as he came.
When he finally let her go, she was wasted. A puddle of goo without a coherent thought except that she couldn’t let this man go. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Not ever.
14
AS SOON AS MIA CLOSED the door behind Bax her smile faded and she turned to face her luxurious prison. If a person had to stay inside, this was surely the place to do it, but it was still inside.
The thing was, she felt fine. More than fine. The magic healing power of great sex gave her energy to burn. Talking about the case, having Bax truly listen and consider her opinions made her desperate to get out there, do something. Anything that would help.
So she couldn’t go out in person, but she could extend her eyes and ears over Manhattan.
First thing, a shower, which was no minor activity. Not when the shower in question had four different kinds of spray, from the big rainfall drops to a long vertical massaging spray to go up and down the spine. Then there was the soap and shampoo and conditioner and moisturizer, all of which were made by an astonishing family business upstate. Everything they made was full of herbs and aloe and all manner of good things which made the products and the lucky person using them smell as good as a person could.
She gave herself permission to linger, to let herself daydream about Bax. She pretended he was going to stay, that she was enough to keep him here. And that staying with her would make him so happy he’d forget all about Boulder and teaching. He’d write, though, with her as his muse. They’d solve crimes together and make love at the drop of a hint, and they’d love each other so much.
The picture she painted was perfect. Idyllic. Even though she understood it wasn’t going to come true, she wasn’t going to stop dreaming it until she had to. There was plenty of time to be sad later, when he was really gone. No use jumping ahead, starting the sadness now. This was the best part. When they were still in the discovery phase, and a person would have to be a masochist to miss this by filling her brain with things that might go wrong.
Today, she had Bax. She had her health. She had a world class suite to stay in. A job she loved. Friends all over the city. Family who adored her.
And to top it all off, she smelled good enough to eat.
As she dressed, she thought about what more she could do. Carlane would help, as usual. But first, Mia had to figure out a way to get a picture of Sheila Geiger. Bax would think of something.
“WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU need her picture for?”
Bax hadn’t left the building. He’d tried to find Nan Collins, but she wasn’t anywhere around, and she wasn’t picking up her cell. Danny Austen had agreed to meet him at two, Larry the massage guy at three, and he was waiting to hear back from Grunwald about the video he’d taken from Oscar Weinberg.
“Nothing illegal or immoral,” Mia said. “I just want to see if Carlane knows anything about her.”
“There were some pictures of her in that bunch we got yesterday. I’ll have Miguel send one over.”
“He can e-mail it to me.”
Bax gave her Miguel’s cell number. “Tell him what you want. He’ll get right on it.”
“He won’t think it’s weird? Some strange girl calling for a favor?”
Bax grinned. “Fishing, are we?”
“Who, me?”
“I may have mentioned your name to Miguel. And Grunwald.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing private or personal.”
“Then they don’t know you can’t keep your hands off me?”
He leaned back in his chair, debating going right back upstairs. “No, and they don’t need to. We’re professionals, Mia. We don’t gossip like schoolgirls.”
Mia gasped. “I’m shocked that you would lie to me like that.”
“Who, me?” he said, echoing her tone exactly.
“I have phone calls to make,” she said. “But no one up here would have any objections to you coming for lunch. Or a snack.”
“Tempting,” he said. “Very tempting.”
“If you knew how good I smelled, you’d be here already.”
Bax closed his eyes and moaned. “Stop.”
“Okay. Sorry. Be safe.”
Bax put his phone down, and briefly toyed once more with going up to 1406, but then he thought about the whiteboard and how things were finally taking shape in the investigation. The best thing he could do was keep the pressure on. Oscar knew he wasn’t kidding around. It wouldn’t surprise Bax if Nan was on to him, too. He agreed with Mia about Danny and Bobbi, but now that he had more information, his questioning might lead somewhere.
His day was chock-full of being a detective. But the minute he was off the clock…
IT WAS ALMOST NOON, and Mia had just called down for a big salad and iced tea as she waited for someone, anyone, to call.
Miguel had turned out to be a doll. He e-mailed her a bunch of Sheila pictures and threw in four of Nan as a bonus. Mia in turn had sent the e-mails to several concierges in hotels nearby with instructions to notify her immediately if either woman was spotted.
Mostly, she wanted to know what Sheila was up to. The woman was still pursuing her lawsuit with Hush even though she had no chance of winning. Perhaps she hoped Piper would settle, rather than go to the trouble of a trial.
But she’d also been the one who’d planted the Mexico seed in Mia’s head. Why? What did Sheila know about Mexico? She’d been married to Gerry at the time, so maybe she’d been in Mexico herself. There was no reason for Mexico to have been brought up at all, except to get someone in trouble. Maybe more than one someone.
Bax had said the pictures he’d gotten from the Geiger had numbered in the hundreds, and hadn’t been the kind of photos the tabloids paid for. So where were the rest of the photos?
Was it possible Sheila was the real blackmailer? That Oscar was in cahoots with her, and when Gerry found out, they’d decided to have him killed?
She wasn’t at all sure her shout-out to the concierge community would bear any fruit, but then, she knew damn well if there was a mystery afoot, the concierge gang would be all over it. They’d research, they’d dig, they’d cajole. Hell, she’d done it often herself. She’d never tried to solve a murder, but she had helped Dean Schaeffer, the concierge at the Mandarin, get out of a very tight spot by proving a guest who had checked in under a false ID was the one who had stolen thousands of dollars’ worth of antiques from the hotel.
She stared at the whiteboard, a veritable banquet of suspects, all of them with something to gain by Gerry Geiger’s death.
It chilled her to think one of them was a cold-blooded killer. That one of them had aimed a gun at her and pulled the trigger.
There was simply no way she was going to sit idly by and let the killer go free. It might be more difficult, being confined to the suite, but not impossible.
DANNY AUSTEN HAD a Bloody Mary for lunch. Bax had the strong impression that the drink was an attempt to ease some of the ache from last night’s excesses, especially after Danny had begged him to stop screaming. Bax figured he’d just whisper for the rest of the interview.
“There’s food.” Danny nodded gingerly toward the table by the couch, which was covered with platters of everything from fresh fruit to cold cuts to shrimp on ice. “Eat some.”
“Thanks anyway, but I need to ask you some questions.”
“I didn’t do it,” he said, wincing at his own words. “I told you.”
“Tell me what happened in Mexico.”
Danny’s head snapped up, which evidently was a mistake, given his moan. “Mexico?”
“Come on, Danny. You’re not in any condition to lie. So just tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Right. So that girl who died, that was just an accident.”
Danny stared at him, his bloodshot eyes full of fear.
“And, oh, how’s that being blackmailed working out for you?”
Danny tossed the celery stalk to the carpet, then swallowed the rest of his drink in three gulps.
“I know he’s got you on sleeping with guys,” Bax said. “But hell, that doesn’t seem like the biggest secret in the world. So what else does Oscar know?” Bax leaned forward. “What did Gerry Geiger photograph that’s got you so scared you’re willing to make this movie for peanuts. What kind of picture could be so damaging it could ruin your career?”
“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Danny said. “It’s not what you think.”
“Explain it to me.”
Danny looked at the picture on the wall. It was him, of course, smiling that famous smile on some red carpet. He sighed with a tiredness that Bax felt from four feet away. “You know, I think it wouldn’t be all that bad to have this career ruined.”
“MIA, GUESS WHAT?”
“Jenna?”
“Guess who’s sitting in the bar right this very second?”
“No. Is it Sheila Geiger?”
“It is. She’s three sheets to the wind, she’s got a large suitcase by her side, and guess who she’s with?”
“Who?”
“Okay, now I know you’ve hurt your head.” Jenna sighed. “She’s with her BFF Nan.”
“What?”
“Although from the loudness, I’m guessing they won’t be BFFs for long.”
“They’re fighting?”
“They are.”
“Jenna, this is huge. Keep watching them. Don’t lose them. Seriously. Someone will be right there.”
“Someone? Who—”
But Mia was already speed dialing Bax. Who didn’t answer. She hung up just as voice mail picked up. Then she dialed again. “Bax, Sheila and Nan are at the Algonquin bar. They’re arguing. It sounds serious. You have to get there before they leave. Follow them.
Now, Bax. It’s happening now!”
Then she hung up, not in the least sure what the hell she should do.
“Oh. Carlane.” She dialed her friend’s cell, pretty sure it was her day off.
“Hey, Mia.”
“Carlane, I need you to do something, so please, please tell me you’re not busy.”
“It depends what you mean by busy. I’m shopping for shoes I can’t afford.”
“In the city?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Nan and Sheila Geiger are both at the bar at the Algonquin. I can’t leave, Bax isn’t answering his phone and I can’t afford to lose them. They’re arguing, and I just know they’re going to bolt. Can you get there and follow them until I hear from Bax?”
“Holy crap, yes. I’m five minutes away. I’ll call you the second I make contact.”
“Okay, but be careful.”
Carlane dismissed her with a girly grunt, then disconnected.
Mia dialed Jenna. “Carlane’s coming. She’s going to follow them.”
“Mia, stop. I’m with a guest.”
She waited, not even a little patiently. The only reason she wasn’t going completely insane was that she had call waiting, so if Bax tried to reach her, he could.
And where the heck was he? She tried to remember what he’d told her about his afternoon. He was going to talk to Danny, then the masseur, then—
“Okay, I’m back. How long till she gets here? The tension in the bar is starting to get out of hand.”
“Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
“Nope. Not a word. There’s just much arm flailing and viciousness.”
“Look, I’m going to call Bax again. I’ll talk to you as soon as Carlane gets there.”
“Got it.”
Mia dialed immediately. After three rings, she gave up, staring at the phone as if it had betrayed her.
For the next five minutes, she paced the length of the living room, all the while trying to figure out what could have brought Sheila and Nan together. Was it because of the pictures? Bax had said there were a ton of Nan. Was Sheila trying to frame Nan? It made sense if Nan had been sleeping with
Gerry. But how would Nan know what pictures had been removed from the house?
The whiteboard wasn’t helping. Mia sat down, trying to find some calm. Even if Carlane lost them, so what? Just knowing that the two women were together and that they were arguing had to be a big plus. Despite being stuck in this room, she’d already helped. She had. It wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was another clue. They were starting to add up.
Her phone rang, which made her jump. Praying it was Bax, she flicked it open. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Carlane said. “I’m here.”
“Thank heavens. Are they still arguing?”
“They are. But, according to Jenna, things have winded way down. I don’t think they’ll— Wait, they’re going. One of them is going, at least. Nan. She just threw down some money on the table and she’s standing. Saying something to Sheila, and yep, she’s heading out.”
“Follow her! Please. And ask Jenna to call me. Thanks, Carlane, and keep your distance. She could be really dangerous. And call.”
She hung up, but not before Mia heard that rude noise again.
A few seconds later, Jenna was on the line. “Hey, what now?”
“Sheila’s still there?”
“Yeah. She ordered another drink.”
“Jenna, can you get away? I mean now?”
There was a long pause, which told Mia all she needed to know. “I’m sorry, hon, but there’s no way. We’re short staffed here and I’m on until at least six.”
“Okay. No problem. I’ll think of something.”
“I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“Okay, thanks. You’re a star.”
“WEINBERG, HE TAPED everything,” Danny said. “He set up these parties, brought the drugs, brought all the hungry pretty people he could buy. We were young and hungry, too, and he made us feel like we were family, you know? Me, Bobbi, Peter. We thought we were on a one-way trip to everything we’d ever dreamed of.
