Her small ringless hand reached towards the edge of the bed as if in readiness, beckoning. She slept, no sounds, no movement, as still as a picture—uncanny. He knew he himself was a roamer in bed, a wiggle-puss, a cover hog, never still. A thought entered his mind, and brought a smile with it. Their mating should prove interesting.
Thinking about that possibility became physically uncomfortable, noticeably in his lower anatomy. He stood up and paced the room like a caged tiger, stopping every few minutes to move the grimy curtain aside so he could survey the parking lot. There were only two other cars parked there—not surprising—and they hadn’t moved all night.
The first warming golden rays announced the coming of the sun as it rose over the desert hills in the distance. Soon highway sounds of long-haul trucks and traffic all heading somewhere could be heard. Time to move.
She came awake with a start. Her gaze located him and softened.
She was so lovely.
He was in big trouble!
Keeping his hands to himself when she’d stirred in her sleep had him sweating. Now with her awake, and moving her adorable, sexy body in tandem with his roving eye—or was it the other way around?—could prove to be his undoing.
No time!
Concentrate!
Big ugly sucker with murder on his mind!
Right. Got it.
Showers, breakfast and packing, then feeding the critters—it all took very little time with Ashley spurring them on like a drill sergeant. They gathered up the mess and headed for Rhett’s new house, where the housekeeper’s unfriendly glare impaled Ashley as he approached her. He could never see what Carrie liked about the woman, but they’d become close friends. Far be it for him to complain. Thank heavens he didn’t have to live with her.
Nonetheless, it took all his skills to persuade her to look after five cats, a turtle and two birds. Especially when the animals obviously didn’t want to stay behind without Crystal. The distinct yowling of “help” from a perturbed Daisy followed them as they hurried to the car.
“My God, that cat yowled ‘help.’” Ash quickly reversed out of the driveway, wanting to put space between them and the house, in case the old harridan decided to shut the roadside gates.
“I told you. But you didn’t believe me, did you?”
“Who would believe the bloody cat could make such a racket? I hope the old battleaxe takes care of them. She didn’t look too pleased.”
“Oh, she’ll be just fine. She’s not a battleaxe; she’s a dear. She has a heart of gold.”
“She does? I’ve certainly never seen it.”
“‘Cause you’re a man. She doesn’t like men.”
“You could tell that from the short time we spent with her?”
“Sure! I recognized the symptoms from inside myself. I’ve never liked men much, either.”
Chapter Seven
“Arnie, what’re you up to, coming in to work this late? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all evening.” Joey hid his anxiety behind a false friendliness. Losing sight of this man had made him very nervous.
The big lug lumbered up in his unpressed suit, the chokingly tight collar of his wrinkled shirt enclosing a tie so creased he’d have done better to leave it off. There were greyish bandages over his swollen nose that didn’t begin to cover the swelling around his eyes.
“Hey, Joey. Remember I told you earlier that I’d found out who done this to me? Well, I know where the face-wrecking bitch lives. Thought I’d pay her a short visit.”
“And I thought I told you to drop it. She’s the star here, for Christ’s sake, the Ice Princess. She brings in hundreds of people every night to see her show. You tell me, dumb ass, what’s the boss gonna care more about—your face or her moneymaking performances? Grab a brain, Arnie! She’s off limits! Don’t make me tell you again.”
“I wasn’t gonna hurt her none, just scare her a little.”
The whining tone angered Joey as much as his loss of control over the big jerk.
“The side of that building musta loosened some of the few lonely brain cells roamin’ around in your skull. We made a deal, Arnie. You promised you’d leave her alone.”
“I will, already. But I couldn’t find Parks. I figured for sure he’d be with her. Went to his fancy digs at the casino, but no luck. They musta skipped out together. I seen her show’s been cancelled here, too, so it looks like they split. I went back to the Parks and convinced his doorman to share what he knew about his boss’s travels. Looks like they’re headed for the airport.”
“Whaddaya think? They’re gonna wait around for you to bash their heads in? Let it go, already! Hell! You know she didn’t mean nothin’ personal with the bat. The dumb broad tried to protect one guy getting beat up by three big guys—that’s all.”
Funny, how Joey saw himself. The fact that he’d stood a foot shorter than anyone else at the altercation obviously passed him by.
“Nah, can’t do that. I’m heading for the airport too. You pulled me off her, but he’s fair game. Don’t mess with me on this, Joey. Somebody’s gotta pay for my face, and if you say it has to be him, then I’ll go along with it. After all, I figure the whole thing’s his fault anyway. Why’d he have to mess with your girls in the first place? See what I mean? So, this is what I’m gonna do. I’ll check at the airport to find out where they’re headed, and I’m on the next flight after ‘em. You understand, this is right up my alley. The boss has put me on search-and-kill jobs before, and I always get my man.”
The sweat forming on Joey’s back pooled and then began to itch. He had to warn Parks and Crystal. His thoughts ping-ponged back and forth. He had to think of a way out of this mess, a way to stop the inevitable. He drew a blank.
“I’m coming with you.” Joey frowned at Arnie. Surprise jolted both men, and it was hard to tell who was most affected.
“Why?”
“Why? Because. Because the boss told me to look after you.”
Arnie’s eyes narrowed, and the craftiness he tended to draw on, that made him a good man to have around for doing jobs no one else handled, emerged on his ugly mug. “The boss told you to look after me? What’s he care?”
“Hell, Arnie. He realizes you took a bad rap over the whole situation. He just wants to make sure you’re okay, that’s all, buddy.”
“Yeah?” Arnie thought for a moment. “That’s pretty decent of him, eh, Joey?”
“Yep, He’s a great guy.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go find the patsy and his goody-goody girlfriend—so’s I can settle the score once and for all.”
Chapter Eight
The Las Vegas airport, crammed with happy revelers all anxious to hit the gaming fun spots on the Strip and downtown, proved to be bedlam. Crystal, guided by Ash, headed to the nearest ticket counter. The next flight connecting to England included three changeovers, but Ash grabbed the remaining two tickets gladly. Even though there was a later flight that would get them there an hour earlier, he preferred getting Crystal out of town as soon as he could. Why hang around for Arnie to find them holed up in a waiting room?
Ash realized that even though Arnie looked and sounded like an idiot, he was a tracker and had a keen knack for solving puzzles. His reputation implicated him in many of the shadier deals around town. Most likely quite a few of the brutal attacks written up weekly in the papers could be laid at his doorstep.
The Parks boys had always stayed clear of the class of men who lurked in the background of the joint run by Joey and his kind. Getting mixed up in their private dealings could be dangerous, and they had no wish to run in the same circles. The Parks Hotel was on the level, aboveboard and as honest as a casino could be and still make money.
The eventual flights were tedious. Neither Crystal, who sat quietly the whole time, nor Ashley, who worried about leaving the Parks Hotel without Rhett to cover for him, were talkative.
His hand consistently grasped hers, and his arm tucked around her waist navigated them everywhere
together. She never left his sight except for personal emergencies. Simmering tensions hovered over the two, who were bleary-eyed by the time they stumbled into the first hotel they came across in London. Sharing a room with twin beds created no problem whatsoever. By the time he’d finished in the bathroom, she’d passed out under her covers.
He moved the table out from between their beds and shoved his closer, close enough that he could reach out and touch her. He lay down and glanced her way. A constricting wall of tenderness attacked his throat, while sweet jolts of sentiment swept through him. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, and he accepted that she’d become lodged in his heart so firmly that he’d never clear her out. His thoughts waged a war with the sleep waves hovering. His heavy eyelids battled and lost the struggle. Reaching across the short space, he dropped his arm around her waist and slept.
Early the next morning, Crystal gazed at her sleeping partner’s profile thinking she’d never seen a more attractive man. The chitchat at the hotel acknowledged Rhett, who eerily resembled his namesake in Gone with the Wind, to be the more handsome Parks brother, but she begged to differ. He stood taller, was more arresting maybe, but he was also haughty in a way that was off-putting. Whereas Ashley, a close double, was every woman’s dream man—good-looking but approachable, wealthy but fun-loving. And, whoa! He epitomized “sexy.”
How in the world could any woman trust this man for anything other than a momentary fling? She lay back and wondered how it would feel to have his hands on her, caressing sensitive areas, roaming over her body, touching places even she whizzed over so as not to produce any reactions.
Sometimes as she watched a romantic film the spasms created in her lower parts unsettled her and made her wonder about making love and what it would be like. But unfortunately, to do “it” properly a man was necessary, and that put a stop to her imagination.
No man! No way!
Not for her!
Until now…
She suspected it was important to get near him, so she crept over to his bed and lay down, cuddling her body as close as she could get. He shifted and mumbled a name. Not hers.
She slapped him.
“What the hell…!” He went from prone to crouch in a few seconds, and she went over the side. “What the hell?” he yelled again. “Did you hit me?” Disbelief spread over Ash’s face.
“Not really. I wanted to wake you up, but you had a spasm and pushed me hard.” She stayed on the floor hoping to make him feel bad. It worked.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I must have been dreaming.”
“I’m sure you were. Probably nightmares, about an ugly witch.”
“Hm, I don’t remember. Let me help you up.” He reached down and clasped her hand, pulling her gently towards the bed. “Were you frightened by something?”
Should she lay it on thick and pretend, or be herself? If she had any chance of reaching her goal and getting laid, then maybe she should go along. Did women actually play these scenes?
“I got a tiny bit scared. I thought I heard a noise, and I wanted to be closer to you.”
He cuddled her to him, her head cozy on his chest, and he lay back down. She tentatively placed her leg over his thigh, a posture that felt as natural to her as the fetal position to a baby. The protrusion sticking into her didn’t feel natural, though, and neither did the stiffness she felt taking over his body. One minute he rested back, snuggling her to him, and the next he became a sticklike figure full of tension and rigidity.
Everywhere!
She was getting to him. But why did he just lie there like a mannequin? Did she have to do all the work?
Her lips moved to where the skin on his throat morphed into the hair on his chest. She whiffled her nose like a bunny until she finally settled on a place to nip.
“Ow! You little devil!” He pushed her under him in order to angle over her. “You’re playing with fire, brat. You know that, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh!” She nodded her head, hoping the smile on her face invited, hoping she’d got it right.
Seems she did.
His lips zeroed in on hers, and with a groan he covered her mouth and her body all at the same time. Intense sensations blasted through her system. Not being able to breathe seemed unimportant.
Fever! That’s what it reminded her of. The debilitating weakness her system had experienced when she’d suffered pneumonia and her fever spiked to a hundred and three. Identical impressions entered her memory for fleeting seconds, then floated out again as her other senses took over.
She smelled the spicy cologne on his cheeks as he kissed her neck, nudging and angling her with his nose and mouth. The faint but pleasant tobacco aroma of his favorite cigarettes attested to the fact that it was Ashley Parks laying claim to her body.
His breathing reverberated in her ear. The low growly sounds spiked her blood pressure and shot electrical impulses from her overworked brain that attacked and weakened her ability to think.
Watching him, no longer an option from dilated pupils, stopped. Her lids closed over eyes darkened with desire. His hands, skimming her body, rubbed and caressed, distracting her. She loved the feeling as he encountered erotic zones and, with a gentle swipe of his hot palms or press of his nimble fingers, brought them to life.
Her skin felt clammy, sensitive, quivery, until he soothed and turned it to pure silk.
The wetness flowing waiting for his entry, gushed out of her, creating a powerful frustration he dealt with as his fingers searched and found entry.
Her trembling had him hesitating for seconds until she reached for him, her lips erasing his worry. She became aware that his body shook also, but not quite as much as hers. It was different, as if intense control forced his limbs to react. He glided over her, rubbing this way and that. Her mind lost function and pure instinct went to work.
Her breasts swelled from the attention of his lips as he kissed and played with them. Miraculous flutters, bordering painful, increased her pleasure, and she reacted by swiveling her hips, panting erratically, and praying for release from the intensifying reaction turning her insides to fire.
His growls increased, then changed to moaned whispers as if he had to connect with her spirit, not just her physical body.
“My God, you’re lovely. Your skin is velvet soft. I love your skin.” The multitude of kisses he scattered every which way proved that he did indeed appear to like her skin very much.
What do you say at a time like this, when talking clearly has become superfluous? She was never much of a talker. She whimpered a groan instead, hoping he’d be satisfied.
He wasn’t. “What did you say?” Persistence, she decided then and there, was not a great quality.
“I said, ‘Thank you.’” Would he get her sarcasm?
“You’re wet for me. I love your wetness, it’s—it’s inviting. Do you know how wonderful that is?”
Nope, he didn’t get it at all. She couldn’t help but play along. “Thank you. Consider yourself invited.” She kissed his shoulder and ran her hands over and down his damp back while shifting her hips upwards to verify the truth of her words.
“I don’t think I can wait much longer, sweetheart. I—God, I need you. But I want this to be good for you.”
“For heaven’s sake! I want you, too. I want you now, I…”
“Please! Plea…!”
His words broke off as he shifted and found his way home. The groan to follow was the lowest and loudest so far. She shuddered from the earthy animal sound that sent ripples of pleasure all over her body. She felt him enter her. The tight opening, gratifying for her—absolutely, but it must be affecting him in a way she didn’t understand. It was like making love to the sounds of an erotic chant. His harsh breathing and multiple moans increased, proof he loved the snug fit.
So did she! Holy heavens! So did she!
With each wriggling move, each push, her body’s adrenaline stimulated all her major organs until her sounds became pants
and whimpers to match his. Her brain shut off completely, and a slow unfurling of a sweet emotion began in her heart.
All that faded as a swirl of tingling contractions started in her lower regions, connected with the aching sensations from her breasts, and settled in the place where a slight pain came and went with hardly any discomfort.
He was home, and she welcomed him, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts and her arms clinging to keep him from stopping. One last meeting of their lips, as he kissed her so deeply that she felt as if he’d drawn her right into his soul, ended her virgin curiosity and lifted her straight to heaven, keeping her writhing there for long moments of pure joy.
They collapsed, joined together. Their damp skin slid over each other as they settled, nestling together, eyes closing.
His rustling movement to light up and the scent of his tobacco must have awakened her. He hovered near, peering at her through the tendrils of smoke.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His gravelly voice overflowed with concern, and he watched closely the emotions flitting through her eyes. As soon as she’d registered his presence, he’d seen her innocent pleasure, followed by swift recall and ending with blissful euphoria. She enchanted him.
Best of all, she didn’t look at all sorry.
It had been his major worry as he’d watched her cuddle close, sleeping the sleep of the innocent—or at least the recent innocent—thanks to him and his wicked ways. Should he regret he hadn’t taken more time to court her? Should he have waited until the furor had died down over Arnie, until life felt normal again?
Too late to worry about it now, he guessed. He’d had his way with her and, as soon as possible, he planned to have his way again. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, taking those seconds to let his mind wander.
Never before in his life had a woman turned him on the way she did. Her skin, like velvet on a rose petal, her body that never stopped moving and tantalizing, drove him insane, and her lips that drank all the love he had to give would haunt his dreams for many nights to come.
The Vicarage Bench Anthology Page 18
