by Ann Raina
Mrs. Hollander took a deep breath. The lines on her face were deep and tight. There were no words to express her anger. “Very well.” Her eyes became slits. “Your management lacks control, Mrs. Summerston, so I’m better off with never returning to this facility.” She turned on her heels and slammed the door shut behind her.
Lady Summerston leaned back in her armchair and turned to Patricia, who stood at ease close to the desk.
“I might be mistaken, but did you just threaten her? And what happened exactly? And don’t try to tell me you don’t know who the man was, right?”
Lady Summerston smiled broadly. Abruptly, she rose and took a happy stroll toward the bar in the corner. “Of course, I know who dunked her! Scotch? Whiskey?”
“The latter. Double, if you don’t mind.”
“Very well.” She talked while she poured drinks. “It was our former handyman, Matthew.”
“Really?”
“He shares a room with Eric Bletchley at the moment, and I bet Mrs. Hollander’s wealth he was pretty pissed when he heard what had happened.”
Patricia took the tumbler Katherine handed her. “Thanks. Guess that’s something we should drink to.”
“Indeed.”
“Which reminds me—”
“Oh, shut up, for heaven’s sake, shut up!”
Their laughter was heard through the door.
* * * *
If Jonathan Bellard worried for his agents abroad, his voice didn’t show. It was as concentrated as it was flat when Linda Bernstein reported the latest developments.
“We can’t nail Kamal or George to the killings,” she ended, frustrated. “It could be him since the description fits, but without further details, it would be vain to try and confront Kamal with the evidence. I tell you again, Michael Tessler is more interested in the ladies than in disclosing the enemy.”
“We need proof that the body belongs to Habib. I agree that his disappearance alone is not enough. Tell Michael to dig deeper. We need a DNA sample for comparison.”
“He should’ve brought that already.”
Bellard did not sigh, but his voice told Linda about his thoughts. “Michael works under difficult circumstances. If I got it right—and I think, I did—there is no guarantee he can enter the basement safely. If his relationship with Alyssa works out, that will change.”
“Hopefully. Alyssa’s background?”
“Born in Virginia. Daughter of a thief as father and a hard-working mother. Very intelligent yet withdrawn. Few friends. Moved to the East Coast after college. Worked on several jobs, but never for long. Mr. Summerston hired her, obviously because she applied for the job. She has no criminal record and pays taxes on time. We’re still on it.”
“Thanks. Anything else?”
“When’s your date at the wellness farm?”
“In a week.”
Bellard wished her goodbye and Linda swore she heard him chuckle before he hung up.
Chapter 13
Michael watched Eric prop up on one arm when he left the bathroom after a long, hot shower. He hadn’t been completely dressed in twelve hours, which was a record even for him. He put on his boxers—the ones with the little pigs on them—and walked to the closet.
“What happened last night, Matt? I was so worried for you.”
“Yes, I know. I hope, the guards told you?” He made it a question. Eric had still been upset after his return in the early morning. Both had only slept for a few hours.
“They did, with a grin.” He shook his head, worry clear on his face. “If this happens again, I’m gonna wipe their faces in the dirt.”
“Dirty Harry speaking?” Michael grinned and put on a blue polo shirt and jeans. “It was a rough start, but a better night.”
“Indeed?” Eric’s face showed all eagerness he could muster being still in pain from his rough handling. He sat up. “What did she want from you?”
“The fulfillment of a dream she had for long. But I ruined it.”
“You ruined it?” The high lilt at the end indicated Eric couldn’t credit his ears. “What did you do?”
“I laughed.” Michael slipped into blue loafers and went back to the bathroom for his perfume.
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. I tried to keep it in, but couldn’t.” He returned to find Eric on his feet, still somewhat awkward, but at least moving around. Loose boxers and jogging pants covered most of the welts.
“She was pissed with you, I suppose?”
“For a moment, yes. Then she had the time of her life—her words, not mine. A happy customer, so to say. Do you join me for breakfast or is sitting still not an option?”
“Very funny.” Eric cocked his head and kept Michael back when he turned for the door. “Wait a moment. I need to talk with you.”
Michael raised his brows.
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but…” He weighed his head, biting his lips. “See, I have my reasons to be here. I can finally be someone aside from just being the son of my parents. I sell my body, but that’s fine with me. What kind of crazy shit have you got running?”
“What do you mean?”
“Matt, don’t gimme that crap! You’re a nice guy, but there’s nothing sleek about you. You don’t boast with your abilities, you don’t show off with your jewels. Hell, you don’t even talk dirty!”
“Is there a point to your rambling?”
Eric was dead serious. “Yes, there sure is. You don’t want to be here.”
“But I do.”
“No, you don’t. You’re here, right, and you do your job pretty damn well. But that’s not all of it. I’ve been bunking with you for a week and haven’t even seen you naked.”
“If that’s a point of criticism, I guess we could change that. But no touching.”
Eric sighed, frustrated, and put his hands on his hips. “Matt, how can anyone be so shy and secluded and run the girls wild at the same time? You don’t even want to talk about yourself.” Before Michael could protest, Eric went on, “When we talked at the bar, you changed subject the moment it came to your father. Is there some dark secret? Something in the family you don’t want to reveal?”
“Nothing illegal, if that’s what you mean.”
Eric shook his head about Michael’s defensive tone. “Listen, I don’t want to pry into your life, okay? I just tell you this as a friend—we all know things about each other and we all have reasons that brought us here. The others think you’re a kind of freak since you don’t even try to make contact and exchange some trivial stuff.”
“There’s talk about me?”
“Yes, Matt, the boys are chatterboxes and in here nothing remains a secret for long. It’s like a mixed family with different backgrounds. Just doing your job and be taciturn to the rest doesn’t work.”
“I’m not here to socialize with them.”
“Fine with me, but I just wanted to let you know.”
“They’re checking me out?”
Eric nodded. “We do a job that’s questionable in some places. They wanna know if they can trust you not to spill the beans.”
“I’m no prattler. And it wouldn’t give me any advantage to tell about their occupation. Which is mine, too.”
Eric lifted his brows and shook his head slightly. “That’s not the way they see it.”
Michael cocked his head, considering his options. Being undercover meant to talk the least about you to avoid mistakes in your agenda. If your alias is to hold, details have to be limited. Michael had not thought about curiosity or doubts of others. He did not feel obligated to spread his life—invented or not—in front of strangers. However, distrust in him could trigger closer investigation. Either way, he had to make a choice.
“Patrick boasted about your brawl at the bar,” Eric went on when Michael remained silent. “He thinks you’re some Far East fighter student. Jiu Jitsu, Tae Kwon Do or whatever. The longer he tells the story, the more the guys were bruised and battered. Next time he’ll say they ended u
p in the ER of the nearest hospital and barely survived.”
“I just defended myself.”
“Yes, but you only got scratches.” Eric kept Michael in his stare. “Matt, you’re one nice guy and you saved my ass. That’s why I’m talking to you. I defended you against Patrick’s assumptions. I said that you didn’t need tell anyone what you did before. I mean, you were a handyman. You got a sis you take care of and you seem to be the most normal guy around. Compared to Pat, for example, who comes from parents with a criminal record that’s worth a TV show all of its own. But as long as you stay for yourself and don’t fraternize with the others, they’ll think of you like a kind of spy.”
Michael grinned. He couldn’t help himself. “Sorry, Eric, I know you do this for my benefit, but that’s just hilarious. Hey, I was glad to get a chance to earn more money. I’m not into spy biz and I won’t tell no secrets about the others. Not even about Jason, who likes to be roughed up and beaten for the fun of the ladies. Though—if you want my two cents—I think that’s some weird fetish.” He took a deep breath. “I’m grateful for your concern, but it’s not like I want to sit with the others and chat about my life. I did some things I’m not proud of and I wouldn’t share them with others. Not yet anyway.”
“You could trust me. That’d be a start.”
Michael slapped Eric’s shoulder. “You already know more about me than I think is good for me.”
“About your nocturnal activities?” Eric flashed a grin that the white of his teeth showed in all splendor. “That you talk about busts and how you like to be taken?”
“If you keep that to yourself, I’d be most grateful.”
“Last night it was some strange stuff about reports and agendas and a girl named Linda.” Eric frowned. “Somehow you seemed scared of her.”
“Why do you know all that?”
“I’m a light sleeper. Wake with every mouse tapping through the room.”
Michael’s hand dropped. “Great you tell me these things. Maybe I should’ve sent you to your room sooner.”
Eric flinched. “I won’t tell no one, Matt, you know that. It was just a joke at your expense.”
“And who else knows about me talking in my sleep?”
“No one.”
“A minute ago you told me all the boys were chatterboxes.”
“I didn’t tell them about your morning erections.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I was.” Eric shook his head, insecure how to take Michael’s lightness. “Have you always been with women on such a regular base?”
“I had my share. Do you want to come for breakfast now or stand and chat for another hour? My stomach’s rumbling.”
Eric grabbed a light blue pullover, wide enough to fall loosely around his body. “You didn’t say what happened to you after you laughed into your lady’s face.”
They went for the door and downstairs.
“She wanted to play seduction. I pretended she’s the most beautiful girl in town. That got her all the way.”
Eric slapped Michael’s arm. “Come on! I didn’t make my little speech for nothing, okay?”
Michael grinned. “Let’s say she got what she wanted and was very, very satisfied in the end.”
“A good story cut too short. I bet, she didn’t get all you’re capable of.”
Michael cocked his head. “That might even be true.”
All and then some was what Alyssa wanted. Michael knew it the moment he crossed the threshold of her house. She had that amused sparkle in her eyes that barely covered desire and, beneath it, hunger. He was overwhelmed and could not breathe as if her aura of intense lust for sex was a wall he had to pass before he got to her. Alyssa devoured him in the hallway with a kiss that defined greed in a new way and he lost his jacket and shirt on the way to the bedroom.
“The blindfold,” she mumbled, her lips an inch away from his.
“No, Al, no.” Michael kept her from his mouth long enough to say, “You don’t need this. Take it slow, okay?” Then she was on his lips again, taking him, nipping him, pleading with eyes so big he squinted. He took her shoulders to gain space. And, admittedly, to breathe again. “Alyssa, please, this time I’m off duty. There’s plenty of time.” He took a deep breath. “And I want to enjoy this. All of it. Do you understand?”
She pouted even more. “Why? Last time you couldn’t get on me and into me fast enough!”
“Yes, but there’s no need for it to be like that every time.”
“I liked it.” She took a step back. “You spoil the fun.”
He wet his lips, searching for words to soothe her, but keep his skin on his bones as well. Alyssa was the dream of every man. She wasn’t only good looking, she was desirable and full of vigor. While she sat on the bed with a pillow in her lap, he took in the room. The main color was a light green. Bedspread, drapes and carpet fit together. Bed and nightstand created a sharp contrast the color of old oak. Floral designs on the wallpaper added a touch of playfulness. It could have been a girl’s room and he wondered if he misinterpreted her behavior completely.
“You got a nice house, Al. I like it.”
She tilted her head and looked around as if she saw it with his eyes. “I made this stuff. I mean, I sewed the curtains and covers.”
“You’re talented.”
“If I can’t sleep, I do needlework.”
He leaned on the bed to kiss her lightly on the lips. “You amaze me every time I see you.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.”
He cocked his head to look into her eyes. “It wasn’t meant ironical.”
“Mine was.” She put away the pillow and pulled him down on her.
He crawled on the bed to straddle her body.
“I want to fuck you, Matt, so skip the small talk and let me into your pants.” Her hands already worked on the zipper.
He swallowed and turned his head away, not knowing what to say. Which part of no didn’t you understand? He had no choice. She ignored that he didn’t respond immediately.
“The concept’s pretty simple. I want you. Now.” She grabbed his crotch. “Don’t tell me I can’t get you hot.”
“That’s out of question.”
She smiled. “See?” She pushed his pants down his buttocks. The underwear went with it.
“But is that all that you want?”
She grinned mischievously. “For the moment, yes. And I want this—” She pulled a blindfold out of the back pocket of her jeans. “Over your eyes.”
“You don’t need this to arouse me, Al.”
She mimicked his tone. “Oh, that’s out of question.”
“And if I don’t want it?”
She fit the blindfold over his eyes. “No bet.” Alyssa giggled as she pushed him flat on the sheets. “Lie down and no touching.”
“No touching? Alyssa, are you out of your mind?”
She pushed away his hands. He struggled to get close to her and amid giggling, warnings and a bit of pushing and shoving she sat on him and held down his arms. “I won’t take you to heaven if you don’t do as I say.” His pants and underwear fell on the floor then her warm hands were on his body, caressing the long sides of his ribcage. She wriggled until he spread his legs to grant her access to all parts of him. She explored his body leisurely. “Keep your hands away from me,” she growled, mouth hovering over his length.
“Alyssa, what kind of game is this? I want to touch you. Please! Pretty please!”
“Later.” She kissed his soft flesh from the belly button down to his crotch. “Relax.” Her hands lay on his hips, thumbs massaging toward the middle. “Have you never had a woman that took command over you?”
Michael grinned. “Guess who told me about bondage?”
“Ah.” Alyssa laughed, a cheerful, happy sound. “So your little speech was based on a woman’s knowledge!”
“No.” He exhaled and gave in to her caressing, knowing he couldn’t change her mind. “I read a lot. She expected
me to know.” He laughed quietly, looking back in time. “Women think that men know on the spot what they want.”
Alyssa’s tongue cruised around his glans sensuously. She watched Michael’s arousal build from his head down to his toes. He balled his hands into fists then opened them again as if he didn’t know where to send his strength.
“You know what women want, Matt,” she cooed. “That’s your gift.”
Michael made a sound in his throat that urged her to go on without words. Her smile widened.
“You know what they want and how they want it. Spread your arms over your head.”
He took off the blindfold to squint at her. “You want to bind me? But last time—”
“Last time you had only a few minutes.” She touched his brow so he lay down flat again. “This time I promise you heaven.”
He grinned. “More than the last time?”
“Please, Matt.”
He looked at her, undecided what to do. It was clearly not in his plan to be tied up and helpless for the best part of the evening. She read in his face and sighed.
“You know, I have this dream of perfect control.”
“So?”
Alyssa wet her lips. “I’d like to live it, but my life’s constantly out of control, never having a distinct way I could follow. Rolling. Sliding. It’s been like this since I was a kid.”
He sat up, facing her. She looked lost and he wanted to hold her, but knew if he did, she would stop talking. “You feel like being on a roller coaster, hmm?”
“Something like that. You’re different.” She flinched as if it was an effort to tell him the truth. “You make me feel good. Really good.” She wanted to keep him with her all of the time so that he was there when she needed him, but she didn’t say it.
“I can be a constant, you mean.”
“In a way, yes.” She kissed him gingerly, searching his face for agreement. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Let me take control over you. Tonight.”
“Is that an offer?”
“A request more likely. You wouldn’t have control left over you.”
He made a decision, but it cost him. “I follow your command.”
