Green-Eyed Monster

by Gill McKnight

  “Please, Victoria,” she whispered. “Don’t torture me.” Victoria sat upright and undulated her sex across crisp curls.

  Mickey gasped, her hips surged trying to make a connection for her pulsing clitoris, but her thighs were restricted, pinned torturously together.

  Victoria was determined to increase the torture. She reached for Mickey’s twitching hands, lying on the pillow on either side of her head, and clamped them onto her own breasts.

  Mickey’s eyes flew open. Automatically, her fingers began to greedily knead the beautiful creamy flesh spilling onto her cupped palms. She massaged lustily, pale pink nipples peek-a-booed between her fingers, teasing her until she ached to kiss and bite and suck them. They were both groaning now. Victoria held Mickey’s hands in place as she ground her hips and rode out her pleasure.

  Eyes wide open, greedy hands full, Mickey decided the rules were broken and the game was now officially over. Thus justified, she rolled Victoria onto her back and rested snugly between her open thighs. Quickly kicking off the offending boxers, she grunted as she arranged her outer lips, at last making sliding contact with Victoria’s engorged clitoris. Leaning forward, she captured her lover’s gasping mouth, only releasing their bruised lips to draw breath.

  She sensed Victoria approaching orgasm, and she reached down between their hips and steadily pushed two fingers deep inside her. She swirled them on the long, slow slide in, stroking the inner walls all the way along, giving a sensation of complete fullness. Satisfied by the small grunts and puffs that told her Victoria was comfortably filled, she began to stroke in and out.

  Victoria cried and arched into her hand. She opened wider to give Mickey more access, feet planted firmly on the thin mattress for leverage.

  Mickey’s thumb grazed across her clitoris causing another throaty cry. Mickey watched the passion ripple across her face.

  On and on her fingers slid, each thrust greeted with a deeply delicious moan.

  “I’ve dreamt of you every night,” she murmured in a pink-tinged ear, her thumb stroking softly across the swollen clitoris.

  “Stay with me,” she whispered her secret need.

  Victoria did not register her words; she was floating in her own world. She gave up trying to kiss, or hold, or stroke the woman above her, and simply surrendered to the rippling waves of orgasm that washed over her again and again, pulling one long, ragged cry of ecstasy from her screaming lungs.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Mickey whispered as she watched Victoria crest.

  ❖

  BJ’s and Ginette’s heads jerked simultaneously. The animal cry of raw release roared out from the open fore hatch and ripped the night apart. BJ looked at Ginette in shocked alarm, as if misunderstanding what she was hearing.

  Oh, way to go, you horny sluts! Ginette thought, disgusted.

  Blow our cover completely, and leave me up here with the angry gunslinger to try to explain. She turned to BJ with her best full-on smile.

  “My. Now there’s a whole new slant to coming onboard.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You two! Up here now.” BJ bellowed through the cabin hatch. “All three of you got some explaining to do.” She’d had it with these stooges.

  Grimly, she sat beside a silent and very tense Ginette, her hand resting on her Glock. A few minutes later, two flushed, incredibly shamefaced women seated themselves opposite.

  Ginette threw a hard, unforgiving look at both of them, taking in the rumpled sleepwear and guilty faces. Victoria looked everywhere to avoid Ginette’s stare, while Mickey became fixated on her own feet.

  “Spill.” BJ folded her arms, commanding everyone’s attention. “Who the hell are you people? What the hell’s going on here?”

  Mickey and Ginette both turned silently toward Victoria.

  “Great. It’s always up to me to sort everything out.” She flung her hands up in disgust. The other two rolled their eyes at each other.

  “If you’re gonna wear the general’s stripes, you gotta run the war,” said Ginette.

  “First”—Victoria jabbed a finger in BJ’s direction—“get rid of the hardware. I’m not telling you anything as long as that gun’s lassoed around your neck.”

  BJ gave her a measured look. She quickly surmised there was no denying the request, not if she wanted answers from this stubborn, shady trio. Slowly, she slipped the semiautomatic from her neck, setting it carefully on the seat beside her. She sat back and waited.

  Victoria took a deep breath and began to explain in one huge rush. “I am Victoria Gresham and I came to Cayman Brac on the trail of Michaela Rapowski, who stole all my…private funds, with the aid of my ex-girlfriend Ginette Felstrom, who nearly killed me in a cabin fire that Michaela Rapowski subsequently rescued me from before disappearing to…well, Cayman Brac.” She finally took a breath. “And there you have it. Right cast, wrong script.”

  BJ blinked. “You’re not Officer Rapowski?”

  “Nobody’s Officer Rapowski,” Mickey said. “I was never a federal agent. I worked for the Financial Crime Enforcement Network as an analyst but left over a year ago. I helped with an unresolved investigation into businesswoman Victoria Gresham’s supposed laundered assets. I then used that information to set up a sting. And I used Ginette Felstrom, Victoria’s ex, to gain an entry point.”

  “Sweet,” BJ said dryly. “So tell me who you are, not who you ain’t.”

  “Mickey Rapowski, kidnapper, swindler, and thief.” BJ next turned to Ginette. “And who are you?”

  “Oh, I’m Ginette Felstrom all right, and I’m a victim of these two, just like you. I was dumped by her”—she pointed at Victoria—“and double-crossed by her.” She singled out Mickey.

  “And now I have to be nice to everyone in order to get my life savings back.” She managed to sound simultaneously flirtatious yet outraged at the injustice heaped upon her.

  BJ shook her head slowly. “So between the lot of you, I got a tax embezzler, a kidnapper, and an arsonist, at the very least. My, how’d I get so high up in the world? If my mama could see me now—”

  “And what about you, Officer Jack?” Ginette interrupted.

  “What have we got with you?”

  BJ grinned. “You got a pirate.”

  “Oh, perfect.” Victoria slapped her hands on her knees.

  “Absolutely perfect. We’ve got Blackbeard onboard. And just what does a pirate want with Victoria Gresham?”

  “And where’s the rest of your gang?” Mickey threw a furtive look around the horizon. “Pirates don’t work solo.”

  “The rest of the crew are arriving later this morning, after I fix the radio and call in our position.”

  “But what do pirates want with Victoria?” Ginette repeated Victoria’s question.

  BJ shrugged. “A ransom. All them millions she’s got stashed away.”

  “What millions?” shrieked Victoria, pointing at Mickey.

  “She’s got all my millions. Kidnap Rapowski. Leave me out of it.”

  “Well, we thought she was you.” BJ frowned, still a little lost in the maze of twisted identities.

  “We?” Ginette asked.

  “My uncle Rudy, he’s the boss.” BJ came clean, caught up in the need to try to make all this mud as clear as possible.

  “Rudy? As in my hotel manager Rudy? Scumball. Setting me up like that. Selling me out.” Mickey was beside herself with outrage. “I pay his freaking wages.”

  “Hey.” BJ frowned. “He’s the only scumball in my family to hold down a nine-to-five.”

  Victoria swapped glances with Ginette. “He’s also our informant. Rudy’s the guy who sold Ginette all the details of your movements before we came down here.”

  “Told ya. Scumball,” Mickey said.

  “I was making inquiries all over the place trying to trace her.” Ginette pointed accusingly at Mickey. “He must have figured his new boss was the tax evader Victoria Gresham using an alias. Half the underworld knew FinCEN were after her
when her money went whizzing round the globe so openly.” She shrugged away the bad luck of it. “Rudy did good research. A little bit off center, but kudos.”

  They all looked at her as if she was insane.

  “Hey, credit where credit’s due,” she said. “After all, the man found a link between Rapowski and Gresham. And then sold it to us. That’s good work. Okay, so he jumped the wait list and tried to kidnap her for his own gain. But I got nothing against the guy for going after her.” She jabbed a finger in Mickey’s direction.

  “Except he thinks I’m her.” Mickey nodded toward Victoria, scowling at Ginette’s stupidity.

  “Is there anybody involved who isn’t a double-crosser?” Victoria asked in exasperation. Silence followed.

  She sighed. Negotiations were going to be tricky.

  “So what happens tomorrow morning?” she asked BJ. “How does all this work?”

  BJ frowned. “I don’t really know much because I’m sort of lowly, like a cabin boy sort of thing. In fact, I only got dealt in because I’m family and trying to pay off my student loan. But as I understand it, she”—BJ pointed at Mickey—“has been kidnapped by me. And a ransom demand has been made to Uncle Rudy, by himself.”

  Mickey sighed as she guessed the rest. “Which he’ll pay immediately—to himself. In a brown paper bag, I bet, without contacting the police as per the ransom demand.” It all sounded so familiar. She should have patented the formula.

  “As we speak, he’s happily emptying your office safe and business accounts. But he wants more than the immediate cash, he wants the rest of your dirty money, and he knows it’s stashed away somewhere semilegit.”

  “And then what happens?” said Victoria. Everyone was being very free and easy with her money here.

  “Mmm.” BJ looked rather contrite. “I think he comes out here, tortures you for the rest, then kills you.” This was greeted with absolute silence.

  “Oh,” Mickey said. “Kudos. Credit where credit’s due,” she quoted, glaring mockingly at Ginette.

  “I wonder which one of you he’ll torture first,” Ginette said, looking innocently from Victoria to Mickey.

  With a lingering, spite-filled glare in Ginette’s direction, Mickey turned to Victoria, slightly panicked.

  “If there’s gonna be any torture, let me still be you, okay?” she said.

  “Ha,” Victoria guffawed. “What happens if he pulls your hair? You’ll spill like a kicked bucket.”

  “Okay, fine. So we’re all gonna die.” Mickey flung her hands in the air. “We’re shark fodder.”

  The words had an almost magical effect on Ginette. “Shark fodder, my shiny white ass,” she screeched.

  Leaping to her feet, she grabbed the Glock and took a stance on the cabin roof, where she glared defiantly down into the cockpit at her companions. They all froze.

  Victoria was the first to speak. “Careful, Ginette, point it in the air, in the air.”

  “Yeah,” said BJ with an anxious frown. “It’s a hair trigger, and the safety catch is—”

  “Don’t tell me what to do with a gun,” Ginette seethed. She was sick and tired of all this danger, and drama, and no money.

  “You forget I’ve had private lessons at an exclusive Boston gun club. I know exactly what to do with a firearm like this.” And she hurled the thing overboard.

  BJ’s jaw dropped faster than the gun on its way to Davy Jones’s locker.

  “My gun. My beautiful Glock. It was a Christmas present from my brother.”

  “Way to go, Ginette. Now we can keep the bad guys at bay with bad language and rude hand gestures,” yelled Mickey, giving an example of the latter.

  Victoria turned immediately to BJ, who stood transfixed watching the ripples spiral away from her Glock’s watery grave.

  “Okay, BJ, the tide has turned. You’re either with us or against us. Are you onboard, or do you follow the gun?” she asked coolly while BJ stood stunned, blinking at the water, obviously in turmoil.

  Victoria plowed on, knowing her quarry was off balance.

  “What was your cut for the kidnap and extortion? Oh, and let’s not forget my grisly murder.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she immediately began to sweeten the deal while BJ was still reeling. “Because I can guarantee I can better it.”

  BJ turned dazed eyes to Victoria. “I was to get the boat,” she said.“The boat?” Victoria and Mickey asked in unison.

  “Yeah, Green Eyed Monster. Rudy was gonna give her to me for minding you overnight. She was to be ‘sold’ to me just after her owner’s unfortunate disappearance overboard. Seemed like good pay at the time. I mean, she’s a beauty. And I was to be off sight for the actual murder part.” BJ sounded eerily sincere.

  “That way it would hold no bad memories for me.”

  “My boat?” Mickey howled in anger. Totally overlooking the murder and memories part. “No way. Absolutely. No. Fucking. Way.”

  “Actually, she’s my boat,” said Victoria. “My money bought her, so in effect, I own her.”

  “Okay,” Mickey huffed. “You can get tortured on her, then.”

  “About that.” Ginette joined them in the cockpit now that she had successfully disarmed the wrong team. “Why don’t we just pile into the powerboat and run away? Cuba is over there.” She pointed to a distant horizon.

  “I’m staying and fighting for my… my goddamn boat.”

  “If Rudy finds you all escaped, I’ll be sleeping with my Glock.”

  “Cuba is in the opposite direction, you ditz.”

  “Hey! I’m only trying to be helpful,” Ginette snapped back at the chorus of put-downs.

  “Helpful. You just threw our only freaking weapon overboard. It’s a pity none of us are on insulin, you could toss that, too,” Mickey yelled.

  “Stop being such a sarcastic twat,” Ginette hissed.

  “Maybe if I had a crutch you could bend it around the mast.”

  “Mickey, you’re hysterical. Stop it now.” Victoria spoke sharply.

  “I’ll get you a crutch, all right,” Ginette muttered under her breath.

  “Ginette, I heard that. Either you two shut up or I’ll lock you both down below,” Victoria said before sitting down, head in hands. “Quiet, all of you. I need to think this through.” She turned to BJ. “An old tub like this is pretty poor payback for aiding and abetting in a kidnap and murder.”

  “Hey. She’s not an old tub. She’s a 1958 classic sloo—”

  “Shut it, Mickey.” Attention back on BJ, Victoria continued,

  “I’ll give you half a million…when I get my money back, that is.”

  “Half a million?” BJ blinked at her with astonishment. “To do what?”

  “Whatever I say, of course.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Victoria and BJ faced off. The night sky was fading away as a new day dawned. Decisions had to be made; lines had to be drawn.

  “And her,” BJ said and indicated Ginette, “I want her.” Bravado had returned tenfold to her voice and mannerisms. After the shock of her Glock’s unceremonious burial at sea, BJ was now compensating for the temporary loss of her machismo. The slightest flicker of hesitation passed through Victoria.

  “Done.”

  She and BJ shook hands.

  “What?” Ginette squeaked, while Mickey just snorted derisively.

  “You owe me one very expensive Glock. Not to mention its sentimental value.” BJ scowled at her. “This needs to be settled.”

  “You’re getting half a million bucks. Go out and buy a gun shop,” Ginette shrieked.

  “It’s a matter of honor. I would not be a pirate if I let you just disarm me like that without retribution. I got a code to keep.”

  “What code? You’re a silversmith doing a favor for her uncle. This is fucking ridiculous. Victoria, I need a word.” Ginette pulled Victoria to one side and whispered heatedly, “Since when did I become your chattel?”

  “Oh I don’t know, since you tried
to abduct me, fry me, embezzle me, double-cross me, throw our only gun overboard, slap people—”

  “Will you stop listing every little thing? Have you never heard of letting go?” Ginette sighed. “Okay, so I’m a shit. But I’m not yours to be brokered in a deal as some sexual plaything.” She sneaked an appraising peek over at BJ, who was patiently waiting for the outcome of this tête-à-tête. “At least, not for any longer than a week.”

  Taking advantage of their one-on-one, Victoria reached for Ginette’s forearm. “I know what we need to do,” she murmured quietly. “I have a plan, but one of us will have to set it up. I can’t tell Mickey, at least not yet. I’m still unsure how much of BJ’s loyalty I’ve bought. So that leaves you and me, Ginette.” She looked deep into the eyes of her former partner, wondering how strong their newfound friendship actually was. “I need to know you’re in this with me, right to the end.” Ginette looked back at her, her gaze serious and unswerving.

  “But this is the end, Vic. Sink or swim. There’s nowhere else for us to go, now is there?”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Mickey’s soft gaze turned to Victoria.

  It was filled with hope, expectation, and something unquantifiable that caused a jolt of raw emotion to slam through Victoria’s body.

  My God, we’re hours away from becoming plankton, and with one look she has my knees turning to pudding. I’ve got to keep her away from me, at least until this is all over.

  Victoria took a deep breath as her pulse rate finally settled.

  “I need you to go to the bow of the boat and just stand there.”

  “Okay.” Mickey stood to obey unquestioningly. “Why am I doing that?”

  “You’re keeping a lookout for pirates!”

  “I’m on it.” Mickey made toward the bow with determined purpose. Victoria blew out a long puff of relief before BJ’s quizzical gaze caught her eye.

  “Ain’t no pirates here until I give out our position.”

  “I don’t want her to know the plan just yet.”