Fortunes Fool

by Gale, Eva; D'Arc, Bianca; Kent, Cassidy; March, Selah

  He kissed her passionately again, and her kiss was as bold as his, meeting him stroke for stroke, challenging him to outdo her.

  "You think you can shock me, Archer?" Miranda asked, her tone designed to emasculate. "Go ahead and try."

  He slid a hand up the inside of her thigh, causing a ripple of goosebumps in the cool air. He hooked a finger around the string of her thong and ripped off her underwear. Here's something new, she thought. His knuckle drifted down over her cleft and parted her sex. She moaned once. He swirled a finger between the lips of her pussy, gliding over the slick flesh, but never breaking their gaze until he brought his finger to his mouth to taste her moisture. Miranda was momentarily taken aback, and Archer looked smug, as if he'd bested her. No way would she let him think he'd won.

  She smiled as he brought his hand forward and she captured his finger between her lips. Miranda had never tasted herself before and the idea of it drove her wild. With the saline taste of herself still on her lips, she went on to do him one better, unzipping his jeans and dropping to her knees.

  Miranda prided herself on her ability to give a good blow job. She had nothing but contempt for women who gave a lackluster performance.

  She yanked down his jeans and began with a long slow lick from base to tip, eliciting an approving groan from Archer. When her lips enveloped the head of his cock for the first time, Miranda taunted him by meeting his eyes and holding their locked gaze all the while she licked and sucked him off. After breathless minutes of pumping up and down over his hardened member, she tasted his pre-ejaculate. Her nipples tightened and tingled, excited by the prospect of tasting his come and winning their little battle.

  Instead, he withdrew from her mouth and stripped down to nothing. Even in the garish light of the hanging bulb, the sight of his nude body floored Miranda. No desk job for this man. From the looks of his muscular thighs and rigid abdomen, Archer spent his time in the field, chasing down the bad guys or whatever it was he did.

  Archer raised an eyebrow at her appreciative gaze, but then narrowed his eyes as if an idea had just occurred to him. He hauled her to her feet and held her by the elbow as he glanced around the room, seemingly looking for something. He must have found it, for he pulled her into the corner so fast that he accidentally booted the trash bags at his feet. Scrapped counterfeit bills spilled out at their feet, the botched leftovers of bleached dollars turned hundreds.

  Miranda was so shocked that when he let go of her arm to shove her against the wall, she fell upon the pile of illegal tender. Although the move was disproportionately rough and violent when compared to their lovemaking, the aggression actually excited her more than anything. Miranda found that she loved to be on her hands and knees facing a corner. The bizarre thought of fucking a stranger on top of a mound of money in that same corner further encouraged her lust and excitement. It was decadent and outlandish. She loved it. Miranda lifted her skirt to the waist and spread her legs, exposing her pussy to him. He kneeled in the cash next to her, squeezing and kneading her ass. "You smell like sex," he said. She sighed. Tell me about it. "You smell like sex," he repeated, "and I want to taste you again. I want to lick your flesh, to flick my tongue over your clit, to suck on the lips of your pussy. I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, Miranda."

  Again, he tried to shock her with explicit words. Two could play at that game. She slipped off her top and unclipped the front closure of her white lace bra. Her tits brushed the counterfeit bills, positioned as she was with her weight resting on her elbows and her ass in the air. She swayed back and forth, her nipples caressed by the cotton papers.

  She slipped her hand beneath her belly and between her legs, resting her head on her other arm.

  "With your tongue, hm?" She sighed dreamily, twirling a finger through the curls of her mound, watching him eye her every move. "I'll tell you how I want to be fucked, Fed." Right off the bat, she slipped two fingers inside herself in one quick motion.

  "I don't want preliminaries. I don't want preparation. I want you to push right into me. I want to feel the head of your hard cock slip through my tight pussy." Miranda pulled her fingers out to lie on either side of her clit, squeezing them together until that little bud of excitement throbbed to be licked and owned.

  She continued, calmly telling him how she wanted to be fucked, all the while watching his cock dip and rise at each word. "I want to hear you fuck me," she went on to say. "The wet, loud sound of your body slapping against mine should be the only thing I hear." The moment she had uttered the words, he growled, diving onto the pile of bills. Roughly digging his hands into her flesh, he grabbed her by the hips and put his mouth to her pussy.

  Miranda cried out, more than ready to feel his tongue on her sex. He didn't disappoint her, starting out with one broad, flat stroke of his tongue on her engorged flesh. The heated liquid of his caress drove her to the brink of madness, forced her to rock back against his mouth, thoughtless of will or intention. Only pure need remained.

  Archer cared nothing for her need or the insanity of her movements. He forced her to hold still beneath his ministrations, while he sucked her clit and labia. When she refused to conform, he hauled her legs over his shoulders and lay back against the bills, her breasts resting against his navel, her head on his thighs. A perfect position for distraction from his passionate tonguing. Without even a nod to gravity, his cock stood up straight, begging her to wrap her lips around its base, the coarse hairs there brushing against her face. Archer groaned and the sound vibrated against her vulva. Combined with the very thought of sucking his dick, that made her wetter than she had been before. She knew Archer could tell because he enthusiastically lapped up the excess flow of her juices. Bless him. As he lapped at her sex, she lifted up onto her elbows and studied his cock. It was nearly perfect, with just a slight curve to the right. His well-defined head was engorged with blood, fairly begging for her mouth. Miranda grasped him by the base of his dick as she closed her mouth over the head of his cock. She desperately tried to concentrate on him, rather than her own pleasure, pulling out every trick in her book.

  Although it was difficult to focus through the multiple orgasms he gave her, Miranda managed to get him to the point that his thighs were shaking and his abdomen contracting against her breasts. She thrilled to know that he was about to orgasm and wrapped her arms around his thighs to ride it out. Archer uttered a warning groan even while he continued to flick his tongue across her clit.

  With a wild roar, he spurted a powerful jet of come into her mouth. The taste and texture of his ejaculation along with the relentless tonguing of her clit battered her senses and forced her own jubilant climax.

  They slowly descended from the heights of their wild and impassioned oral sex. Although they had brought each other to the brink of ecstasy, neither was satisfied.

  Chapter Four

  Matt was beyond words. He had been intent on satisfying her needs, yet this woman had unselfishly given him the same level of pleasure. Her actions were brazen, yet invigorating. He could not recall a time when a woman hadn't taken whatever she could from him without offering anything in return.

  He couldn't put a finger on it, but their odd connection felt more real than any of his previous relationships. It was as if she alone had the ability to see through the wall he had built around himself. Needless to say, his reality appeared slightly off kilter lately. He wasn't complaining in the slightest, especially when Miranda felt so right in his arms.

  Her chest pressed tightly against him and he couldn't resist kissing her delicate lips again. This time he wanted it to be gentle to make up for his earlier rough handling. Matt cupped her face in his callused palms and recaptured her lips, parting them with his tongue to further explore the sweetness within.

  Their tongues danced to the rhythm of their beating hearts and she wrapped her arms around his neck, opening herself up to a deeper kiss. He encircled her waist with his hands and rolled around, taking her with him until he was on top. His body
nestled between the vee of her thighs. When he finally tore his lips away, she let out a soft sigh of contentment. He smiled in satisfaction at her swollen lips and couldn't resist planting a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

  Matt Archer had done a lot of wild and crazy things in his time, but never anything as spontaneous as rolling on a stack of freshly printed counterfeit bills with a luscious Gypsy. His throaty laughter echoed through the dim room. "That was…" "Illegal? Compromising?" Miranda suggested with a quirk of her

  brow. "I was going to say intense." "Intense, huh?" She smiled mysteriously. "I'll show you intense." The feel of her swelling breasts against his chest hardened his cock. He was ready for her again and she knew it. Miranda lifted onto her knees and easily slid onto him with a sigh of perfect bliss. He sucked in his breath, surprised by her take-charge performance, but loving every ounce of it. Matt grabbed her ass, guiding her as she pumped up and down on his turgid shaft.

  Matt loved the way her breasts bounced, adored the rapturous expression on her face as she rode him with enthusiasm. His body lit up like a torch. The heat consumed him, burning higher and higher, flames rising and licked by Miranda's sensual yet provocative dance. He had never had a woman spring alive during lovemaking like this. She captured him in a spell so profound he grew lost in the cocoon of her earthy charms.

  Her movements increased, faster and faster until he almost believed his soul had descended his body. Their frantic lovemaking created a bizarre sensation that bonded her to him as if their separate heartbeats had merged as one. He could not explain the sudden unity, the feel of blood rushing through his veins as his cock stretched to the limit.

  He knew they were on the verge and he wanted the feeling to last as long as he could hold out. With the pressure mounting, Miranda clenched her pussy tight around his shaft and all thoughts of control dissipated. His walls crumbled from the multitude of sensations she awakened in him. Matt allowed himself to let go, enjoying the waves after waves of ecstasy that washed through him until the storm subsided into a quiet lull. Matt trembled from the revelation that this sexual encounter resembled a dream. One he shared with a sex goddess who had brought the mystical light of the moon into this darkened room. * * * * The uncomfortable silence was killing him. Matt Archer wasn't one to crave more than a one-night stand, but hell if he didn't feel like wanting more of Miranda. Truth be told, a quick tumble based on mutual attraction wasn't going to satisfy him. Not with someone as insatiable and daring as Miss Gypsy. He turned to glance over at Miranda and his insides knotted up. Her soft features radiated beneath the moonlight. Her silky strands flowed behind her back and spilled over her shoulders like a Botticelli painting. The Birth of Venus in all her magnificent glory. Emblazoned in his soul was the image of Miranda's nude radiance touching, kissing, and riding him to a fevered ecstasy. Looking at her now, this vision seemed to be in total contrast with the cold woman she had become moments after their heated lovemaking.

  It was as if someone had flipped off a switch, transforming her into this matter-of-fact person who was quick to dress and even quicker to pretend that the whole sexual episode never happened. As if the act is a trivial kind of research!

  Damn right it hurt his ego. He'd be lying if he thought otherwise. Matt let out a frustrated breath. Maybe the heavens were finally giving him a taste of his own medicine for all those years of having that love'em-and-leave-'em attitude.

  Served him right. How many rules had he broken tonight? He couldn't easily count them and the fact that he was willing to compromise his duties for sex put him in a terrible position. This behavior wasn't like him at all. He wasn't sure who or what was to blame for his temporary madness but he didn't like it one bit.

  "Y…you want to come in?" The softness in Miranda's voice sliced through the silence.

  A pang of guilt tugged at him and he determined it was best to make his escape while he had the ability to do it. "It's late and I want to fax the evidence to headquarters."

  Her expression said it all. She had misinterpreted his words. Damn it, if he stuck around any longer he wouldn't be able to keep himself from making it up to her. Get the hell outta there, Archer. The proof was safely in his hands and she obviously had given him

  an easy way out, so why did the idea of leaving feel so wrong? Aw, hell. Miranda was the most liberating lover he had been with in ages! She was as giving as she was eager to receive, and that was the biggest turn-on for him. Her lack of inhibitions had been exhilarating—a change from the quick and predictable relationships he'd had before.

  The chilly evening walk to Miranda's front door had been awkward. He wasn't sure whether he should hold her hand or wrap his arms around her to keep her warm. His palm was sweaty during his indecision and he found himself feeling like an adolescent pining away for a secret crush.

  "Well, I guess this is it, then." She stuck out her hand and he wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Hadn't they just had mind-blowing sex not more than an hour ago and here she acted as if they were virtual strangers.

  Matt smirked but accepted her hand. "Fuck it," he muttered and pulled her to him. He planted a kiss on the lips he'd been craving since they left the store. If he was going to walk out of her life he'd be damn sure to get one good kiss.

  He released Miranda and watched her sway unsteadily as she stepped back.

  "I'll see you around," Matt mumbled gruffly. He turned to leave when she halted him with a question that ruined theCasablanca moment. "Wait. What about Edith?" Matt whipped around to glare at her. "Screw Edith. She's as guilty

  as her illegal counterparts." Miranda's lips jutted out defiantly. "I think you're jumping the gun

  there, Archer. She's a sweet old lady who couldn't possibly be involved." He frowned at her stubborn demeanor. "Don't get any ideas in that pretty little head of yours. It's my job to clean up the criminals around here so I don't want you back at that shop. You hear me?" He hoped his intimidating voice would get through to her.

  "I hear you loud and clear, you arrogant ass!" she spat before whipping around, stepping into her apartment, and slamming the door in his face.

  Matt Archer stared at the paint-chipped door and realized in that moment there was no better match for him than Miranda. After all, he loved a good challenge. * * * * "How dare he!" Miranda grumbled to herself as she stalked through the park on her way to work the next day. "'Screw Edith?' How about 'Screw you, Archer?'"

  The parade of hardened criminals, con-men, and tricksters must have done a number on his ability to trust people over the years. How could that kindly old grandmother possibly be in on the scam? No way. Sure, she might bilk the gullible out of a few bucks for her "psychic visions," but maybe she was actually psychic. And there was a world of difference between the Psychic Friends Network and a counterfeiting ring.

  If she ever got it, Miranda would stake her next advance on the guilt of Edith's sons. The old woman was just a victim in their shady dealings. And if Archer wouldn't be there for the people he had supposedly sworn to protect, well then, Miranda would. Fidelity, bravery, and integrity, my ass! The doorbell jangled as Miranda entered Farra's. She stomped out the cold on the mat just inside the door but stopped when she realized how eerily quiet it was. She shivered, giving herself a little pep talk. All she had to do was let Edith know what kind of shit her kids had gotten into, then jet. And maybe join the Witness Protection Program. "Miranda, dear? Is that you?" Edith called from the back room. "Yep." "Can you come here? I got a new shipment but I'm having trouble

  lifting it." Miranda agreed wholeheartedly. That back room is nothing but

  trouble. She sighed. "Let's get this over with." Miranda pushed aside the curtain to the back room and took a breath to start her prepared speech. She managed to say, "Edith, I think you may be caught up in something pretty bad," before she saw stars and the world went black. * * * * When Miranda awoke, she groaned at the realization that her hands were once more bound together in the dank back room of Farra's Fortunes. This time,
it wouldn't be sexy. It would be just plain scary.

  "I'm so sorry, dear," Edith whispered. "They made me call you in here." Through a no-doubt concussive haze, Miranda saw that Edith was bound to a chair right beside her. "Who?" she hissed. Better not to let on too much, especially at first. "My good-for-nothing progeny. They're no sons of mine anymore,"

  Edith moaned dolefully. "I was just coming to tell you that they—" "Are counterfeiters?" Edith smiled wistfully. "I gathered that some time ago. I tried to get them to stop, but they wouldn't listen. And a mother doesn't turn her own sons over to the Feds. What was I to do?"

  Miranda opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly. There was no polite response to that.

  "And now they've caught one of those Feds snooping around here and they think it's my fault. And yours." Edith sighed and closed her eyes. Miranda gasped. "Caught a Fed? Where?" "He's tied up in the alley Dumpster right now." Edith shook her

  head at the depths to which her sons would sink. "And if he makes a move, Rodney'll put a bullet in him." The man who had caught Archer and her last night didn't look so dopey anymore. "So if you don't start talking, Loverboy and Mama are gonna get it."

  Edith narrowly eyed the man as if he was far beneath her, as if she despised her own flesh and blood. I guess I would, too, if I was Mom to the Mob. Miranda gave him a sullen face of her own and looked down, taking a moment to think out a strategy for the situation. Although she was not sure how many sons Edith had exactly, Miranda was fairly certain that only two of them were around at the moment. And if one was on Archer, she should be able to immobilize this guy long enough for it to distract Rodney. If she could only untie herself.

  * * * * Matt woke up to a throbbing headache that felt like someone had slammed a sledgehammer against his skull. His face hurt like a sonofabitch, and a flood of memories came rushing back. After leaving Miranda's apartment he had gone straight home to fax the ledger pages to headquarters. He hadn't anticipated two goons jumping out at him like a couple of jack in the boxes. He had put up a good fight until one man clocked him across the face while the other used his body as a punching bag.