Improper Conduct

by Patricia Rosemoor

  She looked to Nick, who was staring at her. The real her.

  “I think it was too short,” she said softly. “Maybe you should play it again.”

  Nick moved to the equipment rack and made some adjustments until her image appeared on the screen once more. “I have a better idea.”

  This was live, not tape, for the image wore a T-shirt and jeans and was a study in shadow—no grid lights to illuminate every detail this time, but the camera was sensitive enough to pick up plenty.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, noting the camera’s red light once again glaring at her.

  Moving back toward her, Nick pulled off his T-shirt and unsnapped his jeans. “Only what you like.”

  His torso was beautiful, all trim muscle, his abs a rippled wonder to behold. She hadn’t really been able to see him in the dark reaches they’d invaded the last two nights, and now she couldn’t stop looking. When he slipped behind her, she glanced at the monitor and was disappointed that he all but disappeared from the screen.

  “Take off your T-shirt,” he whispered.

  “No, you do it.”

  He didn’t argue. Encircling her waist with his hands, he bunched up the material and inched it slowly, sensuously out of the jeans. The tiny movements teased her flesh and a tingling discomfort spread downward to her toes, so that she kicked off her shoes and managed to rid herself of her socks, as well.

  “That’s better,” she said with a sigh.

  “Is it?”

  “My skin feels like it’s on fire.” Isabel widened her eyes and blinked her lashes at him provocatively. “Oh. What can be done about that?”

  “Let’s see if I can help,” Nick offered.

  His hands disappeared under the cloth, and she couldn’t see him undoing her jeans or touching her flesh on the monitor. What she could see was a man in control, his expression so intense that it held her in its grip.

  His fingers spread along her ribs. She watched his nostrils flare and raised her arms over her head so that she could hook her hands behind his neck. Her breasts lifted visibly beneath the thin material and his hands followed.

  The camera lens caught the way his expression went taut and his jaw tightened and she noticed him duck a hand behind her, heard the zipper and the soft sound as his jeans fell to the floor. Both hands on her again, he stepped out of the jeans and pressed against her back.

  Isabel closed her eyes for a moment and let the sensation of him stroking her breasts roll over her. The next thing she knew, the T-shirt lifted until the material tangled around her arms. He left it there as he removed her bra, exposing her breasts to the air.

  While she struggled to free herself of the cotton trapping her, he cupped her flesh and thumbed her nipples into turgid peaks. She moaned, and with a gesture of triumph, threw the thing off. The second she lowered her arms, Nick bit the soft spot between her neck and shoulder, making her arch higher.

  Eyes half-shut but still focused on the monitor, she watched his hands and the wonderful things they were doing to her breasts as he rhythmically squeezed their fullness and thumbed her nipples.

  Too turned-on to sit still, she inched back on the stool seat and pressed up against him. Hard as a rock, he shifted his erection along her denim-covered buttocks until it nestled in the crack.

  The next thing she knew, one of his hands dipped low along her stomach, disappearing into her jeans. Her thighs spread in response and his fingers dipped into the waiting wetness. He slid one finger against her clit and farther back until he was inside her. She was moving now and couldn’t stop.

  “That’s it, ride me, Isabel,” Nick murmured in her hair as he inserted a second finger and twisted through her creamy wetness. “Ride me hard. I want to watch you. The way you move…your expression…so hot.”

  He was moving, too, behind her. But all she could see on the monitor was herself—a wanton—as she bucked harder and faster. Pressure mounted but she couldn’t get high enough, fast enough.

  “Come for me,” Nick whispered in her ear, then bit down on her neck, the sensation zapping her right to her center.

  She bucked high into him, pressing against his hand, still trapped in her jeans, his fingers deep inside her as waves of pleasure rolled through her.

  She came back down with a round of soul-searing shudders.

  Nick held her until she quieted, kissing her hair, her ear, her forehead.

  Then he pulled his hand free and spun her stool around so that she was facing him. Then he kissed her as if he were fucking her, his tongue hard and plunging deep. She found his cock with one hand and worked it in the same rhythm as the kiss. He was hard and hot and his head was wet with pre-come. He vibrated against her hand. She knew if they kept this up, he would come, and fast.

  But that’s not what she wanted. She wanted him inside her. She wanted them to be locked together in passion and love until they both fell, exhausted and sated.

  As if he sensed her need, he pulled back and, hooking his hands in the back of her jeans and panties, jerked them down, exposing her derriere.

  She let go of him and balanced herself on the stool with both hands while he tugged the garments out from under her. She spread her thighs to welcome him. He scooped both hands under her and lifted so that he could aim his head at her wet entrance.

  “Now!” she urged, and he plunged in deep.

  Finding her mouth again, he renewed the rhythm so that every part of her was assaulted at once. She lifted higher so that he could go deeper, and when he thrust in to the hilt, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

  Nick lifted her into his arms, and for a moment she was suspended, dancing on his cock, grasping him around the shoulders to stay on the ride. He turned until her back slammed against a wall.

  “Now!” she urged again.

  “Wait.”

  He groaned and shoved a hand between them, his middle finger finding her clit and stroking. She arched against him and felt the tension spiral out of control.

  He felt it, too.

  “Now!” he growled.

  Several thrusts and he began to quake, then his hot come jetted into her as she came with him.

  Nick dropped his head to her shoulder, and Isabel wrapped her arms around him and clung tight as they shuddered together in completion.

  When her heart rate settled, she murmured, “I love you, Nick. I’ve always loved you.”

  14

  NICK WAITED UNTIL ISABEL was fast asleep on the trundle bed before kissing her on the forehead, rising and taking his clothes into the bathroom. There he made a quick phone call to Nate Bishop before getting dressed.

  Nick knew he should have done this once he’d figured out that Lulu and Louise were the same girl. Forget the street code of honor he’d warned Isabel about when they’d begun their odyssey—once she learned that he’d been holding out on her, she might never forgive him.

  Taking one last look at the woman he loved, Nick stole out of the studio without making a sound but for the soft click of the door and the snap of the lock behind him. He would be back before she awoke, hopefully with everything she needed to make her happy.

  The street was nearly deserted and he waited at the door. Five minutes later, a loud buzz alerted him to Nate’s arrival. Nate Bishop, his landlord and Annie’s new love, to the rescue.

  “Thanks for coming so fast,” Nick said.

  Nate got off the Harley and handed Nick the helmet. “Bring the hog back in one piece, would you?”

  “Keep my woman in one piece while I’m gone and it’s a deal.”

  Nate saluted him. “I will sit on these stairs and keep watch until you return.”

  Grateful, for Nick wouldn’t have been okay with leaving Isabel alone after what she’d been through, he said, “I owe you one.”

  This wasn’t the first time Nate had come through for him recently—on Annie’s urging, he’d given Nick the keys to the abandoned building owned by his company, Cornerstone Realty, the place wh
ere Nick had taken Isabel the first night. Even though he’d threatened her with the streets, he’d cheated to make sure she remained safe.

  After hopping on the Harley, Nick headed for Humboldt Park, his thoughts filled with Isabel, his woman…but would she be once she knew?

  Not more than five minutes later, he slowed the motorcycle and parked it in front of a gray-stone building that had once been the home of some wealthy industrialist. Luckily, lights still shone through the leaded-glass-trimmed windows. And, thankfully, the middle-aged woman who answered the door was someone he knew.

  “Nick, what in the world are you doing here so late? It’s after midnight!”

  “I’ve got a serious situation, Marlene. A kid who’s in real danger.”

  She looked out to the street. “Where?”

  “Hopefully, here.” He’d suspected as much the night before when Isabel had found the phone number in the shed. “A pretty blonde who goes by the name of Lulu.”

  Marlene nodded and stood back. “Come on in. You know it’s up to her whether or not she wants to talk to you.”

  “Tell her it’s life or death.”

  Marlene gaped but quickly recovered. “A-all right. I’ll be right back.”

  She shot up the staircase as fast as any kid and Nick paced the common room, empty at this hour. Only one lamp was lit low, and it threw the room into deep shadows.

  He hadn’t known Louise was here for sure, but would Isabel ever believe him? And even if he had known, he couldn’t have brought her here, couldn’t have revealed Louise’s safe house. Protecting these kids was part of the code he lived by. If he betrayed her, word would get round, then no kid would ever trust him again. And that would be the end of the good he could do for them.

  He was caught between a rock and a hard place—unless Louise was ready to talk to Isabel, his hands were tied.

  As good as her word, Marlene came back quickly, indicated the staircase and hurried to the back of the building. Louise stood there, staring at him.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  She came all the way downstairs but appeared reluctant and somewhat distrustful. Her gaze quickly swept every corner of the room.

  “I’m alone,” he assured her.

  “Why were you with Isabel tonight?”

  So she had seen him. Nick hadn’t been sure. “It’s a long story.” One that Isabel could relate if she wanted. “The crux of the matter is that she wanted me to help find you.”

  “And you didn’t bring her here.”

  “That would be against the rules. You know that. It’s up to you now, Louise.”

  “What’s up to me?”

  “To turn yourself in. To Isabel.”

  She was already shaking her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you?” When she refused to answer, he said, “Isabel is out of her mind with worry over you. She won’t stop until she finds you. Unless something happens to you first. Like tonight…”

  He was leaving the door open for her to spill, to tell him something, anything, about why she’d been dragged off. He considered telling her about the bastard trying to murder Isabel, but he didn’t think that would be a good idea at the moment. He might scare off the kid for good.

  “Some guy grabbing me isn’t going to change my mind.”

  “Some guy?” Again he waited, but Louise was as stubborn as her older sister. “So, you’re not in danger, right? And neither is Isabel?”

  Her eyes widened a fraction. “Isabel?”

  He nodded. “Right. Whoever grabbed you tonight got a good look at her.” When that brought no response, he changed gears. “Your sister is at my place for the night. She would be so relieved to see you and talk to you about whatever is troubling you.”

  Louise shook her head and backed off toward the staircase. “I can’t go back.”

  “Not back. To Isabel. She needs you.” And as she hurried up the stairs to be swallowed by the dark at the top, he added, “If you change your mind, you know where to find her, at least for now.”

  Cursing, Nick ran a hand through his hair. Still nothing from the kid that would give him hope.

  What the hell was he supposed to do next?

  SO WHAT THE HELL WAS THE GUY in the black leather doing in the building? he wondered. Were Mr. Hog and Novak a tag team with Isabel? Did she do them one at a time or both together?

  Not that he cared—just curiosity born of boredom.

  Feeling his energy waning, he popped another pill. He had to stay awake. He had to see this through. One pill left. He’d better save it in case he needed it later. Should have taken more from his stash. In a few minutes, he would be flying, able to handle anything.

  And Isabel would be so damn easy. She’d welcome him inside, would maybe even cry on his shoulder. Tell him about what happened to her in the park district locker room that morning.

  He laughed.

  Sweet. That’s what it would be. He’d made some mistakes, but no more. He couldn’t afford to, not when the list was getting longer. Now he not only had to get rid of the brat and Isabel, he’d have to see to Novak, as well. The last would be a pleasure, he decided, as his side twitched, reminding him why.

  So what was the Hell’s Angels wanna-be doing there? Was he up in his office at this time of night?

  He’d figured Isabel and Novak would come back to the building eventually, so he’d made it his business to case the building over the past few days when he wasn’t tied up with business or chasing after Louise. That was why he’d recognized the guy when he’d removed the helmet.

  If he was going to make his move on Isabel, he needed to do it now. He got out of the car. He’d been sitting here for hours, since before Isabel and Novak had come back, so it took a minute to get the kinks out.

  He stretched his limbs and crossed the street on an angle, casually heading for the doorway. Not many cars this time of the morning.

  No witnesses. That was good.

  His adrenaline kicked in, and so did the drug. His pulse quickened as did his pace. He wanted to get in and get it over with before Novak returned. Then he would wait and take care of that Novak bastard who’d blown his plans for the night.

  Almost there. One foot in front of the other. Quick look around to make sure he was alone.

  He approached the doorway…started to reach out…and then swept his hand up to his hair and kept walking.

  “Damn!” he growled. “Damn, damn, damn!”

  Just as he’d been about to reach for the door, he’d seen him reclining in his leather on the bottom stairs. Mr. Hog hadn’t gone up to his office, after all.

  Would nothing ever go right?

  “NICK?” ISABEL FELT HIS absence the moment she awoke. “Nick, where are you?”

  Sliding her legs over the edge of the trundle bed, she yawned and found the top sheet, which she wrapped around herself. Where was he? Had he fallen asleep in a chair?

  She rose, flipped on a light and quickly surveyed the studio. No Nick at all. Where could he have gone after midnight?

  Restless, she wandered around his studio, touching the equipment, considering what a turn-on watching them make love had been.

  From the looks of the equipment, Nick had a lot of money invested here. Look how far the kid who’d spent time on the streets had come, she thought. Wondering how he’d gotten himself on the right track, she was also curious about the documentary he was making. His personal project. She couldn’t wait to see it completed.

  Isabel glanced at the rack of tapes, all labeled, most with a single name: Missy, Chica, Glory. Considering those names, she might question the contents—wonder if they weren’t home-shot pornography, after all—if the tapes next to them weren’t labeled Kyle and Eugene and Norman. So many runaways, she thought, yawning again and starting to turn away.

  That’s when she saw it, the one name guaranteed to jump out at her and grab her by the throat.

  Lulu.

  She froze and her pulse began to pound. No, it c
ouldn’t be.

  But instinct told her it could…

  She had to see for herself.

  Somehow, shaking hands or not, Isabel managed to turn on the equipment and insert the tape into the VCR. Throat tight, she watched the screen as the camera adjusted and a shot of a young blonde came into focus.

  “Louise!” she whispered.

  “What should I talk about?” came the familiar voice from the speakers.

  “Anything you want. Your experiences on the street. How you’re getting along. What needs to happen before you go home.”

  Louise’s expression darkened. “I can’t go home. Nothing is like it seemed. It’s all a lie. Everything I believed in is a lie.”

  “There’s no one for you?”

  “My sister. But she doesn’t know…”

  Isabel’s stomach knotted and she had trouble breathing as the full extent of Nick’s perfidy hit her.

  “Your sister doesn’t know what?”

  “She’s not who she thinks she is. And she’s not the only one.” Louise shook her head. “Can we start over?”

  “Sure, if you like—”

  “Can we start over?”

  It took Isabel a moment to realize the last came from behind her. Stopping the tape, she stood staring at the television screen and listened to the sound of her heart drumming furiously through her ears.

  “Isabel, I didn’t know, not at first,” Nick said. “She called herself Lulu. You called her Louise.”

  Isabel turned toward him. “You’ve known long enough.” Though covered by a sheet, she felt utterly exposed. “Why didn’t you tell me, Nick?”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” The drumbeat in her ears competed with her words. “You’ve been playing a damn game with me—”

  “This is no game.”

  Rising, she stalked over to gather her clothes from the floor. “I thought you were actually trying to help me find her.”

  “I was.”

  She went around him but he followed her to the bathroom. She slammed the door in his face. Shaking with fury and betrayal, she dressed as fast as she could.