The last time he saw his old pal was in a bar where he had started a fight with eight bikers and almost won. Even though the man seemed fairly sane last night, Russ knew he could carry out his soft-spoken threat to kill him if he went near Barbara or Matt again.
And yet, wasn't the final reward worth any risk? He simply had to get to Barbara at a place and time when "Kyle" wouldn't see them together. He had to unmask him for her before she fell for his lies. A rush of pleasure zipped through him as he thought of how grateful she would be for his rescuing her. After that, she'd accept his protection on a permanent basis without another moment of hesitation.
Russ did not allow himself to think about Barbara being with his old pal all weekend. If he did, if he pictured them together, the way he wanted to be with her, he was afraid he'd end up killing them both.
And that would really fuck up everything.
With the image of that bastard groping his woman's naked body, he took the control away from Tammy and used her the way she hated most, just to remind her who was really in charge.
Chapter 13
"Tammy?" Simon was stunned to see her instead of room service when he opened the door. He poked his head out and glanced up and down the walkway outside his room to make sure no one was nearby, then hustled her inside. She was almost completely covered by the full-length silver fox coat he'd given her for Christmas, her gorgeous hair was tucked up inside the matching hat, and her hands were inside the muff, but he still didn't want to take any chances. "I thought we agreed not to be seen together while we were here."
"Something happened," she said, pulling off the hat and shaking her long hair loose. She carelessly tossed the hat and muff on the bed. "I thought you should know—" A knock at the door prevented her from saying more.
"I ordered room service for dinner. It's not much. I didn't know you were coming."
"For God's sake, Simon, I didn't come here to eat."
"Of course not." He hated it when he said the wrong thing to her. "I only meant—"
"Just get your dinner and send the waiter away. I'll be in the bathroom."
Simon's hand was trembling as he signed the room service bill. He'd been dying to see her again, even knowing that every time they were together was another kind of death. Whatever happened, she could have told him about it over the phone or sent him a note, as she had for the past week. Could it be that she'd finally had enough of her waiting game, that their separation had convinced her to give up her virginal status?
He was glad now that he had sprung for a whole carafe of wine with his dinner. "You can come out now," he called to Tammy as he filled the wineglass and the water goblet from the carafe. When she reappeared, he handed her the goblet, then realized she was still wearing the coat. "I'm sorry. Let me help you out of this." His fingers grasped the collar from behind her, but she held it tightly around her.
"I'm chilled. I'll take it off later."
Her icy tone warned him that her patience was growing thin. He picked up the smaller glass and prepared to make a toast. "To us?"
"To our future," she said, finally giving him the smile he'd been nervously awaiting.
"Shall we sit?" he asked, gesturing toward the bed.
She purposely walked over and sat in one of the two chairs by the table instead. Following her lead, as he usually did, he took the other one.
"Barbara found out that I don't work in her building."
Simon choked on the wine in his mouth, and it took him a moment to be able to speak. "What did you tell her?"
"I had a story already made up in case that happened. It was bound to sooner or later. She bought it. But I'm afraid my playing her best friend and spending time with the kid isn't getting us anywhere."
"I told you, if the boy considers you his friend and knows that you'll be living near the Hamiltons, the move should go much more smoothly. Besides, the more time you spend with the boy, the more likely the mother will trust you. With trust comes sharing secrets and listening to advice. She still hasn't confided in you? About anything?"
"Oh, I know all sorts of things about her childhood, but whenever I open the subject of that boy's father, she gives me fairy tales."
"This plan worked on her once. It will work again. It just may take more time than it did then."
"Tell me again how you handled her before. Maybe there's something we've missed."
He took a long swallow of his wine and set down the empty glass. "It was very simple. While she was at the estate, she showed some affection for young Latham. He was a greedy, foul-tempered bastard, but he still managed to fu—excuse me, convince every girl within fifty miles to let him have his way with her. The Hamiltons couldn't get rid of him because young Howard considered him his best friend and they didn't want to risk upsetting Russ's father either. They considered him irreplaceable. For a moderate amount of cash, Russ left the estate and moved in with Barbara."
"Wait a minute. Exactly how did he con her into letting him move in with her?"
"I suspect she was somewhat attracted to him to begin with, but from what he told me, he played on her sympathies. She was a sucker for the underdog and I'm sure Howard's unexpected departure made her vulnerable to Russ's persuasion. Within a few weeks, he'd convinced her to forget about Howard and sign the agreement."
Tammy stood up and paced back and forth. "I sure can't convince her to give up her kid, if she hasn't even admitted that he's the Hamiltons' grandson." She stopped and turned to him. "All right, she was a sucker for the underdog and she had her heart broken, big time. What if I go to her with a sob story about my boyfriend leaving me instead of marrying me like he promised? Maybe that would make her want to tell me how the same thing happened to her."
"Do you think you could be convincingly heartbroken?" He regretted doubting her abilities the moment he said it.
She let out a disgusted sigh. "If I can play the ditziest blonde of the century, why would I have a problem crying over being dumped? It's just another role."
"Of course you can do it. I don't know what I was thinking. It's worth a try, but I still think it's a matter of trust. Even if you can't talk her into turning her son over to the Hamiltons, as long as she admits to you that Howard was the father, you can serve as a witness in case we end up in court after all."
"I thought you said Latham could do that much."
Simon made a face. "He could, although his record makes him less credible than you would be. That reminds me, he returned from that errand I gave him to keep him occupied while I took another shot at Barbara. Surprisingly, he came through, so I think I'll give him another task."
"And what might that be?"
He could see she was intrigued by his intelligence and he preened a bit. "It occurred to me that Barbara may have kept her copy of the agreement between her and Howard. It's basically worthless, but it would be better if it disappeared completely. I thought perhaps Russ could break in—"
"No!" Tammy spat at him. "You mustn't use him to do anything that might frighten her into running away again." She took a calming breath. "I'll do it. I can search for it while I'm babysitting and she'll never know the difference. There's no telling what else I might find that you can use."
Simon would never have asked her to do it, but he preferred to rely on her rather than Russ. "Just be careful that the boy doesn't see you doing anything suspicious."
"You know, that kid of hers is really smart. He's more grown up than a lot of adults. It could be that he knows the whole story, but I doubt it. I mean, what kid in his right mind would live in a little two-bedroom house with one television when he could be a millionaire in a mansion and play his stupid video games on his personal big-screen TV? Maybe I could get him curious enough to demand the truth from his mother. I don't think there's anything he wouldn't do for me if I ask nicely enough."
Based on his own experience, Simon knew how accurate that statement was. He watched her glide over to the window and look outside. She was in one of those mo
ods in which she doubted him. And with her doubt came the thought that she could do better. In his younger days, he might have cut her loose, knowing there were others he could have with a snap of his fingers, others who would appreciate him more than she did. But they considered him an old man now, and the women who would have him couldn't come close to comparing with Tammy.
He needed her in a way he had never needed a woman before. It was more than sexual, though that was a great part of it. She made him feel young and powerful again. He loved walking into a restaurant with her on his arm and introducing her to his colleagues at cocktail parties, knowing every man who saw her was envious of him.
Tammy continued speculating, though she was talking more to herself than him. "Once Matthew knows he has such an unbelievable alternative, he might choose to move in with his grandparents. If she thought that's what her son really wanted, I think she'd give in. The trick would be in making it look like it was his idea."
Simon nodded his agreement, but his attention was focused on how to restore her faith in him. As demeaning as it was, he acknowledged the fact that it was his wealth that she was most interested in. He forgave her greed, knowing about her impoverished childhood. He also forgave her for tempting him with her lush body to get him to buy her expensive gifts. It was something he would have done if he'd been born a female and looked like she did.
She claimed she was a virgin and wanted to remain one until her wedding night. She wouldn't even let him French-kiss her, since she considered that a form of penetration. The problem was, she hadn't yet agreed to marry him.
Occasionally, her behavior convinced him of her innocence. Most of the time, it didn't. Like when she played certain games meant to drive him out of his mind with sexual frustration, then refused to allow him even the smallest liberty. Her teasing bordered on torture, yet he had become addicted to it.
Would she toy with him tonight, or was she too annoyed with him and the part he'd asked her to perform?
"I spoke to Mr. Hamilton today," he said in a tone that let her know he had something interesting to share. "I told him Barbara was being difficult and he raised my bonus."
She slowly looked over her shoulder at him.
"If I can pull this off without going to court, he'll pay me an amount equal to whatever Barbara gets, which at the moment would be..." he paused until she turned around and faced him, "two million dollars." He let that sink in then said, "You remember that house you liked so much? It's yours, honey. Just as soon as we wrap up this deal." He watched her expression change from bored to intrigued and knew he'd secured her devotion once again.
"Two... million... dollars?" she repeated in a husky voice. "I could have the house? What about the sports car you promised? Can I have that, too?"
"You can have anything you want."
She closed the draperies and gracefully walked over to him. "And what will you get out of it?"
He licked his dry lips. "You know what I want." He made a move to stand, but she pressed her hands to his shoulders to keep him seated.
She leaned down and placed a brief kiss on his forehead. "Yes, I know what you want," she murmured, and gave him another light kiss on his nose. "And you can have it, anytime, anywhere... on the floor, up against the wall, in your car or the steam room at your club, anywhere... right after the wedding."
He gulped. "The wedding? Are you saying you'll marry me?" With a mixture of joy and relief welling in his chest, he tried to pull her onto his lap, but she straightened up and backed a few feet away from him.
"I've wanted to say yes, but I needed to be positive that you could make all my dreams come true."
Her suggestions of where they would make love had taken him to a semi-aroused state, which was as good as it got these days without a pill, but her acceptance of his proposal caused a drop of semen to dampen his thigh.
As he shifted position in his chair to lessen his discomfort, her gaze drifted down to the bulge between his legs. "I know how hard it can be for a man to wait, so I thought of a way to give you a little something to hold you until the night you make me your wife."
He rose, but she held up her hand to stop him from coming closer. "You have to agree to do this my way or we don't do anything."
His heart was already pounding dangerously in his chest and all she'd done was talk, but he was willing to risk anything to possess her. "All right. Whatever you say."
"Good," she said, looking very much like a cat with a mouse trapped in her paws. "Take off your clothes."
"Everything?" He wasn't at all anxious for her to see his pale, sagging flesh or the varicose veins in his legs.
"If you're going to question every one of my orders—"
"I'm sorry," he said, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt cuffs. "It's just... wouldn't it be more romantic to turn off some lights?"
"No."
Figuring she would see his physical shortcomings eventually, he proceeded to get naked and hoped that his erection would be impressive enough to help her overlook the rest of his aging body. He'd been as randy as a teenager for the past six months, since he met her at the American Bar Association conference in Boston. Now that the moment seemed to be at hand, however, he felt himself going limp beneath her critical stare.
"Do you have a problem I should know about?" she asked bluntly.
"No! Not at all. I was hard as a rock a minute ago. I'm just a little nervous. I mean, you've put me off for so long and... and taking my clothes off, while you stand there bundled up in that coat, isn't exactly arousing for me." He normally enjoyed it when she played the bitch, but this was far more than she'd ever done before. A fantasy image of what she might be planning came to mind, and his sex twitched to life again.
"I suppose you'd rather watch me take my clothes off."
The mere thought stole his breath away. She had previously only allowed him glimpses of forbidden skin by wearing low-cut blouses or very short skirts with no underwear. At least he thought that, because she would bend over in front of him for one reason or another and give him a peek, but his view was always too brief to be sure. A bit more blood collected in his shaft as he recalled it.
"Sit down, Simon, with your legs spread wide apart and your hands gripping the arms of the chair."
He quickly did as she demanded. "From here on, I only want to see one muscle move until I tell you otherwise. Understand?"
He nodded, though he understood very little.
Running her hands down the front of her fur coat, she sighed and said, "Do you have any idea what wearing this coat does for me, Simon? It warms me. In fact, right now, it's making me so hot, I'm getting all gooey wet down there. And since I'm not wearing any panties, I can feel my juices smearing all over my thighs when I walk." She laughed when the one muscle she gave permission to move gave her a salute.
"Not bad," she said, admiring his response. "Now remember, no squirming or closing your thighs, and keep your hands on the chair, or I'll leave.
"I'll bet you'd like to know just how good this fur feels against bare skin." She got the muff off the bed and put her one hand in it while her other hand continued to hold the front of her coat closed.
He no longer believed she could still be chilled. What was the coat hiding? The question left his mind when she ran the muff up his one arm, around his neck, and down his other arm. As she moved on to tickling his chest, he shivered in response, and by the time she grazed his genitals with the exquisite fur, his body was covered with goose bumps. The light contact was so arousing he thought he might explode from the need for something, anything more solid.
She backed away again, obviously pleased with the results of her torture.
"Since you've been such a good boy so far, you get to see that I'm telling the truth about not wearing any panties."
In extremely slow motion she opened the coat and let it slide down her arms to the floor. Simon nearly fainted from the rush of blood from his head to his penis. There she stood, like a goddess, with her blond h
air flowing around her shoulders. Around her neck was the gold choker she had begged for last week. He swallowed hard as he took in the white lace merry widow that forced her breasts up and gave him a glimpse of rosy nipples. His gaze dropped to the long garters that held up white stockings. On her feet were white shoes with very, very high gold spike heels and gold ankle straps. And, as she had claimed, between her thighs was nothing but pink, clean-shaven flesh, just asking to be devoured.
"What do you like to look at better?" she asked. "The front?" She lifted her breasts so that the full nipples escaped the cups of the lingerie, then ran her palms down her abdomen to her inner thighs. "Or the back?" She turned and brought her hands up to her bottom and kneaded the cheeks.
Simon took his eyes off her only long enough to confirm that another drop of moisture had formed on the top of his straining, twitching manhood. He hadn't been this erect in years.
"I'm waiting, Simon," she said impatiently, keeping her back to him. "Make your choice."
"The front. Please, Tammy, let me touch you."
"No." She bent down and got a plastic bottle out of her coat pocket, then turned around. "Touching is forbidden until the wedding night."
"For God's sake. Are you trying to kill me?"
Her low laugh sounded as demonic as her eyes looked. "Don't be silly. I'm going to satisfy you."
"Without touching?" he asked incredulously.
"Hush, now and do what I tell you." She came forward until she was standing between his knees.
Her beautiful pussy was so close he could smell her muskiness blended with her perfume. It was all he could do not to lean forward and—He felt something wet run down his penis and looked to see her pouring a clear fluid over its swollen head.
"It's only oil... with a little something extra," Tammy assured him. "Catch it with your right hand and rub it all over."
He circled the base of the muscle with his fist and spread the oil up and down. A second later, he felt an odd, tingly sensation and his erection strengthened. He wanted to ask what the "little something extra" in the oil was, but decided he was better off not knowing.
Unnatural Relations (Lust and Lies Series, Book 1) Page 19
