“Maybe he doesn’t trust anyone else to do the job right,” Vince suggested. “You said yourself he’s a major control freak.”
“Yeah. And maybe he knows he can’t trust anyone with confidential information about his business dealings. The fact that one of his very own ‘bouncers’ is running surveillance on him is proof that he shouldn’t trust anybody.”
“Must be a damned lonely existence.”
Frank snorted. “Small price to pay for being filthy rich.”
“Yeah,” Vince muttered. “It’s the ‘filthy’ part I’m worried about.”
Frank gave him a long, appraising look. “Have you ever considered the possibility that Rossi’s clean?”
“No.”
“Come on, man. Not even once?”
Vince hesitated, then gruffly admitted, “Maybe once.”
“Yeah, me, too. I mean, I just find it a little hard to believe that after five years of investigating this guy, the feds haven’t been able to build a case against him.”
“That’s not unusual. It happens more often than we’d like to think.”
“I know, but after all the time and money that’s been spent on investigating Rossi, the only ‘evidence’ we’ve come up with are a few questionable transactions to an account in the Cayman Islands and his long-ago connection to the leader of another money laundering enterprise, who Rossi hasn’t been in touch with for years. Even after the guy served his time and got out a couple of years ago, Rossi made no attempt to contact him, and vice versa.” Bemused, Frank shook his head. “If you ask me, Rossi pissed off the wrong person at the top of the food chain, and now he’s doing penance for it.”
Vince said nothing, though the same thought had occurred to him on more than one occasion. Frank was right. They had very little evidence on Bruno Rossi. His phone records were cleaner than the Pope’s, his financial holdings had held up under intense scrutiny by the IRS and FBI, and hours of surveillance tapes had failed to reveal any clandestine meetings with shady “business associates.” But Vince had learned from his own father that nothing was ever as it seemed.
Vince McCall, Sr. had been a vice cop with the Chicago Police Department for nineteen years. Frustrated with getting passed over for promotions year after year, he’d yielded to temptation and joined his partner in a money laundering operation that netted them over $200,000 before they were eventually caught.
Were it not for the slick-tongued, high-priced attorney who’d defended them during the trial, Vince’s father may have spent his remaining days on earth behind bars, instead of in a cold hospital bed at Northwestern Memorial, his body ravaged by lung cancer. He’d died without benefit of a stately police funeral, leaving a legacy of shame and corruption that tainted the lives of his surviving wife and children. Three years later, Vince’s mother succumbed to depression and quietly wasted away. After that, Vince and his older sister dispersed—she to Los Angeles, he to Baltimore, both desperately in pursuit of new lives.
Oh, yeah. Vince definitely knew a thing or two about not judging a book by its pretty cover. If anyone had told him that his father—devoted family man and pillar of the community—was a common criminal, Vince would have knocked the unlucky bastard’s lights out.
Now he knew better.
If Bruno Rossi was engaged in illegal activity, Vince considered it his personal duty to uncover the truth and bring him to justice.
Nothing less would do.
“I’m not just defending Rossi because he’s a fellow Italian,” Frank was saying around a mouthful of food. “I really think—” He broke off, distracted by something he’d seen on the video monitor.
Vince turned to look, and in silence they watched as a tall, voluptuous blonde in a tight T-shirt and leather miniskirt entered Rossi’s office and sashayed over to his desk. As she leaned over the edge, the short hem of her skirt lifted to reveal her bare, milky-white ass.
“It’s Giselle,” Vince and Frank said in unison. They glanced at each other and grinned before returning their attention to the video screen, where the dancer had slowly rounded the desk to sit on Rossi’s lap. Smiling coquettishly, she slid her fingers through his thick hair and lowered her face to his for an openmouthed kiss.
“Well, well, well,” Vince intoned, polishing off his sandwich and settling back in his chair. “Now we know why she’s the most popular dancer at the club.”
Frank shook his head in disbelief. “I had no idea those two had a thing going. Rossi always seemed above crossing the line with his employees. I’ll be damned.”
Vince chuckled dryly. “And you wanted to push her off on me.”
Frank grinned. “You’ll find out why in a minute.”
Sure enough, as they watched, Giselle knelt between Rossi’s legs and unzipped his pants. They had a brief glimpse of the club owner’s dick before most of it disappeared into the blonde’s wide, willing mouth.
“Dayuum,” Vince exclaimed under his breath.
Frank laughed. “Didn’t I tell you I heard that Giselle gives the best head? Check out that technique.”
Vince grinned. “She’s not bad,” he allowed, remembering the way Rebecca had deep-throated him in the freight elevator. He’d been so aroused he nearly came in her mouth. It was, by far, the best blowjob he’d ever received.
Remembering the erotic elevator encounter only made him think about the rest of the time they’d spent together.
One night.
He’d promised himself one night with her, and no more. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by thoughts of Rebecca Edmonds. He needed to concentrate on ensnaring the mark, not becoming a mark himself. Because there was no doubt in his mind that his desire for Rebecca could quickly turn into obsession, the kind that left a man too dazed and confused to know up from down. He’d already spent way too much time thinking about her, wondering if she’d slept in that morning or gotten up early to walk to Lexington Market to buy fresh peaches, as she’d mentioned last night. And try as he might to deny it, he wanted to be with her, not holed up in this damp, chilly trailer that reeked of mildew and stale coffee.
On this crisp fall day, he wanted to stroll to the outdoor market with Rebecca and hold her basket as she poked and squeezed her way through a colorful array of fresh, plump fruit. He wanted to return to her apartment, share a laugh over steaming mugs of hot chocolate, then slowly peel away her clothes and make love to her by the crackling fireplace.
The bottom line was that he enjoyed her company. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also smart, caring, had a great sense of humor, and appealed to him on more levels than a man could ever hope for. He enjoyed being with her, spending time with her.
He wanted more than one night.
“Hey, where are you going?” Frank demanded as Vince abruptly rose from his chair.
“I just remembered something important I have to do,” he said, shrugging into his battered leather jacket.
“Right now?”
“It can’t wait any longer.” Vince paused, then clapped a hand to his partner’s shoulder. “Go home to your girlfriend, Frankie. It’s a beautiful day. Who wants to spend it cooped up inside a damn trailer watching Rossi get a blowjob when you could be getting one of your own?”
Flashing a wicked grin, Vince turned and strode from the trailer without a backward glance.
* * *
“You know, when you showed up at my apartment and asked me to go out on a date with you,” Rebecca said to Vince two hours later, “this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Vince, lounging beside her in the back of a covered wagon filled with hay and pulled by a tractor, gave her a lazy smile. “What did you have in mind?”
Rebecca laughed. “I’m not sure. Maybe something indoors and a little more, uh, stationary.”
“Stationary’s boring,” Vince drawled, a rakish glint in his eyes. “I like movement. And the more, the better.”
Rebecca’s belly quivered at the unmistakable implication. She moistened her lip
s and watched his gaze follow the path of her tongue. “Nothing wrong with movement,” she murmured. Especially not the kind of movement he did inside her body.
Pushing aside the tantalizing thought, she smiled. “Seriously though, Vince. I’ve never been on a hayride before, so this was a wonderful surprise.”
As Rebecca spoke, she gazed through the wide opening of the covered wagon, which offered breathtaking views of the scenic countryside. Fall was in full bloom. A brilliant profusion of yellow, orange, red and gold leaves covered the giant trees that flanked the hillside trail they were following. The hayride concluded with hot apple cider and fresh-baked pumpkin pie served at a privately owned farmhouse nestled on ten acres in northern Baltimore County.
“It’s absolutely beautiful out here,” Rebecca said appreciatively.
“You should see the view from where I’m sitting,” Vince murmured, gazing at her in that way that turned her insides to mush.
“I was talking about the scenery,” Rebecca said with a teasing smile. “And stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like a hayride isn’t the only kind of ride you have in mind.”
Vince gave a low, sexy chuckle. “Well, now that you mention it…”
Rebecca laughed, easing away as he leaned toward her. Not even her inner freak was adventurous enough to have sex out in the open like this, where they could be discovered by their tour guide at any moment.
“Spoilsport,” Vince grumbled good-naturedly.
Again Rebecca laughed.
She’d been thrilled to answer her door that afternoon to find Vince standing there, putting to rest her secret fears about never seeing him again. When he asked her out on a date, she couldn’t get dressed fast enough.
Good thing he’d told her to wear something warm and casual. The low-rise jeans and red cashmere sweater she’d chosen were more appropriate for a fall hayride than a little black dress and high heels.
She reached out and took his warm hand, lacing her fingers through his as the wagon gently jostled them along. The late afternoon air was crisp and cool, but inside the covered carriage they were mostly insulated from the chill.
“Are you originally from Baltimore, Vince?” Rebecca asked conversationally.
He shook his head. “Chicago. I applied for a job here a few years after college.”
She nodded. “Why Baltimore?”
“One of my college buddies was from Baltimore. He always talked about being homesick, so I came here to find out what all the fuss was about.”
“And what’s your verdict?”
“I like it here. But quite honestly, once you’ve lived in one big city, you feel like you’ve lived in them all.”
Rebecca nodded. “I can see that.”
Vince smiled. “Of course, Baltimore has something that no other city has. Something that puts it far above the rest.”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
Rebecca smiled, her insides warming with pleasure. “You really have a way with words, Mr. Gray.”
“I’m only speaking the truth. You’re an amazing woman, Rebecca. I’m really glad I met you.”
Rebecca melted even more. “I’m glad, too.”
They smiled at each other.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Rebecca said almost shyly, “but I didn’t think it was possible to meet someone like you at a strip club.”
Vince looked amused. “Someone like me?”
“Yeah. You’re a great guy, and I guess I’ve always had a negative perception of men who patronize strip clubs.” She bit her lip sheepishly. “I know it’s wrong to feel that way about paying customers.”
Vince chuckled. “Shame on you.”
“I know.” Rebecca laughed. “I wish I could say that working at The Sultan’s has changed my views, but it hasn’t. Getting hit on by married men doesn’t exactly help.”
Vince frowned. “Has anyone ever come on too strong?”
“Not really.” She paused. “Well, there was that customer who summoned me to the Platinum Suite and tried to seduce me.”
Vince grinned unabashedly. “The nerve.”
Rebecca laughed.
Vince wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer to his side, sharing his body heat. Together they gazed out at the beautiful passing scenery.
Rebecca sighed contentedly. “I love fall. It’s my favorite season.”
“It just became mine,” Vince said.
Rebecca smiled at him.
Holding her gaze, he brought her hand to his lips, murmuring idly, “So what about you, sweetheart? Where are you from?”
“I grew up nearby in Columbia.” Rebecca was having a hard time concentrating with Vince’s soft, warm lips on her skin. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers, and on her breasts and between her thighs.
She drew a shaky breath before continuing. “When I complete my doctorate next year, I plan to apply for a faculty position at Johns Hopkins right here in the city.”
“Mmm, very impressive.” Vince was now trailing hot little kisses down the center of her palm, making her nerve endings tingle. “I like a woman who knows what she wants out of life.”
Oh, she definitely knew what she wanted. And right now, it had nothing to do with her career.
When Vince curved a hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her closer, she didn’t protest. He slanted his head over hers and kissed her, sliding the tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips. She opened readily and touched her tongue to his, inviting him inside. He accepted, exploring her mouth, thrusting and retreating in a carnally familiar rhythm that made her moan softly.
Arousal was a low ache in her body, a weakness in her knees. She reached down, sliding her hand across the front of his jeans and molding her palm to the thick bulge of his erection.
With a husky groan of pleasure, Vince lifted his head from her mouth and pressed his pelvis against her hand. “Damn, baby. See what you do to me?”
A shiver of desire rippled through her. Holding his gaze, she unzipped his jeans and reached inside his boxers. His breath hissed out as her fingers closed around his hard, throbbing dick. The feel of him in her hand made moisture leak from her pussy.
Vince groaned as she slowly caressed him, running her hand up and down his engorged cock. Leaning back on his elbows, he raised and lowered his hips in a sensual thrusting motion, urging her to stroke him harder and faster.
She rubbed her thumb over the swollen head of his dick until she felt the first trickle of precum. As Vince watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, she brought her hand to her mouth and smeared his silky juice across her parted lips, then slowly, provocatively, licked it off.
“Mmmm,” she purred. “I love the way you taste.”
Vince swore under his breath, low and guttural, his eyes burning with raw hunger. Before Rebecca could lower her head to take him into her mouth, he sat up, gripping her shoulders and pressing her back until she was lying on the soft pile of hay.
He unbuckled her belt, unsnapped her jeans and slid them down her legs, her silk panties and ankle boots quickly following. He pressed his palm against the curve of her body, then stroked her pulsing clit with one finger. She arched upward as a breathless moan escaped from her throat.
Suddenly she didn’t give a damn whether the tour guide knew what they were back there doing. All she knew was that she wanted Vince, wanted him like no other man she’d ever wanted before. It was amazing how he’d stripped away all her inhibitions in such a short amount of time.
He covered her with his body and crushed his mouth to hers. Their tongues met and tangled hotly.
Breaking the erotic kiss, Vince fished out a condom from his wallet, then shoved down his jeans and boxers. Breathlessly Rebecca watched as he smoothed the latex over his erection and settled between her thighs. She felt the hot length of his cock against her throbbing pussy and spread her legs wide to welcome him, so aroused she was already on the ver
ge of coming apart.
Their gazes locked as he rose above her. Grasping her hips, he lifted her slightly and filled her with one deep, back-arching thrust. Rebecca bit her lip to stifle the sharp cry that rose in her throat—just in case the driver could hear above the clatter of the wagon wheels.
They quickly found their rhythm, the gentle rocking of the wagon fueling their passion. Vince reached between their bodies and fingered her hard clit, and she gasped into his mouth. Her pussy clenched for a moment, then began to spasm around his dick. As she came, her head went back and her voice rang out with a rapturous moan she couldn’t contain.
Vince groaned and thrust harder and deeper inside her, driving her to another blinding orgasm as he came, his powerful body bucking against hers. This time they cried out together.
For long moments afterward they held each other tight, Rebecca’s face buried against Vince’s neck as their ragged pants filled the air.
At length Vince lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Wow. That was…something.”
“Mmmm,” Rebecca purred, idly stroking his firm, delectable butt. “How long did you say this hayride is?”
“One hour. It’s only been thirty minutes.” His eyes glinted wickedly. “Are you ready for round two?”
“More than ready.”
As he rolled over and pulled her on top of him, she quickly straddled his hips, prepared to show him just how ready she was.
Chapter
10
Two days later, Rebecca was walking on air as she boarded the elevator at her apartment building. Since meeting Vince last week, she’d had the most amazing sex of her life, not to mention some incredibly romantic interludes.
After their steamy hayride on Sunday, Vince had taken her to dinner at a cozy little restaurant with waterfront views of the Inner Harbor. Afterward they’d strolled along the pier holding hands and talking as if they’d known each other for years instead of a few days. After another explosive night of lovemaking, they’d risen early and strolled to Lexington Market, where they’d shopped for fresh fruit like an old, blissfully married couple.
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