Southern Spirits

by Edie Bingham

  Cat felt a twinge inside, and looked down at the woman. ‘Tara, our bodies, in real life, are they . . . ?’

  Tara nodded, as her cool hands pressed against the inside of Cat’s thighs, gently but insistently urging them apart. ‘We can stop at any time.’ Then she buried her face against Cat’s groin, breathing hotly onto her through the panties and making Cat quiver.

  If Cat had any thoughts of stopping this, they had vanished.

  She felt her skin flush as Tara’s fingers teasingly pulled down the panties, helping one of Cat’s legs out of them but leaving the underwear hanging around the other ankle.

  Then she returned to Cat’s pussy, her hot tongue trailing up and around the edge of her bush and over the slim curve of her belly. Cat let loose a growl as her sex throbbed impatiently, as her hands gripped the edge of the DeLorean.

  Tara’s tongue dipped, teasingly, playing with the roots of Cat’s pubic hair, before grazing silkily along Cat’s slit. Cat yelped with electric pleasure, her body writhing and her bare ass rubbing against the car, as Tara’s tongue swirled around her cleft, the tip curling up to find and flick against her clit. Her back arched as tight as a piano wire. ‘Madre de Dios.’

  Tara’s tongue jabbed, delved and circled, and her moist hot breath caressed Cat’s skin. Cat’s hands became fists, which pounded against the stainless steel frame of the car. Tara grabbed her by the hips and jabbed deep into her, suckling on her clit, keeping a steady, tortuous pace, circling, sucking, circling and sucking repeatedly.

  Cat came convulsively, her body shaking and slipping off its tenuous perch on the car, landing on her rear, her legs spread obscenely as she gripped Tara. Still riding high on her climax, she began laughing, hugging and kissing Tara, a part of her still able to see herself as Priscilla in 1981, fucking with Daddy’s new toy . . .

  . . . ‘Cat?’

  Cat looked up at Nathan.

  12

  Donnie lay on his berth bed, hands folded behind his head, a wide indulgent grin on his face as he looked up at the woman sitting at his side. ‘Tonight, after the costume party, I’ll be inviting Jack along to the Playroom. He likes to tie me up in there, and it’s lockable and soundproofed. But tonight, he’ll be the one in the chains. Then I’ll let you in, and we can begin persuading him to sign the papers.’ Her voice was as sweet as honey, catching his full attention.

  The hand she had wrapped around his erection, languidly drawing his foreskin up and down, didn’t hurt either. ‘Papers, yeah.’

  ‘Yes, the papers. I’ve had transfer of ownership papers printed out, and I know the right lawyers in New Orleans to make it legal. But we have to get him to sign over first.’

  ‘Yeah.’ His eyes were beginning to droop, even as his excitement was mounting. Since late last night, they must have fucked, sucked and licked a half-dozen times, each time Faye reinforcing her arguments and refining her – their – plans. It was as if she was conditioning him, eliminating any lingering doubts.

  As it happened, she had him at the first orgasm.

  ‘He’s tough, but not that tough,’ she continued, her thumb swivelling up to stroke his cockhead, smearing pre-come over the silky surface. She’d suggested just masturbating him rather than have a full fuck, citing her tired muscles, and Donnie couldn’t help but agree to it, feeling too lazy for anything more strenuous. Besides, wasn’t he gonna be doing the lion’s share of the work tonight, putting the muscle on Wheeler?

  ‘Do you have a gun?’ she asked him, slowing down her stroking motions. ‘Well?’

  ‘Mmm? No, darling, never needed one.’ Which was good, given that Uncle Leo repeatedly refused to let him have one. At first, Donnie thought he was being punished for that time he’d accidentally left the keys in one of Leo’s delivery trucks, letting it be stolen. However, Leo had forgiven him for that – after all, it wasn’t as if Donnie was just some nameless goon in his mob.

  Leo and Donnie’s father had been the prime movers in setting up their organisation in Tampa and, though his mother tried to shield him from the realities, the young Donnie had quickly learnt, and quickly warmed to the lifestyle. Especially to Leo, with his cheetah smile and dynamic confidence, and it shamed him those times when he felt even closer to Uncle Leo than his own father. And when Donnie was fourteen, and his dad had been killed in a police raid following a botched bank heist, it was Leo who had taken Donnie and his mother under his wing.

  It was a sweet climb. But not without cost. April, for instance. She’d been generous, funny, beautiful.

  And unfaithful. Leo, ever careful, had run some background checks, and provided harsh photographic proof of her infidelity. ‘It’s a stark lesson,’ Leo had told him, with much sympathy, ‘but loyalty is as necessary to us as breathing.’

  Donnie couldn’t face her; Leo had thoughtfully sent him on an errand, while he sent some of his boys to help April pack up and find someone else. But Leo had been right, such treachery could not be forgiven, and so he had stood his ground and cut her out of his life. She had been good to him, but not as good as Leo had.

  And with this woman, this train, he’d get more from his uncle.

  Memories of April – and that weird black chick name-dropping her last night – threatened to dampen his mood. Better to push the unfaithful bitch aside. She was history.

  Suddenly Faye stopped masturbating him, rising. ‘Hey.’

  A look of regret crossed her face. ‘Sorry, stud, but I’m late for a train activity, and I don’t want Jack to get suspicious. You don’t mind finishing yourself off, do you?’

  ‘What? You gotta be kidding me, woman.’

  She smiled. ‘It’s gonna be a hell of a turn-on for me, thinking of you in here, pleasuring yourself. And tonight, once this train is mine, we’ll celebrate like we never have before.’ She nodded to his waiting cock. ‘Well? Go on.’

  He grunted, smiled and reached for his own shaft. He enjoyed her watching him before she departed, determined to come and get some sleep before tonight. And as his pumping increased, he considered how much his fortunes had changed in the last few days: he had a hot woman hungry for him, a chance to take some frustration out on that dickhead Wheeler for looking down on him and the opportunity to make an indelible mark in Uncle Leo’s eyes.

  Who said crime didn’t pay?

  Nathan stood at the door to the sauna, the cool air he let in banishing away the images of the boxcar. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  Cat froze, as if by the cold air, and she realised she was on the floor of the sauna, naked and sweat-covered with Tara and her wrapped up in each other’s limbs, as Tara pulled down their towels from the bench.

  Nathan stepped inside, his posture tense as he approached Cat. ‘Are you OK?’

  With a sudden rush of acute embarrassment, Cat rose and wrapped the towel around her waist. ‘Si, I’m fine. Stop looking at me.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you in the privacy of this public place. Come back to the berth, we need to talk.’

  ‘This is such a flashback to the high school prom.’ Tara wrapped her own towel around her, raising a hand in his direction. ‘Mr Ames, perhaps I can explain –’

  ‘Perhaps not.’ He never took his eyes off Cat. ‘Mind your own business. All of you.’

  Behind him, the Olivers, looking ready to intervene, stayed silent instead.

  Nathan’s unprecedented rudeness shook Cat from her lingering waves of euphoria and confusion. ‘Hound, maybe you should calm down and listen –’

  ‘This is me, calm, Agent Montoya.’

  It was his deliberate use of Cat’s proper title in front of Tara that convinced her to take this elsewhere. She turned to the woman. ‘Sorry about this. I’ll try to explain it to him.’

  However, Tara appeared unoffended by Nathan’s discourtesy, leaning in to whisper, ‘Don’t tell, show. And use your anger when it’s needed. It’s one of your greatest strengths.’ Then she drew back and kissed Cat on the lips, a gesture of affection, a reminder o
f the remarkable sensual experience they had just shared.

  There was another caress of cold air as Nathan opened the sauna door again, wiping sweat from his brow. ‘Now.’

  In the corridor, she turned to him. ‘My clothes, in that box.’

  He glanced down, picked up the box in question and held it, not offering to let her get dressed now. And such was her shock at his responses, that she didn’t argue, preferring to make her way as swiftly as possible back to their berth, ignoring the curious looks from the few passengers they passed, as the storm outside lashed against the train windows. But as she walked back with Nathan directly behind her, her anger overcame her need to stay calm and rational. How dare he talk to her like that, and in front of the others! No matter the provocation, it was uncalled for.

  She felt her fury boil within her, and she let it grow, until they were back in the berth, and she spun to face him. ‘Idiota! What the fuck was that about? Revealing who I was in front of civilians.’

  For his part, Nathan’s face seemed to mirror her own ire. ‘Why not? You seemed to be revealing everything else to them in there, and to anyone else who might have come in.’

  Embarrassment shot through her, but she took that and converted it to additional fuel for her anger. ‘What’s wrong, sorry you weren’t invited to watch sooner? I’m not your wife, I’m not your child and I’m not your subordinate. I’m your partner, comprende?’

  Nathan’s scowl never wavered. ‘I know that. And I was proud that you’d be my partner. I’m the one who defended your professionalism to all those dicks back in Miami.’

  Cat tightened the towel around her. ‘Give me my clothes.’

  He dropped the box at her feet.

  ‘Now turn around.’

  He grunted, but relented. ‘A little late to be showing modesty, don’t you think?’

  She dropped her towel, reaching for. ‘Besame el culo! What was I to wear in a sauna?’

  ‘Was it hot too when you were fucking Wheeler?’

  Cat paused, and then resumed drawing her panties up her thighs. ‘That’s not the issue.’ She ignored her bra and slacks and slipped into her blouse.

  ‘Then why keep it hidden from me? Everything hidden?’

  His tone suggested knowledge to back this up, and she realised that he had learnt something. However, she remained defensive. ‘Oh? And what the hell else do you think I’ve been hiding?’

  ‘A request to Gordy about voodoo spirits, about a fifty-year– old Mob mystery, one that Wheeler is involved in, in some way? Trying to help a known criminal, one you’re investigating? Someone who’s been secretly monitoring us from the moment we boarded?’

  ‘What?’

  He’d walked over to the couch and picked up the disconnected camera and microphone, showing it to her.

  Cat suddenly felt exposed, recalling the times Nathan and she had talked in here, when they’d made love, when she’d masturbated. She mouthed, ‘Is it clear?’ When he nodded, she asked, ‘Dios, how did you find this?’

  ‘Faye mentioned it. Don’t worry, she said they couldn’t hear us. That’s how Wheeler knew about the phone, but didn’t know what was said.’

  Relief sapped Cat’s anger, a welcome substitute for the earlier mortification that their mission may have been compromised from the start, not to mention their integrity. But she couldn’t shake off the acknowledgement that Nathan was right to be angry with her, that she had concealed things from him. She had her reasons, and she still stuck by them, but it didn’t detract from the wrongness of it all.

  Now, however, she felt more confident in her situation and her knowledge of it. Besides, if she kept silent any longer about what was going on, she would explode, or Nathan would come up with something far worse.

  They had to trust each other again.

  ‘Hound,’ she finally breathed out, feeling her anger and anxiety subside, not leaving entirely but falling into a manageable state, ‘if I tell you what’s going on, will you promise to believe me?’ It was a stupid question and she knew it. How can anyone promise something like that? Especially what she had to say to him.

  Yet, Nathan nodded and replied immediately, ‘Of course.’

  It bolstered her confidence, a little. She breathed out again, and chose her words as carefully as possible. ‘Nathan, I know this is going to sound like something out of The X Files, but . . . this train has a spirit of its own. It carries the memories of people who have ridden in it, like echoes. What’s more, people today can experience those memories, in the form of dreams or visions. I’ve been experiencing the memories of a woman from fifty years ago, named Valentina. She was married against her will to a mobster named Mickey, but her secret lover Enrique travelled with her. At first, I put these down to dreams, and then hypnosis or hallucinogens Wheeler might have slipped me. However, I was wrong. They’re real. And I think I’m seeing them in order to solve the mystery of what happened to Val.’

  She ran out of breath, and felt herself much better for finally getting it off her chest.

  That feeling lasted all of three seconds, before Nathan spoke. ‘Cat . . . this is your first assignment. You’ve been under a lot of pressure –’

  ‘Dios!’ she snapped. ‘I knew it. I knew you’d say that.’

  ‘Of course. What did you expect? That I’d swallow some story of spirits and visions? Wheeler clearly has you brainwashed.’

  ‘But I’ve talked with other people, and they’ve experienced the same things. The Olivers, Tara –’

  ‘Oh, your fuck partners, well, that convinces me now.’ Nathan paced around in disbelief. ‘You ask me to believe what you say, and then shovel me something so patently unbelievable?’

  ‘Yes. That’s when I need you the most.’ Frustration welled up within her, and she paced in the opposite direction, then stopped and stared out the window at the rain-lashed countryside speeding by. Damn it, she knew it would be difficult to tell him . . .

  Don’t tell, show . . .

  She looked him over, an idea sparked inside her, one that was still blossoming as she sniffed the air around him. ‘Pretty Persuasion. Cheap perfume on you, a scent Faye wears. And there are smudges on your trousers.’ She was lying, of course, but it didn’t matter. Her face went dark with a sudden fury. ‘So, nothing happened between you and her, huh?’

  Nathan frowned. ‘What? I never said –’

  ‘How dare you lecture me when you’ve been off fucking that tramp?’

  Nathan’s face was a picture of disbelief at the tangent their talk had taken. ‘This isn’t about me.’

  But Cat was in the throes of a genuine tantrum, a Latin storm to match the one outside – and only partly affected for the benefit of her plan. ‘Was she good, pendejo? Nice juicy ass on her? Did you get off?’

  ‘I’m not gonna play this game.’

  He started to turn away, but she reached out and pulled him back, desperate for him not to make the wrong move and leave. ‘Don’t even think of going to her, bastard!’

  ‘I’m not interested in her.’

  ‘Lying pig! Don’t deny she’s hot. Hell, I’d fuck her.’ She grunted. ‘Bet you’d get off watching that, wouldn’t you, like you did watching me with Tara?’

  His patience snapped at that. ‘You little hypocrite! You have some nerve, after all you’ve got up to. You’ve been a bit of a puta yourself, haven’t you?’

  Cat snarled, pulled her hand back, ready to land a blow, knowing he would see it and stop her before she inflicted any real damage.

  She was right. Nathan blocked her swing, and then another, pushed her up against the nearest wall and pinned her arms behind her as she tried in vain to pull free. Well, she tried a little, mostly struggling vocally with him, cursing and snapping. A few manoeuvres, and she could put up a better fight. And both of them knew it. But it wasn’t about having a serious scrap with him.

  She craved feeling him close against her, smelling him, feeling his erection pressed against her. Her breath was hissing hard and
fast, and she gasped as he leant in and growled, ‘I never wanted her. I never wanted anyone as much as I want you, you stupid little bitch.’

  ‘Prove it, pajiero.’

  Anger – and passion – blazed as he dipped his head and kissed her, hard and rough, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Cat kissed him back, matching his fury, arching her body against his as she still tried to pull her hands free from his grip.

  Suddenly she bit his lip until he yelped and pulled back from her mouth, and she panted, ‘Is that . . . Is that the best you can do, pajiero?’

  ‘I haven’t even started yet.’ Nathan’s free hand moved to the front of her blouse, yanking until fabric tore, and he dipped his head and captured one of Cat’s now bared breasts between his lips.

  She cursed as she felt his teeth clamp down, and a sharp burst of pain-pleasure shot through her. Fucking hell, this was delicious! It was reawakening her hungers, as her body responded to the feeling of his hard cock pressed against her hip.

  Then Nathan withdrew, releasing her hands but holding her by the hips, watching her intently, ready for the next move she might make. ‘Cat, what the fuck is really going on?’

  ‘Shut up!’ she snapped and, not trusting him to do that, pulled him back into another frantic kiss, tearing at his own shirt until she felt buttons fly like candy from a broken piñata. Then she was at his chest, biting hard on his flesh until he grunted and did something about it.

  He pushed her back against the bed, Cat yelping as she landed on the mattress, smiling up at him, her breasts heaving inside her torn blouse, her panties pulled tight against her puffy sex. ‘Vete a cingar.’

  ‘I’d rather fuck you instead.’ He was upon her, tugging roughly on her panties. Cat struggled with him again, as if to escape, in reality to help him get them off her, and she was half onto her stomach when he’d succeeded. Nathan practically pinned her to the bed as he removed the remains of his shirt and kicked off his shoes. ‘So, is your precious Wheeler this rough with you?’