Beg to Die

by Beverly Barton

  Jazzy glanced across the room to where Caleb was all but carrying a drunken customer out the front door, the guy’s fairly sober girlfriend at his side. Caleb made it a point to not let anyone drive drunk. If a customer put up a fuss about Caleb calling a friend or relative to pick him or her up, he took them home himself. And the few times a mean drunk refused Caleb’s help, he simply called the police. Although Caleb was a private man who didn’t share anything personal and stayed out of other people’s affairs, he was a responsible man who couldn’t hide his take-charge, good-guy qualities.

  “Maybe I should rectify that mistake tonight,” Jazzy said aloud the moment the thought crossed her mind. “Oh, hell. You heard me say that, didn’t you?”

  Lacy laughed. “Thinking out loud will get you into trouble.”

  “You don’t think giving things a try with Caleb would be a big mistake, do you? Let’s face it, I’ve made so many mistakes already that I—”

  “Your only big mistake was loving Jamie Upton,” Lacy told her. “And believe me, Caleb McCord is nothing like Jamie. He’s twice the man—make that ten times the man—that Jamie could ever be. You just gotta get Jamie out of your system, once and for all.”

  “He’s out.” When Lacy gave her a speculative look, she told her, “I swear I’m over Jamie. I just don’t want to rush into anything where I could wind up getting hurt or hurting someone else.”

  “Life’s a crap shoot.” Lacy removed her apron, folded it, and laid it beneath the bar. “I’m heading out.” She lifted the hinged countertop, then paused and said, “Jamie is snake eyes on the first shot. Caleb is definitely a seven or an eleven on the first roll of the dice.”

  Jazzy managed a smile. Just barely.

  Only moments after Lacy left, Caleb came back in through the front entrance. His long, slightly shaggy, brown hair appeared windblown, making Jazzy wonder if the predicted springtime thunderstorm was already brewing.

  “Is it raining yet?” she asked.

  Caleb closed and locked the door. “Not yet, but I caught a glimpse of some heavy lightning back in the west. We just might get a gully-washer in a few hours.”

  “Why don’t you head on home,” Jazzy suggested. “I can finish locking up.”

  “I’m in no hurry.” He moved with sleek, pantherlike grace as he came toward her. “Have you had supper?”

  “Supper?”

  “You know, the meal eaten in the evenings.”

  She shook her head. “I lost my appetite before I had a chance to eat over at Jasmine’s. But come to think of it, I am a bit hungry.”

  “Unless you want to open up over at Jasmine’s and fix us something, we could go upstairs”—he glanced at the ceiling, indicating her apartment above—“and I could whip us up some bacon and eggs. I’m not much of a cook, but I’m a whiz at bacon and eggs.”

  “I’m tempted. Especially if you add buttered toast to the menu. I haven’t had a man cook for me in a long time. Not since I hired a male chef at Jasmine’s about three years ago. He was a wizard in the kitchen, but he had sticky fingers. I caught him stealing and fired him on the spot.”

  Caleb eased closer and closer until he stood only a couple of feet away. “If I cook for you, I’ll expect payment for my work.”

  Her eyes widened as her mouth gaped open. Well, that was blatant enough. Had he just told her he expected sex as payment for meal preparation? “I believe I told you once before that I don’t put out on a first date.”

  “This won’t be a date,” he said. “Besides, I never do any bartering or trading when it comes to sex. The payment I was referring to is a date. A real date.”

  A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Mm-hmm. You’re being awfully nice to me tonight. I’m surprised, especially after the way you acted this morning when you introduced me to your new friend, Reve Sorrell. You accused me of sleeping with Jamie last night.”

  Caleb rubbed his cheek, the one Jazzy had soundly slapped this morning when he’d told her he didn’t give a shit who she slept with. “And you most definitely set me straight.”

  “Not that I owe you an explanation, but…” She paused, hoping more talk about her much discussed, much bemoaned relationship with Jamie didn’t ruin the nice and easy conversation she and Caleb were having. “Jamie came by last night and offered me a place in his life as his mistress, after he married Laura Willis.”

  “Damned stupid son of a bitch!”

  “I refused his offer. He asked to stay and talk for a while. I agreed, as a good-bye gesture. He did not stay the night, and nothing more than a kiss happened between us.”

  “A kiss, huh?”

  She nodded. “He’s out of my life for good. I swear. I know I’ve said that before, and I’ve meant it. I have not given in to Jamie’s demands since he came back to Cherokee County in January. Yes, I was tempted at first, but not anymore. I don’t love him. I don’t want him.”

  Caleb moved so quickly that she barely had time to catch her breath before he grabbed her face between his two large hands. “If you really mean that…”

  “I do,” she told him with breathless anticipation. God, how she wanted Caleb to kiss her.

  “I don’t like the idea that you even let him kiss you.” Caleb ran his thumb over her bottom lip, then pulled her lip down, opening her mouth.

  “Jealous?”

  “Got that right.”

  He kissed her then. Kissed her like she’d never been kissed. And she was certainly no novice. He held her face, cupped between his strong hands, and took her mouth with gentle authority. No rushing. No roughness. But a powerful tenderness that took her breath away. As the tip of his tongue circled her lips, she swayed toward him, her body yearning for a closer connection. When he delved his tongue inside her mouth, probing with expert ease, she moaned deep in her throat. Her feminine core throbbed and moistened. With nothing more than a kiss, he had aroused her. And just when the kiss got even better, he lifted his lips from hers, raised his head, and slowly, provocatively slid his hands over either side of her neck, across her shoulders, and down her arms. Then he released her.

  She stood there, staring at him, her pulse pounding frantically.

  “You do have bacon and eggs in the fridge, don’t you?” he asked.

  “What?” It took her befuddled brain a few seconds to realize what he was talking about—the meal he’d offered to prepare for her. Good God, how could he kiss her like that, then stop so suddenly and act as if nothing had happened between them?

  “Food,” he replied. “Supper. Remember? I’m cooking. We’re eating. And in payment for my services, you’ll go on an honest-to-goodness real date with me.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. I—I’ve got bacon and eggs in my refrigerator.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Then come on, woman, let’s lock up and get out of here.”

  A feeling of excitement raced through Jazzy, a light, carefree exuberance that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Without those heavy emotional chains that bound her to Jamie, she might actually have a chance at happiness. Tonight, she told herself, is the beginning of the rest of your life.

  Jamie was always ready for an adventure, so he was looking forward to slipping away, just the two of them, in the dark of night, while the good citizens of Cherokee County slept safely in their beds, only dreaming of the kind of life he enjoyed. Whereas Jamie didn’t just dream about excitement and danger, he experienced it firsthand. What man alive didn’t fantasize about having a variety of females at his beck and call? Of screwing a different woman every night?

  She had told him to pretend they’d never met. To act as if he was a hitchhiker she’d picked up on the road. Wouldn’t it be fun, she’d said, to act out one of her fantasies? Hell, yes, it would be fun. He wasn’t quite sure what she had in mind, but he was game.

  Jamie crept quietly down the back stairs, hoping he didn’t awaken anyone. He sure as hell didn’t want his future in-laws or his grandfather catching him sneaking off this way. And would
n’t they be surprised if they knew who he was going to meet? He had been more than a little surprised himself when she’d made the suggestion. It just went to show that you never knew a person, never really had any idea what they would and wouldn’t do. He loved the idea that there was a wildly wicked side to her. Wilder than he’d ever suspected. And hopefully very, very wicked.

  He punched in the security code at the back door and rushed outside, making sure to deadbolt the lock. He’d be home before anyone—even their housekeeper Dora—woke, and he could reactivate the security system then.

  The early morning breeze penetrated his sport coat as he made his way around the house and down the long driveway.

  “I’ll pick you up at the gate,” she’d told him. “Remember, you’re a hitchhiker. Play your part well and I’ll reward you.”

  The thought of that reward had his heart racing and his libido heading into overdrive. What nasty little games did she have in mind? His sex hardened when a very interesting idea entered his head. If she didn’t take their playacting to where he wanted it to go, then he would take over and show her just what real sexual exploration was all about—the pain and the ecstasy.

  As he neared the front gate, he spotted a car. Not the vehicle she usually drove. He smiled to himself. Hell, she’d even rented a car as part of their game. And not just any car. A snazzy little sports car. From where he stood, he couldn’t quite make out the color and the model. As soon as he made his way through the walkway to the side of the massive gates, he all but ran toward the car. He grabbed the handle on the passenger side and found the door unlocked. After swinging the door open, he peered inside and took a long, appreciative look at the driver.

  “What’s with the wig?” he asked her, but suddenly realized who she resembled with the wig on.

  She caressed the strands of the short, red hair that framed her face. “Don’t you like it? I thought it might be more fun for you if we pretended I was Jazzy Talbot.”

  He chuckled softly as he got in and closed the door. “It just might be fun at that.”

  “So are you ready for our adventure?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m ready, willing, and able.” He patted his crotch.

  “Hi there.” She lowered her natural voice to a sultry, baby-doll whisper. “Can I give you a lift somewhere? I’m traveling all alone and sure would like some company. Masculine company…if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I know exactly what you mean. And I’d love a ride. Just take me wherever you’re going.”

  “Buckle your seat belt, handsome, and hold on tight.”

  The minute Jamie buckled the safety belt, she sped off in a flash. With her foot pressing harder and harder on the gas pedal, the car zoomed up the mountain road.

  “Are you in a hurry?” he asked teasingly.

  “You have no idea how eager I am to make it to my destination as soon as possible.”

  “Can’t wait for another kind of ride, huh?” He reached across the console and ran his hand up the inside of her leg, from knee to crotch.

  “You’re the one who should be eager. I promise you that it’ll be the ride of your life.”

  Tiffany Reid knew she was an idiot for getting involved with Dillon Carson. The guy was years older than she and he had a reputation as a lady-killer. But heaven help her, she found him downright irresistible. It wasn’t that he was drop-dead gorgeous, but he was interesting and exciting and was great in the sack. He’d waited around at Jazzy’s Joint tonight until she got off work over at Jasmine’s. Then, since he’d had a little too much to drink, she persuaded him to let her drive. She lived just outside of town, about two miles on the other side of the Upton Farm. When her stepmother died a couple of years ago, she had inherited the old home place. It wasn’t much and needed a lot of work. But on the plus side, the rent was free.

  Just as she turned off the main road onto the mountain road, a car came up quickly behind them. In her rearview mirror, she could see it was a small sports car of some sort and it appeared the driver’s side of the hood was smashed in. Since not many people were out on the mountain road this late at night, she wondered who was in the car. Despite the fact Tiffany was doing the speed limit, the sports car’s driver apparently was in a hurry. Only a couple of seconds later, the vehicle zoomed around them at breakneck speed and quickly disappeared up the narrow, winding road.

  “Did you see who was driving that car?” Dillon asked.

  “No, why? Did you recognize him?”

  “Wasn’t a him. It was a her. And even though I just caught a glimpse, I think it might have been your boss lady, Jazzy Talbot.”

  “No way. What would she be doing way out here? Besides, she drives a red Jeep.”

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure it was her, but the lady driving had short red hair and was wearing a pair of big gold hoop earrings like Jazzy wears a lot.”

  “Aren’t you the observant one, paying attention to what kind of jewelry Jazzy wears.”

  “Hey, a guy would have to be dead not to notice a hot tamale like Jazzy.” Dillon undid the seat belt she’d made him buckle, slid across the seat, and cuddled up to her. “But there’s no need to be jealous. You’re the woman I’m with tonight. You’ll have my undivided attention every minute we’re together.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Just take me home with you and let me show you.”

  Yeah, she was most definitely an idiot for dating Dillon. He was a lot of fun, but for a girl who’d like to settle down, get married, and have a couple of kids, he was the wrong man. But most of the marrying kind who lived in Cherokee County were so boring. And that’s one thing Dillon wasn’t. She supposed that was the reason she kept coming back for more of his good loving.

  “Where is this place?” Jamie asked as she stopped the car in front of what appeared to be little more than a hovel.

  “It’s my hideaway,” she told him. “Come on. Get out. I have a surprise waiting for you inside.”

  “Have you had the place fumigated for vermin?” he asked jokingly.

  “The only vermin around this place is you, Jamie, my love.”

  When she got out, he followed her quickly—up the dirt path, up the rickety wooden steps, and onto the partially rotted wooden porch. When she paused at the door, he came up behind her, slipped his arm around her waist, and nuzzled her neck.

  She hated him. Hated him with a passion. It took every ounce of her willpower to endure his vile touch. Whenever she thought about how she might have to let him fuck her again, she wanted to vomit. Don’t think about it, she told herself. Just think about what you have planned, about all the delectable things you’re going to do to him. When he’s touching you, kissing you, concentrate on the revenge you will exact.

  The door opened easily, creaking on its rusty hinges. She led him into the interior, lit only by kerosene lamps and the logs burning in the fireplace. When she’d come up here late this afternoon to prepare the setting for Jamie’s seduction and ultimate downfall, she hadn’t been sure the fireplace was in good working order. They could have shown up and found the place burned to the ground. But she’d had to choose an out of the way place, somewhere miles from the nearest other house. After all, when Jamie was screaming in agony, she didn’t want anyone to hear him and start snooping.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Jamie said as he looked around the room.

  “Cozy and private,” she said.

  She’d prepared a pallet on the floor with quilts she’d bought at various shops in Pigeon Forge, the kind that thousands of tourists bought every year. No way would anyone ever trace them back to her. A bottle of merlot she’d picked up at a local liquor store rested between two fat feather pillows directly in front of the fireplace. She moved away from Jamie and made her way over to the corner, where she’d placed a portable radio. After turning on the radio, she flipped through the stations until she found some soft, romantic music.

  While he watched in fascination,
she disrobed. Slowly. Doing a striptease for him. The sooner she subdued him, the sooner the fun would begin. Naked, her gaze focused on Jamie, she sat down on the pallet, opened the bottle of wine and poured the rich burgundy liquid into two green crystal flutes. What Jamie didn’t know was that waiting in the bottom of one of the glasses was a potent sedative. Something that would render him helpless for a couple of hours. Long enough for her to prepare him for his so richly deserved reward for being a cruel, cunning, manipulative son of a bitch.

  Jamie surveyed her naked body, then removed his own clothes and came over to accept the glass of wine she offered him. Before he put the glass to his lips, he grinned wickedly. “You’ve got a great body,” he told her. “Despite…well, you know.”

  “So gentlemanly of you not to come right out and say it.” She responded with a smile every bit as genuine as his and twice as wicked.

  He sipped the wine. Some cheap stuff she’d picked up at a busy store where she was certain no one would remember her. She’d been wearing sunglasses and nondescript clothes, making herself look as forgettable as possible. Just another tourist.

  Jamie finished off the wine quickly, then set the glass on the pallet and reached for her. Inside she cringed the moment he touched her, but outwardly she responded as most of the women he’d seduced had no doubt done.

  When she pressed her naked body against his, he sighed loudly. “Oh, darlin’, your heart’s beating like mad and you’re trembling. You’re as excited as I am, aren’t you?”

  “You can’t imagine how excited I am.”

  The anticipation was delicious. It was only a matter of time now. Of course she was excited. She could hardly wait until he passed out. Until he was rendered helpless and completely at her mercy. Oh, the marvelous things she had planned for him. Her little bag of tricks was hidden neatly away in the other room. Thick leather straps. Sturdy railroad spikes that would anchor so nicely into the old wooden floor in this room. Razors. Knives. A poker that could be heated to a sizzling red hot in the fireplace flames.