“I was very sorry to hear about Miss Jazmina.”
“Thank you.” Clarissa made a pretense at straightening the rolled napkin of silverware.
Sophie’s lovely features were drawn taut with tension. “My, um...my family didn’t have the best relationship with her.”
“I see.” Inwardly, Clarissa bristled and started straightening the silverware more diligently. “I’m learning that my aunt didn’t seem to have the best history with much of anyone.”
Sophie smiled and tucked soft, spiral curls behind her ear. “This particular history probably isn’t about what you’re thinking. It’s got to do with my sister instead of my father.” Like most everyone in Philadelphia, Sophie knew all too well about Jazmina Beaumont’s romantic involvements with attached men.
Curiosity bloomed on the perfect oval of Clarissa’s face. Her hands stilled over the table.
“My sister was a cocktail waitress for your aunt back in the day before she was...discovered.”
Clarissa’s curiosity merged into understanding. “Hail...your sister’s not...Viva Hail, is it?”
Sophie’s dark gray eyes narrowed to an amused squint. “The one and only...”
Viva Hail had gone from a commercial actress to leading lady in the span of three years. Not bad for a black girl from Philly with no previous acting experience. Viva’s rise to the top had been well documented by the media. When tabloids, TV and magazines tried to make a scandal of her past employment at Jazzy B’s, Viva took the possibility off the table. She proudly acknowledged her time there. She often thanked Jaz for hiring her and subsequently making her big break possible.
“Your aunt always felt bad for putting a rift between V and the family. I think that may be why she came to me with this. What people thought meant a lot to her.”
“Excuse me, this?”
Sophie shook her head. “Right, um, it’s what I wanted to see you about. Clarissa, did your aunt ever talk to you about...changes she wanted to make with the club?”
“Well, we’re going through some remodeling now, so there’s that....”
“I see.” Sophie tapped a thumbnail to the dent in her chin, considering Clarissa’s response when she blinked at the man approaching the table. She watched Santigo Rodriguez greeting her lunch partner.
When Tigo spotted Sophie, his easygoing, animated demeanor took on an obvious somberness.
“Hey, Tig.” Sophie harbored as much somberness in her quiet greeting.
Clarissa observed the first glimpse of something being subdued in the detective’s confident no-nonsense manner. Not surprising, Clarissa reasoned. Santigo Rodriguez could send any woman off-kilter.
Tigo got himself in check and reluctantly looked away from Sophie before he smiled down at Clarissa again.
“Sorry for interrupting you. Good to see you, Clarissa. Sophie,” he added softly before moving on.
Clarissa decided it’d be best to nudge the conversation along. Even so, she wouldn’t have been opposed to finding out more about the drama residing between the statuesque detective and one of Elias’s partners.
“Was my aunt in some kind of trouble with the club?”
Sophie’s attention refocused. “Not exactly.” She rested her elbows on the table. “But she was concerned that something troubling was going on there.”
“And she came to you with it?” Clarissa couldn’t stop the tightness from creeping into her voice. How much more had Jaz kept from her?
“Clarissa, I think she would have told you if she’d had more to go on.” Sophie leaned in a little as if to assure Clarissa of the fact.
“My aunt kept a lot more than this to herself, Detective.” Clarissa cradled her face in her hands. “I don’t know why I should be surprised by this.”
“Well, if it helps to know, I think she may’ve had a breakthrough of some kind with her suspicions.”
Clarissa sat back and recalled the strange notebook of dancer’s names, alphanumeric numbers and dollar amounts. “What did she say to you?”
“Nothing specific, but I think she was ready to come through with more than she already had.”
“Which was?”
“I met her one day at the club.” Sophie traced the stitching along the cuff of her dark blazer. “She told me that she wanted to change it.”
“The remodeling?”
Sophie slowly shook her head. “I think it was about more than that. I got the idea that she wanted to change the whole...philosophy of it.”
“Wait a minute.” Clarissa laughed and folded her arms over her chest. “Are you saying that she wanted to change it from a strip club?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you.”
“When was this?”
“Almost five months ago.” Sophie waved off the waiter who tried for a second time to take their drink orders. “The meeting ended with Miss Jaz stressing that she’d always tried to run a clean business, for what it was worth. She said there were those who preferred it dirty and they’d make it hard for her to change it.”
“Did you meet again after that?”
“Mmm-hmm, we talked about the club again—it wasn’t exactly police business, but I didn’t mind.” Sophie sipped the water that had been waiting when she and Clarissa took their places at the table. “After the crap hit the fan between Viva and our folks, I pretty much lost contact with my sister. I realized how little I knew about her and talking to Miss Jazz helped.
“She wanted to turn the place into a dancing studio. She talked about all the true talent in the club, said more girls should have the chance to be discovered like V was. She wanted to do more to make that possible for them.” Sophie trailed a nail along the sweating glass. “We met a few more times after that—conversation was pretty much the same and then a few weeks ago, Miss J called saying she’d figured out whatever was going on. She said she wanted us to meet and that she wanted you there.”
Clarissa could do nothing to mask her stupefied expression.
Sophie took pity. “I’m sorry to lay all this on you so soon after...”
“It’s fine. I needed to hear it.”
“Your aunt was sure that she was on to something. I don’t think she’d have called me unless that ‘something’ was criminal.” Sophie reached into an inside pocket on the fitted blazer she wore. “I’d like you to call me if anything weird sticks out to you.” She slid her card across the table and squeezed Clarissa’s hand when she accepted it.
“Thanks for seeing me.” Sophie smiled and left the table.
Clarissa held the card in one hand while she gripped the table in the other and willed her tears not to make an appearance.
Chapter 10
Elias decided to take the mysterious list of names to Barker and get his impressions or suspicions.... Eli figured it couldn’t hurt to have a few more facts in place when he spoke to Cleve Echols again.
Talking to Barker, however, was the last thing on his mind when he arrived at the Hemming Bar and Grill. He saw Clarissa strolling past the double doors of the establishment. He watched as she headed for the curb as though she were about to hail a cab. He hit the gas on the Navigator, rolling to a stop alongside her before she could lift a hand.
Too stunned to even speak his name, Clarissa only stood there blinking. Her mouth was parted in surprise.
“Where to?” he inquired simply, staring at her from behind a pair of sunglasses that shielded his ice-blue gaze.
“Home,” Clarissa said even though she was planning to meet Rayelle back at the club.
“Get in.”
She didn’t refuse or hesitate to accept his request.
Elias waited on her to get settled in the passenger seat, allowing him to survey the seductive shape of her legs and the appealing plumpness of her thighs wh
ich were bared when the wind caught the flaring hemline of the powder-blue dress she wore.
“Your aunt’s place, the hotel or the apartment you keep uptown?”
She was speechless over the fact that he knew of the apartment she mostly used for storage, but she made no comment. He probably knew every square inch of the city and who occupied it, she reasoned.
“The hotel’s fine,” she said in a small voice. Silently, she asked herself what the hell she thought she was doing. Hoping for a repeat of last night? What would he think of her if he knew that’s exactly where her thoughts were centered? She drifted back to the present time to see him bypass the hotel exit. She was sure it hadn’t been a mistake and decided to wait to see what he had in mind.
An unfamiliar acoustic piece floated from the speakers and worked its much-needed magic on her frazzled nerves. As if obeying some unspoken hypnotic suggestion, Clarissa leaned back on the headrest and urged her mind to calm.
* * *
Elias stopped the Navigator in the reserved spot outside the townhome he kept just inside the city limits. He silenced the ignition and waited for Clarissa to ask why they were there and where there was.
No sound emerged from the passenger side of the vehicle. It was only then that he discovered she had fallen asleep.
With his striking stare narrowed to a blue-green line, Elias angled his large frame on the seat and watched her doze. The provocative set of his wide mouth was curved into a faint smile. He outlined every inch of her lovely almond-toned face—first with his eyes and then with his fingertips which found Clarissa’s mouth to be the most inviting stop along the tour.
She shifted slightly on the seat. The tip of her tongue darted out to lick her lips, brushing the pad of his thumb in the process.
Elias groaned a curse. “Clarissa? Clarissa, wake up.” He squeezed her thigh, lingering much longer than he knew was necessary. His fingers curled into the flesh of her upper thigh and he studied the changes in her expression as she reacted to his touch.
“Clarissa.” His clear baritone was softer and the squeeze to her thigh became a self-serving massage. All the while, he watched her face as though he was in awe of her—and he was.
He suddenly realized what was fueling his fascination—his infatuation with her. It wasn’t that she looked like the woman who reminded him of the worst time in his life. She looked like the woman he was falling in love with.
“How the hell did that happen?” he muttered.
“Eli.” Clarissa’s lashes drifted apart just barely, she was still mostly asleep.
“Hey?” Eli sat closer, kissing her ear once, twice... “Clarissa?”
He left the SUV and came around to make a more effective stab at waking her. Briefly, he played with the idea of carrying her inside, but he quickly decided against that. Not that she couldn’t use the lift. He dismissed the arrogant boast that taunted of her exhaustion having to do with last night’s encounter.
Eli’s nudges finally pulled Clarissa from her slumber. When her eyes opened and her gaze fully focused, she gave a start at finding him there.
“Had a stop to make first,” he explained before she could ask. “Didn’t want to leave you out here asleep.”
“You passed the exit.” Her words carried on a drowsy brogue.
“Did I?”
Clarissa was still too groggy and drunk on his closeness to challenge his phony innocence.
“Come inside with me.”
It wasn’t a request yet Clarissa found herself taking the hand he offered. Her steps were careful at first but the sleepiness that affected her gait had dissipated by the time they took the wide steps up to the stoop.
Eli opened the door and waved her inside. Clarissa’s steps turned slow again at the discovery that they were inside his home. Subconsciously, she backed toward the door and wound up bumping against Eli instead. He squeezed her elbow; the scent of his cologne enveloped her when he bent his head close to hers.
“I said ‘inside’ not ‘outside.’”
“I shouldn’t be here.” She grimaced over the sudden shortness of breath that sent her ample bustline heaving.
“Why?” he asked.
She kept her eyes on the gray marbled texture of the flooring.
Elias walked around to face Clarissa; his eyes were intent on her face. “Why shouldn’t you be here?” he persisted.
Clarissa kept her head down. She knew one glance into the blue fire of his gaze would be her undoing.
“I’ve been inside your home, haven’t I?” He was setting her back against the door. Trailing his thumb across her jaw, he then followed the move with his nose and finally his mouth.
“I’ve been inside your home,” he murmured, adding the faintest hint of tongue to the path he charted at her jaw. “Inside your home, inside you...”
Clarissa pressed her lips together in hopes of stifling the moan demanding its freedom. “You weren’t too thrilled about it last night.” She took strength from someplace deep and threw the question to his side of the court.
Elias took her chin then and made her look at him. “Definitely thrilled by the fact, but not by where the fact was proven.”
Her lips were barely parted when his tongue found its way between them. Clarissa wanted to slide down the door at her back, but Elias picked her up and placed her high against his broad frame. She heard her pumps clatter to the marble when her legs encircled his waist.
Elias treated himself, allowing his hands free rein over the delicious form he’d helped to awaken. They traveled across her curves as he drove his tongue hotly, wetly inside her mouth.
Clarissa could barely thrust her tongue back against his. Moans were taking over. Her stocking feet roamed his trouser legs and she rubbed herself against him in a manner that was purely wanton. Her fingertips curled into the open collar of the black denim long-sleeve shirt hanging open over a navy blue undershirt. She wanted it all gone and succeeded in brushing the shirt to the floor.
At the sound of his whimper, she made quick work of the undershirt, moving it up his wide torso. They broke the kiss just long enough for her to push the garment over his head.
Elias secured his hold on her bottom, cradling the fully rounded mounds neatly in his palms which eased their way beneath Clarissa’s dress. He was in no hurry to take the stairs to the second level of the coolly furnished townhouse. He even halted halfway up the stairs to press her to the wall. There, his gorgeous face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Meanwhile, his fingers worked her into a frenzy once they’d slipped past the middle of her panties.
Clarissa could feel the sudden pressure of something climactic. Elias was equally affected and he forced himself to remove his fingers before she peaked.
There was no force in the way she bumped her fists against his shoulders to relay her agitation over the move. However, her senses were once again thrumming quite nicely when he applied a deep massage to her derriere. She cupped both hands around his strong jaw and lost herself in their kiss. In seconds, it seemed she was feeling the cradle of what felt wondrously like a bed.
She wouldn’t open her eyes, fearing that some aspect of her delight would end. Eli insinuated a hand between her shoulder blades and lifted her slightly to relieve her of the top of her dress. Clarissa bit down on her lip when her mouth was bereft of his.
She circled her hips when his mouth trailed every new patch of skin he uncovered during the removal of her dress. He waited until his nose was nestled between lace-covered breasts, and then added his tongue to the foreplay.
“Elias...” Her tone bordered on breathlessness. She could hardly speak, she was just that overwhelmed by his attention.
Elias had both hands beneath her back then. He unfastened the bra she wore in one fluid flick of his wrist. He caressed the soft heaving flesh protruding from the l
oosened cups, but had yet to fully remove the undergarment.
Instead, he tended her firming nipples through the flesh-toned lace. Weakly, Clarissa raked her fingers across the close-cut waves covering his head. Subtly, she pressed more of herself into his mouth.
The move galvanized Eli into action and he relieved her of what remained of the dress she wore. He moved on from there, getting rid of her bra, stockings and panties. He paused to survey her nude body, bracing himself against the insistent hum of his hormones which demanded to be sated.
He continued downward, spending some time nuzzling into her belly button and smirking when she wiggled in response to the tickle he planted there. He moved on then tracing the bare triangle of flesh above her sex.
Clarissa’s eyes flew open when she felt his mouth on her bare inner thighs.
“Eli—”
“Shh...”
She obeyed, her every nerve ending tuned to his mouth which journeyed closer to the dip of her inner thigh until he was a breath away from the heart of her. What little strength she carried in her hands dissolved when his nose stroked her satiny intimate petals. She jerked when the tip of his tongue replaced his nose. Elias’s hands firmed on her thighs and he took her in one swift powerful stroke of his tongue. Her hips lifted off the bed, but Eli was quick to settle her back down with a hand across her abdomen. Never once did he withdraw from the erotic kiss he plied her with.
Instead of rising from the bed, Clarissa rotated her hips slowly. The tension which stirred, only as a result of uncertainty for an act in which she had never indulged, gave way. Her muscles relaxed and her inner walls accommodated Eli’s tongue welcomingly.
Her reaction made him groan in response and he drove his tongue deeper. Clarissa’s hands rested above her head. All the while, she circled her hips and accepted all the pleasure his mouth gave. The thrusts and swirls of his tongue inside her were truly orgasm inducing. During the intense peaks of arousal, Clarissa prayed he wouldn’t stop as promise of climax loomed.
To ensure that he wouldn’t end his “task” too soon, she raked her hands through the silky strands of his hair and kept her hands planted there.
Provocative Territory Page 10
