Clarissa finished setting the condom in place, and then she settled herself in one fluid move. Eli thrust upward the moment she was fully enveloping his sex in hers. One hand held on to her hip while the other pressed against her belly.
Elias worked his thumb into her navel to feel the alluring stabs of arrogance mixed with possession as he studied the changes in her expression. He could tell that she was completely overcome by the things he did to her.
Clarissa had no intention of being the only one overcome by desire. She switched the direction of her hips over him. Suddenly weakened, Eli’s hands drifted from her body to rest upon the rumpled covers. All energy flowed to his hips then and together the lovers merged into a heated, energetic rhythm. The sounds of their moans were evoked by their compatibility and the love that fueled it.
* * *
Later, Clarissa and Eli lounged in bed. The room was lit only by a thin beam of moonlight.
“I was about fifteen or so when I realized how much my virginity meant to my aunt.” She smiled and bumped her chin on the hand resting on Eli’s abdomen. “At first I didn’t get what the big deal was and then my dad sent me to stay with her that summer.”
Eli rested with one arm across his eyes, his free hand played in the tousle of Clarissa’s hair. He massaged her neck a bit more intently when she grew quiet. He knew that memories of her aunt had to still feel quite raw in the wake of the woman’s death.
“I got the full education on exactly what she did for a living,” Clarissa was saying. “I understood what kind of woman people saw her as...knew her to be.” She laid her cheek flat on his abs then.
“But she was a woman who truly had a golden heart. The way she cared for those girls...and they really needed someone to care.” She smirked and thought over her words. “The way some of them lived, the horrors they’d been through. I guess I got caught up in what drove my aunt.”
“And you wanted to save them, too,” Eli guessed, caressing the shell of her ear and a curl that clung to it.
“Not if you mean by getting them out of dancing.” She shook her head awkwardly against him. “I just wanted to be sure they knew there were more opportunities available to them and ways that didn’t involve men taking pleasure for money of all things.”
“So you made that your own mission and forgot to live.”
“I’ve lived.” She raised her head and shrugged. “But I admit I may have been influenced by the problems those girls had. Guess I was determined not to let myself be put in heartbreaking positions because of men.”
Eli whistled. “You know I’ve heard that can be an unfortunate side effect of love.”
Clarissa smiled and snuggled in next to him. “I realized that—eventually. At first keeping my virginity was about my aunt’s expectations and then it was about not wanting to be like the girls and then...” She let the word evaporate into a sigh. “Then I realized all that was a crock. All of it came down to me—just me lying to myself. I was just too...nervous to...I don’t know, to take a chance. I was too afraid of that possible heartbreak.”
Elias gathered her close. “Does it help to know that I’m nervous and afraid, too?”
Clarissa looked up but could see nothing—not even the ethereal blue of his eyes. She didn’t need that consolation. His voice was assurance enough. She inched up to find his mouth.
“It helps,” she spoke against his lips. “It helps more than you know.”
* * *
Clarissa could have had her pick of escorts that day, all of them courtesy of Philadelphia’s finest. Male detectives working the desk when she appeared were all too happy to volunteer to show their lovely visitor into Sophie Hail’s office.
“Thanks, guys.” Sophie greeted her coworkers with a double wave and smile in response to their unnecessary and clearly self-serving gesture. She waited until they took their leave before turning to her visitor.
“Hey, Clarissa. Sorry about that.” She waved to a chair before her desk.
“They’re sweet,” Clarissa excused.
“Guess so.” Sophie scrunched her nose in reply. “Long as a woman knows and stays in her place.”
“Which is off the force.” Clarissa settled into a worn leather chair. “I suppose a woman has to be dedicated to do a job like this—it takes its toll.”
“Yeah...” Sophie’s expression turned thoughtful. “It takes a toll on a lot of things.” She then tapped her nails to the desk and offered up a resolute smile. “I guess you’re here to discuss what I found in Jazmina’s notebook?”
“I can guess well enough.” Clarissa recrossed her jean-clad legs. “Rayelle and me...we knew it was probably a long shot that you’d find anything.” She braced her elbows on the thin metal arms of the chair. “These notes were just so weird—cryptic—and then after I talked to you...” She threw her head back and grinned.
“They were dress sizes for the girl’s costumes, right?” Clarissa offered.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that.” Sophie twirled a curl of hair around her index finger and reclined in her seat. “One could take this easily for a ledger.”
“A ledger?” Clarissa scooted up in her seat. “For what?”
“Well, that’s the question.” Sophie massaged her eyes. “If only I had had the chance to talk with your aunt one last time. I may’ve at least gotten a name.” She looked down at the supposed “ledger” lying flat open on the desk.
“All these strange numbers...one column in particular—strange in a way I can’t put a finger on,” she said even while running a finger down the page.
“Did my aunt ever give you a hint about anybody?”
Sophie only shook her head.
Clarissa licked her lips and leaned forward. “Not even Waymon Cole?”
Sophie shook her head but included a frown that time. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
“He’s one of my aunt’s oldest friends and her business manager, as well.”
“Aah...” Sophie’s frown was replaced by curiosity. She swiveled her chair to and fro tugging at the cuff of her olive-green blouse. “You think this Mr. Cole could have something to do with what’s in this book?”
“I never would have thought that before a very strange conversation I had with the man.” Clarissa spent the next twelve minutes discussing Waymon’s adversity to the changes she was proposing for the club.
“You know that could be nothing more than the man showing concern over his friend’s business.”
Clarissa propped her fist to her chin. “I hope that’s all it is.”
* * *
“Boys!” Cleveland Echols greeted Elias and Barker with hugs and handshakes when he found them in his office that afternoon. Echols was a rotund man of average height whose gregarious nature was rivaled only by his generous heart.
“What are you drinking?” Cleveland Echols asked once the younger men had assured him that their mothers were doing just fine.
“Got a fine new Scotch over here,” Cleve announced.
Elias and Barker exchanged looks while the man worked at the bar.
“You’re a hard man to get in touch with Mr. Cleve,” Eli said. “I haven’t been able to reach you since we talked about our now nonexistent project.”
“Yes...” Cleve passed drinks to the men. “And I am sorry that we had to cancel out on that.”
Barker jumped on the opening. “Eli said the cancellation had to do with a loss of your investors to Waymon Cole.”
Cleve provided a stiff nod and sipped on his drink.
“Did they have problems being tied to a man whose customers include suspected drug dealers?”
“There are all kinds of criminals in the world, Barker,” Cleve snapped and went to sit behind his desk. “The worst are the ones who come dressed in the most legitimat
e apparel.”
“Sir, we know the investors are cops’ wives.” Eli saw the change in Cleveland’s expression. “We know they live all over the country.”
Cleve leaned forward to set his glass to the desk and almost missed the edge. “How do you...know that?”
“Sir, we really don’t know a thing—especially why these people dropped out of the bank project or why they set out to ruin your business and your other projects.” Eli dipped his head a fraction. “Unless you’re about to tell us that they hadn’t done that.”
Cleveland finished his drink. “You guys don’t want to know this.”
“I’m sure we do, sir,” Barker confirmed.
Cleve laughed. “You think you’ll get a story out of it, boy? Broadcast a big report? They’d never allow it.”
“Because cops are involved,” Eli guessed.
Cleveland shook his head. “These aren’t just a group of corrupt uniforms walkin’ a beat. These are seasoned public servants with rank and pull—they’ve got the ability to make the lives of their enemies a living hell.”
Eli leaned back in his chair, looking as if he’d found an answer to at least one of his questions. “So it is the cops and not their wives.”
Cleve went back to the bar for another drink. “The wives were a front, I’m not even sure half of ’em know their husbands had used their names.”
“What’s goin’ on, Mr. Cleve?” Barker leaned forward in his chair.
Cleve threw back the second drink with barely a wince. “It’s about money, what else?” He bowed his head for a lengthy moment and then faced Elias and Barker.
“I don’t know who had the genius idea to put this all in motion, but this is about money. Drug money—a lot of it. It’s about finding a way to secure it.”
“Money laundering,” Elias noted.
Cleve studied the glass emptied of liquor and smirked. “A few cops out West had funneled money through a club, used the girls, tipped big, booked private parties, weekend performances...” He set the glass to the bar with unnecessary force.
“It went great ’til the club owner got greedy and demanded a bigger cut. The guys who came up with what we’ve got going here still thought the idea was sound. They figured they just needed to tweak the implementation to make it work better.”
Cleveland fixed a wan smile to his thick lips. “Some of my alleged drug dealing customers already had accounts here as did a few of Philly’s finest. It was a nice marriage.” He shrugged. “But then the money kept growing and transporting it became an issue.”
Eli grinned ill-humoredly. “I guess that cops coming into the bank with bags of money could raise suspicions.”
“So they brought Waymon Cole in on the deal. Jazzy B’s was perfect for what they had in mind.” Cleveland folded his arms over the front of his suit coat. “High-end strippers and there were some who didn’t mind crossing the lines. The money tumbled in like a wave and it wasn’t long before these newly wealthy cops figured they should have their own bank hence the project with Joss Construction. It could have been the perfect set-up.”
“Only?” Eli asked.
“Only the owner got suspicious.”
“Jaz Beaumont.”
Cleve nodded toward Barker. “Somehow she found out that the bank had two accounts for the club. Cole wasn’t expecting that. Jaz had never cared about the money—she always left that part to him.”
Cleve walked back to his desk. “I talked to her myself—told her that I was sure it was a clerical error and that I’d check it out, but I knew that wouldn’t pacify her for long. I got scared.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth.
“The girl who was the courier for the club, she... We were... Cole knew about her—said they’d tell my wife if I breathed a word. But they set out to ruin my business anyway—shaking down my clients, ruining their business whether they were legitimate or not.”
“Mr. Cleve—”
“Save it, Eli.” Cleve threw up a hand.
“Sir, you could ruin ’em,” Elias argued. “Throw ’em to the wolves—testify.”
“At what price?” Cleve’s warm gaze was suddenly full of venom. “I was fool enough to get caught up in this mess. I can’t be responsible for having that girl’s blood spilled. Jaz was good enough to hide her when she went to her complaining about some obsessive fan. I can’t risk them finding her and doing her harm.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way, sir.”
Cleve laughed over Eli’s certainty. “And pray tell, son, why—after all that’s happened—should it turn out any better?”
Chapter 16
That night Clarissa was on call for Jazzy B’s. She had avoided the place—the floor and the customers, especially since Jazmina’s death. Memories of happier times there were still too prevalent for her to feel completely at ease inside the establishment where she had cut her teeth en route to being a businesswoman.
Even so, she made her way through the club that night looking radiant and feeling rather jubilant. Their visit to Philly had carried her along the full spectrum of emotions, she believed. She had wallowed on the lowest levels of despair yet managed to taste the sweetness of a love that she had never expected.
Clarissa shook hands with a number of people—men and women alike. Jazzy B’s Gentlemen’s Club hadn’t been exclusively for gentlemen in a long time. Women took in the shows as avidly as their male counterparts—sometimes even more so. That night, the club’s patrons held something else in common—mourning the loss of Jazmina Beaumont.
Clarissa received streams of condolences on her aunt’s passing. It took close to an hour to cross from one side of the lower level to the other; there were just that many people. She had almost cleared the room, when a pair of arms encircled her waist and hands nudged the silver chain belt around the black split skirt that barely reached her midthigh.
“What are my chances on grabbing a private dance?” The man’s voice was low against Clarissa’s ear.
Her elbow was poised for the man’s midsection but Clarissa hesitated. “A private dance...it’ll cost you and I am seeing someone who might frown on that. Oh, what the hell? Meet me in the manager’s office and we’ll discuss it.”
The man’s arm went limp around Clarissa’s waist, but he quickly recovered. Taking her by the elbow, he turned her to face him.
She dissolved into peals of laughter over the half-stunned, half-amused expression on his face.
Eli began to nod as if to concede that he had been thoroughly punked. With a resigned look softening his very seductive features, he sighed softly and then bent to tug her across his shoulder.
“That’ll cost you,” he grumbled. “Where’s this office of yours?”
* * *
“I think you’ve got this backward, sugar. You’re the one who’s supposed to come out of pocket,” Clarissa teased once they were locked inside the office.
“You’re the only one coming out of anything.” Eli’s persuasive voice was a growl. He kept her against the door and attempted to kiss her out of the slinky, lacy, capped-sleeved blouse she wore.
“Not here, Eli,” Clarissa sang.
“Oh—sorry. How about here?” Eli moved his hand up from her hip to cup a breast and squeeze.
“Someone might—” she shivered when he thumb started grazing the nipple that protruded against the sheer black fabric of her shirt “—someone might need me.” She made a serious effort to resist him, though her defenses were surely weakening.
“Damn right someone might need you,” he murmured. His mouth followed the path of his hand. His nose charted a trail between the fragrant valley of her bosom.
“Eli, please.” She eventually pushed more strength into her voice. “Ray’s off tonight and I need to be available.” She started to tug the open collar of his gra
y shirt with increased persistence.
“It’s gonna be pretty crazy here until all our new protocols are put in place.”
Clearly reluctant to let her go, Elias pulled his face free of the perfumed cleavage but refused to release her from the trap between the door and his body.
“New protocols?” he queried, curiosity working its way into the vivid bluish-green of his stare. “What’s Waymon Cole got to say about that?”
“Waymon?” Clarissa crossed her arms over her chest as almost laughed the man’s name.
Eli shrugged, resting his shoulder against the door. “Everyone knows he was your aunt’s right hand around this place. I know he was very good at his job—still is.”
“And how do you know that?” Clarissa followed suit and rested her shoulder on the door, as well.
“Man’s gotta be pretty damn good at his job to be responsible for one of my deals falling through.”
“Waymon.” Clarissa spoke the name with a dash more reverence that time.
“A business deal with a man named Cleveland Echols.” Eli focused on straightening the scalloped collar of Clarissa’s blouse. “Cole got all his investors to walk out on his project—our project. Guess cops’ wives are suckers for smooth talkers.”
Clarissa gave a jerky shake of her head. “Cops’ wives?” Clarissa moved from the door, considering the information as she walked the room’s perimeter.
“Looks like your Mr. Cole is going into the bank-building business.”
“Banks.”
Eli grinned and settled back fully against the door. He pushed both hands into trouser pockets hidden by the hem of his shirt. “Why do I feel like I just gave you a piece to a puzzle?”
Clarissa eventually tuned in to the question. She blinked at Eli, dumbfounded at first and then with more awareness before she shook her head.
Eli pulled her close again, peering down into the dusky brown pools of her eyes with a look that was chilly in its intensity.
“Are you looking into suspicions about your aunt’s clubs?”
“What?” She blinked more rapidly now. “Where’d you get that?”
Provocative Territory Page 16
