Sweet Deception

by Angel Nicholas

Ally licked and kissed the spot she’d bitten. She kissed a line up his neck, along his jaw. At his mouth, she paused and pulled back to meet his glittering, unreadable gaze. Difficult man. If she didn’t love him, she’d have to club him over the head. She might anyway.

  She leaned forward and brushed her lips back and forth across his. His arms tightened. Firming her lips over his, she poured all of her heart into the kiss. He twitched inside her and lengthened.

  Instead of following up on that unspoken promise, he stepped back. The drag of him withdrawing from her sensitive flesh left her twitchy and flushed. He pulled up his pants, not bothering with the zipper or button before he leaned back and crossed his arms, staring at her.

  Naked as the day she was born, his hooded gaze made her feel far too vulnerable. She grabbed her shirt off the counter. Greg snatched it from her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Greg, I need to get dressed.”

  He tucked her blouse out of reach between his back and the wall. His feral smile slammed Ally’s defenses into place. “Not just yet. I like you this way. My cum seeping out of your sweet pussy; flushed and satisfied from a thorough fuck.”

  She flinched and bit her lip.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Don’t care for my terminology? Well, neither do I.” Leaning forward, his face an inch away from hers, he growled, “You deserve better than an easy fuck with some big-time player. Don’t do something you’ll regret just to get even with me.”

  So this had all been his way of showing her he didn’t appreciate her flirting with some guy? Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. Not here. Not in front of him.

  “Who said I intended to fuck him, Greg?”

  He scowled and some of the tightness in her chest eased. Ah, revenge. Good to the last drop.

  “I engage in a little harmless flirting and you barge in here to teach me a lesson with some lame bathroom sex? Well, fuck you, Marsing.”

  “You just did.”

  She slapped him. In the stark silence, Ally’s heart pounded in her throat and her palm tingled.

  Greg squeezed his eyes shut. “I deserved that. I’m being an asshole. I’m sorry, baby. Jealousy is eating me alive, and I’m not used to feeling emotional crap over a woman. I lost it. Fact is, you make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

  Ally crossed her arms and looked away. Tried to close her legs, but he moved between them.

  “Forgive me?” He nudged her entrance and she glanced down, jaw dropping in disbelief. Fully erect and veins bulging as if they hadn’t just had sex, he pushed inside her. Biting her lip to withhold a moan, she met his eyes.

  “Please?” Balls deep inside of her, Greg didn’t move, didn’t touch her anywhere else.

  She swallowed hard, upset swirling in her belly. His apology went a long way toward soothing the wounds his words created, but she hated how much he could hurt her. How vulnerable being in love with him left her. She could totally understand his difficulty in dealing with foreign emotions; she was right there with him.

  “Don’t do it again.” There was steel in her tone. She was no man’s doormat.

  “I won’t.” Greg withdrew to just the tip.

  “Watch, sweetheart.” His voice roughened and he grasped her thighs and spread them further apart. “Watch how good we are together.”

  If he thought they were so good together, why was he afraid of an actual relationship? He thrust and her thought process fractured. Slow and thorough, his hips pumped back and forth.

  Ally’s vision hazed and she fought to focus. Missing a single moment wasn’t an option. She’d never seen or experienced anything so erotic. So thick, he spread her lips apart as he pushed into her, reappearing slick with her arousal and his cum, combined with the drag and pull across her nerve endings until she tumbled over into an orgasm. The heat of his climax poured into her.

  “That’s what we’re like together,” he rasped into her hair.

  From somewhere, she summoned the energy to lift her head from his shoulder to whisper in his ear, “You remember too, Surfer Dude.”

  Greg stiffened but didn’t pull away until both their breathing returned to normal and her grip on him loosened. In silence, he helped her wriggle back into her clothes in the cramped quarters.

  The rest of the flight passed in tense awareness of the man to her right and obliviousness to the one on her left. The scent of their lovemaking clung to her nostrils. Everything he’d said swirled round and round her head until her temples throbbed. Ultimately, he hadn’t clarified anything between them, and there was no way she was having a deeply personal conversation on a crowded airplane.

  She gathered her things once the plane landed and joined the de-planing throng. The joy of her adventurous weekend had dissipated in the haze of uncertainty clouding their relationship.

  Walking through the airport, bittersweet longing tugged at her as couples and families greeted one another. Greg came alongside her, wove his fingers through hers and nudged her into a deserted lounge area. Her stomach clenched with anxiety.

  “So…” she laced her fingers behind her back and stared at his chin. “I’m a little confused about where we stand.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re the kind of woman a man comes home to every night, makes a family with…that’s not me.”

  Acid churned in her stomach. He was dumping her? After the way he’d driven every muscle in her body into plaintive lassitude? Either Greg had a real cruel streak or he was having trouble deciding what he wanted. Regardless, the constant push and pull was killing her.

  Ally lifted her chin and met his gaze. “You need to make up your mind. One minute you care about me and we have something special, the next you’re saying you have nothing to offer. Except sex.” Cynicism twisted her smile. “If you figure it out, let me know.”

  Dignity wrapped around her like a long winter coat, she turned and walked away. At the door, she paused, took a deep breath and looked back over her shoulder.

  Greg stood with his hands fisted and lips tight, color riding high in his cheeks. Maybe he did want her for more than sex, but she hadn’t come this far to shove herself down a man’s throat. Either he wanted her, all of her, or he didn’t.

  “Just don’t take too long,” she said. “I won’t wait around forever.”

  With a heavy heart, Ally walked away. In the parking lot, she stared at her little Prius. A boring car for a boring woman.

  A car lot drew her gaze on the way home. Why did she have to be boring? Maybe her image just needed a little…fluffing. And some high-dollar therapeutic shopping to ease what ailed her. Trading her Prius in a year before she paid off the loan wasn’t the wisest financial decision, but she pulled in anyway.

  She coasted to a stop beside a bright-red VW convertible. Entranced by the color, Ally climbed out and walked over to admire the interior and read the sticker. Black-leather interior, black-convertible top; very nice. Even the color’s name spoke to her. Salsa Red.

  Before she quite knew what had happened—possibly temporary insanity—she was wheeling away from the dealership in a shiny new VW Beetle convertible. Soft leather upholstery, a nice sound system and the scent of new car improved her mood considerably. No doubt a fleeting high brought on by the toxic new-car smell, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

  Smooth as silk, the little car accelerated up her drive and into the garage. She walked inside with a jaunty step and checked her answering machine. Joel, her real estate agent slash cousin, had left several irate messages. Excitement bubbled in her chest. Her town house already had a buyer. Wonderful. Now she just had to find a new place to live.

  “It’ll be fun.” She wheeled her suitcase into her bedroom.

  The stillness of the house grated on her nerves. Silence had never bothered her before. The tan walls irritated her. Unless it was the color of her skin after a relaxing weekend in Saint Lucia, her fixation with tan was definitely over.

  “Now that would be a
great get-away.”

  Great. Now I’m talking to myself. Throw in a cat—or ten, and I can be the neighborhood’s crazy lady. A thud from downstairs made her jump and she threw her purse on the bed. Who had burst in without invitation this time?

  “This is getting ridiculous.” Ally stomped down the stairs. “Do I have an OPEN sign on my front window or something?”

  She walked into the kitchen and her muttering came to an abrupt halt. Her heart, stomach and several other vital organs plummeted to her feet.

  “Hello, doll-face.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mother of God, this is not happening.

  Victor peeled himself off the wall and strolled toward her, smiling. The friendly expression was ill at ease on his face.

  Panic beat against Ally’s ribcage.

  He leaned against the island. “You look good, doll-face. I migh’ have to reconsider the rule about my girls wearing clothes.” His expression turned ugly. “But then, your de’ec’ive friend made sure I no longer have any girls, didn’ he?”

  She took a step back. Victor was under armed guard, on his way to forever-after in a jail cell. Greg had said so. Why was he standing in her kitchen? Oh, God, she couldn’t breathe.

  Fleeing front and center in her mind, Ally spun on her heel and smacked into something. Someone. Curly wrapped his beefy arms around her and squeezed her butt. If only looks could kill. He’d be howling on the floor, the sleaze.

  She smiled sweetly and stomped as hard as she could on his instep. He howled but didn’t let go. Instead, he spun her around to face Victor and held her arms in a bruising grip.

  “Now…” The telephone rang, cutting Victor off. He held up a hand. “Don’ move, doll-face.”

  Like she had a choice. Her answering machine clicked on.

  “Ally, we have a problem.” Greg’s voice filled the room. “Victor escaped during transport. I don’t know if he’ll try to find you, but don’t open the door for anyone except me. I’m on my way.”

  The machine clicked off and Victor grinned. “Hero to the rescue, huh? Tha’ makes this so much more fun.”

  Her belly tightened. He was way too calm and collected for her peace of mind.

  “Come on, boys.” Victor waved Curly and Moe, his favorite pet guard dogs, toward the door. “Let’s get ou’ of here. We don’t wan’ to make this too easy for Detective Marsing.”

  Curly twisted her arm high behind her back, lifting Ally up on her toes. She cried out in pain. His crotch pressed into her bottom. Ally’s stomach turned. Now she’d have to burn a brand-new pair of pants. Pants she really liked.

  Ticked off and grossed out by Curly’s onion-scented breath, she forced herself to think. Inspired by his heavy breathing, she brought her head forward and flung it back as hard as she could. She saw stars. Curly cursed and released her.

  Blood gushed all over the front of his pristine bowling shirt. Ally made a mad dash for the back door. Something hit her hard in the back and slammed her to the tile floor.

  She’d hoped Moe wouldn’t be so fast on his feet.

  Ally glared daggers at Moe pacing in front of her. Per Victor’s instructions, he’d tied her hands behind her and her legs to the oh-so-comfy metal chair she currently inhabited. The good thing about her position was no one would be taking off her clothes or molesting her. No matter how creative a guy got, sex just wasn’t possible with her tied to a chair like this.

  And if anybody stuck anything in her face, well, she was only too happy to bite his appendage off. She’d be doing mankind a favor. Or womankind, at least.

  “Are you going to pace all day?” she asked sweetly.

  “Shut up.”

  “Charming. You must be a real hit with the ladies.”

  Moe stirred up the dirt on the floor as he approached and she sneezed. This place hadn’t been occupied for a very long time—by any two-legged creatures, anyway. Dust and grime covered every surface.

  The filth didn’t seem to affect Moe, who didn’t stop until he was right in her face. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll shut you up.”

  “You should consider a tic-tac. I’d offer you one, but I’m a little tied up at the moment.” She smiled, biting back the rising bile of fear and nerves swirling inside her belly.

  Moe spun away with a grunt.

  She could have sworn his lips twitched, but it had to be a trick of the light. No way Big, Bad and Ugly had a sense of humor. Okay, he wasn’t ugly, but personality beat out looks every time.

  “So, where’s Curly?”

  “Who?”

  “The other guy.”

  “He’s icing his nose. I think you broke it.”

  “Gee, that’s too bad.”

  With an enigmatic shrug, Moe resumed pacing. Back and forth, back and forth in the small room until she wanted to scream. She tapped her toes on the floor and admired the charming Dust Bowl era décor instead.

  Not Victor’s old establishment, and he hadn’t had time to set up a new one. He’d only just escaped. Which dirty cop helped him out this time? Dirty cop. Good night. Like she was in some corny TV show. Cops Gone Bad or something equally stupid.

  “So…”

  Moe spun, tension in every line of his body. “Just shut the hell up! Please.”

  “Since you said please.” She muttered, dropping her gaze to her lap.

  “Oh, man. I am gonna freakin’ lose it.”

  Ally frowned. What kind of bad guy said freaking? Tension and frown lines marred his forehead. Like he was thinking hard, concentrating, plotting and planning. Wasn’t plotting Victor’s job? She hoped Moe didn’t hurt himself. Much.

  Muted voices and footsteps approached.

  Moe spun on her so fast, she flinched. “Look, I’m begging you. Keep your mouth shut and let me handle this if you want any chance of getting out of here alive.”

  Wow, that was the most words he’d ever strung together at a time. Remarkable. Then what he’d said penetrated. Ally’s eyes widened.

  Moe shot her a warning look.

  Victor strolled in, his heavy cologne filling the room and reminding her of the concrete chamber in his old basement. Her stomach twisted and panic tried to gain a toehold. She lifted her chin, praying it wasn’t trembling.

  “Hello, doll-face. Glad you’re awake. You’ve go’ a nasty bump on your forehead. Shame abou’ the cabine’ and all.”

  “Isn’t it, though.” Ally smiled tightly. “Shame about your lisp too.”

  Victor’s face darkened, but his slimy smile remained in place. Creepy. “I see you go’ your smar’ mouth back. We’ll have to take care of tha’.” He took a threatening step in her direction.

  “How’s Joe?” Moe asked.

  Victor paused and shot Ally a look. “His nose is broken. He go’ wha’ he deserved, letting a woman get the better of him. He’ll be in shortly.”

  “Oh, goodie,” she muttered.

  Moe’s exasperation became a tangible thing and she bit her lip. When had she become so mouthy? Probably all those years of repressing her feelings coming to bite her in the butt.

  A calmer Victor pushed past Moe. Hopefully, he was also less inclined to slap her around. She didn’t especially enjoy being slapped around.

  “I hear the rich SOB who ordered your hit go’ caught.” He chuckled. “Good thing I got paid firs’.”

  Ally bit her tongue hard.

  “Finally learning your place. Perfec’.”

  The door creaked open, admitting Curly. Gratification swelled. Both of his eyes were black and his nose had swollen to enormous proportions. His glare held a lot less power, thanks to the broken nose.

  Ally winked at him.

  He lunged. Moe snatched him back just in time. A rush of wind followed his fist past her face, missing her by a hair. She gulped.

  “If you can’ control yourself, you can leave.” Victor glared at Curly. “I don’ wan’ her messed up. No’ ye’ anyway.”

  Moe slammed Curly against the far wall, thick arm p
ressed against his windpipe, holding him in place. Impressive. Curly was a big guy.

  Curly made a strangled sound and Moe released him. Moe stepped back but kept an eye on him, a fact Ally appreciated. Curly was one loose bolt away from falling apart at the seams.

  Victor watched the two men, head cocked to the side.

  Striving for nonchalance, as much as a woman tied to a chair could achieve, she quirked her brow. “Where are we anyway?”

  “A little place I know from my younger days.” He turned back to her. “It’ll take a while for your detective to figure out where we’re hiding. Plenty of time for the boys to have a little fun.”

  The panic she’d been holding at bay sailed in and dropped anchor. Curly surged forward, but Victor narrowed his reptilian eyes and Curly subsided into sullen silence, lounging against the wall.

  “I believe he deserves the privilege.” Victor pointed at Moe, then turned his cold gaze on Curly. “You allowed a woman to ge’ the bes’ of you.”

  Relief surged, until Moe leered at her. Ally’s heart began to pound. Had she mistaken his intention to help her? He stalked forward and she shrank back in the chair. The hard metal back pressed into her skin.

  “Take her in the room next door,” Victor said. “You’ll have to untie her legs, but keep her hands tied.” He pressed a hand to his ribcage. Right where she’d stabbed him. Grim satisfaction filled her.

  Moe grunted in response and knelt to deal with the ropes. As soon as the rope fell, she tried to kick him and stand. He grabbed both her ankles and jerked hard. Ally toppled over his beefy shoulder as he rose, her face in his butt and her heart in her throat.

  Victor chuckled. “I see you two will ge’ along jus’ fine.”

  She spat at him. Hanging upside down didn’t make for good aim. She missed by a mile. Distaste crossed Victor’s face then he smiled. An icy shiver snaked along her spine.

  Moe opened the door, crossed a narrow hallway decorated in early roach mixed with rat infestation, opened another door and carried her across the threshold. Not a romantic, back from our honeymoon, threshold. Especially when he dropped her unceremoniously on a creaky old bed. A thick cloud of dust rose and Ally sneezed. One sneeze followed another, then another.