* * *
It was almost midnight when Jake got out of the shower. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out clean jeans and a T-shirt. His stomach growled and food sounded really good but so did sleep. There were a few good years left before he needed to worry seriously about all the crap he put into his system. Jake wasn't a fanatic when it came to watching his health. He didn't smoke, didn't drink all that often, and for a man under thirty he figured he had at least a few more years of eating when he wanted and keeping odd hours.
Jake grabbed his phone, punching in the numbers as he headed out of his hotel room. It might be late, but there were things to discuss and figure out. "No rest for the wicked," he said under his breath as Angela's phone rang in his ear. A lady who didn't have some sappy love song as her ringtone. That said something about her character right there.
"Where are you?" Angela sounded like she was whispering when she answered, her soft, raspy voice making him think he might have woken her.
Images of her lying naked under sheets with all that long, thick black hair tumbling over her bare shoulders as she rolled over on her pillow, her cheeks flushed, got him hard as hell by the time he reached the elevator.
"I'm going to be in your room in seconds."
"Like hell! It's too late." It sounded as if she tumbled out of bed.
Jake stifled a grin as he pushed the button to take him to the lobby. "Meet me at the bookstore. Opposite corner this time. Go to the second booth." He ended the call, not giving her time to refuse his location.
Regardless of what Angela might think, the bookstore was a perfect meeting place. Sometimes the seediest of locations were the safest. Especially when their perpetrator was a high-class criminal. Mario would turn green with envy if he were to learn Jake planned on spending time with Angela in a private booth in an adult bookstore watching porn. Hell, Jake couldn't wait. Maybe all the booty calls had grown old, but getting kinky with a hot lady during a peep show would never turn him off. Not as long as he could breathe.
"How do you keep your hours?" Jake grinned at the nighttime doorman, Albert.
Albert Rodney ran his vein-covered bony hands down the front of his black tuxedo jacket and nodded formally to Jake. Although Rodney had to be close to seventy, with greased-back silver hair that offered the impression the man hadn't found a hairstyle that suited him since the fifties, he was sharp and formidable. A good ally to have. Jake bet very little slipped past the old man who stood at the main entrance appearing unobtrusive.
"Where else would I be paid so well to do absolutely nothing and be able to flirt shamelessly with beautiful ladies?" Albert extended his hand, making a show of holding open the automatic door that wouldn't close even if Albert were to move his hand. "What I want to know is why one of them isn't on your arm, sir?"
"What did I tell you about that 'sir' crap?" Jake said, keeping his voice low. He hadn't narrowed down who was the night manager yet and didn't want to get Albert in trouble. Pulling a five out of his jeans pocket, Jake slipped it to the doorman. "And trust me, Albert. I plan on having a lady on my arm really soon."
"I have all the faith in the world, Jake," Albert said, lowering his voice toward the end of his sentence.
"Same here." Jake offered Albert his classic crooked smile, and the old man winked at him. "Tell me something."
"What's that, Jake?"
"You know who Angela is, don't you? A young lady about my age with long black hair?"
"How could anyone not notice such a beautiful creature?" Albert spoke in awe, his cool, serene tone educated, with just a clip of an eastern accent to it. "Miss Angela is a rare gem. If you don't mind me saying."
"I agree completely." Jake reached into his back pocket, grabbing the doorman's attention immediately. He kept his attention on Albert's face as he watched Jake's movements when he pulled out his wallet and removed one of his business cards. "This is just between you and me, okay?"
Albert lifted one of his bushy gray eyebrows after reading the card, then slipped it discreetly inside his coat pocket. "Always, Jake. I'm always discreet."
Jake believed him. "I want you to let me know if she leaves the hotel. Just call that number. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course. It might not be the moment she leaves, but I can use a phone when I go on break."
"How often do they give you a break around here?"
"The Drake takes very good care of me," Albert said proudly. "I sit and relax a bit every hour. They know I don't abuse the privilege and I know there isn't anywhere I would rather work. It's the best type of relationship to have. Too many don't realize if they take care of those around them, they will be taken care of as well."
"Words to live by," Jake mused.
"I can tell you that your lady left twice earlier this evening. She wasn't gone very long and has been in the hotel now for a couple hours."
"Do you know where she went?"
"It isn't my place to pry." Albert frowned at Jake as if the insinuation he would know what everyone did who stayed at the hotel insulted him. "I do believe both times she went out for coffee. The second time she returned was less than an hour ago and she carried two large cups from Starbucks."
Jake immediately wanted to know why Angela had bought two cups of coffee. "And that was less than an hour ago?"
"Yes." Albert answered with enough conviction it wouldn't be surprising if the man marked some people's arrivals and departures by the clock.
"She'll be coming downstairs here in a few minutes."
"It will be a pleasure seeing her."
"Yes, it will." Jake grinned at Albert and swore the old man winked at him. "I'll find out if she has anything to say to you when I return."
"Very good, Jake." Albert nodded and continued holding the automatic door as Jake headed out into the night.
It only took a couple minutes to walk around the corner to the bookstore. The establishment was open twenty-four hours a day, and the clerk behind the counter sat perched on a stool, his nose stuck in a worn-out-looking paperback. The rent for this place, in this part of town, couldn't be cheap. Jake was curious how the store kept their doors open. This was his second time here, and both times the shop had been practically void of customers.
The clerk didn't look up when Jake moved between the aisles and headed toward the rear of the store. When he reached the unmarked brown doors along the back wall, Jake turned, glancing over his shoulder. Neon lights blinked in the store window, illuminating the words "Vanity Bookstore." He no longer saw the clerk perched on his stool, and there didn't appear to be anyone else in the store.
Jake looked around the store, easily seeing over the many aisles of paperbacks, DVDs, and videotapes. Satisfied the store was empty, he turned his attention to the three doors in front of him, each one opening into a private booth where a porn movie could be watched privately. Above each door was a lightbulb, and the sign on the wall explained the light's being on meant the booth was occupied. None of the lights were on.
Jake opened the middle door and stepped inside. He stood in a six-by-six-foot space, around the size of a large closet, complete with a fake roof to offer some semblance of being soundproof. To his right was a wooden bench, built into the wall. In front of him was a TV screen, also in the wall. A coin box was next to it with a knob that offered several selections to watch.
Jake dug into his pocket, pulled out several one-dollar bills, and fed them into the box alongside the TV. He let the movie that whoever had been in here last start playing. It was on to create noise and make it harder for anyone outside to hear him and Angela talking. Jake stared at the small screen and watched an incredibly skinny blonde with very large breasts start giving a man a blow job. The screen could be bigger and cleaner, but Jake got the gist of what was going on.
His dick got hard as he imagined Angela on her knees in front of him with her moist, hot mouth wrapped around him. He jumped at the sound of the doorknob turning behind him.
Jake leapt to th
e side, watching the door open slowly. When Angela hesitated, not stepping inside, he stepped around the door, placing his hand over hers on the doorknob.
"Come in," he said in a husky, low voice, taking Angela's hand and wrapping his fingers around hers.
Angela's hand was cool, her fingers slender and long. She ducked backward and tried pulling her hand free. "What?" she began.
"Angela," he whispered, keeping her hand in his and dragging her into his arms.
When she was against him, Jake closed the door and clicked the lock on the door handle into place.
"You wanted me to meet you in a peep show room?" she demanded, sounding indignant.
"You agreed to meet me here." If he continued holding her in his arms while she twisting against him, they'd get very little discussed. Although as he moved his hand over her back and all of that long, thick black hair tumbled over his arm images of it flowing over her naked body while she rode him made it damn hard to think about anything else. "Sit," he told her, releasing her but taking her arms and guiding her forward.
Angela freed herself, but there wasn't anywhere to go in the small room to allow her space. "You want me to sit there?" she asked, glaring at the bench built into the wall and running the length of the wall. "Do you know what people do there?"
He assumed the question was rhetorical. "I have a vague idea," he said dryly.
Angela rolled her eyes, the glow from the TV casting shadows over her face. "This is one hell of a place to meet," she grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring at the small TV screen.
Jake noticed her features soften immediately. She was drawn into the porn. Maybe Angela wanted Jake to believe she was all business, but there was kink in her, too. He saw it as her features relaxed and her eyes glowed as she stared at the set. Angela was a complex woman. Jake was going to enjoy learning the different angles to this sultry investigator. One side of her became very apparent as her cheeks flushed and she continued staring at the small TV. Angela didn't want him to know her level of perversion. Possibly she wasn't aware of how obvious it was. Her cheeks remained flushed and her breath slowed as she inhaled deeper, trying to hold on to her control. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait until he shattered that control.
Since she seemed intent on standing, Jake sat on the bench. When he stretched his legs out, Angela was forced to move closer to the set or he'd have his legs on either side of her. She turned her back on the TV and pursed her lips, studying Jake's face. Her nipples were hard, which made for one hell of a mouthwatering view.
"Where were you this evening?"
Jake took his time raising his attention to her face. "Exploring Mario's property."
Her eyes grew wide. "You were at his house? When?"
"After you left in your cab, I waited for Mario to return and head inside, then decided to learn the layout of the land. I need to know the best ways in and out of his property."
She nodded once.
"There's an outbuilding," Jake continued.
"I've seen it."
"Have you been inside?"
She shook her head. "No. I saw it from the patio earlier tonight."
"Could you give me a layout of the inside of his home?"
She looked like she'd blow Jake a kiss as her gaze dropped. She was either giving his question some thought or taking in his body. Maybe she was doing both. Long strands of hair slid forward over her shoulder and parted around her round breasts. Her nipples were still hard and poked against her tank top. There wasn't much room in the small booth. But there was enough to fuck her until she couldn't take any more.
"I think so," she answered slowly. "It's a big house, but he gave me a tour."
Jake gave himself a mental shake, glancing past her at the TV he could only partially see with Angela standing in front of him. "I'm sure he did," Jake muttered, willing himself to focus on Mario's house, on where his army was, and making sure Angela didn't put herself in a position he couldn't get her out of. "Do you know how many people are working for him?" he asked, knowing of three so far.
"The tour ended in his bedroom," she added, her expression not changing although it sure looked as if there was a challenge in her eyes. "And I'm not sure. I saw three, but one was killed while I was there."
"I want to create a blueprint of the inside and outside of his place."
"We can do that," she answered, looking away from Jake for the first time.
"Now tell me about this murder you witnessed." That grabbed her attention. "Don't leave out any details."
"Okay," she said slowly, turning as if she might pace but realizing taking a step in any direction would be futile. There simply wasn't enough room to do anything other than watch porn, masturbate, or get laid if someone was lucky enough to have a willing partner in there with them.
Angela let out a slow breath and again searched the walls around her. Jake wondered for a moment if she might be claustrophobic. She didn't look comfortable and possibly her hard nipples distracting him made him overlook the obvious, which was that she didn't seem to like being in here with him at all.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, keeping his tone calm, speaking quietly and nonconfrontationally.
"Actually, yes, there is." Her tormented expression disappeared and she suddenly looked pissed. "I don't have a problem going over this case with you," she began, and held her palm up, blocking his view of her breasts. "But there isn't any space in here. If it's your intention to have us in here so I couldn't think straight with your body sprawled everywhere so I can't even move without running into you, I don't think it's fair play."
"I asked you to meet me here because it's quite possibly the safest place for us to talk and still be close to the Drake." It never crossed his mind that Angela was equally tormented by his body as he was by hers. "You witnessed a murder tonight. Do you honestly think Mandela is going to stay home and sleep soundly without knowing beyond any doubt you haven't become a liability?"
"Point taken." She straightened, hugging herself, and stared at Jake. Her gaze was flat, though. She was definitely shoving every emotion and reaction to what he just said to her under a thick carpet.
He didn't have a problem giving her the time she apparently needed to relax. He was all she had right now. That meant trusting him implicitly. Jake couldn't think of a better place than this small closet-type booth where no one would seek them out or bother them. As long as he continued pumping dollar bills into the box next to the TV, they could stay in here all night and not be bothered.
Jake straightened, pulling his legs in so she didn't have to step over them, and patted the bench next to him. "Sit," he instructed. "Tell me about the murder you witnessed."
"If there were regular lighting in here I bet you'd be able to see all the stains in that wooden bench from..." She let her sentence break off, not finishing it, but giving him a quirky smile as if trying to make light of the fact that many men probably sat and masturbated here.
Jake pulled off his shirt. "Allow me to be a gentleman." He shook his shirt out and placed it on the bench next to him, making a show of ironing it smooth with his hand.
"Jake!" Angela hissed, her hand going to her mouth. Then she coughed and accepted his offer as she planted her cute butt on his shirt. Her legs were pressed tightly together, and her hands were clasped at her knees. "That wasn't necessary," she mumbled.
"Just trying to make you comfortable."
"You took your shirt off," she spit out.
"That makes you uncomfortable?"
"How would you like it if I took my shirt off?"
His grin must have answered her question.
She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Exactly. I doubt you'd care much about hearing about a murder if I didn't have a shirt on."
"I'm willing to test that theory."
Angela rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't care if you lost."
"I don't see how I can lose on that one."
The apprehension on her face disappeared as she s
tared at him. Jake saw the smile in her eyes before it played at her lips. "You're impossible," she muttered. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a lost cause?" She shook her head, her green eyes glowing with amusement. "If there was a Playboy Anonymous I would strongly recommend you work the steps."
Angela had already informed him that his reputation didn't impress her. He doubted it would impress her if he told her it had been almost three days since he'd talked to another woman. And he'd scare the crap out of her if he mentioned she was the reason why.
"Tell me about the murder," he grumbled, leaning his bare back against the scratchy wooden wall behind him.
"It actually started in Mario's bedroom." She slapped her palms against her bare legs and relaxed, matching Jake's position and facing him. "He'd just finished giving me a tour of his home. It didn't surprise me we ended up in his room and believe me..." Angela stressed, but hesitated for a moment, hooding her gaze as she stared at her fingers. She didn't look up when she continued. "I admit being preoccupied for a minute on what to say, or do, to get us the hell out of there. However, when one of his goons in a suit came to the door and the two of them spoke for a few minutes, I was able to leave a bug at his computer."
"What started in Mario's bedroom?" Jake really didn't want to hear about her being in Mario's bedroom, even though she made a point of telling him she didn't like being in there. Forcing his emotions to the far back of his head, he focused on what she said. "And what kind of bugs are you using?"
"An argument of sorts. I could tell Mario didn't like what Marco, his manservant, said to him. And they're the brand my father has always used. They record what's being said, so I'm not missing out on anything by being here with you."
"Good. And how did you know it was an argument?"
"'Argument' is probably a strong word." She nibbled her lower lip, watching his face. When her gaze dropped to his chest, her cheeks flushed. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out just as loudly. "Marco wanted Mario to come with him and Mario continued telling him it was a bad time."
"I'm sure."
Bounty Hunters: 03 Stay Hungry Page 16
