Stepping forward, he grasped her wrist and tugged her closer to him. “That was quite a performance you put on this morning…It makes me wonder if maybe you were pretending when you were with me.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The smart ass remark was accompanied by a slight tilting of her lips.
He moved closer, pressing her back against the wall. They were hip to hip and chest to chest. There was no hiding how he was responding to her nearness, and from the way her eyes widened and her lips parted, he knew she was just as turned on. But he had to know the truth. “Don’t be a smartass. Tell me, honestly, were you faking it with me?”
She didn’t answer, just stared up at him wordlessly, challengingly.
Taking the bait, he kissed her, pressing his mouth to hers and devouring the plump curves of her lips. Sliding his hands into her hair, the dark strands tangled around his fingers as he tugged her head back, deepening the kiss.
Dixie didn’t resist, but slid her hands over around his waist, tugging him even closer.
The heat exploded between them. Clothes were ripped, tossed aside carelessly, in a desperate attempt to achieve skin on skin contact. With her shirt hanging open, he tugged the cups of her bra down, revealing the dusky pink tips. Tracing his fingertips over her skin, he circled the tender flesh of her pert nipples, teasing, taunting.
Breaking the kiss on a gasp, she demanded, “For the love of God! Nick, just touch me!”
Closing his fingertips lightly on her nipple, he applied the barest hint of pressure. “Like this?”
“No dammit! Touch me the way you did before—like you can’t get enough of me,” she said breathlessly.
“I can’t,” he admitted. Even as he spoke, he gripped her flesh more firmly, teasing the small bud to a taut peak, before dipping his head and closing his lips over it. Laving her nipple with his tongue, sucking it deeply into his mouth, he was rewarded with a guttural moan from Dixie. Scraping his teeth lightly over the furled flesh, she screamed his name, her hands grasping his hair as her hips rocks against him.
Nick felt like he was burning from the inside out. Being hot for Dixie was the norm for him, but after two weeks of not seeing her, of wondering if he’d ever see her again, having her nearly naked and moaning in his arms was too much. Tugging the zipper of her jeans down, he managed to part the denim just enough to slip one hand inside. She was wet and eager.
Then her hands were on him, tugging at his zipper, coasting over his raging hard on in a way that made his eyes cross, as he hissed out a breath. Stepping back from her, because if she touched him one more time, it would all be over anyway, he took a deep steadying breath. “Strip. Get those damn clothes off now.”
Watching her shimmy out of her jeans was an exercise in torture but it took more strength than he possessed to look away. Once she was naked, he followed suit and then pulled her into the small shower enclosure. The warm water sluiced over them as he turned her around, pressing her against the tile wall. She required no instruction from him, parting her legs for him. With one hand resting on the curve of her hip, he used his other hand to guide his cock to her entrance. Nudging inside her, feeling the hot clutch of her body as she took him inside her.
Her hands pressed against the tiles, her body pushed back against him. Flexing his hips, he drove deeper, pumping into her with slow rhythmic strokes. Every sound she made, every shudder and tremble of her body, spurred him on. Sliding his hands over her wet skin, he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples, tugging at them. Her head came back to rest against his shoulder, her neck arching in invitation. Dipping his head, he kissed the sensitive skin there where her neck and shoulder met, biting gently in the way that always made her wild.
Any thoughts he had simply fled. It’d begun because he needed to prove to both of them that the passion they’d shared was real. Now, any thoughts of proving a point were long gone and he became lost in the sensations of wet flesh gliding against his, of the heat of her body clenching around him, the tension building inside them both. Soft cries and harsh breathing filled the small shower enclosure.
Her hands covered his as he continued to tease her breasts. Then she tensed against him, her whole body going taut. Her lips parted on a soundless cry and soft tremors began to wrack her body. Her inner muscles fluttered around his cock, settling into a rhythmic clench and release as she sagged against him. There was nothing left but the sweet rush of release. Driving into her one last time, he let go, let the passion take him. Pressing her tightly against the wall, he held them both there as he poured himself into her.
In the aftermath, they were both winded, both silent. Speaking would break the spell, and they’d said everything they needed to with their bodies. So, he just held onto her until the water began to run cold.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dixie was still reeling from their encounter in the shower as she adjusted the straps of her bathing suit in front of the mirror. Her knees were still trembling and if she’d thought there was a hope in hell of getting him out of her system, she knew she’d been wrong.
Nick wasn’t just in her head. He was running through her veins and burrowing his way into the deepest parts of her. If he was telling the truth about why he’d left, and the longer they went along, the more she recognized that he probably was, then it would be fine, assuming they lived through it. If not, if this was all just some kind of game he was playing with her, then she was well and truly fucked.
Nick emerged from the bathroom, where he’d retreated with his cell phone earlier. He returned the small burner phone to it’s hiding place, attaching it to the back of the television with foam tape. “What are you going to do for the rest of the day?” she asked him.
“I’ve got a show at two,” he said. “Then I have a break from four to seven. Another show starts at nine, runs until ten thirty and then I’m done. What about you?”
“I thought I’d spend some time by the pool, work on my tan.”
He smiled. “If you need help applying sun screen, I’d be happy to offer my services.”
“I might take you up on that,” Dixie quipped as she scribbled a note on hotel stationary. Passing off the piece of paper to him, she waited for him to read it.
Are you sure there is just audio surveillance?
He nodded. “I checked out the pool myself the other day. It’s a nice spot. Secluded. No prying eyes.”
“Maybe you can join me?”
“I’ll change and meet you there,” he said.
That was perfect. It gave her a chance to knock on a few doors and maybe find Irma and Frankie. She’d already written out a note to them, advising Frankie to be careful of Mahoney. Donning her swimsuit cover up, she exited the room. Walking down the hallway, she stayed close to the wall. The third room down was the jackpot, she felt sure. Wheel of Fortune was playing loudly from inside. Making a big production of bending over, just in case anyone was watching, she produced the note from between her fingers as if she’d picked it up from the floor.
Knocking on the door, she felt instant relief when Frankie answered. “Ma’am, I think you must have dropped this. It was on the floor outside your door.”
Frankie’s suspicious nature and conspiracy theories served her well in that moment, because Frankie played along without hesitation. “Why thank you dear! It’s so hard to find honest people in the world! Bless you, child!”
“You’re very welcome. Have a nice day now!” Strolling away, patting herself on the back for some damn fine acting skills, she blanched when the elevator doors opened and the two goons from the first night appeared. Mahoney was right behind them.
Goon One smiled at her. “We’re not here for you, ‘Cilla. Just don’t get in any trouble, alright?”
Playing it cool, she tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “What trouble could I get into?”
Mahoney stepped forward then, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her wish she was wearing three layers of sweat pants and a parka just to shield herself
from his view. “Oh, darlin’, a woman like you can always find trouble…I’ve always admired a woman with curves. Not as much as I admire a woman with money, but there’s no law that says I can’t have both, now is there?”
“Only Murphy’s Law. Women tend to frown on that and they always find out,” she replied sharply.
Mahoney chuckled and as he walked past her, he swatted her on the butt.
Letting out a choked squeal, Dixie all but dove into the elevator, nearly knocking over an elderly woman who had the most disapproving stare she’d ever been subjected to. Forcing a polite smile, Dixie righted herself and ignored the waves of judgment coming her way.
Equal parts repulsed, insulted and infuriated, she just wanted to get to the pool where she and Nick could have a conversation that wasn’t being recorded. Hoping that whatever Mahoney was doing there had nothing to do with Nick or Frankie, Dixie pressed the button for the ground floor.
Or Frankie. The note—What if he’s there to see Frankie and sees the note? “Shit.”
The elderly woman harrumphed loudly.
Dixie offered her another apologetic look as she pressed the button for the next floor. “I forgot my sunscreen,” she explained.
“I hope you didn’t forget other protective items when you got that hickey on your neck,” the elderly woman scolded.
Dixie had no response, which was just as well as the elevator doors closed while she was still gaping at her. Pulling herself together, she said aloud, “At least someone wants to bite my neck.”
Turning around, she met the curious stare of one of the housekeepers. “Loco,” the lady muttered and went back to her dusting.
“Everyone in this damn hotel thinks I’m a nutball or a slut,” she muttered as she entered the stairwell. Climbing the three flights back up to her their floor, she opened the door quietly and peered down the hall. The goons were stationed outside Frankie and Irma’s room. “Dammit!”
There was nothing for it but to go to their room and see what the hell was going on.
~*~*~
Frankie patted her dyed red hair and offered a flirtatious smile to Marcus Mahoney. He was a shark, from his too tight skin and impressive choppers to his cold, dead eyes. She’d seen his kind before and she knew exactly how to handle him.
“Marcus, honey, I’d love to get into that high roller game I heard you talking about.”
He shrugged. “It’s a fifty-thousand buy in.”
Which was more money than she and Irma had together even if they sold their houses. But he didn’t need to know that. “I thought you said they were high rollers?”
He chuckled. “High rollers for the Viva isn’t quite as impressive as those in Vegas or even Biloxi. We’re a small casino, Frances.”
Frankie applied her lipstick carefully, watching him watch her. She might be pushing sixty but she was holding up well and she looked damned good. She also knew how to play men like fiddles. “That’s hardly worth getting excited over. What other fun things are there to do here? I guess there’s always the Elvis review, though that boy is in it!”
“That boy?”
Irma was sitting on the balcony, but Frankie could sense her interest immediately. Her damn sister was incapable of playing it cool. Ignoring Irma and moving so that she blocked Marcus’ view of the balcony, she settled on the bed beside him. Placing one hand on his knee, she spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “We took this trip in that beat up old caddie for my niece’s benefit. That man broke her heart. We truly thought she was going to Graceland to have fun and take her mind off him. We didn’t know she was just chasing after him until it was too late…She’s desperate, you know? Her biological clock is ticking and it’s turned her into a lunatic.”
Marcus chuckled. “I know women are slaves to their hormones.”
Asshole, Frankie thought. She needed to play this man just enough to get them all out in one piece, including Dixie’s worthless ass boyfriend. Everyone thought she was crazy and they weren’t entirely wrong, but being crazy and being stupid were totally different things. Marcus Mahoney was bad news and had been for a long time. She remembered him when she’d worked as a waitress in Biloxi all those years earlier.
Third shift in a dive diner, all the men from the casinos and strip clubs had come in during the wee hours. He’d hung with a bad crowd and from the size of the rings on his fingers, he’d only moved up the ranks of the Dixie Mafia.
“You run along, Marcus. I need to finish getting ready,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. She leaned in, so that she brushed against him suggestively, but then quickly pulled back.
“Frances, you’re driving me crazy,” he said. “Come back to my suite. Spend the afternoon in bed with me!”
Eyes flashing, she pulled back completely, drawing her shoulders back and her chin up. “What sort of woman do you think I am, Marcus? I only just met you last night! It takes more than a couple of drinks and a few hands of cards to woo me!”
“Frances, baby, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re just so beautiful I can’t think straight!”
Her money was the only thing screwing up his thinking, or rather the money he thought she had. She’d flashed enough cash at the tables last night to get his attention. When she’d seen his goons escorting Dixie onto the elevator with that bogus Elvis, she’d known it would be up to her to save them. She’d put on her slinkiest dress and played the wealthy grand dame.
It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the Viva was going down hill fast. There were plenty of guests and lots of gambling, which meant the profits were going somewhere other than back into the hotel and she’d bet ten to one odds that somewhere was Mahoney’s pocket.
“Leave, Marcus, until I can decide whether or not I want to forgive you!”
He tugged her forward, hugging her and kissing her cheek. “You’ll forgive me. I’m too charming not to.”
She didn’t say anything, but allowed her lips to tilt slightly in a half smile. “We’ll see about that. I’ll meet you for lunch downstairs.”
“Don’t be too long, darlin’,” he called as he exited the room.
When he was gone, Irma came whirling in. “What the hell are you doing, Frankie? That man is dangerous!”
“Yes, he is. And he’s got his goons set on Dixie. In order to know if she’s safe, we need to know what the hell he’s up to…the only way to do that is to get into his suite.”
“You just said no to that!” Irma objected.
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Of course, I said no. He’s as paranoid as I am. If I act like I’m eager to get into his suite, he’ll be suspicious!”
“You’ve got him thinking you’re some kitchen appliance heiress! What happens when he finds out you’re only income is a disability check because you think Martians are real?” Irma demanded.
Frankie’s jaw firmed. “They are real. Just because you weren’t with me in Arizona—”
Irma grabbed her by the arms, shaking her. “You never went to Arizona! And if you can’t keep this straight, you’re going to get us all killed!”
“Pull it together, Irma! I’m the crazy one, remember? I’ve got this!”
~*~*~
Dixie was hiding out next to the ice machine as Mahoney and his goons waited for the elevator. Hunkering down, she made herself as small as possible and tried not to even breathe audibly.
“I need to know everything I can about Frances Claiborne. If she really is the heir to the Claiborne appliance empire, she could be the answer to our prayers,” Mahoney said.
Goon One nodded. “I’ll get on it, boss.”
Mahoney shook his head. “Send the idiot. I need you here keeping an eye on that cut-rate Elvis and the niece. I don’t trust him. He’s either a crook or a fed. Either way, I need to know what the hell he’s doing at all times.”
“Well, this morning, he and his girlfriend made up. Loudly.”
From her vantage point, reflected in the aluminum of the ice machine, Dixie could see Mahoney smile. “Th
e aunt is a little long in the tooth for me, but still a damn good looking woman. That niece, though…she’s a juicy piece I’d like to take a bite out of.”
It was all she could do not to retch. The man was foul. Utterly foul.
“If he’s a crook, we’ll just get rid of him. If he’s a fed, it’s much more complicated,” the goon replied.
Mahoney nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll still get rid of him, just more discreetly. We can’t afford for him to report back to his superiors or ours that money is missing from the Viva. If Danova even gets wind that we’ve been skimming from the hotel, we’re both dead. He’s got a long reach even from prison. We’ll wish the feds had taken us.”
The goon nodded his agreement. “Understood, boss. I’ll take care of it.”
The ice machine suddenly kicked on, ice cubes clattering loudly in the bin. Mahoney and his goons all turned toward the noise. Dixie’s breath caught, her heart thundering in her chest, as she prayed for all she was worth. Please, oh please, oh please, oh please, do not let them see me.
It could have been seconds or minutes, but it felt like endless agonizing hours before the elevator doors opened.
Mahoney sighed. “Let’s go…and no more conversations in the hallway. Who knows who the hell might be listening?”
Dixie didn’t even breathe until the elevator doors closed again. Once they did, she sagged against the wall in relief, resting her head against the side of the ice machine that nearly ratted her out. When she thought her legs would support her, she rose and headed toward the door of Frankie and Irma’s suite. Knocking softly, she waited for one of them to answer, her eyes never straying from the elevator doors, petrified that Mahoney or one of his goons would come back.
The door suddenly opened and Frankie grabbed her by the shoulders and drug her inside. “You are in a shit ton of trouble.”
“We are in a shit ton of trouble,” Dixie corrected. “What the hell are you doing cozying up to Mahoney?”
The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary Page 8
