AtHerCommand

by Marcia James

  She knew she ought to get up, make herself and Smokey a late-night snack and turn in. But the sofa cradled her tired body and the dog felt like a comforting if fluttering heating pad on her lap. Domino closed her eyes and let her mind drift. When was the last time she’d taken a vacation? Maybe when this was done, she’d go to Vail for some spring skiing.

  Half dreaming, she imagined skiing down a packed trail, wearing a T-shirt, jeans and polarized shades against the intense April sunshine. At the end of the run, she’d slip off her skis and lean them with her poles against the lodge wall before entering the chalet. A blazing fire would be burning in a gigantic stone fireplace, welcoming and homey.

  Relaxing, Dom entered the dream more fully. Walking awkwardly in her ski boots, she approached the man seated in an overstuffed chair by the hearth. He stood and her eyes explored his tall, broad-shouldered form. The flickering fire caught the highlights in his reddish-brown hair and his blue eyes sparkled. He handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the whipped cream on top almost as tempting as his smiling lips.

  “I missed you,” he said, the low rumble of his voice caressing her senses.

  Instead of answering, she looped her free hand around his neck and pulled his face down to hers. He smelled of pine smoke, chocolate and virile male. With a teasing swipe, she ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He groaned and she pressed her mouth to his, sampling and tantalizing. Commandeering the kiss, he plunged his tongue in a sexual rhythm that had her body clamoring and her mind calling his name. Dalton.

  Domino’s head snapped upright in alarm, scattering her sleep. There was no fire, no ski lodge and certainly no Dalton here. She was in her house with a disgruntled dog in her lap. The whole thing had a been a dream, thank God. But suddenly she had a desire for hot chocolate and hotter kisses. Damn. She picked up Smokey and headed to the kitchen. At least she had hot chocolate handy. As she put on water to boil, Dom wished satisfying one out of the two strong cravings would be enough.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Give tai chi a try, Mr. G.” Suzi held open the massage room door for her septuagenarian client. “You’ll be amazed how it’ll reduce that arthritis pain.”

  “Thank you, dear.” The elderly gentleman shuffled into the hall. “If it helps half as much as your deep heat massages, it’ll be worth looking like an old fool.”

  Suzi smiled. “Ignore the martial arts side of tai chi and think of it as a slow waltz, something an old ballroom dancer like you could do in his sleep.”

  The old man beamed at her. “I’ll call about lessons tomorrow. Don’t work too hard.”

  She watched him walk slowly down the hall, his movements more fluid and his back straighter than when he’d arrived for his massage. Warmth spread through her chest and she felt proud she’d assuaged some of her client’s pain. Mr. G. was a sweet man who loved to brag about his grandkids, complain about his arthritis and get a straight massage. He never tried to grab her butt, something she couldn’t say about all her clients.

  Suzi turned back to the massage room as the one client she wished would grab her butt came around the corner. Calvin. A rush of pleasure flooded her and she flashed him a happy grin.

  “Hi!” Suzi greeted him as he strode closer. “I didn’t see you on my appointment list for tonight.” Calvin stopped several feet away and he wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Uh, I’m not on your list.” He met her eyes and then looked down.

  The door across the hall opened and Ilona, one of the unfriendly Russian masseuses, stepped into the hallway. The red of her hair, a color not found in nature, was clown-like under the fluorescent lights. She sized up the situation and gloated.

  “Calvin made an appointment with me this evening,” the hollow-cheeked woman said with a smirk, her stare cruel and her thick accent grating.

  Confused, Suzi turned to Calvin, expecting an explanation, a denial, something. And the something she saw in his eyes was embarrassment. The warmth she’d felt after Mr. G.’s appointment dissipated in a wash of hurt and damaged pride.

  “Oh I see. I won’t keep you.” Suzi pasted a false smile on her lips as she backed into her room.

  Calvin took a step toward her, only to be brought up short by Ilona’s strong hands on his arm. “This way, darling,” the masseuse purred as she steered him toward her room. “The sooner we get started, the sooner you’ll reach your happy ending.”

  Shocked, Suzi’s eyes flew to Calvin’s. He started to speak but she stepped into her room and closed the door. Damn. Ilona had been checking out Calvin like a vulture drools over roadkill. They hadn’t even made it into her massage room before the woman had started rubbing her hands over Suzi’s client. Her client? That was a joke. Suzi knew now she wasn’t anyone special to Calvin, not even his preferred masseuse.

  Suzi leaned against the door and let her anger build. The mounting fury felt a hell of a lot better than hurt. Happy ending. Calvin was allowing that cold bitch to touch him intimately. The thought made her sick. Action. She needed work to take her mind off the hands-on session across the hall.

  Pushing away from the door, Suzi readied her room for her next client, an environmental lawyer who liked to convene with Mother Earth during his massages. She slipped in a nature sounds CD and re-shelved the classical music Mr. G. preferred. The noise of a babbling brook filled the room. Blowing out the cinnamon candles she’d used for her last massage, Suzi lit evergreen incense that filled the air with a woodsy aroma. With brisk precision, she restocked her hot towel holder and opened a new pair of disposable gloves. But all the time she was working, she argued mentally with herself.

  What? You thought you had a claim on the guy? Just because you enjoyed his company, doesn’t mean he’s interested in you.

  But I made Calvin laugh.

  You’ve seen him a grand total of a couple of hours. And don’t forget the way he stormed out of his last massage.

  But Calvin almost kissed me.

  That was your imagination. You’re just another pair of hands to him—interchangeable, replaceable.

  With angry movements, she changed the massage table linens, spraying the new sheets with a pine scent. She was a dope, a hopeless romantic caught up in a rescue fantasy. The man was still in love with his dead wife and Suzi wasn’t going to tempt him back to the land of the living.

  She mixed sandalwood massage oil, spilling drops on the counter. Besides, Calvin wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. She deserved a man who loved her with all his heart, not just the sliver he hadn’t given to a ghost. Love? Suzi stopped mixing. Who said anything about love? Boy, she really was a dope.

  There was a knock at her door. “It’s open,” she called.

  Brian R., the lawyer, stepped in and closed the door. “Hi. I’m a little early,” he said with a smile, friendly as always.

  Brian’s dimples, along with the lock of blond hair falling over his forehead, gave him a boyish look. But his rock-climbing and hiking hobbies had turned his body into a lean, sexy dream. Too bad she wasn’t interested in this client instead of the angst-ridden Calvin.

  “No problem,” Suzi answered. “I’ll be ready soon.”

  Brian ducked into the dressing area and she finished setting up. This client enjoyed Shiatsu-style massages with some deep-muscle work thrown in. And he preferred listening to the woodland sounds over carrying on a conversation. That was good since she didn’t feel like chatting.

  Brian, wearing only a towel wrap, walked to the massage table. He lay on the warm sheets with his head in the pillowing extension. Using her thumbs, palms and elbows, Suzi pressed into the tension knots along his shoulders. She tried to empty her mind but against her will, her thoughts drifted to Calvin.

  Maybe he was attracted to me and was uncomfortable about it. Maybe that’s why he made an appointment with Ilona.

  And maybe you’re just grasping at straws because you haven’t had a boyfriend in this century.

  “Suzi!”


  Startled, she realized Brian had rolled onto his side and was staring up at her. “Yes?”

  “If I’d wanted to be beaten up, I would’ve booked an S and M counselor.” Brian was grinning as he said it but Suzi felt her face grow hot. She’d been pummeling the poor man, taking out her frustrations on the wrong client.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’ll tone it down a little.”

  “My deltoids thank you,” Brian joked, lying facedown.

  She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, using a gentle acupressure to relax the muscles. Suzi struggled to let the tranquil music calm her jumbled feelings. But she couldn’t stop wondering what Ilona was doing with Calvin.

  * * * * *

  Wrapping the towel tightly around his waist, Calvin took a deep breath and walked out of the dressing area. Ilona, predatory and smug, stood waiting by her massage table. She was hard, from her dyed hair to the black liner rimming her eyes, and her welcoming smile was a parody of Suzi’s genuine grin.

  Suzi. He hadn’t meant to hurt her and was amazed that he could. But the confusion and pain in her eyes had been clear. This was crazy. She made him feel like a cheating husband, but the only person he was cheating on was his late wife. Even though Pam was gone, it felt wrong to have some of the ideas he was having about Suzi. He should’ve turned down this assignment.

  Booking Ilona for a massage was just part of his FBI job but he couldn’t explain that to Suzi. The sooner he planted misinformation with this club masseuse and traced the classified data leak, the sooner he could wrap up this case. Maybe, when it was over, he would tell Suzi who he really was.

  “C’mon. Don’t be shy,” Ilona coaxed, thrusting out her chest and quirking her finger in an effort to appear sexy. The attempt fell way short of the mark.

  Calvin moved forward and lay on the massage table with his face in the doughnut extension. She began to stroke his shoulders, leaning over his back so her chest brushed his skin. Calvin felt nothing but disgust. Her fake fingernails, so long they curved slightly under, added to the unpleasantness. He thought about Suzi’s massages, relaxing and wonderful, and about their easy camaraderie.

  “You are new to the club?” Ilona asked.

  “This is my third visit,” he said. “I’ve gotten massages.”

  “I think poor Suzi has a crush on you,” she said, the malicious delight plain in her voice.

  Calvin felt a burst of anger and started to defend Suzi. Then he reconsidered. He was supposed to be gaining this woman’s trust, encouraging her to ask him questions. The only thing important here was his assignment.

  “Boy, that feels good,” Calvin replied, ignoring Ilona’s comment. “You wouldn’t believe how stressful my job is.”

  She massaged her way down to his lower back before asking, “Your club application says you work at the State Department?”

  “Yes. We’re putting together a sensitive alliance between two feuding countries. It’ll tip the world power scales in our direction,” he bragged, hoping she’d take the bait. “All hush-hush, need-to-know stuff.”

  “Oh you must be very important to the government.” Ilona stroked his ego while she teased the tips of her scratchy nails under the waist of his towel wrap. “Power makes me hot.”

  Calvin shuddered, wondering how quickly he could spill the details of this classified lie and still be credible. Ilona was minutes away from suggesting he turn over for a happy ending. No way were those witchy hands touching his cock. He might be FBI but there were some things he wouldn’t do for his country.

  * * * * *

  Dom, on a break mid-shift and carrying Smokey in the tote bag over her shoulder, rolled the lightweight surrey into the loading bay. She spotted Benny immediately, the gentle giant a good half-foot taller than the other men unloading a large shipment. As he turned from the truck docked by the open bay, Benny saw her. Smiling, Domino waved and pointed to the surrey. He hurried over to greet her.

  “How’re you doin’?” Benny asked, his grin infectious.

  “Just fine. I’m bringing back the surrey.”

  “You didn’t have to.” He pushed the surrey next to a porn movie set along the wall. “I woulda gotten it for you.”

  “Well, this gave me and Smokey an excuse to visit.” She slipped the tiny dog out of her tote.

  “Smokey!” Benny’s delight at seeing the Chinese Crested was touching. Dom resolved to keep Benny out of the arrests when the DEA raided the club.

  While Benny stroked his thick fingers with gentle care over Smokey’s skin, Dom checked out the loading bay. At least five men were unloading crates from the eighteen-wheeler backed up to the bay and others were stacking the cargo with a forklift. It was close to midnight and the job looked nowhere near done.

  “That’s a big order,” Domino commented.

  “Sex toys are big business,” Benny joked. “Most of the crates are from China.” He gestured to the cartons, some stacked five high. Dom took advantage of his distraction to set Smokey on the floor and give him the sign to search. Keeping one eye on the little dog, she continued to chat up Benny.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a long night for you guys,” she observed.

  “Yeah, we’ll be here ’til dawn,” Benny said. “But night is better for the trucks. You know, driving around D.C. and avoiding traffic jams.”

  She nodded, watching as Smokey slowly examined crate after crate. Dom hoped like hell the tiny mutt wouldn’t end up under the wheels of a forklift.

  “Does the club really use this many sex toys?” Dom asked. “The batteries alone must cost as much as our national debt.”

  “Nah.” Benny laughed. “In a couple days, we’ll load a bunch of these on another truck. That’s how it goes. We get a big shipment then send some out.”

  Smokey walked around a crate set to the left of the bay. The wooden container looked similar to the others except for a long tear in the shipping label on its side.

  “So we share our toys with other clubs?” Dom fished.

  “Don’t know. We send boxes to New York and sometimes L.A.,” he said. “I’m just a mushroom.”

  “A mushroom?” Dom could tell Benny was dying for her to ask for an explanation.

  “Yeah, they keep me in the dark and feed me shit.”

  Benny exploded in laughter and Dom joined in. The slow-witted man was so proud of his joke, his mirth was contagious. As she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, she glanced at Smokey. He raised his paw in the signal she’d been awaiting. Drugs. The crate with the torn paperwork contained an illegal substance bound, possibly, for the Cabazones.

  “That’s a good one, Benny,” she said, as the man’s laughter subsided into chuckles.

  Domino committed to memory the location of the crate and the condition of its shipping label. There was no way she could plant the tracking device that evening with all the activity in the loading dock. So she resolved to return the following night when the place wasn’t crawling with workmen.

  “Well, I better get going.” She pointed to her watch. “My break’s almost over. Here, Smokey.”

  Dom gave the hand command for the dog to heel and the pooch came running. Benny patted Smokey one last time and said goodnight. Carrying the Chinese Crested in her tote again, Dom headed for the women’s locker room to safely tuck away the tote before her next client arrived. When she got home, she’d page Meyers and arrange a meeting. With a little luck and the force of the DEA behind her, she was going to put Salvi and his cronies in jail for a very long time.

  * * * * *

  Unlocking his front door, Calvin dragged himself into his darkened condo. He flipped on the lights as he went but the brightness couldn’t disperse the sterile chill of the place. Walking into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. The lone six-pack shared the cavernous fridge with a couple of ancient takeout boxes and a brown banana. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t hungry.

  After several swigs of beer, he carried the bottle into his bedroom and s
et it on the dresser. The furniture here and throughout the two-bedroom condo was adequate for his needs but not exactly House Beautiful. That was okay since he spent little time within the walls.

  Three years before, after Pam had passed away, he’d sold their Maryland house and bought this D.C. condo. The excuse he’d given was the need to be closer to his Pennsylvania Avenue office. But that hadn’t explained why he’d sold all his furniture as well…modern, sunny pieces he’d picked out with his wife. The truth was, being in that house with those furnishings had been too painful a reminder of happier days.

  Kicking off his loafers and carrying the beer with him, Calvin sat on his king-sized bed and lay back against the pillows. As he did every night, he turned to look at the framed photo of Pam on the nightstand. She’d been so gentle and sweet, just the opposite of his often grumpy personality. Their strengths had complemented each other and he missed like hell coming home to her after a long, tough day.

  His friends and family—even Pam’s parents—had urged him to move on, to remarry and have children. But in his mind, his wife’s passing hadn’t released him from his wedding vows. And after Pam, anyone else would be a poor substitute.

  Setting his beer on the nightstand, Calvin reached into his hip pocket for his wallet. Opening an inner flap, he extracted his wedding ring, which he’d removed for his session with Ilona. He knew the Russian masseuse wouldn’t let a little thing like a marriage get in the way of her come-ons but Calvin had felt strange wearing Pam’s ring into the club. He easily slipped the gold band back on his ring finger, but once in place, the ring seemed oddly constricting.

  Calvin took another sip of his beer. It’d been a draining day and his body craved sleep. But his mind kept returning to the hurt in Suzi’s eyes. Hell. It was ridiculous to feel as if he were cheating on Suzi by going to another masseuse. Suzi was just a suspect in his case.