The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set

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The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 14

by Michele E. Gwynn


  Chapter Eighteen

  PAUL BROKE THE NEWS to Nadia...eventually. Thinking he had come back for more, and happy about that fact, Nadia had welcomed him with open arms. It mattered not that they’d just parted in the early morning hours. As soon as she received his call asking if he could come by, she was ready for the next round. It was unexpected since he’d told her he had some business to deal with that day. Still, it was gratifying that he would come back again, so soon, to her bed. The news he delivered afterward, however, was not.

  “I don’t understand.” She sat up in bed, pulling the sheet up over her breasts.

  “The business I had to attend to today, that is when I was told the offer of employment no longer stands. I wasn’t informed as to why, only that I should tell you straight away that my uncle must rescind the offer. I’m so sorry, Nadia. Please know that the decision had nothing at all to do with you, and everything to do with business.”

  She looked at him for a long time, gauging his words. Something felt off. “Was there ever really a job? Are you really who you say you are or was this some scam to get me into bed? Or Elsa? That’s who you really wanted all along. You came to offer her the job originally, didn’t you?” Her dark eyes turned stormy as she worked herself into a rage.

  “It’s true. My uncle sent me here to recruit her, but she wasn’t interested, and I made an executive decision to offer it to you instead. You’re a real talent, a wonderful asset to any club.” He tried to smooth things over with compliments.

  “But your uncle didn’t want me. He wanted her, and you failed to secure her. You didn’t really have the authority to hire me, did you?” She got up off the bed, and stood clutching the sheet around her, denying him the sight of her nakedness.

  Paul sighed. He wasn’t going to get out of this one unscathed. Nadia was no fool. There really was nothing he could say that would make this any better, so he rose, grabbing his clothing, and began putting on his pants. When he finished dressing, he turned to her, looking her straight in the eye, and simply said, “I’m sorry, Nadia.”

  He walked out of her bedroom to the front door. She followed, and the storm he knew was coming began.

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You promise me a job and use my body, and then yank it away and all you can say is ‘I’m sorry, Nadia?’ Just who the hell do you think you are?” The sheet slipped as she punctuated each word with hand gestures. Her Italian temper erupted like Mount Vesuvius. If he didn’t run, he was going to be burned alive.

  Paul opened the front door, but turned back to see her standing there, furious and glorious all at the same time. Despite feeling terrible about treating her this way, he knew he’d done the right thing. She would never know that he had actually saved her from a very bad situation. So be it. He looked her up and down one last time and grinned.

  “You’re truly magnificent. Good luck.” With that, he blew her a kiss and left. A loud bang resounded against the door after he shut it, and he knew she’d given in to her fury by throwing something solid and quite heavy at his retreating back. Good thing he’d walked out quickly, and that the door had caught hell instead of the back of his head.

  It was late in the evening by the time Paul arrived back at his hotel. The hours he’d spent with Nadia had flown by pleasantly until the end. He showered, and then ordered room service. He was intent on racking up the bill, so he ordered porn, although he was too lost in thought to pay any attention to it. It didn’t matter. As long as the charges drove the bill up, and his uncle was left with no choice but to pay it, he was happy. Tomorrow night, he would pick Sarah up for their dinner date. He couldn’t wait to see what it would take to pick the lock that led to her treasure. It had been a very long time since he’d felt challenged by a woman. She was different. Not raised with European values, but rather, American inhibitions.

  After hearing about her life growing up in Texas, he was genuinely surprised by her uninhibited escapade the night before with the three women. The Sarah he witnessed last night from behind a two-way mirror was not the same woman he had lunch with today.

  He wondered which of the two was the real Sarah Brown. He sincerely hoped for the sexual creature from the dungeon, but also found that he wouldn’t mind the young lady with whom he’d shared a meal. Of course, a combination of both might steal my jaded heart, he thought. Paul laughed out loud, knowing full well that wouldn’t happen any time soon. At least, he didn’t think so.

  He thought about Uncle Peter. He knew once he got home, the shit was going to literally hit the fan. Standing up to him was never easy for Paul, who always forgot his own maturity, strength, and size in the presence of the monster of his childhood. It was time he remembered, and past time he dealt with Peter once and for all. Paul was not a religious man by any stretch, but he prayed for guidance; not for the degenerate man he was today, but for the innocent child he’d once been. Had it not been for Peter Knudson, Paul thought he might’ve stood a chance in this life to be successful. But he remained haunted by the past and incapacitated by fear and insecurity that kept him from realizing his full potential. Surely, God, if he exists, could understand and lend a helping hand. But if God exists, where the hell was he when I needed him all those years ago? I was just a child. A child, for Christ sakes!

  He would not, however, wait for God to protect Anno. He’d done that himself, even if by accident. Peter will never get his lecherous, perverted hands on that wonderful boy. Knowing he’d at least thwarted that crime he felt a tad better. A knock on the door alerted him to the arrival of his dinner. He signed the room service ticket and added a generous tip, all to be added to the bill, of course. As Paul sat down to his Filet Mignon and a 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon, he considered how best to approach Sarah the following evening.

  She did seem adventurous, but it appeared she needed to feel a certain amount of comfort before taking the leap toward pleasure. She trusted Elsa therefore she allowed the experience to happen. He would have to gain enough of her trust or else she might shut down on him completely. The only way he could think to accomplish this would be to reign in his desire, and seek no more than a goodnight kiss, an innocent one at that. If he could show her patience, she would open up on her own, become the aggressor. He made his plans whilst savoring the texture of a good steak and sipping a fine wine. Delicious. But then, free food always tastes better. His plan would take at least two dates, possibly a third, but that would be stretching it. He could pull this off.

  He turned his attention to the triple X-rated movie currently playing. A red-headed Irishman dressed as a leprechaun was vigorously plowing a blonde woman’s ‘pot o’ gold’ and asking, “Whose gold is it?” The woman was screaming her pleasure. “Yours!” It was silly, but he didn’t mind. Paul cleaned his plate and worked on polishing off the Cabernet. By the end of the bottle, his eyes drifted shut. He’d managed to shove his tray outside the door and hang the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. He hated being awakened by housekeeping too early. He fell asleep thinking about Sarah, but she kept asking him where he hid his gold. He couldn’t find it no matter where he searched, and she could only point at his heart unable to speak. He didn’t understand, so he looked under his tiny leprechaun bed, and a monster jumped out, landing atop him. He screamed silently in terror, paralyzed inside the nightmare. No one came to help.

  Chapter Nineteen

  WHEN PAUL DIDN’T ARRIVE back in Amsterdam by that evening, Peter Knudson put his plan into action. He knew his defiant nephew would react to the message by simply ignoring it, staying in Berlin on his dime. He called the Marriott and confirmed Paul was still registered and hadn’t checked out. In fact, he’d ordered a very expensive dinner on the room tab.

  The little bastard! He tried canceling the reservation so they’d throw Paul out, but the desk clerk informed him that such short notice would result in a rather large fee.

  Knudson handed an envelope of money and an airline ticket to the tattooed man with the Mohawk. Gruber opened it and cou
nted the cash, then folded it and placed it in the pocket of his leather jacket. He nodded once, and then left the office. It was late. Knudson stood looking out his window onto the street below. Men walked in and out of the doors next to the display windows glowing bright red neon. Inside each, women in various degrees of undress beckoned passers-by to come in and sample their wares. Peter could only think of his blond angel, and how he was snatched away by his ungrateful nephew. The inaccuracy of his viewpoint didn’t translate for him, the knowledge that he’d never actually had the boy, but neither did he acknowledge the immorality and criminality of his selfish pleasure-seeking predilections. He didn’t care who he hurt, as long as he got what he wanted. Since that didn’t seem possible at this time, he was now making sure to discover what Paul cared about. Once he knew, he planned to viciously yank it away from him forever.

  The idea of exacting revenge felt good and Peter smiled. His vision blurred, and a sharp pain ricocheted across his chest and down his left arm. He shook himself, rubbing the arm. Not yet. Not yet, you damned devil. I’m not ready. He slowly ambled over to his chair where he sat down and rummaged inside his desk drawer, seeking a small bottle of pills. He quickly extracted one and placed it under his tongue. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. The dizziness abated, and the pain subsided. He still felt weak, but at least the tightness in his chest eased.

  My angel. Peter drifted off into memories of the blond boy tossing a baseball in a park on a lovely spring day. He imagined again, the smile that caught his attention, and convinced himself that smile was for him alone. While prostitutes plied their trade outside, inside, a monster fantasized a child’s worst nightmare. He fell asleep sprawled over his desk chair.

  ACROSS TOWN AT SCHIPHOL, Gruber boarded a KLM redeye to Berlin, Tegal. He carried only a small army-green duffel bag filled with necessities. In his hand was a business card for a gentleman known for making his money gun running on the black market. He slid the card in his wallet and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans. After buckling himself in, he pulled out his iPod and pushed the earbuds in his ears, loudly playing the Sex Pistols’ Anarchy. Next to him, an older woman glanced nervously in his direction. He noticed and grinned at her, displaying the holes in his gumline. Chuckling evilly, he winked. She looked quickly away.

  The plane took off, expected to land on time at four-thirty in the morning. Throughout history, mothers of the world have iterated over and over to their children that there is nothing good out in the world after midnight. In this particular case, arriving in Berlin in the wee hours, every mother was dead to right.

  Chapter Twenty

  “WHAT SHOULD I WEAR, Elsa?” Sarah spoke into her iPhone as she rummaged through the clothing hanging in her hotel closet. “I don’t even know where he’s planning on taking me.” She picked up a navy blue sleeveless sheathe and held it up to her body, glancing down to see how it looked. Her phone began to slip, so she quickly cocked her head back over to the side.

  “Go for simple and classy. I think he likes that about you or else he’d be taking Nadia out instead.” Elsa knew Paul and Nadia had spent the night before together but didn’t feel it was necessary to say anything. Both Sarah and Paul were only visiting Berlin so a single date was no big deal, and her new friend might enjoy herself. Paul was very handsome and polished. Seeing no harm in withholding the information, Elsa figured Sarah might have some juicy stories to share afterward.

  “Nadia? You think?” Sarah asked as she moved two more outfits out of the way and eyed a white skirt with red flowers that fell to just above her knees. The skirt had a red halter-style top that went with it, and she’d purchased strappy red heels to match. In all, it was fun, flirty, and sexy, yet still classy.

  “No, not really,” she prevaricated. “I was just throwing it out there.” Elsa, who was at work on her day off cleaning her instruments and sterilizing leather bed cushions, nipple clamps, and penis pumps before putting them into the on-site autoclave, laughed.

  “Will you be having some fun with our Dutchman, Sarah?”

  “What? No! Remember, I promised your brother I’d behave myself, and I would hate to break my word to the man I love.” The cheeky grin on Sarah’s face translated through the phone.

  “I’ll be sure to let him know you said that since he’s been depressed all day and keeps asking me if you’re actually interested in Paul. I’ve never seen him so put out, poor pup. Seriously, though. If the mood strikes, remember you’re an adult and can do whatever it is you please.”

  “I know. But I’m still not sure it’s what I want. I can’t get Anthony out of my head. Speaking of, I haven’t decided what to do about his email yet, either.”

  Elsa sighed. “You’ll know when you know. In the meantime, it’s good that he’s realizing he messed up.”

  “What makes you think he thinks he messed up?” Sarah sat down on the edge of her bed and began removing her clothes to shower.

  “Because, darling. He emailed you. A man who doesn’t want any more contact with a woman doesn’t do that. He’s been thinking about you, bet on it. So letting him wonder a day or two more is okay. He left you wondering. You leave him wondering. Then, if you decide to answer his message, you have the upper hand. You set the pace and the rules.”

  “Hmmn.” Sarah chewed her lower lip, thinking. “Well, you know more than I do on that score, so I’ll take your words into consideration. Okay, I have to jump into the shower. I’ll call you later if you’re up and let you know how it all went.”

  “Yes! Call me. I want all the juicy details,” Elsa said, laughing.

  “No juicy details. Stop that, Elsa! And tell Anno I said hello.” Sarah’s mood lifted. It was nice having a girlfriend to share with, to talk things over.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll tell him. You go have fun. Tusch!”

  Sarah walked naked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She stood, looking at her body in the mirror while the water heated up. An expression of consideration settled in her eyes. She stood there, quietly, as steam filled the room. Blinking, she turned and stepped under the hot spray and washed away the day.

  A KNOCK ON THE DUNGEON door made Elsa jump. She wasn’t expecting anyone. No one besides Hans was around. It was early yet. Club hours didn’t begin until later that day. “Enter,” she said.

  Nicolette peeked around the corner and then sauntered in. She looked at Elsa, who was polishing medieval ankle chains with a soft cloth.

  “Oh, hey. What are you doing in today?” Elsa, noting it was just Nicolette, went back to putting a shine on her equipment.

  “Same as you, only I’m finished. Need some help?” Nicolette stopped in front of Elsa, who was sitting on one of her rolling stools, and casually shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. The action pushed her unbound breasts forward, displaying their shape under her white T-shirt.

  Elsa looked up and came face to face with Nic’s nipples, which poked through their cotton covering. She licked her lips quickly and looked down, polishing the second ankle clamp.

  “I’ve got it, thanks.” Nicolette rarely came into her dungeon except on very few occasions, and only with Nadia or Hans in tow usually. It was no secret to Elsa that she only had relationships with other women, and it did not go unnoticed that Nic had, sometimes, shown a marked interest in her. Elsa didn’t mind a dalliance now and again with another woman, but her primary sexuality was heterosexual. Still, she admitted to herself that she’d wondered about Nicolette from time to time. She was quite a beautiful woman, after all.

  “Are you sure?” Nicolette’s hand covered her own as she sank down to her knees before Elsa. Her fingers caressed the soft hand working diligently to shine up the metal. Heat crept up Elsa’s neck at the contact.

  Nicolette watched Elsa’s face for a reaction, reassurance. She had taken a great risk in attempting to seduce her colleague, her work-place friend. But the opportunity presented itself with both of them here alone. If things went wrong, it could backfire i
n a most unpleasant way, creating a tense working environment. But if it worked out...she dared hope it would. Slowly, Nic took the cloth and ankle clamp out of Elsa’s hands and set them down to the side. She inched forward on her knees, slowly spreading Elsa’s apart to fit in between them. When their faces were inches apart, she ran her hands up Elsa’s arms all the way to either side of her face where she gently sank her fingers into the thick, red hair. Naked desire shined in Nicolette’s eyes.

  Elsa sat, frozen, holding her breath and waiting to see what Nic would do next. Her heart raced and her body caught fire. The blonde woman held her gaze, seeking reassurance, and whispered, “So schön.” It was spoken with reverence. Then, Nicolette leaned all the way in and kissed Elsa full on the lips. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but then it exploded into a passionate tangle of tongues. Nicolette tasted the inside of Elsa’s mouth, nipped her lower lip with her teeth, and deepened the kiss even more as she slid her hands down from her face, and around her back where they roamed freely up and down, cupping her hips and pulling her closer.

  Elsa’s hands caressed Nic’s sides and found their way to her back where they, too, slid down over her derriere, squeezing as their hips ground into each other. Breasts rubbed through cotton, further arousing them both. Nicolette brought a hand around to cup and mold Elsa’s breast. She slid her palm over the hard nipple, then circled her fingers around it before pinching it just enough to elicit an exquisite pain.

  “Oh!” Elsa moaned into Nic’s mouth. Encouraged, she pulled Elsa’s shirt up over her head and quickly unhooked her black cotton bra. Pulling back, she stared at the small, pert breasts and rose-colored nipples. There was a charming sprinkling of freckles across her chest, a natural phenomenon for most redheads. The contrast against her white skin was breathtaking. Fearful it would end before it began, Nicolette leaned down and took one of the rosy peaks into her mouth and rolled her tongue over the tip, sucking lightly.

 

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