Sticky Fingers, page 11
When she kissed Lucas, her lips parted. Her teeth bit into his bottom lip, as if needing to impart some of that wild energy from her body to his own. Lucas accepted her, absorbed her, and as always he took everything that she had to give.
Back at his office, Nick glared at the lettering on the front door. He shook his head, entered the small room, then came right back out again with a sharp silver razor in his hand. Slowly, carefully, he edited the gold-lettered words on the door, changing Hudson & Stone, Private Investigators, to simply Hudson on the top line and Private Investigator on the second.
They’d been casual partners for four years, since meeting and liking each other at a police event. Deciding to pool their resources, they had wound up making an excellent team. Now, that was over. He’d already cut Hunter a cheque for half of what was in the business savings account, and he’d sent copies of the legal paperwork that would divorce the man from the business. But after that, he didn’t really expect to hear from Hunter again.
Not since he’d sent the pictures of Hunter with Bailey to Hunter’s wife.
Sitting down on the edge of his desk, he thought about reaching for the bottle tucked into the second drawer. But then he heard Bogie’s voice speaking in his head. ‘Take a break, Hud. Get back on the job.’ And he knew, as always, that his mentor was right.
Chapter Eight
‘So lovely to see you,’ the masked hostess said to Jodie. The two women were standing beneath a shimmering chandelier in the centre of a marble-floored living room. Hurrying past on their way to the dance floor or the bar strode men and women dressed in tuxedos and ball gowns. The partiers would have looked like attendees at any other social event, except that to complete the outfits, the guests all wore creative and varied masks to hide their identities. Jodie’s own mask was made of brilliant multi-coloured feathers, but the hostess knew who she was, anyway. The woman had paid careful attention when she had entered the mansion, and had focused on the floor-length scarlet silk dress that perfectly fitted Jodie’s slim form.
Leaning closer, the woman murmured, ‘And where’s Mr Sterling?’
Jodie nodded vaguely towards the next room, where other masked guests mingled around two long tables filled with an array of exotic finger foods. ‘I saw him head that way,’ she added, ‘towards the bar. He always likes a drink to start the evening.’
‘Don’t we all?’ the hostess murmured.
Jodie shrugged and looked over the woman’s shoulder, trying to spot Lucas in the crowd.
‘But what mask is he wearing?’ the woman asked next, her voice breathless. ‘I promise, I won’t tell anyone.’
‘That would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it?’ Jodie smiled when she spoke, but the woman couldn’t see her lips curve up beneath the feathered mask. ‘I’ll tell you this –’ She leaned closer, as if about to impart a fantastic secret, and the hostess tilted her head, anxiously wanting to hear whatever tidbit Jodie would have to offer ‘– he’s in black.’ Then Jodie was off in a twirl of fabric, heading towards the second room, hoping to find Lucas quickly and tell him that it was time to slip away. They’d already taken in the layout of the impressive estate, had made their way through each of the open rooms, and a few of the ones that weren’t meant for guests to enter. Now was the time to disappear, before anyone grew too interested in their whereabouts.
Later, much later, they’d be back.
They hurried out the door together, then picked up their car from the valet attendant. Jodie drove around one elegantly curving road to another. Parties such as this one always excited her, and she didn’t have to tell Lucas where they were headed. She simply sped the car to a deserted cul-de-sac several blocks away, parked between two street lamps, and unzipped the side of her red dress while he watched. Although her foreign convertible was small, it wasn’t too small for a quick one. Beneath the designer sheath, she had on nothing and, for a moment, her date simply stared at her nakedness, the way her skin seemed to take on a glow in the bright moonlight that shone down on them.
‘Let’s get out,’ she said, knowing that the suggestion would surprise him. Doing it in public was always a calculated risk, but this was a particularly well-patrolled area. It wasn’t the San Francisco police that they had to worry about. Rich people hired their own private services to make sure that no funny business went on in their high-end neighbourhoods. How long would the two of them have in peace before one of the bored rent-a-cops shone his light in their direction? Who could guess? That was the thrilling part.
When Lucas didn’t immediately get out of the car, Jodie taunted him. ‘Are you scared?’ she asked, making Lucas laugh and follow her on to the sidewalk. She was a little bit of a thing compared to him, yet she let him know that fear of being caught was the farthest thing from her mind.
Of course, that wasn’t exactly the truth. It was the potential of being caught that added to the thrill. Pushing boundaries. Flirting with danger. Adrenaline always fuelled Jodie’s passion. Now, she unzipped Lucas’s tuxedo slacks and withdrew his dick, sweetly fondling the head with the palm of her hand until she brought forth the welcoming signs of arousal. She used this most personal lubrication to firmly grip him while he stared down at her slim, nude body. Jodie had small but beautiful breasts. Her round, rose-coloured nipples were already hard from the chill in the air, and he reached down and lightly pinched one and then the other, making Jodie moan and close her eyes.
The sound of her pleasure, even at a low volume, was startling in the eerie quiet. A soft breeze rustled through the plentiful trees lining the street, and suddenly the two found themselves beneath a shower of pale pink cherry blossoms. Beneath that swirling, natural confetti, Lucas lifted Jodie up and brought her body down on his pulsing dick. He raised and lowered her hips on him, setting the pace.
Everything began to work together: the fragrance of the flower petals; the way Lucas moved her faster, then slower, as if they were still dancing together as they had on the black-and-white marbled floor at the party. Setting her gently against the hood of the car, he slid one hand between their two bodies, using his middle finger now to rub in circles over her clit as he continued to thrust inside her body. It turned her on when they came together, and Lucas knew how to make that happen. He filled her up with his throbbing cock, then tricked his finger and thumb over her button, bringing the two sensations together until she could take it no longer.
As she got closer, she hooked her dainty feet on the backs of his legs and firmly pushed her body upwards. She liked the feeling of taking her pleasure from that of her mate. Physically taking it.
‘Pretty baby,’ Lucas sighed, looking into her face.
Giving in, Jodie threw back her head and let herself reach the blissful outer limits, grinding her body against her partner’s and crying out into the night. If she’d known for a fact that someone aside from Lucas was watching her, she would have come even harder than she did. Because, deep down inside, Jodie Silver had always been a bad girl.
Nick was good at his job. He knew the methods of camouflage, and could blend in with the best of them. That chameleon-like ability was why he’d come to California in the first place, starting his journey down south in the smoggy haze of Los Angeles. He’d originally made the move from the midwest as an idealistic eighteen-year-old kid, thinking that he’d easily break into acting. Maybe he wouldn’t be a star right away, but he’d make it. Everyone had always told him he was a sure thing. With his casual good looks and his ability to mimic just about anyone, wasn’t he simply destined for the silver screen?
As it turned out, no. To his dismay, he’d discovered that there were a thousand Nick Hudsons already in Hollywood. And, unfortunately, he didn’t have as much motivation as the rest of them. Work his butt off at some audition so that some prissy casting director could snub him? Not his speed. Being repeatedly rejected made him want to punch someone in the face. He still had a file tucked away in some drawer with one cruel casting director’s comments sprawled across the back of his black-and-white headshot: ‘Handsome, in a cowboy sort of way. But nothing special.’ Now, there was someone who needed a serious thrashing.
When his initial plans hadn’t panned out for him, he’d bounced from job to job for several years. He’d bartended, dabbled in construction, did a little bit of stunt driving, which was fun except there was too much downtime between gigs. Although he was enjoying himself, he knew that from the outside his life looked like a failure. That is, until a friend had hired him to do a little snooping.
‘My wife’s having an affair,’ Tim had told him over cheap, warm beers at the Firefly Lounge. ‘I mean, I think she is. Fuck it, man. I don’t know what to think at this point –’
‘Why don’t you ask her?’ Nick suggested. He wasn’t married, and had never been able to keep himself interested in anything resembling a long-term relationship. To Nick, straight talking seemed the best way to get the information you wanted in this sort of situation. But maybe Tim didn’t really want to know the facts.
‘Just can’t. I mean, if I’m wrong, then she’ll think I don’t trust her.’
‘Which you don’t,’ Nick pointed out.
Tim shrugged. ‘If I’m right, she’s not going to tell me to my face, is she?’
Nick didn’t know the answer to that. He’d stared silently down into his beer, picturing Tim’s pretty wife, a woman who had a deep true laugh and an uncanny ability to know exactly when you needed another drink. Elaine was fun and friendly, liked to host cook-outs and always welcomed Tim’s buddies into their home. And she was cheating? Mentally, Nick thanked Christ that he wasn’t in a similar predicament. Imagine worrying about something like that and not having the balls to simply ask flat out what was going on. It wasn’t until Bailey that Nick could finally empathise.
Tim had continued, taking his silence for interest. ‘But what I was thinking,’ he started, ‘I mean, what I was hoping was that you might be able to find out for me. Follow her for a few days. Tell me where she goes. What she does when I’m not there. I know it sounds strange, but I’d feel better if I knew a friend was looking out for me, paying attention to my interests.’
Nick had felt dirty at first. Spying on his buddy’s wife seemed like a bad idea, any way you considered it. Even a looker like Tim’s wife. But he’d gotten past the dirty feeling by plunging himself into the role. Casting himself as a Bogey wannabe, he’d gone so far as to wear an old Fedora on his first hour or so on the job. That was something he’d given up right away. Nothing stood out more than a man in a silly hat. Still, he’d discovered that he liked the detective work. He was good at it. Not only blending in with a crowd, but searching out clues. Later on, he’d even mastered the art of interviewing people, finding puzzle pieces and putting them together. No one was more shocked than he was that the brainy part of the job was often the stuff he liked the best.
He’d learned an awful lot about Elaine in hardly any time at all. The red-headed bombshell had been cheating on her man quite openly with a neighbour from across the street. As soon as Tim had left for work, the neighbour had come over, and Elaine had been more than welcoming, pulling open her front door wearing nothing more than a skimpy little nightie. After a quick embrace, she’d led the lover down the plush peach-hued carpeting to the four-poster bed in the back. Nick had found this out by peering through the bedroom window. The only thing that had been unexpected was the fact that the lover was a woman.
What an amazing fucking sight that had been. The lush Elaine spreading her generous thighs for her petite, brunette neighbour. Together, the two women had slid themselves into positions that captivated Nick. Sweet sixty-nines. Straddling each other’s faces. Using strap-ons in ingenious ways. He’d watched for a hell of a lot longer than was actually necessary, unable to move from the spot by the parted lace curtains. To his surprise, he found that the women were more interesting than porn movies. Their moans sounded genuine, and their bodies were real. The neighbour’s pale skin was a bright beacon against Elaine’s tanned body. The two women’s interlocking curves were straight out of every man’s fantasy.
That first day, Nick had wound up staring until Elaine had come hard and loudly, thrusting against the mouth of her seductive plaything. He’d gone back for a few more days, not only to make sure that this wasn’t a one-time tryst, but because his dick had told him to get a few more of those sexy images in his memory banks.
Although he wouldn’t have thought it possible, his first job had actually wound up with a happy ending. Tim had been so turned on by the thought that his wife had a female lover that he’d convinced her to let him watch her with her lady friend. ‘It’s not her fault,’ he’d told Nick. ‘I work all the time. Wasn’t paying her the attention she needed, or deserved. She’s a sexy girl, Elaine is. She needs the release.’ Ultimately, the three had gotten it on together, and Nick had been given a two-hundred-dollar cheque for his troubles, as well as the bonus of a new daydream to fall back on during slow times.
But occasionally, Nick ran into a stickier situation. Like this new one with Max Sterling. His job was to get a good feel of what was going on behind the smoked glass door at 770 Chestnut. He didn’t know why the information was requested – rarely did he receive all of the facts in his business all at once – but he didn’t mind that. Since the initial phone conversation he’d only received email communications from his employer, as well as a wired transfer of an extremely generous retainer. He’d been given the freedom to find the facts in his own way, and he appreciated that.
Searching for knowledge was what he liked best. So far, he knew that the Import/Export business had to be a front for something. His gut told him that much. But he couldn’t figure out exactly what illegal behaviour, if any, was occurring. He also knew that the girl, Jodie Silver, was in on the scheme. She had to be. Working right close with Max for all these years, there was no way that she wasn’t involved.
Still, when he’d seen her in action this evening, it was difficult to believe she’d be into anything underhanded. Not someone as put-together as her. Beautiful, yes. But there was more to her aura of self-assuredness than her picture-perfect appearance. The glow in her eyes didn’t seem criminal, simply confident. Nick liked confident women. So he’d done the only thing he knew how. He’d watched her. Watched her at the party. Followed, as discreetly as possible, when she wandered into areas not specifically set up for the guests. It wasn’t anything that set up warning lights in his head. She was an appraiser. That’s the job title he’d discovered. She must have been interested in the varied art around the mansion.
After the party, she had screwed her date close by in the neighbourhood. Then the two of them had gone for a drive to a distant location, losing Nick on the curves of the windy San Francisco streets. Nick had done his best to track their route, but had eventually given up. The girl was good at a lot of different things, he’d learned. Running. Driving. And sparking his libido.
Back at home again, he consoled himself with the fact that at least now he had a brand-new fantasy to come to: a mental movie of Jodie and her man together. Jodie astride the lover and pushing herself to climax, as if needing to take charge of her own pleasure. Nick wasn’t impressed by the arm candy. Boys who looked like Jodie’s date literally filled the city, especially down by the Marina where her office was located. Strong sailor types, who tended to go along with the Barbie girls. He wouldn’t have thought that someone as interesting-looking as Jodie would fall for a Ken doll. But you never could guess what rocked someone’s world.
What rocked Nick’s was suspense. A sense of not knowing. The moment before he took a woman’s dress off to see what her body really looked like. Once he grew accustomed to a situation, it was difficult for him to stay interested. This he saw as his main flaw. He liked the excitement of the new. In fact, when he was really attracted to a woman, he waited as long as possible before bedding her, worried that he would lose interest as soon as he’d discovered her secrets. So far, that’s what had happened every time up to Bailey, and then she’d pulled that trick on him instead – losing interest before he had. Served him right, didn’t it?
He was tired of learning that people were generally the same, that they fitted into easily identifiable patterns. As soon as you got to know them, they fell into a routine, expecting things from him that he wasn’t interested in giving.
Jodie was unique, if he could believe what he had learned so far. She didn’t behave like the women he’d dated in the past. She was definitely running the show, which intrigued him. More interesting than that, she looked different every time he saw her. With her hair pulled back in a sophisticated upsweep, or down loose so that she looked like a co-ed, she was constantly shifting. He’d keep an eye on her. Yes, he was being paid to do so, but he thought that at this point he would have followed her anyway. Since the evening he’d watched her indulge in an outdoor spanking fest followed by the morning running side by side at the gym, he couldn’t get her out of his head.
Addicted. That’s what he was.
And it was a good feeling.
By two in the morning, the party had faded to a few straggling guests, talking loudly and drunkenly in the circular gravel driveway. Jodie and Lucas sat together in her convertible half a block away, waiting patiently, still glazed in their post-coital warmth. They shared sips of whisky from a silver flask, their fingers overlapping as they passed one of Jodie’s favourite possessions back and forth. It had been a gift from a silent screen star to her faithful driver, and Jodie loved the fact that Hollywood royalty had once fingered the muted silver. She liked to think that the driver might have been more than simply a wizard behind the wheel. What exactly were the services he’d rendered to be rewarded with such a handsome prize?
