The Darkness of Sable
Page 17
“I don’t—”
He held up a hand. “No, Sable, don’t give me a hollow excuse. You’ve been acting odd since we arrived in Naples. Normally I don’t question you about much. Your expressions can usually tell me all I need to know.”
She groaned and turned away.
Chuckling, he continued. “Well, you know it as well as I do. However, I understand your need for independence and privacy, but I’ve noticed you acting strangely, and it’s getting worse. So, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
How could she tell him the truth? She faced Thomas again, loosely clasping her robe’s untied sash. The truth dangled on the tip of her tongue. Would he believe her if she spilled everything? No, I can’t take that chance. She didn’t care what people thought of her, but if Thomas believed she was crazy, she couldn’t handle that.
“I…I’m just not myself, Thomas, that’s all.”
He snorted and picked up her purse. “What happened, Sable? Did it something happen in the ladies’ room earlier?”
She remained silent.
“Well?” he pressed, his gaze boring into her thin façade.
“No, nothing happened in the powder room.”
“Then what?” His expression grew more skeptical by the second. “It’s not every day a manager puts a big tab on the house.”
“I saw a rat in the restroom. I hit it several times with my purse.” It wasn’t a lie, really. She squirmed under his scrutiny.
Thomas tossed the purse back onto the bed. “A rat?”
She nodded.
“Well, I guess that explains the reason we didn’t pay for our meal, but it doesn’t explain why you’ve been so on edge.”
“It’s just that I’m this close”—she held her thumb and index finger up, as if squeezing an inch of air between them—“to finding Cheyenne, and now that I have to deal with Hal, it’s just a bit more than I can handle.”
Thomas regarded her for several moments. His dark, piercing gaze unnerved Sable She restrained herself from wriggling with discomfort.
He shook his head and strode toward her. “I don’t know, Sable. I just have this feeling that something’s not right.”
“Thomas, any time Hal is involved in my life, nothing is right.”
He laughed softly, the sound warming her from head to toe. “Yeah, I guess you have a point there. I just worry about you. I want my baby girl happy and healthy with as little stress as possible.”
“Your baby girl?” She gaped at him. The possessive title thrilled her to the core, curled her toes, and showered her body with heat.
However, a pained expression flashed through his eyes, instantly cooling her enthusiasm.
She offered him a wan smile. Maybe the use of ‘my baby girl’ was merely a slipup. After all, he’d called her baby girl many times and she’d never thought anything of it, but this time it seemed so much more. This time she was his baby girl.
Maybe it’s because I want it to be more. The thought startled her. Did she want more from Thomas?
Thomas stopped in front of her. “Well, I do worry about you. We started out as business partners, and it turned into a wonderful friendship. I’m sure you worry about me, too, don’t you?”
Disappointment stabbed Sable right through the heart. She gulped and met his eyes. A wonderful friendship? So, that’s it. We’re friends and our kiss meant nothing to him.
However, the expression on his face changed to one of intrigue, and something danced in the dark depths of Thomas’s gaze. A soft light shimmered there, a radiance that seemed more than…no, they were merely friends. He’d said so himself.
Sable tried to quell the harshness of reality. The sudden disappointment at the word ‘friends’ shredded her resolve, and the stress of the day rocketed the feeling right along to Bluesville. Taking a step away from him, she turned her attention to the mini bar. It was late, and a nightcap seemed like a good way to soothe her heart and dull the unexpected pain that had skewered her chest.
Her foot tangled in the tie of her robe, which jerked her dressing gown to the right of her body, tugging her forward. Sable threw her other foot out to steady herself but stepped in the loop that had formed in the sash. With a cry, she pitched forward, but strong arms encircled Sable, and she discovered herself firmly in Thomas’s embrace, her face pressed to his shoulder, body tight to his.
Sable pushed away slightly, her gaze meeting his smoldering one. A hot ember of desire flared deep inside her. A suggestive smile cavorted at the corners of Thomas’s full-lipped mouth. An image flashed through her mind of him straining against her body, sweat coating his skin and beading in his intricate cornrows, the scent of sex heavy in the air.
“I don’t care what they say,” he whispered so low she almost didn’t hear him. He pulled her tighter still and laced his fingers at the small of her back.
Curious, she asked, “What who says?”
Another pained expression moved over his features, but this time it vanished as quickly as it has appeared. “People, the media,” he replied.
Need swirled in his eyes, and Sable’s breath caught. Slowly, she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. He played hell on her senses, her loins throbbing in response to his spicy cologne and the warmth emanating from his body.
Why does his cologne smell so familiar?
Thomas captured her mouth, silencing her surprised gasp and all rational thought. His tongue tickled the seam of her lips. She opened them to him, and their tongues dueled in a primeval rhythm. She sighed contentedly, the taste of him pure maleness with a hint of cappuccino. He molded her body to his hard planes, sliding his hands around her waist to cup her ass, fingers kneading, his desire for her evident by the hardness poking at her belly.
Thomas’s mouth grew more insistent, demanding. He broke the kiss, but instead of pulling away, he moved his lips to the curve of her jaw and down to her neck, each touch electrifying her skin.
“T-Thomas,” she moaned as his teeth nipped at the tender place just below her earlobe. She sucked in a delighted breath.
He nuzzled her neck. “Damn, you feel good in my arms—too good.”
Gooseflesh rippled across Sable’s body. The sensations Thomas evoked in her rendered her helpless and almost paralyzed her mind. Should friends kiss as though it was the last kiss before the world ended?
Sable didn’t care. She wanted more of Thomas, desired his mouth upon her body, his skin pressed to hers. Tingling erupted in her lower abdomen, and warmth swept into her crotch. She snuggled closer to him, kissing him back with total abandon.
He uttered a surprised sound but turned with her still in his arms and moved with her toward the sofa. The back of her knees met the cushions, and Sable sat, pulling him with her to recline across them.
“Sable,” he breathed against her throat. He pushed her robe aside and palmed one of her breasts through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
Fire raced across Sable’s torso, spread into her belly, and then into her pelvis. She arched, needing more contact with him.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed, tugging his head to her chest.
He slipped the gown’s strap over her shoulder, exposing her breast, and laved his tongue over the nipple.
“Oh!” Sable grasped his head tighter, his cornrows rough on her palms.
Moving his hand over the curves and planes of her body, Thomas found the hem of her garment and drew it upward to slide his hand beneath it. He cupped her crotch, his palm hot.
Sable sucked air through her teeth as lightning bolts of need pierced her. He stroked her through the satiny material of her panties, each touch pure ecstasy that rocketed intense sensation to her core. She whimpered, wanting more, and raised her hips.
“Baby girl,” he murmured, “if we don’t stop now, I’m going to make love to you.”
His words barely penetrated her brain.
Thomas tugged the crotch of her panties aside and slipped a finger into her, pumping it gently.
&
nbsp; “Oh my…” Sable ground against his hand, strove for the orgasm building inside her, but just as she reached for it, a jingling sound startled her.
Thomas jerked his head up.
“What…?” She blinked and met his eyes, the sexual haze evaporating from her mind.
Quickly, Thomas withdrew his hand, slid to the floor on his knees, and covered her exposed body with her robe.
The jingling persisted.
“I-I think that’s your cell.” Thomas got to his feet. He cleared his throat and adjusted the front of his slacks. “Damn, damn, and triple damn,” he muttered, walking across the suite. “Sable, I have some phone calls to make before it gets much later and I need to check email from clients, so what do you say we meet back here in a couple of hours for that nightcap?”
“Th-that’s fine,” Sable replied. She struggled to her feet. Desire still peppered her body, her pussy throbbing with need. Trying to get a grip on herself, she went in search of her phone in her tattered clutch on the bed.
“Good.” The door to his room opened then shut.
At the firm thud, Sable turned to stare at the closed door. Her heart howled with dismay and discontent. Is he angry with me? I thought he wanted me as much as I want him, but he…
In her purse, the persistent tones of her iPhone continued.
Sable groaned with annoyance. Her annoyance transformed into hostility. I can’t deal with Hal right now. She dug into the clutch, found the phone, and looked at the number. Frowning, she didn’t recognize it.
“Hello?” she said.
“Sable, this is Rick.”
“Oh. Hi.” Unease clambered through her. He’d had her cell number from when she’d filled out her accident report, but why would he call her at such an hour?
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said.
A curious note in his voice reawakened Sable’s libido. She squirmed at the memories of Rick’s kisses and caresses while others had watched.
“I can’t seem to get you off my mind,” he continued.
“Oh?” She fought to sound calm. Thomas had pushed her to the brink of an orgasm, and now that her body was left unsatisfied, Rick’s voice seemed to shove her to that edge again. “You…” She gulped. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough about you to be very intrigued,” he continued, his voice sending waves of eroticism coursing over her body. “Why did you leave the nightclub in The Golden’s limo? I could’ve driven you back to your hotel.”
“The whole sex-bar scene was a bit much for me,” she admitted breathlessly. Her heart rate jumped a couple of notches. “I’ve never been to that kind of nightclub before.”
His laughter coaxed her lust higher. How was it possible that Rick affected her this way? A wave of guilt nearly knocked her back onto the bed. She’d almost let Thomas make love to her, and now she wanted the officer. What the hell was wrong with her?
“There’s just something about you,” he said. “I have to see you again.”
“I don’t know…” The throbbing in her pussy grew more intense.
“How about meeting me at The Threshold in an hour? I’ll buy you a few drinks, and we can just sit and talk, get to know one another.”
“I don’t have time for a relationship, Rick, nor do I want one.” She wiggled on the bed, but the contact of the cover against her ass only heightened her arousal. She stood and paced. “I’m flying back to New York City soon.”
“Oh, come on. What will a few drinks and some invigorating conversation hurt?”
She paused, her mouth open to reply, the polite words of decline dangling on her tongue. It would give me an opportunity to investigate the club again, see if it’s really there or if its disappearance is all in my mind.
“Please?” Rick urged. “You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” Shuffling noises filled the connection. “Okay, I’m begging. I’m down on not one knee, but both of them.”
Laughter bubbled out of her. “Okay, okay,” she said. Desire resided in her voice, shaming her. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Fantastic,” he said. “I’ll have a seat waiting for you at the bar.”
“See you then.” She tossed her cell on the bed. If she was really lucky, maybe Goldie would be meeting her contacts at the club, too.
She pulled her long locks into a ponytail high on the top of her head and plaited it. Looping the braid, she secured the end of it to the elastic holding her hair so the plait hung in a long noose to her rear. A pair of dark designer jeans hugged her slim hips and legs, and a lightweight, short-sleeved, sparkly blue sweater with a scooped neckline snuggled her breasts and waist. She slipped on her favorite leather loafers and touched up her makeup. A quick spritz of White Shoulders clung to her clothing and hair.
Satisfied, Sable slipped her ID, her keycard, and a debit as well as a credit card into a front pants pocket. She rapped lightly on Thomas’s door and poked her head into his suite. He wasn’t at the desk, nor did he pace the floor while talking on the phone as was his habit. She wandered in, her gaze touching on this and that.
Maybe he stepped out for some fresh air.
Her attention fell upon his suit jacket tossed across the bed. If she and Thomas made love, would it ruin their friendship? Could she sacrifice it for one night of ecstasy in his arms?
Turning, she tiptoed out of Thomas’s room and quietly shut the door behind her.
In her suite, she scribbled a quick note that she’d gone out for a few hours to chase a lead on Cheyenne and left it on the bed. She put a clip cover over her cell phone, fastened it to her front pocket, and then called downstairs to have her limo ready. By the time she reached the carport, a long black car waited, and a chauffeur helped her into the back seat.
What if Goldie was at The Threshold? Would Goldie be upset with her for not heeding her warning? Sable comforted herself with the idea that she had no way of knowing that Goldie was meeting anyone there, and if she was, then she could feign innocence. After all, Sable could only assume the meeting would take place there.
I shouldn’t see Rick. What if he wants more from me? Something I’m not willing to give? A few drinks and casual conversation wouldn’t hurt…would it? Rick said that’s all he wanted. Oh, who am I kidding? She sighed, pondering the notion. Her feelings for Rick were purely carnal, but with Thomas she felt—what did she feel for him? She scowled, unable to identify it.
An image of the lounge littered with mattresses and beds, people moaning and bodies straining flashed through Sable’s mind. Heat pooled in her belly. Sable shook the memories away. I may be losing my mind, but going back to that place might just prove I’m insane.
Darkness settled over the ocean and crept into the city streets. Fingers of red, gold, and orange bled from the horizon and throughout the sky. Cars turned on their headlights. At a stoplight, a sports car pulled up next to the limo, its purple ground effect lights spilling violet illumination across the asphalt. The ethereal hue backwashed the limousine’s windows.
What if I get to The Threshold and the lounge isn’t there? How will I find it? Despite the fact that a storage warehouse had been in the club’s place today, somehow Sable sensed the nightclub would be there now. A mystical bar that only appeared after dark? A soft giggle passed her lips. Now I am thinking insane thoughts.
Minutes later, the driver maneuvered the car up to the curb. The divider window rolled down.
“Ma’am?” the chauffeur called. “Are you sure this is the correct address? This looks like a bad part of town for a lady to go.”
Sable glanced around. There, across the street, was the same vacant parking lot. A Corvette turned into it, and a couple got out. The man pointed something at it, and the lights flashed twice. Arm in arm with his lady companion, he escorted her across the street to the corner and up the sidewalk to a staircase leading down. On the wall at the top of the stairs, something glowed and glittered. Sable smiled. There was the odd symbol of the figure eight and the lily.
The car slowly pulled away and parked in the lot.
She stood on the sidewalk, watching, listening. She caught the faint boom of bass from The Threshold, the sound vibrating the air. The last purple traces of the sunset faded from the sky. Stars winked feebly as they awaited true darkness. A brisk wind swept directly inland from the Gulf of Mexico, the aroma of seawater and fish almost overwhelming.
Up the street, a car horn blared, and another higher, shorter blast answered. Laughter drifted to Sable. She looked down the opposite end of the avenue. Several couples dressed for a Friday night out strolled steadily her way.
With her senses attuned to everything around her, Sable walked toward the dark stairwell that led to the bar. At the curb, the neon pink and bright orange trashcan overflowed with garbage. Once again, a bag lady sorted through it. The old woman found aluminum cans and tossed them into her shopping cart waiting next to her on the walk.
“Excuse me,” Sable said. “Are you the same woman who…?”
The woman turned to her, but Sable quickly realized she wasn’t the squatter who had begged for change.
“Eh?” the woman said in a scratchy voice. “Whaddya want?” She appeared to be about fifty, her face scarred, and one eye covered in a cloudy film.
“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” Sable moved hastily away.
She paused at the symbol stenciled on the brick wall and smoothed her hand over it. It seemed permanent. No paint, color, or glitter came away on her palm or fingertips. Did the emblem only show up at night? Was it some strange, new paint? Maybe she had been confused about the bar’s location? She observed the vacant lot and her waiting limo. No, this was definitely the correct building.
She did a double take. In the bushes that divided the parking lot and the opposite sidewalk sat the shaggy black dog. It watched her silently, its eyes aglow.