Thigh High

by Edwards, Bonnie

  Hard as she tried and feeling more miserable than a dog pound executioner, she couldn’t figure out a way to broach the subject of cutting Daniel’s doggy pal open. It wouldn’t have to be a big cut, she reasoned, just from the bottom of his ribs to his little useless peter. The thong had to be wedged in there somewhere, just waiting to pass on through.

  A creature with more legs than she cared to think about crawled through her hair, but she didn’t even flinch this time.

  She’d never felt so dirty. But she refused to let some dirt get between her and finding the treasure. Besides, real dirt in the great outdoors was healthier than digging through, say, a dumpster in an alley.

  Admitting that, yes, she’d even dumpster dive to get the thong back, she returned to her search. She felt around for some freshly dug earth, but everywhere she put her hand felt compacted under the spiky, dry pine needles.

  She could go back to the yacht to get a flashlight, but she didn’t feel like explaining her midnight treasure hunt to the weirdos hanging around. The types of people who inhabited the park at this time of night weren’t to be trusted with a dollar, never mind a thong studded with diamonds.

  Which brought her back to the DJ and his dog. A dog’s belly was no place for diamonds that could cut. It would be a kindness to operate. Surely Daniel would see that and agree. He struck her as a reasonable man. She’d pay for the whole thing, of course.

  Maybe if she grabbed the dog off the deck of the houseboat she could dognap him and take him to an emergency vet clinic. At least for an X-ray. She felt better immediately. Yes, an X-ray would be the best option.

  Her panic had discombobulated her to the point of forgetting that X-rays existed.

  She could trust a vet with diamonds. They probably swore some kind of oath or something. Like doctors. If they did have to operate, maybe she could be in the room to get the thong when they retrieved it.

  Her hands were scraped, and one finger still bled from a sharp piece of glass she’d tossed to the side. Her numb, dirt-encrusted knees protested as she patted the ground around her. She’d had it up to here with kneeling and crawling through and around trees.

  Nerves skittered along her spine. The park was much quieter now than when she’d begun her search. When she’d first arrived the place had been full of normal folk out with their dogs, or biking and inline skating along the waterfront path, but now it was a different story. Daniel had been right. The oceanfront pathway was a haven for walkers and joggers who made the most of the evening.

  But after eleven, even the stalwarts had disappeared into the trendy James Bay neighborhood and expensive condo buildings that lined the inner harbor.

  Ten minutes ago a young couple disappeared under the tree next to her. The moaning and rustling had begun almost immediately. She was tired of waiting for them to finish. Polite was polite, but she was antsy to get back to the marina to get the dog.

  She listened hard and heard some definite panting coming from under the huge tree. The idea of digging around under there when they were finished grossed her out. What if she squished a condom in the dark?

  The sex-generated moans were kind of a turn-on, though, so she settled in with her back to the tree trunk and waited. The sounds of lovemaking arrowed to her pussy and made her wet as the couple got further into each other, letting the real world fall away.

  She’d had that kind of heat once. Hot loving that filled her world. As Blaine had filled her body, he’d taken her heart, her soul. She blew out a frustrated breath and set thoughts of Blaine aside. He was gone and good riddance.

  But man, could he turn her on.

  Of course he could, she reasoned. With his smouldering good looks he’d been able to practice with every other woman he could find. His bad-boy attitude meant he found plenty.

  “Oh baby, yeah, do that. Suck it, suck it good.”

  Since it was the man’s voice, Frankie was able to visualize what the woman was sucking. She sighed.

  She missed sex. She liked sex. She wanted sex.

  She’d left home suddenly and hadn’t packed her vibrator. It was still in her nightstand in her abandoned apartment.

  Which was probably rented out months ago. Her furniture would’ve been sold. She hadn’t thought of clearing out the place, just got her ass out of there. She’d grabbed Fiona and run, scattering her family like petals on a breeze.

  She’d gather them again someday. For now, she snorted, thinking of someone getting a deal on her old bedroom furniture and finding her underused battery-powered joy machine.

  Ah, yes, the weight of a lover on her chest, the push–pull of a hard pair of hips fused to hers. She wanted it again.

  She wanted it now. The rustling under the next tree continued, the voices low and crooning.

  Sweat trickled down her neck into her bikini top. She swiped at the moisture, sure she left a dark smudge across her chest.

  “Oh yes!” the young woman squealed. “This feels so good…and you’re sooooo bad….” Her voice heaved with each breath, giving it that breathy quality that said she was ready. Frankie remembered saying much the same thing in much the same way.

  From the sudden silence, she guessed the bad boy had found his mark and slid home. Was that the delicious sound of skin slapping skin?

  Enough! She couldn’t bear to hear any more, especially when her hands were too filthy to use on herself and her vibrator was long gone. Frankie rolled to her knees and crept as quickly and as silently as she could around the far side of her tree. The other couple, wrapped up in each other, would never hear her.

  Pathetic, that’s what she was, listening to other people making love. She wasn’t sure when she’d become too uptight to look for some action, but she had. Her pitiful vigil under the tree proved it.

  That damn Barkley had a lot to answer for.

  Scraped knees, a cut finger and a throbbing need all lay at the feet of that perverted little beast.

  She could make the dog’s owner take care of some of these problems. The very scrumptious Daniel the DJ. The way his on-air voice wove through her into her deepest fantasies proved he knew his way around a woman’s body. She could ask him to kiss her scraped knees, bandage her finger and take care of her deep-down throb as soon as he got home.

  After all, she’d gotten off on just his voice a time or two.

  A night with the appealing DJ might be just what she needed to calm her jitters after six months of crazy. His voice alone took her deeper into her sexual fantasies than her vibrator ever had. If his voice was that good, imagine how good his hands and mouth would be.

  “OH! BABY!!!” One last squeal of rapacious delight caught her ears as she hurried down the path toward the lights of the marina.

  Daniel put on Etta James’s newest and got back to his daydream about Frankie Volpe. She was hotter up close than he’d thought. He’d watched her for the last two weeks and wondered why she was alone on such a big yacht. Boats that size tended to require crew, but he hadn’t seen anyone else onboard.

  No one else in the marina had seen anyone else either. The Boondoggle had been a matter of a lot of discussion on the houseboat side of the marina. All anyone knew was that the boat had docked in the middle of the night amid a shroud of secrecy and a fog of misinformation.

  If the harbor master knew anything about the owners of the yacht, he wasn’t saying.

  All Daniel had been able to do was stare hard at the redheaded powerhouse from afar. Up close, Frankie was enough to make a man weep.

  Her eyes raked a man bare. Her tongue, sharp edged and quick, could flay a man wide open. But all that served to do was make him want more of her. All of her.

  He liked spitfires. And he’d bet Frankie Volpe could spit more fire than any other woman he’d ever met.

  She’d been pretty upset about that thong Barkley had taken. When he got home, he would take a run through the park to see if she was still there. Not likely though. No sane woman would wander a dark park at this time of night no ma
tter what neighborhoods she’d survived.

  He doubted she would ever find the thong. Barkley must have the instincts of a politician for burying dirty laundry, because Daniel had never found anything he’d taken. The mutt had to have found the perfect hiding place for his secret stash of underwear. Like a pervert who collected panties off clotheslines, he was determined to get away with it for as long as possible.

  If Barkley had actually eaten the thing he’d have to get him X-rayed. Rhinestones were sharp.

  But the mutt hadn’t eaten Bitsy’s underwear, only stolen them, so it wasn’t likely he’d eat Frankie’s.

  Etta’s song ended on a mournful wail, and he went back to his microphone.

  “Twinkle twinkle little thong, how I wonder where you belong,” he said, “wish I may, wish I might, see you twinkle in the moonlight,” he added as an afterthought. He chuckled low and intimately with the hope Frankie was tuned in.

  Fire crackled under his skin at the idea of seeing her in a sparkly velvet thong, her ass cheeks high and round, divided by a silky black line that traced her from back to front.

  At least now he could strike up a conversation whenever she was on the float. His schedule was so different from most people’s that he hadn’t found a convenient time to talk to her before. Either he was on the way to work while she was returning home or she was long gone when he woke up. His morning was afternoon for most people.

  But timing wasn’t an issue with Frankie. She knew his crazy shifts and would expect him to be on an odd schedule. He couldn’t wait for his shift to end. If he could get her past the thong mishap, he might have a chance with her.

  “Twinkle twinkle little thong, how I wonder where you belong,” Daniel said in a croony bluesy voice that tracked heat from her heart to her deepest belly. The man had a voice that stroked through to her vitals. The in-joke about her missing thong made her smile.

  “Wish I may, wish I might, see you twinkle in the moonlight.” She laughed out loud at that one. The man was funny and hot—a potent combination. She hoped he was visualizing her in a sexy scrap of black velvet, because she’d love to show him the real thing.

  She opened her laptop and searched for the radio station’s phone number. Eventually she found her way through the automated answering system to the booth and talked to a person who identified himself as Daniel’s producer. He told her to turn her radio volume down, then put her on hold while she waited until the next song ended.

  Thirty seconds later Daniel answered.

  “Hi! It’s Frankie.” The shower she’d taken had cooled her, but now she was hot all over again.

  “Any luck with your thong?” His voice warmed to molten lava. And she heard “I want you” under the words. She shivered with anticipation.

  “No. And I’m afraid I have to ask you to help me round up your doggy pal so we can get him X-rayed.”

  “I thought of that myself, although he usually doesn’t eat the underwear he steals. If he does, I’ve never seen it come out again.” He chuckled. “I’m wincing because that didn’t sound right. Not the kind of conversation I usually have with a woman I want to impress.”

  “You want to impress me?” She grinned and let the smile show in her voice. Flirting was such fun. The spice of middle-of-the-night phone flirting added to the days of eye contact.

  “Hell, yes, I want to impress you. As long as you’re free to be impressed.”

  “I’m free. You?”

  “As a bird.”

  With those important preliminaries out of the way, she tucked the phone close to her chin. “I like your voice. That impresses me. I love the music you play. That impresses me.” As did his shoulders, his caramel-colored eyes and the shock of sun-tipped hair that fell over his forehead. His pecs, his arms, the lazy but focused way he watched her whenever she walked up the ramp.

  He must think she didn’t see the way he tipped the brim of his ball cap up to watch her. It was subtle, that tip, but since she’d become aware of him, she’d caught it every time.

  “I’ll be off soon; do you think you could round up Barkley and bring him to the station? I can call a vet clinic from here.”

  “Will he be inside or on the deck?”

  “He’s got a dog house on deck. Should be there.”

  He hung up suddenly, but no sooner had he disconnected than she heard his voice, sultry and warm, on the radio again. She turned the volume back up and smiled as he joked about the thong one more time.

  This time he made it sound like a shoe rather than a panty.

  She put a call in to Fiona and left a message for her not to expect the thong for a while. Her sister had protested long and hard about going to a remote wilderness camp for a honeymoon. But Bernie, her longtime fiancé, had perked right up at Frankie’s suggestion. Raised in the city, Bernie had wilderness fascination big time.

  Next up on the honeymoon whirlwind was a safari in Kenya. Anything to keep her sister out of the limelight. With Bernie on her side for a change, Frankie felt confident they could keep their whereabouts a secret for at least another month. She hoped so. Being on the run sucked the big one.

  Having connected with Daniel, she looked forward to spending more time here. Victoria had a lot going for it. The city was small, clean, beautiful and out of the way for her. No one would think to look for her here.

  Daniel’s voice seduced her as she dressed quickly. It was clear the man loved what he was doing. The blues called to him, in spite of his sense of humor. He loved the music, loved the intimate format of his show. Yes, he seduced and cajoled and turned her mind to the wild thing. But while she dithered in front of her closet, dreaming about the man behind the voice, his dog may be suffering.

  What did a woman who wanted to impress a man wear to a middle-of-the-night run to an emergency vet clinic?

  The man in question had definitely noticed her chest earlier, so she pulled on a fresh pair of shorts. Keep it simple, girl.

  3

  Daniel sat beside her in the waiting room with Barkley on his lap. They were surrounded by dismal-faced, tired people whose pets were suffering real emergencies. But if Barkley was trying to pass diamonds through his system, it could soon be a matter of life and death.

  “He seems fine, don’t you think?” she said for what must have been the hundredth time. But they’d both been saying the same thing since she’d arrived at the station with the dog.

  Daniel nodded. “Perky as usual. I think we’re on a wild good chase here. If he had a gutload of rhinestones, I think he’d be miserable by now.”

  She petted the dog’s head and gave him a good scratch behind the ears, torn up by the prospect of Fiona’s thong causing Barkley distress.

  The doctor arrived and they stood. She clasped Daniel’s forearm and gave it a squeeze in support. The doctor smiled. “No foreign objects show up. Whatever he did with your thong, miss, he didn’t eat it.”

  Relief washed over Daniel’s face, and he gave the dog an affectionate buss on the head. “Thanks, Doctor. That’s a relief.”

  A couple of people in the waiting room brightened at the good news and gave their congratulations. Frankie’s worry meter rose a notch.

  She looked at Daniel, busy petting Barkley’s head. “Where could he have put it then? I searched under every big tree I could fit under.” Except for the love nest. Her cheeks warmed.

  The memory of the amorous couple heated her through.

  The doctor moved on to his next patient.

  “You need to think back about how long he was out of your sight,” Daniel said. “How far into the park could he have run and still buried it so completely that you couldn’t find it?”

  “Good point. It was only a minute or so, maybe two. There’s no way he could have run as far as I went. It must be closer to the top of the ramp.” She hadn’t thought to check the water. He might have dropped it into the harbor. “I didn’t see him drop it into the water, but he might have.”

  Daniel walked to the desk with his
wallet open, but she insisted on paying the bill for the X-ray.

  “No, Frankie, I should have had Barkley under better control. It’s just that everyone knows him. He was left behind last year, and we all fed him until he settled in with me.”

  “I shouldn’t have allowed him on the yacht in the first place. He thought he was welcome to make himself at home.” And she was the one who’d got bent out of shape about getting the thong back. “So, we’ll split the bill,” she said, handing off the cash.

  She regretted that she couldn’t tell Daniel the truth. But, really, a diamond-studded thong? She still rolled her eyes at Fiona’s indulgence. Her sister was the one who needed to be leashed.

  Maybe Frankie could find one of those electric collars and put it on her sister’s neck. It could give her a jolt anytime she got within fifty feet of a jewelry store.

  “Let’s go home, buddy,” Daniel said, setting Barkley down.

  He reached for Frankie’s hand and she slid her palm into his larger one. Slow heat and heavy desire sparked awareness between them. His eyes warmed with promise when she caught his eye.

  Barkley danced at Daniel’s knee until they exited the clinic. He watered three bushes on the way to the car. Daniel chuckled. “Yes, he’s definitely behaving normally.”

  His hand felt large compared to hers. Strong and surprisingly calloused. “Callouses?” She tugged on his hand and inspected his palm in a pool of light from the clinic’s window.

  “Yes, I do a few repairs on the boats and float homes. Not everyone’s still capable.”

  She’d noticed some older retirees on the houseboat side. “That’s sweet.” Sexy, funny and generous with his time. Oh boy, she could be in trouble here. “You call them float homes not houseboats?” Another term she’d need to learn.

  “That’s right, they float on tons of hollow concrete. That’s why they’re as stable as they are.”