by Lisa G Riley
“Yeah. You know, I’d gotten used to having him around. I really am going to miss seeing him.”
“I’ll miss him too. But I won’t miss not having any privacy and not being free to make love to my prudish fiancée anytime I want to.”
“Whatever, and I’m not a prude. I’ve done stuff that you wouldn’t even think of doing.”
Sloan scoffed and turned into the parking lot of a roadside diner. “When and where?”
“How soon we forget. What about the movie theater?” She took off her seat belt and opened her door.
Sloan waited until he was out of the car and locking it before he answered her. “That was a fluke. And just for the record, there’s nothing you could think of that I haven’t thought of at least a hundred times already—hell, that most men haven’t already thought of.”
Kendra’s snort said that he was full of it. “Oh really?” she asked as she walked through the door he held open for her.
“Really.”
“Just sit anywhere.”
They looked over to see a waitress waving toward the dining area, which was sparse with diners. They found an empty booth and sat.
“Now, getting back to what I was saying,” Sloan began as he picked up the menu, “most men are always thinking of when, where, and how we can have sex. It’s just the nature of the beast. If a woman were to say to a man, ‘Sweetie, I think I’d like to have sex in the middle of Times Square today,’ the first thought that would come to his mind is: ‘hallelujah, she’s read my mind!’”
Kendra’s laughter came from behind her menu. “Pig!”
“That may be, but I’m telling you the truth—”
The waitress came over bearing glasses of water. After they’d placed their orders and she’d left, Sloan picked up where he’d left off. “Very few women think like that.”
Kendra snorted. “I’d wager there aren’t that many men who think that way either.”
“You’d lose. Let me give you an example. A couple of months ago we were at the mall and you were trying on a pair of red shoes with these skinny, pointy heels. Remember?”
Kendra nodded.
“You were playing around and teasing me, saying you’d never buy the shoes, but wouldn’t they be fun for a costume party. Well, at one point, you’d stuck your leg out at me and turned your ankle just so. You’d looked up at me, and your eyes were laughing and your hair was sliding down your back, and all I wanted to do was take you against the wall—hard and fast. You were aware of it too, because you sort of froze and just looked at me.”
Kendra remembered exactly what he was talking about. The air had been so suddenly charged with his lust that her nipples had actually puckered. “I remember,” she whispered.
“Then the salesgirl came, and everything went back to normal.” Sloan leaned in urgently. “But you wanted it just as much as I did,” he whispered hotly. “If I had grabbed you and rushed you off to some secluded corner, in no time flat I could have had your panties down and your legs wrapped around my waist while I pushed my dick into that streaming-wet pussy of yours. You were so wet for me that I would have slid in easily. You were hot for it.”
Her breath came choppy and fast, and Kendra squeezed her legs together under the table, trying to stem the hot rush of cream his words caused. She looked at him, knowing he was right. She wouldn’t have let him take her against the wall, but she would have really wanted him to. She sighed, amazed at how just a few words from him had her practically dripping through her clothing. Her panties were definitely hot and damp.
Sloan leaned back and drank from his glass. “Anyway, I was still thinking about doing just that after the salesgirl left, but I could tell that the interruption had broken the spell for you, so I didn’t bother suggesting it.”
Kendra tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but couldn’t. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said as she tossed her napkin down. “I have to visit the ladies’ room.”
Sloan looked at her and grinned.
Kendra bared her teeth at him. “Ass,” she said and rose from the table.
His laughter followed her all the way into the bathroom.
He was still smiling when she came back a short time later. “Well?” he asked when she sat down.
“Well, what?”
“Did you make it all better? You should have asked me. I’d have followed you in and satisfied that little honey pot for you. Gladly.”
Kendra stared at him with her mouth open. “I didn’t—You think I—In a public bathroom—” She clamped her lips shut for a moment and tried again. “I went in to clean myself, Sloan!” she whispered. She didn’t admit that touching the sensitized flesh between her legs even gently had made her bite back a moan. All she’d have needed to do was think of him and she’d have been fingering herself to completion in the stall. So she’d blocked him from her mind.
“Well, don’t sound so shocked. Letting me have my way with you in a public bathroom would be exciting as hell, sweetheart. Think about it,” he began in a low voice. “You get up first and walk into the ladies’ room, looking over your shoulder the whole time to make sure no one is following you. I follow you a few minutes later, already hard as a rock from the excitement.
“Once inside the bathroom, I would strip you out of those jeans and panties in two seconds—because remember, someone could try to come in at any time; that’s what makes it even more exciting—and then I’d push you back against the door, where you’d spread those beautiful thighs of yours nice and wide for me. And you know me, I’d just have to have a little taste, so I’d get down on my knees, inhale that scent of yours for a second, and then I’d fuck you with my tongue for just a little while. Until I’d coaxed just enough of your delicious cream out to coat my tongue and slide down my throat.
“And I can just see you. You’d have your hand stuffed in your mouth to fight back the moans, while your neck arched and your head hit the door. At this point at least one of your legs would be wrapped around my neck while I worked two fingers, maybe three, inside your honey pot until you were coming so hard that my entire face would be covered in your juice.”
Kendra was mesmerized by his seductive voice and silky words. She couldn’t move as she stared at him, her legs automatically opening wide as she imagined him doing exactly what he was describing.
Sloan continued, “While you’re still coming, I’d raise up and just plunge in, until you felt me knocking at your womb. You’d scream again, my total possession taking you over the edge, and I’d feed you a taste of yourself from my tongue while I rammed you back against the door until I was exploding inside you and you were erupting all around me, your juices gushing out to seep all over my dick.” Finally finished, Sloan picked up his glass and took a drink.
Kendra drained her glass. She looked at him as she rose, watching as he pulled money from his wallet and put it on the table. She smiled. It was handy having a man who knew exactly what she was thinking. “There’s a hotel up the street,” she said and headed for the door.
Sloan followed her out.
Chapter Seventeen
Sloan frowned as he listened to what he was being told via cell phone. “No, you listen to me, Vernita,” he interrupted his friend at the state’s attorney’s office. “I told you I only suspect who it is. I don’t actually know. This is only a gut feeling—”
“What about your client? I can’t believe you’ve only heard from her once.”
“Well, believe it. Mrs. Patterson is away on an extended cruise. Besides, I told you what she said.” Sloan ran fingers through his hair impatiently. “I know you’re doing me a huge favor by holding off, and I’m really grateful.”
“Yeah,” she said with her trademark sarcasm. “It’s so big, it’s Dom-and caviar-worthy.”
“All right. Hint taken. I won’t send you a case of Dom so you can get fired for accepting a bribe, but Kendra and I will have you, our friend, over for dinner really soon. Thank you, Vernita. I’ll talk to you la
ter.”
Sloan clicked off. He was having no luck trying to get the thief to reveal him-or herself, as no one had taken anything from the trust since he’d instituted the policy of switching team members. It was frustrating and gratifying at the same time. He didn’t want more money stolen, so his plan had worked, but it had also failed on another front. He’d truly thought that greed on the thief’s part would make his plan to root out the thief by process of elimination easy. However, the thief had proved to be smart. Either he was biding his time, or he was finished stealing.
Sloan leaned back tiredly in his chair and passed his hand over his face. There were six people at his firm who he viewed as suspects—too damned many. Hoping to somehow shorten the list, he grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote their names down: Eliza, Patrick, Ranya, Peter, Emily, and Donovan. He scratched the list out and reordered the names, listing them from the most likely to the least likely:
Peter
Ranya
Emily
Patrick, Donovan (tie)
Eliza
He scowled. That’s what I think, anyway, and it’s all based on my gut and what I wish, not anything factual, damn it. He was getting nowhere and felt like he was swimming in mud. The analogy made him think of his conversation with his scatterbrained yet adorable client, and he replayed that morning’s cell-phone call in his head for what must have been at least the fifteenth time.
“Is this Sloan? Sloan Johnson?”
He’d strained to hear her frail voice through a bad connection. “Mrs. Patterson? Is that you?”
“Yes, dear. It’s me. When I talked to my nephew, he told me that you’ve been trying to get in touch with me. Is something wrong?”
“What? I’m having a hard time hearing you. Where are you?”
“I’m sorry, dear. I’m on a cruise.”
“What cruise? Which cruise line?”
“Seven Seas Adventures. I’m on their extended cruise. Oh, it’s just wonderful. I’m going around the world, hitting mostly all the seas—that’s why it’s called Seven Seas Adventures, you know. Of course everyone knows that there are more than seven, but you get the picture, don’t you, dear?”
“Yes, ma’am. How long does the cruise last?”
“Six whole months! I just love it aboard ship. Why, I’m even thinking of buying a cabin, that way I could live on board and travel all year round. I had no idea a person could do such a thing! Did you, dear?”
Live on board? That had been surprising. Mr. Patterson had always talked of how it had been difficult to get her to leave Chicago. What the hell had been going on? Sloan had focused on her question. “Yes, Mrs. Patterson, I did—”
“You did? Well, I’m not surprised. You’re such a smart boy after all, and you take such good care of Terrence’s money and me. If I come back, I’m going to bake you a 7-Up cake to have all to yourself. I know how much you love my 7-Up cake, and—”
Eyes closed, Sloan had frowned and pinched the bridge of his is nose in frustration. As usual, the woman’s conversation had flown in fifty directions. “Thank you. Listen, are you sure you want to live on board? I—”
“Isn’t the idea just lovely? Of course seasickness could be a problem, though I’ve not gotten a bit sick since I’ve been on board. That’s a lucky thing, because we’re going all over the place, and I wouldn’t want to miss a single thing! We’re stopping in ports along all the major oceans—the Atlantic, Mediterranean, Arctic, Indian—”
Sloan had released the bridge of his nose, opened his eyes, and sat up straight in his chair. “Indian? You’re sailing to the Indian Ocean?”
“Oh my, yes. That’s a well-known one, and we’re sailing all of those.”
“But what about pirates, Mrs. Patterson?”
“What about them, dear? I haven’t seen any, but I think they might be a fun part of the entertainment the ship provides. I’ll have to check and see if pirates are on the agenda. Oh, you should take time from your busy schedule and bring your fiancée on the cruise. It’s simply delightful! I’m having the time of my life. There’s an activity to do every hour on the hour…”
Sloan had shut his eyes again and waited for her to finish naming all of the shipboard activities. “That sounds great, Mrs. Patterson, but I meant real pirates. You know the ones—they plunder and rampage?”
Her gasp had been clearly scandalized, even with the bad connection. “Oh, I don’t think the ship offers that kind, dear. That would be dangerous, don’t you think? Anyway, I’ve got pilates for partners in a few minutes, and that handsome Mr. Cooke is joining me. What can I do for you?”
Sloan had given up on trying to make her understand about pirates and had hoped the cruise line knew what the hell it was doing and kept its ships away from dangerous waters. He’d told Mrs. Patterson the news about the trust.
“You mean someone has been taking the money my Terrence worked so hard for and left for me?”
“Yes, and I’m really sorry.”
“Is all of it gone?”
“No, ma’am, but a quarter of a million of it is. I’ve taken measures so no more is stolen, but if you want to put a freeze on the trust and begin the process to have me taken off as trustee, I’ll understand.”
“Of course I don’t want you to put a freeze on the trust, Sloan. Why, if you do, how will I get my money? Let’s not be foolish, young man. And as for your being replaced as trustee, are you saying that you took my money, dear?”
“No, Mrs. Patterson, I did not steal your money. Someone in my firm did.”
“And what are you doing about it?”
“My absolute best to find out who the thief is and have them prosecuted.” He had explained about the involvement of the FBI and the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office. “I could let them take completely over if you’d like.”
“Is that what you want to do, Sloan?”
“No, ma’am; it’s not.”
“Well then, I’ll leave it all in your capable hands, and besides, you put a stop to it before they could take more than the fraction they did get.”
The statement had made Sloan roll his eyes and wish he had been able to think of a quarter of a million dollars as a mere fraction. He’d had to replace the missing money and the blow to the firm’s bank account had given proof to his pain. He’d tuned back into what Mrs. Patterson was saying.
“My Terrence trusted you, and that’s good enough for me,” she had declared. “And don’t you worry one little bit about your reputation either. I won’t tell a soul about this little peccadillo.”
The phone conversation had triggered suspicion, and he’d called Connor and invited him to lunch to discuss an idea. Sloan looked at his watch. He’d be late if he didn’t get a move on. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair, slipped it on, and left his office, closing the door behind him. “I’ll be back in about an hour and a half,” he told Eliza. “Hold my calls.”
Eliza looked up from her computer and smiled. “Will do. You look pretty churned up, boss. Everything okay?” He smiled vaguely at her but didn’t answer.
As he walked down the long hall to reception, Sloan was unable to prevent a spurt of pride from coming through. He had half the top floor of a twenty-two-story building in the middle of Chicago’s bustling downtown business community. He’d worked hard for every inch of the space, and there was no way he’d let a thief endanger that.
He rounded the corner and noticed Donovan and Patrick in close conversation. As he drew closer, the conversation abruptly ended.
“Hey, Sloan,” Donovan said heartily. Maybe a little too heartily, Sloan thought. “What’s up, man?”
“Donovan, Patrick,” Sloan said with a nod toward each as he barely slowed his stride. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, fine,” Patrick said. “I’m still waiting for you and that tennis demon you call a fiancée to accept my invitation for a doubles rematch.”
“Just set the date. We’re ready to whip your ass at your leisure—your
s and your current girlfriend’s, whoever she might be,” Sloan said.
Donovan guffawed. “Aw, man, that’s cold.”
“Cold but true,” Patrick agreed with a shrug and smoothed his artfully styled blond hair. “It’s a known fact that the ladies love Patrick.”
Sloan snorted. “Get back to work,” he told them and continued on to the elevator. As he did, he felt them watching him until he was out of their line of vision.
*
“It’s about time,” Sloan commented when Connor joined him at his reserved table twenty minutes later.
“Hey, I work for the man, not myself,” Connor said and slid into his chair. “I can’t just leave work on my desk whenever I feel like it.”
“Neither can I,” Sloan said tiredly. People always assumed having his own business meant that things were easier. “And you wouldn’t be able to if you came to my firm either.”
Connor shook his head. They’d had this discussion before. “I told you I’m thinking about it. I like my work at L and H.”
Sloan perused his menu. “You’re wasted over there. I hope you’re not holding out for more money, because while I’d like to have you at the firm, I won’t bankrupt myself. Greedy bastard,” he muttered.
Connor only smiled. “Your words are just a variation on a very old theme, man. And I know my worth, cheap-ass American white boy, and I won’t be cheated.”
Sloan laughed and, signaling the waiter, put his menu down. Connor, a first-generation Chinese-American, had called Sloan “American white boy” since day one in law school. He’d picked up the term from his parents and grandparents, who had immigrated to Chicago in the early 1960s.
“So, though I’m flattered, you didn’t invite me to lunch to try to persuade me to join your firm. Tell me what Mrs. Patterson said,” Connor insisted once the waiter had gone.
“The whole thing is suspicious,” Sloan concluded, once he’d relayed the conversation.
“Hmm. Let’s see if we’re on the same page. What’s suspicious about it?”
“The fact that she’s on this extended cruise at the same time that money’s gone missing from the trust. It’s pretty convenient, since it’s difficult for me to get in contact with her. And she was just so blasé about the missing money. Most people would be on their way home by now, and not only would they have demanded that I be relieved of my duties, but they also would have demanded that the theft be reported. Hell, they’d do it themselves. But Mrs. Patterson did neither.”