Trouble Under Venus

by Autumn Piper

  Poor guy had no idea where these protective instincts were coming from. “Okay. Um, I’m gonna go to the ladies’ room. Did you men get all your business worked out?”

  “Yeah. Armando wants to join you girls now. Where’d you learn that sort of poker anyway?”

  “Hold ’Em? It’s really popular where—”

  “Where you come from?” His brows went up. “Remind me when I wanta see a whole other country to go to Arizona. Okay. I’ll see ya inside at the Hold ’Em table.”

  I headed around a spiral staircase to the side door, which should put me near the ladies’ nose-powdering headquarters.

  Poor Dad. So confused, and enlightening him was not an option.

  An arm reached out from behind the staircase and grabbed the strap of my dress, halting my progress. “Dru.”

  Oh, hell. How long had he been skulking around?

  “Tino. It’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations.” Especially when they are about you.

  “It’s rude to lie.”

  “Um, er.” When he closed the gap between us, he didn’t seem much like the harmless young man-child he had earlier. In fact, he didn’t seem harmless at all. That as-yet untapped and untrained power I’d sensed at Conga was out in full force. “Lie?” I’d told Tino a number of untruths during our acquaintance. Not certain which tale he was referring to, I wasn’t eagerly admitting to any one.

  “Yes. Lie.” He grabbed both arms and pushed me back in the cubby he’d vacated, with enough force to tell me he knew he had the upper hand. “For what reason did you tell me you were seeing Keen, if you are his cousin?”

  The obvious reason—that I found his advances overwhelming and unwelcome—didn’t seem my best reply.

  “I just, um, didn’t want to get involved with anyone while I’m here. You know, for such a short time.”

  His hands tightened. “Perhaps there is another man in the way? Miguel?”

  I vigorously shook my head, but he ignored me.

  “And why would you say to your cousin that I am hotter than Miguel? You have a strange way of talking, Señorita. I trusted you. But now…I don’t know. Maybe you’re a cop?”

  “No! I’m not. I’m not a cop. I’m…well, I’m coming out of a divorce with a man who came on strong, Tino, and you turned me off the other night by being so forceful.” His grip on my arms loosened ever so slightly. “Look, tonight was nice, when we danced. But honestly, I’m leaving town in a few days. You should pursue a younger woman, one who’s sticking around.” One who watches The Sopranos and worships that sort of raw danger.

  His hands slid up from my arms to cup my face, ’til there was nothing in my line of vision but his face, his eyes. “Maybe you could be persuaded to stick around.” The whisper fluttered past my lips and left goosebumps.

  Gut instinct told me I wouldn’t like Tino’s plan.

  In fact, my goosebumps were being joined by hairs standing on end. Definitely time to finish this conversation, if at all possible. My hands were free, so I employed my old standby and pinched the underside of both his arms. Hard.

  Tino yelped and swore in Spanish, but I’d slipped past him by the time he reached for me.

  I ran. As fast as my towering heels would let me, down the slippery wooden deck toward a door. It crashed against the wall when I jerked it open. Tino was coming my way. Intent on joining a crowd, any crowd, I hurried inside.

  Only to have a hand clasp me by the arm again, this time yanking me through a partially open door and into a dark room.

  A deadbolt clicked softly into place. The room smelled of cedar and saltwater, and cologne. Motors hummed below us and the person belonging to the hand panted while I refrained from breathing. Outside in the hallway, hurried footsteps, more cursing en español, and someone trying the doorknob. When the footsteps went on past, I let slip a relieved gasp. That was when The Hand clamped over my mouth.

  Chapter 24

  Pure panic told me to kick and flail my arms around until my captor released me. Reason told me to cooperate until I could remember where I knew that cologne from.

  Panic won over. I gave one good kick to a shin and one knee to a groin before he released me with an agonized moan. “God dammit, Randi!”

  “Mitch?”

  He brushed past me in the dark and shut the window, which appeared to be only a few feet away from where Tino had cornered me.

  “Jesus. If you’re going to spy on me, the least you can do is rescue me when I’m in distress. Shit!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he growled, still obviously in pain. “I thought you didn’t want my protection. This morning you were pissed off by my surveillance. How’m I supposed to guess what the hell you want?”

  “What I want?” I tried to keep my voice down, in case Tino came back by the door. “You’re the one who’s all hot then cold. One day you want me and the next, you won’t touch me.” My voice cracked and I jabbed an angry finger in his direction, not that he’d see it. “And then tonight you’re out there dry-humping Delicia on the dance floor! So what the hell do you want?”

  “For you to quit making this case more complicated. Why’d you have to go and tease Tino? Isn’t there enough danger already, or did you want more?”

  Way to blame all the complications on me. He was the one who’d followed me into the ladies’ room when Tino found us. “Oh, now I’m a tease? For your information, Tino has been pursuing me since my first night at Conga!”

  “And I suppose your idea of eluding his capture is clinging to him for dear life while he manhandles your ass on the dance floor?”

  No way was I letting him know I’d been fantasizing it was him out there getting amorous with me. “Look, I’ve been trying for days to keep Tino from suspecting us. It’s been a balancing act, juggling his attention without rejecting him or leading him on too much.”

  He let out a big breath. “Sure seemed like you were out to prove something. Or punish me.”

  Pot calls the kettle black! “And wasn’t that act with Delicia intended to punish me?”

  “Not you. Not directly, anyway. It was meant for Keen.” Somehow when he said my father’s nickname, it sounded like a dirty word. This couldn’t be good. “Every time I turn around, he’s got his hands on you.”

  “Oh, good God! He’s my father, Mitch. Nothing inappropriate has happened or is going to.” What kind of goofy jealousy was this?

  “I know he’s your father and you know he’s your father. But to him, you’re just some distant cousin and every time he gets the chance, he’s rubbing in my face—I swear he’s touching you to piss me off.”

  “He’s been keeping up the boyfriend act to hold Tino at bay. Poor guy’s all protective and he doesn’t understand why.”

  “Protective! There isn’t another person in this entire operation more risky than him for you to be near and yet he drags you around with him, exposing you to danger. Then he—” He halted suddenly, and I heard him scrubbing his hands through his hair. “I hate him. I really do.”

  No, no, no. This could not happen. He could not decide he hated my father, who I’d been looking for all my life. This was worse than when David went all insecure over my need to find Dennis! There had to be a way to smooth this over. I stepped closer, reached out to him. “He’s trying to save me from ‘guys like him’.” Against my palm, his heart pounded under his shirt. “I’m sure you don’t really hate him.”

  “I do! Every time he puts his hand on you, he looks at me like, ‘She’s mine and you can’t touch her.’ And I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” To prove it, I searched out his hand and brought it up to my neck.

  On his own, he moved his hand and cupped my chin, caressed my lower lip with his thumb. Then he let out such a frustrated, pained groan, I almost wondered if it was residual pain from my well-placed knee.

  I stepped closer still, so even our legs touched and then I met his oncoming lips with mine. The kiss was soft only for a moment before he got hungry, nip
ping at my lips and holding my head with both hands. Desire spread like wildfire, the tingling of my lips sparking aches and throbs elsewhere.

  “Jesus,” he breathed against my cheek. “This is…I…can’t.” His lips seemed determined to prove to him that he could, as they took my earlobe. “We can’t.”

  “Can,” was my only verbal argument. To make my point, I nipped his neck.

  “Oh Jesus…” He groaned and my heart leapt with the prospect of his resolve failing. “I want you.”

  Magic words. “You do? So I haven’t…” I moved my lips under his ear. “…done something to ruin it?”

  “No.” His hands slid from my head to my back.

  Amazing how the heels of my hands fit so perfectly under the edge of his shoulders.

  Sliding past my ribs, his thumbs eased inside my dress and along the sides of my breasts. My shiver—or was it a shudder?—sure wasn’t the result of being cold.

  I could hardly breathe, I wanted him so bad. An arc of electricity between us pulled my body toward his. It made for a burning ache between my legs, an all but painful need to have him… “Touch me.”

  Another groan and he kissed me long and deep, his tongue doing a rapid, ravishing dance with mine. “I shouldn’t.” His lips trailed down to my cleavage as his hands found the hem of my dress. The pounding in my chest ceased as his fingers stroked my inner thighs. Streaks of lust shot up my legs like arrows indicating where I should direct his touch. “I swore I…”

  I could all but feel the heat of his hand through my panties. Could I possibly hold out another second without writhing against him?

  “…wouldn’t.” But he did. His finger slipped inside the panty, going directly to my center. The effect was immediate.

  I’d have screamed, if he hadn’t covered my mouth with his. I’d have fallen if he hadn’t held me up. I’d have stopped the hands of time if I could.

  At last he broke the kiss and chuckled. “Feel better?”

  Actually, I felt a tad embarrassed. “My God. That’s never happened before, so fast, just from being touched. You probably think I’m some kind of ho—”

  “Shh. It was awesome.”

  “Oh.” Awesome. Yeah, it was. “Let’s see what I can do for you now.” Having caught my breath, I was itching to get my hands, and eyes, on what I’d speculated for some time he packed in his pants.

  “No. I can’t.” His answer was as firm as I imagined that member to be. He stepped away, breaking our bond.

  “I’m sure you can.”

  “No. We need to get back out there before we’re missed.”

  I had no idea what to think. Did he not want to have sex with me? He’d admitted to wanting me. But now he didn’t want me? This felt like Calculus. Things didn’t add up.

  He’d said he couldn’t. But why? I sniffled back my disappointment and maybe some tears too.

  “What if we stay in here until we reach port?” I asked. “There’s a bed, right?”

  “Oh, baby.” His arms circled me again. “We can’t right now.” He sucked in a long, deep breath and I got the distinct impression he was smelling my hair. “But I promise you, when this is all over, I’m gonna take you out on a boat in that dress and drop anchor, and make love to you for a week.”

  “A week?”

  He nodded against my forehead.

  “Promise?”

  Another nod.

  “I’m gonna hold you to it. And I’ll try really hard to make sure you don’t have to rescue me any more.”

  Dear Randi,

  A yacht, a risky game of poker, and an orgasm. What more could a girl ask for in one evening?

  I still have no idea what has gotten into Mitchell but at least I know he still wants me and it’s almost against his will that he’s been avoiding me.

  Texas Hold ’Em was a big hit with the Cubans, even though only Tino was still in the game with Dennis and I by the time we reached port. No wonder Mitch folded early—what with both my dad and Tino watching him like suspicious hawks, he had a hard time concentrating. I almost lost my ass one hand too, after meeting his eyes. God, it was like reliving what we’d just done. Could have kicked everyone out of the room and taken him right there on the table, I tell ya.

  Only 2 more days until The Big. For some reason, I’m really nervous. It’s probably silly. I mean, Keen always knows when cops are going to be around and Mitch knows too. If something happened to either Mitch or Dennis… I’m going to dig that lucky turtle out of my backpack and keep it with me from here on out.

  Dad has school again tomorrow, so I’ve got a little plan up my sleeve for Mr. Goodbody. By noon tomorrow, he will be mine.

  Goodnight and good dreams,

  Randi In Love

  Chapter 25

  The street outside Conga and Mitch’s apartment complex was three stories below my window as I powered up the TTR. From my room at the Holiday Inn, I’d have a perfect view of my Goodbody as he came to deliver us both to paradise. If he agreed to come.

  The breath hesitated in my chest at the prospect of rejection. Where had all the confidence I’d felt on my way down here gone? Even climbing out of the cab, I’d been certain of success.

  Now my palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry. So this was fear. It was one thing to fear snakes, when I had a one-in-however-many chance of getting bit. But the chances of Mitch rejecting me instead of falling for my seduction were more like fifty-fifty. Or maybe less. God, were my odds worse than that? Probably. Oh, Jesus. What was the damn code I used before to call him, anyway? This was such a stupid idea, thinking I could call him and invite him over for a day of sex. If he refused, how would I ever face him again? How would I go on breathing?

  He called me ‘baby’.True. He had called me baby after giving me that wonderful orgasm. And the way his voice got all raspy when he said it, well, it wasn’t just any old endearment. Even now, standing in the clarity of morning light, remembering those two syllables rumbling from him made my toes curl.

  You can do this. Surely I could. A couple of deep, cleansing breaths and I visualized him laying under me in that tiny tent in Grand Canyon. God, he was hot wearing the Look of Lust.

  “Mitch?” Was that the talk button, or was it this one? What a pain, having all the keys disguised. “Hey Goodbody, come in!” It couldn’t hurt to start off with some flattery, right? “Mitch?”

  “Hey.” If possible, the sound of his voice turned me on more. And terrified me.

  Unsure whether my voice would betray my nerves, I said only, “Hi.”

  “Must be a storm coming, if you called all on your own.” He snickered, then asked, “You sure this isn’t some alien who’s taken over Randi’s body?”

  “Oh, shut up.” At least he’d made me smile, so the nerves weren’t churning my stomach anymore. Maybe I’d be able to remember my speech. “My dad’s got school today again. And then he’s planning another trip to the library.” That bit of information had given me pause, but I’d been too involved in my plans for a day with Mitch to care about where Dennis was really going after school.

  “Hmm. So you called because you’re bored?”

  That was my cue. Use your bluffing voice. Be calm and seductive. “I thought about you all night long.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Mitch? You still there?”

  “I’m here. I thought about you too, Randi, but this probably isn’t the best topic—”

  Before he went and messed up my confidence, I had to issue the invitation. “I’m at the Holiday Inn up the street from your apartment. Room 345. I’ll be here all day. If you were to show up, it’d be our little secret.” Then, the all-important detail. “I bought condoms.” And as my faith wavered at my forwardness, “If you don’t come, I’ll respect your feelings. I mean, I’ll understand. I’ll be…” Crushed. Mortified. “Fine.”

  “Fine,” he repeated. Did he mean, fine he’d come, or fine that I’d be fine, or was he questioning whether I’d really be fine?

 
“Fine. So I’ll…see ya.”

  He never came back. Fine. What the hell did that mean, anyway? I left the window, paced toward the door, then back. Fine. What a strange little word. The more I thought about it, the more irritated I got with myself for using it in the first place. If he didn’t show up I’d be mortally, terminally crushed. Destroyed.

  Fine. Since the distance between the door and window was only a few feet, picking up pacing speed did little more than get me winded and dizzy. I’d watch at the window. Then if he did show up, at least I’d see him coming.

  Tiny people far below traipsed up and down the boulevard, their counterparts in cars roaring past, leaving black clouds of smoke behind. Wow, emissions had really come a long way by 2010.

  Would Mitch show up on his bike, or walk? It was only a couple of blocks. Or would he stand me up, like the guy in some TV drama or breakup song—

  Music, music! I’d forgotten, that was part of the ambiance I’d planned. The TTR still doubled as a radio, so I fiddled with the knobs until I found a somewhat clear station. Wouldn’t you know, it was Blondie, singing Call Me.

  So I listened to her and paced. And checked my watch. Ten minutes. Had it only been that long? Geez. Pat Benatar came on and begged Hit Me With Your Best Shot.

  “I did,” I muttered. “I hit him with my best shot. And what was the most seductive remark in my arsenal? ‘I bought condoms.’ Way to go, Randi. Way to go. Almost as smooth as fine.”

  A few commercials played while I stared desolately down at the parking lot. Not much action there, other than the same yellow taxi parked at Registration since Benatar had started singing.

  The DJ announced The Spinners and Working My Way Back to You and still no Mitch bike. Maybe his answer was no.

  When Queen came on with Crazy Little Thing Called Love, I kicked the bed. And decided to put on the swim suit I’d bought the other day and go to the pool. This day would not be a total loss. So long as I kept that pack of condoms out of sight, I’d be able to keep the tears from coming.