by Suzanne Rock
“Gabe.” She placed her hand on my cheek as I began thrusting once more. Her touch numbed my mind until all I could think about was claiming her, possessing her. Each thrust pushed me deeper into an erotic haze until all that existed was this woman, and this moment.
When I heard her say my name again, I knew that she was well on her way to her second orgasm, and it took everything I had to hold myself back until I felt her writhe in ecstasy once more. Only then did I let go of my control and let the pleasure consume me. My orgasm came hard and fast, like a fire burning out of control. Leaning back, I groaned and thrust deep, filling her with everything I had inside. Bliss surrounded me, and as I emptied myself, I realized just how much I had missed the wild, adventurous Scarlett from high school.
As the last ripple of pleasure faded, I slid us both onto our sides so that I could collapse on the couch.
“That was amazing,” she whispered into my hair.
“Hmmm . . .” Amazing, mind-blowing. There were a dozen different words to describe what had just happened between us. Unfortunately, my brain couldn’t function enough to tell her any of them.
Scarlett slid her hand down the side of my cheek. “We should probably get back to the party.”
I cracked open one eye. Oh right, the party. To Scarlett, I was still an escort, and she was still my client. Somehow that seemed rather cheap when compared to what just transpired between us, but what could I do? I couldn’t tell her that I was really an undercover cop without ruining the entire investigation.
I let her slide out from under my arms and collapsed back onto the couch as she started to straighten her dress. How could this woman have so much energy? I could sleep for a week.
“Someone will probably ask what happened to us,” she said. Her hands shook as she slid her breasts back into her dress.
I slowly stood and placed my hands over hers, stopping her movements. “I’m sure that none of them have noticed. On the outside chance someone did notice, wouldn’t it only further prove that you are over your ex?”
“Possibly.” She nibbled her lower lip. “But what if someone says something—”
“They won’t.” I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Trust me.” While I had loved the confident and in-charge Scarlett during sex, this new side of her troubled me. It wasn’t like her to be so concerned with what others thought, or to be so cautious. I wondered what had happened during our years apart to make her feel so vulnerable.
She visibly relaxed and squeezed my fingers. “Thank you.”
I adjusted my clothes as she bent down to retrieve her purse. Part of me wanted to reach out and grab that firm, round ass, but I knew that I couldn’t give in to temptation. She was right. We needed to return to the party. While I didn’t think people noticed our absence, I had work to do. Sal would want an update tomorrow morning and I couldn’t very well tell him that I had spent the night fucking instead of investigating.
“Are you ready?” Scarlett asked.
I started to respond, but then a siren blared from somewhere outside the building.
Scarlett clutched her purse to her chest. “What was that?”
“It sounded like a police siren.” I moved to the nearby window and pulled back the curtain, but couldn’t see anything. Lovely. Just what I needed, someone from the precinct recognizing me and blowing my cover.
“Why would the cops be here?” she asked.
I grabbed her hand. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to stick around and find out.” Before she could respond, I threw open the door and was greeted by at least a dozen unfamiliar faces, all looking worried and upset.
“What happened?” I asked one of them.
“Someone collapsed.” The tall woman nodded toward the far end of the hallway. “I think it was a heart attack.”
“Heart attacks don’t look like that,” the man next to her said. “If I had to guess, the man was drugged.”
Chapter Five
Scarlett
“Drugged?” Shock sliced through me as Gabe halted next to the man. “How?” I glanced at the woman. “Why?” I dropped Gabe’s hand and shook my head. “No one ever uses drugs at these events. It isn’t that kind of party.”
“Who was drugged?” Gabe asked.
“Some big-shot dealer,” the woman said. “I can’t remember his name.” She turned to the man next to her. “Can you?”
“No, but there’s a cop car and an ambulance out front. They’re talking to Rocco. I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of this.”
I started to sway as the room blurred out of focus.
“Are you all right, Ms. Bishop?” The man, whom I recognized as one of the newer contemporary artists who had pitched his work to me last year, grabbed my elbow.
“She’s fine.” Gabe pulled me from the man’s grip and turned my body so that I faced him. “You are fine, aren’t you?”
I slowly lifted my head up and met his gaze. “I think so. This is all just such a shock.”
He pressed his lips together for a moment in thought. “Let’s check it out.”
I pulled out of his grasp. “I can’t be associated with any scandal.”
“It will only take a minute.” He straightened. “I want to see what happened.”
Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd of gawkers. As we headed through the sliding glass doors and out onto the back deck, whispers followed us.
“It all happened so fast.”
“One minute he was standing, and the next—”
“Didn’t he just go through some big breakup?”
We hurried out onto the deck and pushed our way through the crowd. When we got to the center of the mob, I almost fainted again.
There, just beyond the buffet table, my ex lay in the sand. His upper half was face up. His skin was red, his eyes large and bloodshot. Spittle and foam dribbled from his mouth and stained his shirt. From the waist down he was completely naked, his cock lying limp and spent to one side. His knees on down were obstructed from view by the large bushes surrounding the property.
“What an ass,” the woman said next to me. When I tore my gaze away from Henri’s body and glanced at her, she continued. “He was trying to have sex in the bushes and croaked.”
“Look at his mouth.” A man pointed at the body. “Why is it foaming?”
“Out of my way, I know CPR.” Gabe let go of my hand as he knelt by the body.
It took me a minute to remember his bio. It had said that he had a military background. He must have learned it there.
“He was poisoned,” someone said behind me.
“Head trauma,” guessed another.
“Drunk.”
I watched Gabe grab a napkin off the buffet table and used it to turn the man’s head. He looked thoughtfully at Henri, poking at his neck and chest, then leaned over until his cheek was inches from my ex-boyfriend’s mouth.
“Is he alive?” someone asked.
Gabe shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“I told you he had a heart attack,” a woman in the crowd said.
“He was strangled,” Gabe said as he straightened and pointed at the body. “There are marks around his throat.”
“Strangled?” I started to sway as the world spun around me. Suddenly Gabe was there, grabbing my arm and steadying me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking. Let’s get you out of here.”
I let him put his arm around me and lead me away from the body.
“Out of my way. Coming through.” Bridget’s voice rose up from the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hurry onto the deck, several police officers in tow.
“Clear the way,” one of the officers said.
“Is this a crime scene?” someone asked.
The cops didn’t answer. Instead, they started examining the body and the surrounding area. Gabe grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the crowd.
“Come on,” Gabe said as he tugged my tow
ard the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Oh my God.” Bridget waved her hands in the air and fell to her knees a short distance from the cops. If I hadn’t heard her say during my internship that Henri was a pig-headed, oversexed twit, I would have believed that she actually felt fond of the man.
Gabe steered me away from the scene as one of the cops tried to soothe Bridget.
“Please,” I said as we entered the kitchen. “Just give me a moment.”
“Do you want a glass of water?”
I nodded and leaned against the counter. Gabe rummaged around until he found a glass, then filled it and handed it to me. After a long sip, I began to feel a little better.
“I don’t understand how this doesn’t faze you,” I said as I set the glass down.
He shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen a dead body.”
I shuddered. “I know. Afghanistan.”
He blinked, then started to say something. I held up my hand, stopping him. “Please. I don’t want to hear about it. Not now.”
“We should go. You look rather pale.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” We started for the door, but stopped as a familiar face came into view.
“Oh my God. My Henri!” Bridget wailed as she came into the kitchen with Rocco. “Why would someone do this to my Henri?” I frowned. Since when had my former boyfriend become “her” Henri?
“I don’t know, ma’am,” Gabe said.
“It’s a terrible thing. Terrible,” Rocco said as he got Bridget a glass of water. “Those cops out there are saying the body has the markings of the Escort Killer.”
“That guy on the news?” I asked.
Rocco nodded.
“This is terrible.” Bridget took a sip of water and placed the glass on the table. “I don’t understand. Henri was such a gentle soul.”
I snorted and crossed my arms. Gentle, my ass. When that man wanted something, he could be more aggressive than a hungry piranha.
“Did you see what happened?” Gabe asked.
Bridget blinked and put her hand to her chest. “He had told me that he was feeling a little under the weather. I was trying to convince him to stay, but he insisted on returning to his room for the night. He wanted to be in the best condition possible for the opening of the show tomorrow.” She gasped and took a step back. “You aren’t suggesting . . .”
“I’m not suggesting anything.” Gabe glanced at Rocco. “But if those cops are right, and the Escort Killer was somehow involved, then it is possible he or she lured Mr. D’Lay into the bushes for a . . . private moment. Then, during that moment, he was either drugged, or strangled, or both.”
“Good God,” Bridget said. She took another sip of water, then glanced over at me. “You.”
“What?” I lowered my arms.
“You.” She advanced, fisting her hands at her sides. “You were always jealous of my relationship with Henri. Admit it.”
“Me?” I flashed her an incredulous look. “You were the one who was jealous of me! You were just waiting for us to break up so you could date him.”
“We aren’t dating, my dear. We’re just good friends. Close friends.” Bridget shook her head and twisted her lips into a half smile. “I wasn’t the one who was heartbroken after Henri had moved on to another lover. I wasn’t the one rumored to be slipping with her business because she was so overcome with grief.”
“Enough,” Gabe said as he moved to my side. “Scarlett didn’t do this.”
Bridget stopped and raised her brow. “And you know this because . . .”
He lifted his chin. “Because she was with me the entire time.”
“I see.” She frowned at me and crossed her arms. “I still say she was somehow involved. Ever since Henri broke up with Scarlett, she hasn’t been herself. This was a crime of passion.”
“Enough.” Rocco held up his hand. “I will not have any more chaos in my house.” He took out his handkerchief from his right pocket and wiped his forehead. “This has been a most trying day.”
As Bridget turned to console Rocco, Gabe took my hand.
“Come on,” Gabe tightened his grip on my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Why?”
He turned and looked at me. “Do you really want to explain what we were doing during the murder to the officers?”
“Good point.” Bridget was right. I had a motive, at least in the eyes of the others in the art community. What they didn’t know was that I had moved on from our relationship. Tonight was supposed to be my clean break, a grand gesture to tell the world that I didn’t need Henri D’Lay in my life. Unfortunately, to everyone here I was still that timid girl who hung on Henri’s every word.
“Coming through.” Gabe and I stepped back as several more cops moved through the kitchen. Gabe used the distraction to steer me toward the front door.
“I should call up the limo,” I said.
“It will only draw attention to us.” He glanced at me. “Do you have a cell?”
I nodded. As we walked past the lineup of police cars, ambulances, limousines, and luxury cars, and toward the street, I handed him my cell.”
He nodded and shoved it in his pocket. “We’ll walk a few blocks first, then call a cab.”
I started to protest, but he seemed to know what he was doing. In fact, he seemed far too calm and collected for an escort who had just seen a dead body. Sure, he had been in Afghanistan, but I wasn’t sure if everything that had happened in the past hour could be attributed to time spent on the battlefield. He seemed to know just what to do and what to say. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn he was one of the cops investigating Henri’s death, not an escort.
Oh God, Henri is dead. As he steered me away from the chaos, I tried to clear the jumbled mess in my head. It wouldn’t take long for the police to consider me a suspect. We just had a messy breakup, one which left my company in the red. I tried to think of someone else who might have had reason to kill Henri, but came up empty. While the art world could be vicious when our reputations were at stake, none of us were murderers.
When we approached the end of the long driveway, Gabe pulled me into the bushes.
“What are you doing?”
“Shh.” Branches stuck out all around us, shielding us from view. He pulled me close to his chest as voices rose up from the other side of the bushes.
“What have you got?” A flash of blue peeked out from the branches, and I knew that a couple of officers must be standing a short distance away.
“Older male, mid-fifties. Found naked out back by the deck. He was both strangled and poisoned, but it’s hard to tell which was the cause of death.”
“Both happened around the same time?”
The cop nodded. “An autopsy will tell for sure.”
“Jesus, talk about overkill. Have you questioned the guests?”
“Some. Seems as if this guy, this Henri D’Lay, had quite the sexual appetite. Was into suffocation play and all that. He had a girlfriend, but the rumor was that she didn’t come close to satisfying him. He frequently hired prostitutes, both male and female, to fulfill his needs.”
I started to gasp, but Gabe put his hand over my mouth, stopping me.
“Where’s this girlfriend now?”
“Former girlfriend. They had a messy breakup about a week ago when she caught him cheating on her. She was here tonight.”
“Hmm. Motive and opportunity.”
“I thought so, too, sir.”
“Did you question her?”
“Not yet, but no one has left the premises. We’re looking for her now.”
“You better find her fast.”
“Yes sir.”
Gabe frowned as the police moved up the driveway toward the building.
“I had nothing to do with Henri’s murder,” I said as he pulled me from the bushes.
Gabe motioned me to lower my voice. “I know.”
“I should talk to them—”
<
br /> “Not yet.”
“Why?”
“You heard them. Motive and opportunity.”
“But I was with you.”
“Yes, but I’m not the most trustworthy alibi.”
“Why not?”
He stared at me for a moment. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. “Because you’re paying me.”
“Oh.”
“If we go and tell them the truth now, everything will come out. Everyone will know that you hired an escort, and I will lose my job because I broke the rules. More importantly, your name won’t be cleared. Once those cops found out you paid me to be with you tonight, they’ll suspect that you hired me to be your cover. We’ll both be under suspicion until the facts tell them otherwise.”
I narrowed my gaze. “You seem to know a lot about how cops think.”
He pressed his lips together and took my hand. “Come on.”
We hurried down the driveway, away from the mansion and the chaos behind us. When we got to the street, Gabe pulled out my phone and dialed a cab. He then handed me back the cell and we continued walking. With each step, the events from the past few hours rolled around in my brain. After a couple of blocks, Gabe spotted the cab waiting for us, and we both climbed in the back. Gabe gave the cab driver directions to my hotel.
Silence settled between us as I started to process all that had happened. I was such a fool to lead Gabe away from the crowd and make a pass at him. I should have been schmoozing clients. At the very least, I should have been evaluating potential artists for my gallery. Instead of working, I had used the opportunity to get down and dirty in the library.
It was hard for me to regret my actions, however. Gabe had been just what I needed. The sex was amazing, and now, after it was over, it was difficult for me to see why I had been attracted to Henri in the first place. Being with Gabe reminded me of the woman I used to be before I met Bridget and Henri. I hadn’t realized just how much those two had eroded my self-confidence until now. I wanted the old me back, and I knew that Gabe was just the one who could help me find her.
“We were seen at the party together,” I said after a long moment. “That probably means that the police running the investigation will question you as well as me.”