Double Down

by MB Austin

  “Oh, right. I did promise.” Erlea looked Lyttleton over. “But he looks like a twit. Are he and Nigel related?”

  Imane laughed. “Shh. You haven’t even hit the bar yet.”

  “And I’m not going to,” Erlea insisted, before Imane could pull her away from Celeste. “Maji taught me a trick. Will you get me something clear, soda or seltzer, with a wedge of lime?”

  “Sure,” Celeste said with a wink.

  Erlea looked back as Imane dragged her away. “Thanks.”

  “You can canoodle on the dance floor later,” Imane said. “Now act like a celebrity.”

  “We were talking about books,” Erlea said. “And I’m only getting fake drunk later.”

  By the time she made it back to Celeste, the room was getting crowded and the music only added to the muddle of sound. Celeste handed her a tall glass.

  “Most of the ice melted, sorry,” she said. To the man next to her, she asked, “Could you get me another?”

  “Uh, sure.” He took her wineglass and headed for the long bar line.

  “Do you know who that is?” Erlea watched him go, impressed.

  Celeste shook her head. “Tony. No last name offered. Did I blow it?”

  “No, you’re perfect.” Stupid. Why not just tell her she’s hot, too? “I mean, he needs that sometimes. Owning the biggest label in Europe goes to his head.”

  Celeste covered her mouth. Was she giggling?

  “Are you buzzed?”

  “No,” Celeste replied, flushing. “A little tipsy, maybe. And I have good news.” She pulled Erlea close to speak right next to her ear. “I’m going to Barcelona on the weekend. I reached out to friends with a practice there, and they want to meet.”

  “That’s great.” Erlea pulled back so Celeste could share her smile. “Your dress doesn’t match your eyes at all.”

  “That’s what Roger said. But it fit. Well, a little tight, but who cares?” Celeste leaned back in. “Nobody knows me here.”

  That sounded ridiculously sexy. Erlea just nodded. The music changed to a slow number, and she slid an arm around Celeste’s waist.

  “Are we dancing?” Celeste asked.

  “Unless you mind.”

  Celeste draped her arms lightly over Erlea’s shoulders. “Just one. I love this song.”

  “It’s my new favorite,” Erlea whispered into her hair. She put her hands on Celeste’s hips, wanting to slide one around and pull her close. But no.

  To her delight, Celeste took the lead, dropping one hand and nudging Erlea’s arm back, then slipping her hand under the back of her jacket. The feel of Celeste’s palm through her shirt, the softness of her cheek against her own, the gentle press of breasts and hips, stole all the words from Erlea’s mind. She closed her eyes and just moved her feet in tiny steps, blissful.

  “You are perfect as you are,” Celeste murmured.

  Erlea smiled and leaned her temple against Celeste’s. “Feels true right now.” Her whole body thrummed. She had no liquid courage pushing her to try for a kiss, probably for the best. If she drank too much to remember this moment, that would be a tragedy.

  As the music shifted tempo, they broke apart, Celeste looking bashful. “Here comes Tomás.”

  “First reporters being let in to play now,” Maji said, her voice shielded by the noise level. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Good night,” Erlea told them. “Thanks for coming.”

  Celeste leaned in and yelled, “Tell Tony he made quite an impression. He never brought me my wine back.”

  Erlea laughed until they were out of sight.

  “It’s great to see you happy,” Imane said, slipping an arm through hers.

  “She has the quirkiest sense of humor.” Erlea looked sideways at her. “Don’t say it.”

  “Say what?”

  Erlea’s chest squeezed tight. “Laura would have liked her.”

  “I didn’t say it.” Imane turned them toward the bar. “Come on, let’s get you another fake drink. You’ve got rich assholes to offend and the night is young.”

  * * *

  Maji saw Celeste into a taxi out front. When she spotted Reimi, just off shift and still in her uniform, she hurried back through the lobby. No time for games tonight. She let out a sigh as the elevator doors began to close. A hand with long dark nails swept between them, the sensor worked properly, and the doors slid open.

  Reimi walked in, eyes flashing. “I thought Celeste didn’t know where you were. Yet here you are together.” The elevator began its ascent to the party floor.

  “I’m here on a job again,” Maji said. “Right now, actually. I can’t talk.”

  “But we’re alone,” Reimi said. She punched the stop button and the elevator shuddered to a halt. “And you’re so perfect.”

  Maybe not angry, Maji thought as Reimi pressed her against the wall of the elevator. And gave her the kind of let’s-make-up-by-fucking kiss that left Maji gasping. When Reimi tugged the zipper of her trousers down and started fiddling with the belt, Maji’s common sense returned.

  “Wait.” She clutched Reimi’s wrist, hyperaware of the nails lightly brushing her skin. “I really can’t right now. Not ’cause I don’t want to. Really want to.”

  Reimi grinned at her. “Keep wanting me. I’m going to change and get a drink. When do you get off?”

  “Not sure,” Maji said. “Big party. Might be hours.” Her breathing was coming back under control now. “We should talk.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it, Tomás,” Reimi said with a satisfied look as she let herself out on the next floor. “Until then.”

  On the ascent, Maji wiped Reimi’s lipstick off and tried to reach Dave. All she heard was static.

  Romero grabbed her as she stepped out. “Take the stairs, we’re searching this floor.”

  “Sorry, what? My comm was out.”

  “Erlea’s missing. Check the stairwell,” he barked at her. “Go, go.”

  “Gone.” She ran for the Exit sign and through the door, then paused to listen.

  “Crackle…squeal…elevators.” It sounded like Dave in her earbud.

  Below her, a muffled curse and a thump. “Movement on the stairs,” she said, hoping Dave or somebody on the comms had decent reception.

  And then she flew, using the handrails to propel herself down half a flight at a time, then around the corner, down again, around again. She landed as softly as she could, pausing on the third landing to listen.

  “Get the fuck off,” Erlea’s voice slurred.

  “Shh, I’m helping you,” a man’s voice responded. “You’re drunk. You need air.”

  Maji said, “Between floors six and four, with at least one male.” Then she flew again.

  Rounding the fourth corner, she spotted them. “Hey,” she yelled.

  One man looked up and let go of Erlea, who appeared to be deadweight now. The other guy grunted, pulling her toward the exit door with her feet dragging over the landing. The door burst open and Dave grabbed for him.

  Maji took off after the runner, leaping over Erlea’s sprawled form as Dave bit out commands for medical backup.

  Despite his head start, the runner only knew how to pound down the stairs two at a time. Maji closed in, watching for him to stumble. Just before the next landing, he twisted with a yelp and went down flailing. She assisted him by pinning one arm behind his back, his face pressed to the steps.

  “Rios to Brown, over.”

  “Go for Brown.” Dave’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “Third floor landing, accomplice in custody.” Why didn’t the uniform come with handcuffs? “Escort available?”

  “On their way. Out.”

  She handed him over and headed to the medical office to check on Erlea. In the corridor, Santxo and one of his real security staff kept a small clump of guests and reporters from getting any closer.

  Santxo spotted her. “Tomás. What took you so long? Are you hurt?”

  Maji started to sha
ke her head, then realized he was giving her a reason to go in. She clutched one arm for the benefit of the rubberneckers. Once alongside him, she murmured, “Thanks. Anyone call Celeste yet?”

  “No. The medics were here already. Should I?”

  She shook her head gingerly, amazed her wig and cap had stayed put this long. Before she stepped back into public view, they would need resecuring. “Let me check.”

  Three faces turned toward her as she entered Celeste’s office. Then two went back to working on Erlea, monitoring vital signs and adjusting an IV. Erlea didn’t stir—but at least she was breathing.

  “Nice catch,” Dave said. “We thought she went to the restroom. Next thing you know—”

  “Our comms cut out,” Maji said. As if jammed. By whom? “Debrief?”

  “Later,” Dave said. “Romero’s got one perp upstairs, I’ve got the other in there.” He nodded toward the back room. “They got Erlea puked dry and stabilized, but somebody should stay with her tonight. Where’s the doctor?”

  “On my boat. I’ll call her.” Maji started dialing. Within two minutes, Celeste was climbing into a taxi.

  Dave handed Maji’s phone back. “You hurt? You don’t look great.”

  “No, I’m good.” Maji put both hands behind her, embarrassed they shook slightly as the adrenaline wore off.

  “Rios. Go back to your room and get some rest, order some food.” He smiled. “Call that woman from the elevator to share it with you. If you can keep your hat on.”

  “Really, Dave?” Maji shook her head. “When did the comms stop working, exactly?”

  “Not sure. Did she say anything after until then?” He added an eyebrow waggle to his terrible Reimi imitation.

  “You seriously want me off the clock right now?”

  He nodded gravely. “Take a break. And if you have company tonight, turn your comm off. Seriously.”

  * * *

  Maji rode the elevator up to her floor, wishing she’d sent Reimi an apology rather than an invitation. Not that sex didn’t appeal, now that she knew she could handle herself in the heat of the moment. For that she should thank Reimi, but was gratitude enough reason to keep play-acting?

  Reimi moved toward her the moment the doors opened. “Are you hurt? Look, your uniform is torn.”

  “I’m okay,” Maji assured her, trying to gently redirect Reimi to the waiting elevator car. “But things got a little crazy, and I’m starting to crash. I’m sorry.”

  Reimi took Maji’s face in both hands. “Baby, of course you are. You chased the bad guys down. That’s so hot. Let me take care of you.” She kissed Maji with tenderness.

  “Word’s out, huh?” Maji let them into her room, pressing Reimi against the closed door. Reimi held her close but didn’t push her to pull off clothes or rush the heat. Desire built slowly, on its own, with an intimacy lacking the previous night. Maji nearly forgot her question.

  “It’s on TV already,” Reimi answered as Maji kissed her neck, working down toward the swell of breasts peeking from the unbuttoned shirt. Maji stiffened and Reimi rushed to elaborate. “Not your heroic rescue. The press says she took drugs and is in the hospital. No word of a kidnapping attempt. Or Tomás.”

  Maji pulled back. “I’d really like to ditch Tomás tonight. I need a shower and some sleep.”

  “Let me run you a bath and kiss your bumps and bruises away. Then I will put you to bed and be on my way, I promise.”

  Maji let Reimi undress her and tut over an assortment of scrapes and contusions before she stepped into the steaming tub. When Reimi reached to take off her hat, Maji stopped her, remembering the red hair hidden under the black wig.

  “It’s okay,” Reimi assured her. “Santxo told me about your other job here. Let’s get this hot thing off and wash your rock star hair out.”

  Maji sighed with relief and nodded, letting Reimi pull out the clips and free her hair. “I hope he swore you to secrecy, at least.”

  Reimi chuckled as she lathered up a washcloth. “All of your secrets are safe with me.” She eyed the large tub. “Is there room in there for two? I want to rub your back.”

  Maji nodded, reclining in the delicious heat, soaking her sore muscles. “Please.”

  “I do like when you say that,” Reimi purred, stripping off her shirt and slacks as Maji watched. She added a sensuous sway to her removal of the lacy bra and panties, then kissed Maji deeply before carefully slipping into place behind her.

  Maji leaned back against Reimi, cradled by her soft belly and breasts and the silky legs draped around her hips. She sighed as Reimi slipped her arms under Maji’s and began kneading her pecs while sucking a low spot on her neck. “This is so nice.”

  Reimi pushed her gently forward, moving her hands to Maji’s shoulders. “I could be a very good girlfriend for you. We could take care of each other, the way we both like.”

  Maji moaned as Reimi’s fingers found and released the knots in her muscles. “Um…” She really needed to say something, not lead her on.

  “Oh yes. Look how strong you are. Most women are not built like this. And you would look so hot with short hair. You are such a stud.” Reimi reached one arm around again, finding a nipple.

  Maji’s body cried out for more touch, to be driven to release by the luscious woman pressed up against her. But she couldn’t let her under false pretenses. “Stop,” she gasped.

  “Are you all right?” Reimi asked.

  Maji turned as far as she could within the close space and tight embrace. She leaned her forehead into the side of Reimi’s head. “You are a wonderful woman, and you deserve to have exactly what you want in a partner. But what you want, that’s just not me. Not full-time, not all the way, not like you want.”

  “No one is exactly right. Believe me, I have looked. The internet brings many interesting women to my doorstep. All are nice in their own way. But you cannot expect to live on an island, with family obligations, and reel in exactly the right fish.”

  Maji nearly laughed. “She’s out there. Try being more specific about what you want. You deserve someone who is heart and soul what you are looking for. Help her find you.” She gave Reimi a sideways kiss. “I may be strong, but I’m not a stud at heart. We wouldn’t work for long.”

  “You didn’t have a good time the other night?” Reimi’s lower lip trembled.

  “Oh yes, ma’am, I did.” More than Maji could explain. “It was wonderful, just not who I am every day. You understand?”

  Reimi nodded and unwound herself. She silently helped Maji out of the tub, wrapping her in a fluffy towel. “Tomorrow you go back to playing the role Erlea pays you for. But tonight you are my hero. And I want to make you feel good, the way you like. One night, and then we are even, as friends should be.”

  That was hard to argue with. Reimi’s hands and mouth were persuasive, too. Maji gave up the battle and surrendered. When Reimi pushed her down onto the bed’s soft comforter and sank to the floor before her, pulling Maji’s hips to her, Maji just closed her eyes and let go. Reimi took her on a slow ride, building gradually like their kisses earlier, until Maji felt like she was floating and then dissolving.

  Reimi climbed up and pulled her up to the pillows, then held her as she drifted into sleep.

  * * *

  “No,” Maji said, trying to break out of the dream. She felt a hand stroke her cheek and opened her eyes. “Oh, fuck. You okay?”

  Reimi stretched languorously and pressed her lips to Maji’s clavicle. “I feel marvelous. But I should go soon. I must be home when Mama wakes. And you should sleep in.”

  Maji turned toward her, tipping Reimi onto her back and claiming her mouth. Reimi returned the kiss with hunger and Maji slid one hand along her arm, her shoulder, down her torso and belly. She stopped with her fingertips in the tiny curls over her mons, resisting the urge to continue. “May I?”

  Reimi responded by pressing her hips up, her legs falling open wider. She wove the fingers of one hand into the hair at the back of Maj
i’s head and used the other to hold Maji close.

  Maji curled her hand down and inside Reimi, shifting her top leg to capture both of Reimi’s, pulling them tight around the hand caught between them. Then she kissed Reimi hard, thrumming her fingers against the soft pad inside and rolling Reimi’s nipple between her fingertips at the same time.

  Reimi sucked Maji’s tongue deep into her mouth, moving her pinned hips in rhythm with Maji’s fingers. Then she released Maji from the kiss abruptly, throwing her head back and arching up against her. Maji kept the rhythm up, pressing her hips down to intensify the connection. Reimi’s ragged breathing hitched and she let out a guttural cry, clinging to Maji as her whole body undulated.

  Maji kissed her softly as Reimi relaxed, slowly stroking Maji’s face and back and humming in satisfaction. “Thank you,” Maji whispered.

  * * *

  Erlea woke with an arm draped over someone. Someone who smelled like pretty flowers. She opened her eyes a crack, and there Celeste was, as beautiful asleep as awake. On top of the covers and clothed.

  What happened? This was not her room. Erlea turned her head and a wave of nausea hit. She thrashed at the covers, wanting to bolt for the bathroom.

  “Trash can,” Celeste said.

  Erlea spotted it, held it under her face, and spewed a stream of bitter liquid. Her stomach cramped, her abs aching. She must have retched a lot already. In front of Celeste?

  “Slow breaths,” Celeste said a moment later, crouching nearby and wiping Erlea’s face with a warm, damp cloth. “Let’s try a little water.”

  Erlea sat up with help, the sheet sliding off her bare skin. Why was she topless?

  “Here,” Celeste said, tugging the sheet up. “Can you sip this?”

  Erlea reached for the glass, missed, and let Celeste steady her until she gripped it properly. She took a cautious sip. It tasted wonderful, so cool and fresh.

  “Slow down.” Celeste gently took the cup from her. “Or it will just come back up.”

  Erlea swatted her hand away. “Stop being so nice to me. You were right.”

  “About?”

  “All of it.” Erlea groaned and put her head in her hands, pulling her knees up. “How can I say I’m sorry to you and then do this again? But I was sorry, and I tried fake drinking like Maji, and it was going great, and…Oh God, I can’t even remember. How many shots did I do?”