“I want you inside me,” Heather said urgently, and the words unleashed Chase’s restraint. She pushed Heather against the shower wall and thrust two fingers inside her, penetrating her slowly, as Heather moaned and clung to her, hands locked around her neck.
“More,” Heather murmured, and she pushed three fingers into her, still fucking her slowly, edging deeper with each thrust.
Heather leaned her head back against the wall, her pupils wide and dark, her face displaying her ecstasy. She was never so breathtakingly beautiful as at that moment, and Chase fought to keep from coming just from the view. Their breathing became one, jagged and fast, as Heather’s hand pushed against hers, urging her even deeper.
“So good…” Heather rocked against her hand, stroke for stroke, surrendering completely to the driving sensations.
“What do you want?” Chase asked.
“Come with me,” Heather replied. “I’m so close.” Her hand slipped between their bodies and Chase opened her legs eagerly, so painfully ready for Heather’s delivering touch she could barely breathe.
As Heather pushed into her, Chase shuddered from the joy of it as they rocked together, slowly matching strokes, gazing deep into each other’s eyes.
“I want to see you come,” Heather said breathily.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she replied, before claiming Heather in a searing kiss, their tongues matching the slow, insistent rhythm of their hands.
Chase was lost—immersed in a wellspring of overpowering stimuli—the heady scent of their mutual arousal, the passion in Heather’s eyes, the excitement of her thrusts into Heather’s welcoming warmth, the pulsing of her own clit. Too much. Too much.
“I’m going to come,” she told Heather, unable to prevent the crest from overtaking her.
Heather nodded and let go, her eyes never leaving Chase’s, and they climaxed together in a shattering crescendo that left both struggling to breathe.
Spent, they rested beneath the spray with their heads on each other’s shoulder, clinging together along the lengths of their bodies. The water was still warm, but she couldn’t stop shaking.
“Are you cold?” Heather asked, enfolding her even tighter.
“No. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not cold.” She turned off the water and took Heather by the hand to lead her out of the shower. Snatching one of the large, plush towels from the rack, she dried Heather off first, paying extra attention to her breasts, before toweling herself off.
Chase was drying her back, with the towel wrapped around herself, when Heather grabbed the two ends of the towel and dragged her, cocoon-like, into the bedroom. Once there, Heather whisked the towel away and shoved her playfully onto the bed.
“Is it bad that I want you again?” Heather smiled, her eyes shining with desire.
She reached for her and pulled her down on top of her. “Very,” she replied, as she enfolded Heather in her arms. “But I’m a big fan of bad.”
An hour later, they lay spooning, Chase embracing Heather from behind. She traced her finger down Heather’s shoulder to her thigh, delighting in the trembling it evoked. She was tired but wanted to savor the moment, the feeling of peace. Peace with her past, herself, and the present. She wished she’d never have to let go of the contentment, but if all she had with Heather was tonight, she wanted the memory to last forever.
She had fallen for Regina Stellari, but her feelings and intentions had been mostly about getting the girl out of her dysfunctional environment and away from her father. The young girl was infatuated with her, and the sex was shy and experimental, with Chase taking the lead to please and teach her.
Up until tonight, she hadn’t known or even understood the difference between sex and making love. If Heather disappeared tomorrow in some relocation program and Chase never saw her again, she would forever be grateful for having learned to appreciate the difference, even if that meant never again being satisfied with cheap imitations of what sex could be like.
Only one thing bothered her right now. Only one obstacle remained between her and complete peace, and that was what Heather thought about her need to pay for sex. She kissed Heather’s shoulder and Heather nestled closer into her.
“This feels good.” Heather said. “Very good.”
“Too good.”
Heather rolled onto her back and looked at her. “Does that scare you?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
“Me, too.”
“You first.” Chase kissed her.
“I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and regret tonight.”
“Why?” Chase asked.
“Because…” Heather turned her head away. “I know it’s only about now.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I’m being realistic. You know what I’ve done, and my past doesn’t make for romantic endings.”
She tenderly turned Heather’s face so she could look at her. “Is that what you’d like…with me?”
“Look at us, Landis. You buy sex and I sell it. How screwed up are we?”
She dropped back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Neither talked or stirred for a long time.
“I did it because I was a coward,” she finally said. “I thought if I bought sex then no one would get hurt.”
“Plenty of women out there want the same uncomplicated, superficial fun for an evening and nothing more. You could have turned to them. Why pay for it?”
“It’s myself I didn’t trust. I didn’t want to risk feeling anything at all for them.”
“Why is that so bad?”
“A long time ago, someone I cared for was shot and killed. It took me a long time to get over it, and after that, I promised myself to never get emotionally involved. One-night-stands imply talking with someone, getting their name, and sharing a dinner and drink. That was already more than I wanted to deal with. I started seeing call girls because it was simple, fast, and anonymous. I didn’t have to share anything with them, not even our names. They were there to…”
“Please you.”
“Yes.”
“Was it satisfying?”
“I thought it was. Until tonight.”
Heather turned to cuddle in her embrace.
“I don’t know what to do now, after tonight, after…you,” Chase admitted.
“This could be going nowhere.” Heather kissed her fiercely and cupped her groin.
Chase grinned. “Then let’s go there one more time.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Next morning, November 27
Chase roused to Heather’s finger caressing her lips. When she opened her eyes, she found Heather gazing down at her, hair tousled and looking incredibly sexy. “Good morning.” She smiled, unbelievably content.
“Hi.” Heather kissed her. “Your phone vibed off the nightstand.”
“Damn. What time is it?” She sat up. Jack was right. When Heather was around, she forgot to even casually check the time.
“A bit past nine thirty.”
She picked up the cell and dialed Jack. “What’s up?”
“I called five minutes ago, but—”
“I didn’t answer, I’m aware. Any reason you called?” She didn’t try to hide her irritation.
“You’re in a foul mood for someone who just got some,” Jack said cheerfully. “Nothing’s wrong, I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Everything’s fine.”
“Heather?”
She turned to look at her. “She looks beautiful even in the morning.”
“Can’t say the same for my roomie.”
“Is he still cuffed?”
“You mean again. Had to take him to the toilet.”
“That must have been exciting.”
“A genuine thrill, especially since I had to place him on the bowl.”
She laughed.
“Told him I’d castrate him with a blunt knife if he ever mentioned it.”
“I’ll
see you in a little.” She laughed again and hung up.
“I guess it’s almost showtime.” Heather kissed her shoulder. “Are you nervous?”
“Normally, no, but I know how much this means to Jack and Cass—she’s a colleague, one we already buried once. None of us want to go through that again, and Jack won’t survive it a second time.”
“Buried her once?”
“When Rózsa’s lab blew up, Cass was in there. We thought she died in the explosion, but it turned out Rózsa had kidnapped her.”
“So you gave her a proper funeral and everything?”
“The organization did. Jack was about to end her life when my bosses found her.”
“Thank God they did.”
“She’s been self-destructive ever since. Smoking, drinking. She hardly eats or sleeps. Cass is everything to her.”
“What happened to her face?”
“That’s her story to tell.”
“Fair enough.” Heather pulled her back down on the bed with her.
“You really are painfully beautiful.” Chase kissed her and was aroused in seconds.
“I love the way you touch me.”
“I love the way you react when I do.” She enfolded Heather in her arms and rolled them over until Heather was lying on top of her. Their mouths met in renewed passion, but just as she thrust a muscled thigh between Heather’s legs, her cell went off again. She fumbled for it, frowning with annoyance. “What now?”
“Rózsa called.” Jack’s voice was urgent and businesslike. Her irritation vanished. “Said Dario should have his man ready in an hour at the Hammam Eden on the Boulevard Garibaldi.”
“Hammam?”
“Turkish bath.”
“I know what that is.”
“Be here ASAP. We need to prepare.”
“Give me two.” She hung up. “Rózsa called,” she told Heather as she got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. “We have to be there in an hour. Damn, my clothes are soaked.” She grabbed the hotel robe. “Jack is going to love this.”
Heather got up, too. “What do you want me to do?”
“Stay with Dario. He’ll be chained the whole time so he can’t hurt you, and I’ll give you the key. But please—”
“Don’t say it,” Heather said, smiling up at her. “I won’t listen to him again.”
Chase kissed her. “Can you be at the room in ten?”
“Yes.”
* * *
After Jack hung up with Chase, she gave Dario his cell. “Make the call to your delivery man. On speakerphone, and keep it to the bare minimum. Try anything, and I’ll stick that phone down your throat.”
Dario watched her warily as he waited for the connection to go through. “The Hamman Eden on the Boulevard Garibaldi. 11 a.m. You’re to leave the money in a small black duffel in the men’s steam room.”
Jack waited only until the guy confirmed the information before she took the cell from Dario and disconnected. Then she put it back into her pocket. “What’s your delivery man look like?” she asked Dario.
“Big guy,” he answered. “Dark hair, wears it in a ponytail.”
She glanced up at the wall clock. “Heather will be here momentarily and will stay with you while we’re gone.” She loomed over him with a wolfish smile. “Should I spell out what body parts I’ll carve out of you if you try to pull any more of your bullshit with her?”
“Not necessary.” Dario tried to appear unconcerned, but he shrank back into his chair and wouldn’t look at her.
“Peachy.”
* * *
Thirty minutes before the scheduled drop-off, Chase and Jack sipped coffee inside a café across from the hammam, to plot their strategy as they watched people come and go from the Turkish bath. Chase had to force herself to push aside thoughts of Heather so she could focus entirely on their mission.
“This is it,” Jack said, more to herself than Chase, “the day I see Cass again.”
She drummed her fingers impatiently on the tabletop.
“It sure is.” She hoped she sounded confident.
“How was your evening?” Jack made a sad attempt not to smile.
“It was…great.” She sighed. “She’s great.”
“Going to see her again, when this is over?”
“I hope so.”
“That’s refreshing. What happened to your theory of screw ’em and dump ’em?”
“It was never a theory. It was a defense mechanism.”
“One you apparently don’t need with her?”
“I always thought my life was too screwed up to inflict on anyone else.”
“Until you found someone with the same screwed-up life.”
She smiled. “Who knew all it took was someone as broken?”
“Maybe a new angle for your novels. Perhaps it’s time Emily saved Landor from the devil and his self-persecution. Emily is too perfect, and even if perfection wasn’t an illusion, it would be a boring trait.”
“I never wanted Emily damaged.”
“It’s time you threw some shit at her. Otherwise Landor will never feel confident enough to reveal who he really is. Emily will continue to love a mortal, a lie…and not the truth.”
“What if she can’t deal with who Landor is?”
“She won’t. Not until he accepts it himself.”
She turned to look outside. Jack’s words made her feel transparent and vulnerable, feelings she’d put aside years ago.
“Only when you accept who you are will you get what you need…Landis.”
“Emily save Landor,” she mumbled to herself.
“Heather doesn’t have to be perfect. She just has to be perfect for you and vice versa.”
“Is that the case with you and Cass?”
Jack’s expression darkened. “I doubt Cass will ever be the same after this.”
“Will that be a problem?”
“Only if she ever stops loving me.”
“After today, she’ll never let you go.”
Jack frowned and stared out the window. “And I’ll never let anything happen to her again,” she said, her voice breaking.
She looked down at her coffee cup. Her friend was miserable, and for the first time, she realized that Jack felt responsible for what had happened to Cass. She saw no point in trying to reason with Jack’s misplaced guilt right now; she was too stubborn and this wasn’t the right moment. “Please, don’t try to be a hero. Wait for me before you decide to do anything.”
“I’m not exactly a beginner. I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m anxious to get Cass back, too, but I know you can get unpredictable when it’s personal.”
“I won’t do anything stupid, Landis.”
“Are you nervous?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah.”
“Good. It means you won’t do anything stupid.”
Jack smiled. “You’re quoting me. I’m not nervous about the job. I am about seeing Cass again.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but there is a chance Cass is…” It had crossed her mind many times, but she’d never dared share this with Jack.
Jack’s smile disappeared. “She’s not dead. I know she isn’t.”
“Please try to take that scenario into consideration.”
“I can’t. Won’t. She’s somewhere out there, waiting for me.”
Chase didn’t press. She checked her watch. “So we’re clear on our positions. I’ll take the front.”
“And I the back.”
“Chances are Rózsa will be disguised.”
“He’ll be the one leaving with a small black duffel,” Jack said.
“Or whatever he replaces it with.”
“I’ll follow him on foot until you pick me up by car.”
“Eyes only, Jack. If you stop him or do anything to alert him, we’re screwed.”
Jack nodded. “I realize that. If we catch him, he knows he’s a dead man walking anyway. He’ll have no reason at all to tell
us where Cass is.”
“And by the time we find her, if we ever do, it’ll be too late.”
“I realize, I said.” Jack was getting irritated, but Chase had to make sure she didn’t act on anger.
“Time to turn on the earpieces.”
Both switched on their tiny mic/audio pieces and placed them in their ears.
“Good to go.” Jack got up and headed for the door as Chase threw a few Euros on the table.
Not long after, she took up her own position, casually leaning against a kiosk in front of the hammam. She was pretending to be absorbed in a French magazine when she spotted Dario’s goon. “If Dario’s description is right, his guy is about to enter. He’s holding a small black gym bag.”
“No sign of Rózsa here,” Jack replied from the back entrance.
“He shouldn’t be long. I don’t see anyone who looks like him going in. So many are coming and going at the moment.”
* * *
Andor Rózsa smiled as he checked himself one last time in the window of the antique shop, four doors down from the meeting place. He’d shaved his beard and mustache, cut his dark hair to near stubble and dyed it blond, and added a pair of cheap reading glasses to complete the look. Dressed in plain black trousers and a T-shirt he’d bought in a harbor gift shop, he looked radically different from the photos that had appeared worldwide during the pandemic he’d unleashed. The camera around his neck completed the I’m just another tourist image he was going for.
He’d chosen the meeting place with care. Though he didn’t know Dario well, he knew him enough to suspect he’d have some game up his sleeve. People like Dario didn’t just give money away, and the man considered him a liability. But he had to take the risk. The fifty grand wouldn’t last long, and he had no means to make any himself anytime soon. The payment he was about to receive from Dario would at least ensure a comfortable life. He had no other options. The people who’d promised to return his millions in exchange for his prisoner were all excuses and delays; they apparently weren’t concerned enough with getting the girl back to find a way to make it happen.
Ideally, he would have sent his aide Patrik to the meeting in his stead, but he’d been arrested back in Budapest, and Andor couldn’t afford the luxury of trusting anyone else. They’d either recognize him and turn him in—the price the FBI had on his head was one he’d never be able to match—or they’d take their chances with whatever was in the bag and run.
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