“Who are your clients? If they like my work, I can’t believe I haven’t met them before. After all, there are few artists who deal in this area of erotic art.” Derek’s pulse raced. At last he was catching a break.
He’d been an agent with the Drug Enforcement Agency for twenty years before starting his own business, Hawk Investigations, five years ago. For months he had devoted most of his energies, and a big chunk of his investigative agency’s, into making contact with Lilly and Sylvester Oglethorpe. He could swear Peter was about to give him access to them.
When his former boss approached him about consulting on a job, he’d hesitated, wondering why the government needed him when they had far greater resources at their disposal. Experience and non-accountability, Jim Taylor told him with a smile. The smile was what convinced Derek to take on the contract.
That, and a chance to end one of the largest influxes of heroine and other opiates in the Bay area. Being undercover again had been fun, but now the real reason he’d hired back on with his previous employers was at hand, his introduction to the Oglethorpes.
“They live as recluses when they’re in the States,” Peter explained. “They have an amazing but remote mansion north of the Bay. In fact, you get there by boat or helicopter or not at all. Sylvester Oglethorpe and his wife Lilly are my clients. As you will see when you get there, the décor in the house has a bit of erotic effect but the owner wants to enhance it.”
Peter seemed to study him to see if the names meant anything, so Derek kept a neutral expression. Shaking his head he said, “I’m sure I’ve never met them.”
Peter looked satisfied with his answer. “Not surprising. As I said, they aren’t social and they’re gone a good bit of the time.”
“Travel a lot, do they?”
“Their yacht would be better described as a ship, and they sail to the Far East frequently.” He waved his hand. “I have no idea what their business is, but whatever it is, it’s lucrative. Wish I had a piece of it.” He sipped his coffee which the waitress had just brought.
“The Far East? Like Japan and China?”
Peter looked at Derek carefully. “I don’t ask questions of my clients. I decorate for them.”
Derek shrugged. “Idle curiosity. I look forward to meeting Mr. and Mrs. Oglethorpe. Tell me more about this event the invitations are for.”
A moment passed before Peter answered. “It’s a masquerade. A charity event, but their parties are never what they seem on the surface. Be prepared for some surprise activities, wild but in good taste, of course. This will give you a chance to see the rooms I mentioned in our previous meeting and to get an impression of Sylvester and Lilly. Then we’ll talk again.”
After another sip of coffee, he stood. “Will you be escorting the luscious lady to the masquerade?”
Derek stood, too. “No, I have another date in mind.”
Peter slapped Derek’s arm. “You artists. Babe magnets, all of you. Tell her goodbye for me, will you?”
“Will do.” They shook hands and Derek watched Peter walk away. He folded the portfolio of his work and sat to finish his coffee before going to find Thia.
Peter’s open interest in Thia disturbed him, though he couldn’t put a finger on why. He was glad the chance of Thia’s running into Peter would be slim. Somehow, he didn’t think she was ready for the kind of appetite he sensed Peter had for women.
He put aside thoughts of Peter and Thia and concentrated on his upcoming meeting with the Oglethorpes. According to Jim Taylor, their frequent trips to the eastern ports of Russia always corresponded with a major delivery of heroine and other opiate derivatives in San Francisco. Their contact in Russia had photographic evidence of drugs being taken onto the ship and Sylvester Oglethorpe meeting with the head of the operation. The ship had been examined several times, but nothing had ever been found. The DEA needed a man on the inside, and Derek Hawkins, supposed eccentric painter of seductive artwork, was just their man.
“Speaking of seductive works of art,” Derek murmured to himself, “it’s time to find Thia.”
Chapter 5
Thia joined Derek on the helm, closing the sliding door to the salon behind her. Derek piloted the large craft out of Monterey Bay. She settled near him on the bench seat while he controlled the craft and the powerful engines sent rippling vibrations through her.
When they reached open water, Derek set the GPS autopilot, and held out his hand. “Let’s go outside. It’s a little cool, but the view is better. I’ll monitor our progress through the window.”
She took his hand and stood. “But there’s a lot here to keep up with. What happens if something goes wrong and no one’s watching?”
“All of the critical readings have alarms. Don’t worry.”
“This boat is amazing.”
“I like it, too.” His smile was slow and devastating. “As well as other things.”
Lost for a moment in that smile, Thia said, “It’s a little chilly now that the sun’s gone down. I may need my pants and jacket.”
“I’ll get you a blanket.” With a light kiss to her forehead he moved off, returning quickly with a soft plaid throw.
“Thank you.” She followed him out to the padded seating facing the shore. She pulled her knees up and braced her heels on the edge of the seat. Derek sat beside her, stretching out his long legs. He draped the blanket over her then wrapped his arm around her, providing more heat than the blanket.
She gazed at the shore. “This is beautiful. I’m glad we’re going back at night.”
“Me, too, although I’m not sure I’m ready to go all the way back.” His arm tightened around her.
Spots of brightness dotted the shore and beams of light moved where cars followed roads hugging the twisting cliffs. With the boat’s steady movement and her head resting on Derek’s shoulder, Thia was about to fall into a light doze when she was brought up short by Derek’s voice.
“Tell me about yourself.”
She laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“Well, we’ve had sex with each other several times—”
“Not enough times,” he said with another squeeze.
“That’s my point. Now you’re asking about me? Does it really make a difference?”
“Sure it does. You probably won’t believe this, but I don’t normally pick up a woman, take her back to the studio and fuck her till she screams. I’ve never asked a woman to come on the boat with me.”
She sat up and curled around to see him. “Really?”
“You’re the first.” He tucked her back under his arm and against his shoulder.
Thia sighed. “Well, ask away.”
“Where are you from?”
“Ohio originally. I moved to San Francisco with my husband about fifteen years ago.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s been dead a year now. That’s why my assistant thinks I need to get out and start meeting people.” She snorted a laugh. “I don’t think she had you in mind.”
“As long as you do.”
“Oh. When you say things like that it just ties me up inside.”
He was quiet for only a few beats. “Does it? Tie you up, is an interesting choice of words.”
Something in the tone of his voice struck her as off but when she turned to look up at him, his expression showed nothing amiss.
“Were you happy being married?”
She thought for a few moments, wondering what to say. What had started out so promising had ended badly, but she was tired of dwelling on the negative.
“It could have been your classic love story. Henry and I had known each other as children—had been best friends through elementary school in fact. We spent all of our time together, and then when we were ten his parents moved away. I was heartbroken for the longest time.”
“But like most children, you got over it.”
“Yes. But fate threw us together again, at Ohio State. One morning in my second semester
, Henry walked into my math class. Though I hadn’t seen him in eight years, I knew him immediately. When he finally recognized me and threw his arms around me, the girl with him wasn’t happy.”
“Ouch!”
“Yeah, she’d been his high school sweetheart and followed him to Ohio State. She thought she had rights to him. But within a couple of weeks, we’d taken up where we left off, doing things together, laughing, sharing. It was great. The next year, we found a little apartment and lived off-campus. Those were some of the best days of my life. We had not a care in the world. With our parents paying for everything all we had to do was study a bit and have lots of fun.”
“And you stayed best friends through it all?”
Thia chuckled, but she suddenly worried about telling this man so much. Not so much because of what he’d think of her but more because it showed him a slice of her, of who she really was, when her time with Derek was best kept separate from her real world. Too late now, Pandora!
“Best friends who were in love. God, we chased each other around the apartment at the slightest provocation. We went at it like rabbits back then. And when we graduated, getting married was one of the first things on our minds.”
“It does sound like a fairy tale.” Under the blanket, his hand lifted her shirt and teased her nipple.
Just his touch was enough to make her pussy clench and moisten. It had been like that with Henry, but then she’d loved him. Until a couple of weeks ago, when she’d gone out looking to get fucked, she’d always believed such an immediate physical response would have to be accompanied with feelings of love. All the concepts of her own sexuality were changing. Like the plates floating on the Earth’s core caused earthquakes when they shifted, the idea of sex without love was causing cataclysmic results in her well-being. She wasn’t at all sure she liked it.
Thia sat up, which removed her body from Derek’s. “There was no happy ever after for us. Henry died.” She wouldn’t tell Derek how hard things had been between her and Henry for years before his death, how he’d destroyed her love with his affairs and secrecy. That was her pain alone.
“How did he die?”
“He was a pilot. After visiting a client in Los Angeles, he was flying home and crashed into the ocean.”
Derek took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” She squeezed his hand back, giving him a small smile, grateful and a little surprised she didn’t feel the need to cry. Except for Henry’s memorial service, she hadn’t shed a tear, but talking tonight had been different.
For one thing, Derek wasn’t like her friends, tiptoeing around Henry’s name or his death. For another, he’d asked quiet questions as though he was interested and at the same time made her recognize she was alive, in more than the mortal versus dead sense. Alive in the womanly sense. A tremble ran through her.
Derek met her gaze. “Are you cold?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Let’s go inside. I’ll make some coffee.”
Thia donned her terry cloth pants and jacket while Derek was in the galley. She was chilled, but more, the clothes provided an extra layer of protection, hiding the strip of skin at her stomach. Not that a layer of clothes would stop Derek if he wanted her. Or stop her if he wanted her, she admitted.
If Derek noticed her change in clothing when he entered the salon with mugs of hot caffeine, he didn’t indicate it. He handed her a cup and she wrapped her hands around it, absorbing its warmth.
“I know that town,” she said, gesturing to the shore. “We seem to be going back faster than when we went south.”
Derek nodded. “We are, actually. I set a leisurely speed this morning. I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready for bed, and I wanted to reach the cove where we’ll moor before it got too late.”
“Oh.” She sipped and wondered what the night would bring. Would Derek allow her to use the stateroom where he’d stored her bag? Did she even want to? As much as her emotions were in a turmoil over him and what he made her body feel, this was the first night she’d talked about Henry to anyone, the first night she’d let someone in on what they’d meant to each other at the beginning. The first time she’d faced that the love she’d felt for him, hadn't been returned—not in the same way. Or the lust she thought she’d never feel with anyone but him, he’d experienced with lots of different women.
Tonight, with Derek, she’d come face to face with the fact her Prince Charming wasn’t at all what she’d built in her mind—a man with a mid-life crisis who’d made a few mistakes. No, for a long time before he died, he’d been no Prince at all, except in her mind. Tonight she wanted someone to hold her, to get her past this first blush of discovery. When they docked in San Francisco, she’d say goodbye to Derek. In a way, goodbye would stop the Earth’s plates from shifting and return her to the life in which she felt comfortable. Love and marriage went together with sex. Wanton wasn’t her style.
But that was tomorrow. Tonight she needed the closeness of a man, and she found herself hoping Derek would oblige her.
Without realizing it, Thia had finished her coffee. Derek took the empty mug and gave her a rueful smile. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad feelings.”
“Not bad feelings, just memories. I’m fine.” She nodded toward the cup. “Thanks, I’m warmer now.”
In a very male way, he studied the length of her and frowned. “You should be warmer in all those clothes.”
“Uh-huh. But the coffee helped, so thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He set the cups in holders beside the bench seat then stepped to the bridge. “We’re almost to my friend’s place. Are you tired after all this fresh air and your shopping?”
She brushed her hair off her face. “I’m ready to go to bed.”
He turned and studied her. Smiling broadly, he went to her. “Me, too.” Bending, he pressed his lips to hers. She tried to deepen the kiss, but he broke it off. “Time to start tonight’s game.”
She hid her disappointment. Her pussy was wet and her body flamed, and he wanted to play a game?
“Pretend—” he winked, “—I’m a pirate and you’re a fair lady I’ve kidnapped.”
“Oh!” Her cheeks burned with exhilaration. It was that kind of game.
“We’re sailing into my secret cove. That means you’re blindfolded, or else how can I be sure the location will remain secret?”
“Don’t you want me to help you anchor the boat?”
“Not this time. This time I want you to think about what you want me to do to you after the boat is secured.”
“Oh.” Her voice was soft, hesitant. “Okay.” He removed two cloths from a drawer and came back to her.
She stood quietly as he wrapped one cloth around her head, covering her eyes and fading her world to black. Cool air licked her skin as Derek removed her jacket.
“Pirates’ captives don’t wear so many clothes,” he whispered in her ear.
She surrendered to his will as he lifted her arms and removed her shirt. Excitement built as the cool air roused her exposed nipples to stiff peaks. She fought the reflex to resist when he crossed her wrists over her stomach and looped the cloth around them. He pulled the ends to her back, where he tied them off, keeping her hands tight against her stomach. Her heart pounded, blinded, naked from the waist up and knowing she was at his mercy.
Moisture beaded her inner thighs. Oh my God, I’m so wet.
As she had the thought, her pants, shorts and panties slid down her legs. Derek nuzzled the vee between her thighs.
“You smell great,” he murmured. He held her hand so she could keep her balance stepping out of her pants. “I love that you didn’t wear a bra all afternoon.”
She was consumed with the sensation of his light kisses traveling up her body, across her shoulder and along the column of her neck.
“All through lunch I wanted to pull you on my lap and suck your tits.”
“You did?” The deliciously decadent image thrille
d her.
“Willpower is hell, sweetheart, but anticipation is part of the fun.” His mouth and tongue worked their magic. She moaned with need.
Blindfolded, his touch flooded her senses. She tilted her head to give him more access and he took it, nibbling and sucking her sensitive skin, consuming her senses with tingling excitement.
“Sit here while I get us in the cove and secured to the buoy. When I get back you can tell me what you want me to do to your body. Disobey at your own risk.” With that, he moved away.
Thia felt a gentle tug as the engines switched from auto to manual control. They slowed, making a sweeping turn to the right—starboard—before ending at an idle. Wouldn’t Derek be pleased she remembered her boating terminology from the morning? The salon door opened, allowing a brisk breeze to bite her. In seconds, the door closed and she was left alone.
Her mind raced. What would he do? She’d never been blindfolded before or bound—Henry’s sexual tastes had run to vanilla rather than double fudge almond crunch. Even chasing each other around their tiny student apartment had usually ended in the missionary position. Sometimes she’d just wanted more.
When the salon door opened again, she held her head high and welcomed what the cool air did to her body. Excitement pebbled her nipples and caused her pussy to weep. Derek laughed, low and sexy.
“Your tits are calling to me,” he said from close by. The engines died and the silence deafened her. “What did you decide?
“I want you to fuck me.”
“That’s all you came up with? There should be more.”
“Like what?”
“Too late to ask now. I told you I was a pirate. Do you think I’m so boring a pirate all I do is ‘fuck’ women I’ve kidnapped?”
“Wait. You told me to sit here quietly, and I did.”
“I told you to sit and think of what I should do to you. I’ve seen your eyes light up when looking at my paintings. I know the kinds of things you imagine, and a simple roll in the hay isn’t what you should have in mind.”
She Shouldnt, But She Will Page 7