Wild Gold

by Tripp Ellis

Dita climbed out of my lap, found her frilly bra, and put it back on. "I need to change. Meet me around back in 10 minutes," she said with a wink.

  She turned around and sauntered toward the dressing rooms.

  Jack tossed me the keys to his Porsche. "I'm gonna stay here for a while. I'll take a cab and pick up the car later."

  "I'll leave the keys under the settee in the aft deck," I said.

  "Don't wreck my car," he warned, thoroughly preoccupied by a set of triple Ds.

  I climbed out of my seat and strolled across the club. Jaco waved as I left.

  The green Porsche was parked at the curb a block down. I climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked up the engine. It rumbled in anticipation of things to come. Like a caged tiger ready to strike, the flat six was ferocious. I put the car into gear and launched from the curb, then pulled down the back alley behind the club where Thunder Rain had been murdered not too long ago. I waited for a few moments with the top down, listening to music. The long shadows of the mercury vapor light overhead bathed the alley in an amber glow.

  Dita emerged from the club wearing sweatpants and sneakers, her black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes widened as she took in the exotic car. She scurried around to the passenger side and slipped in. She pulled the door shut with a firm clunk. The car was engineered to perfection.

  "Nice car!"

  "It's Jack's."

  "Jack must do well for himself," Dita said.

  "He's made some good investments."

  "I hope you don't mind the sweats,” Dita said. "It's what you get. Besides, I won't be wearing them long," she said with a lascivious glint in her eyes.

  The sound of the engine echoed off the alley walls as I rolled out of the narrow passageway. My foot was heavy on the gas, and the acceleration pinned Dita against the leather.

  She seemed to enjoy it.

  When I pulled into the parking lot at Diver Down, I hopped out of the car, rounded the front end, and got Dita's door.

  "A true gentleman.” She kissed me on the cheek as she stood up, a token of gratitude.

  The kiss on the cheek turned into something more. Her lips slid to meet mine, and we collided in a passionate embrace. Her slick tongue danced across mine. Our bodies pressed against each other. Though I had seen every curve of her body in the club, I was eager to explore it firsthand.

  We fooled around in the parking lot for a few minutes. I got the impression that she was totally game for working things out right there. It was tempting, but I was afraid we might dent the hood of the exotic sports car. And I don't think Madison would take too kindly to me getting freaky in the parking lot of the restaurant.

  I slid my hand underneath the waistband of Dita’s sweatpants and grabbed a mound of her sweet cheeks. My fingers explored her hills and valleys, and breathy moans filled my ears. I quickly decided we needed to take the party back to the boat.

  I took her hand, and we strolled down the dock to the Vivere. I wasn't expecting what we found.

  Karina sat in the lounge of the aft deck.

  "Girlfriend?" Dita asked, curiously.

  "Absolutely not," I said.

  "It's okay," Dita said. “I'm down for a three way. She's cute."

  "Sorry. She lost her boat privileges," I said.

  Karina made a pouty face. "Aw, is that the way it's going to be?"

  "I have a rule against taken women."

  "That didn't seem to stop you the other night," Karina said.

  "I didn't know I was breaking it," I said. "What are you doing here?"

  "I had a chance to get out, and I thought I'd stop by and explain things."

  "Things are pretty self-explanatory."

  "It's not exactly as it seems."

  My face washed with skepticism and a little bit of anger. I can deal with a lot of things, dishonesty is not one of them. An omission of a key fact is pretty much the same as lying.

  "Maybe we should do this another time?" Dita said.

  "Now is the perfect time," I smiled. "Karina was just leaving."

  Karina frowned.

  She stood up and strolled across the gangway and joined us on the dock. "Maybe you'll let me explain some time?"

  I shrugged. "Maybe not."

  She looked sad. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you."

  She spun around and sauntered down the dock.

  "She's cute," Dita said. "Are you sure you want to let her get away?"

  I looked at Dita and smiled. "Positive. I have all the cuteness I need right here."

  The little goth queen smiled.

  I smacked her ass, playfully as she started across the gangway. A delightful peep escaped her lips, and she looked back at me with naughty eyes.

  22

  Buddy instantly captured Dita's heart as we entered the salon. She knelt down and loved on the little Jack Russell. He was a chick magnet. Buddy soaked up the attention. The minute she stopped petting him, he put his paws on her and nosed for more affection. He suckered her into more petting for a moment.

  Dita finally stood up and glanced around the salon in awe. "Impressive. You want to tell me how a cop affords this?"

  "Long story."

  She looked at me with a lascivious sparkle in her eyes. "Are you a dirty cop?"

  Her sultry voice lingered in the air.

  "I got you out of trouble, didn't I?" I said, playing along.

  She smiled. "And I am forever in your debt."

  Dita inched closer, lifted on her tiptoes, and planted her red lips against mine. We melted into one another, and our bodies collided. My hands traced the supple curves of her torso, and within moments I was helping her lift her sweatshirt over her head.

  She left the frilly lace garments at the club.

  This girl didn't need any support. Her taught young body defied gravity. My heart beat faster as I marveled at her form. My shorts grew snug.

  "I want to take a shower," Dita said. "I always feel gross after I leave the club.”

  I took her hand and led her down below deck to the master suite. I pulled the hatch closed behind us as we entered and left Buddy in the companionway. I didn't need an audience for this.

  Dita peeled off her sweatpants and stepped out of them, leaving them in a jumble on the deck.

  Damn she looked good!

  I pulled off my shirt, dropped my shorts, and followed her into the en suite. I twisted the shower nozzle and let the water get up to temperature. We occupied ourselves, exploring each other's body as steam began to fill the compartment.

  Her velvety tongue licked my ear, and she whispered naughty nothings. She licked her way down my neck, over my collarbone, and before I knew it she was on her knees.

  Wow!

  Just wow!

  She looked up at me with those seductive emerald eyes while she plied her craft. She had skills that would put a porn star to shame. Dita had the kind of talent that would make a man stop looking for other options.

  And that was just a teaser.

  We squeezed into the shower and frolicked in the hot water. Her body glistened as water beaded on her smooth skin. I grabbed handfuls of joy, and the snug compartment was like a pleasure palace. Breathy moans of ecstasy filled the en suite.

  The vampire queen had a gift.

  When we wore ourselves out, we lathered up with soap, washed off, then retired to my bunk. With her naked body wrapped around mine, we lay there basking in the ecstasy—my brain awash with pleasure chemicals.

  "You're kind of fun, for a cop," she said.

  "You're not so bad yourself."

  "I could be persuaded to do this again."

  “Could you?"

  "It wouldn't take much," she said, playfully.

  "What would it take?"

  "Just a simple text."

  "What would I have to say?" I asked, playing along.

  "I'm horny, come over. You know, something romantic like that."

  I chuckled. "I think I can manage that."

  "You better.
I haven't been fucked like that since… never!"

  A cocky grin curled on my face.

  "Don't get a big head," she cautioned.

  "Who me?" I asked, innocently.

  She rolled her eyes. "Please, you know what you've got. You can have any girl in this town."

  I shrugged, modestly.

  "I'm sure you've already had half of them."

  "I do okay," I understated.

  She chuckled.

  Dita rolled over and grabbed her purse from the nightstand. Her delicate fingers pulled out a joint and a lighter and she sparked it up.

  I arched a curious eyebrow.

  "You burn?"

  "I'm a cop. You can't smoke pot here?"

  Her brow twisted. "Please, it's just a joint."

  The cherry glowed as she took a hit and inhaled deeply. She blew out a cloud of sweet blue smoke that hovered in the air above the bed. "You know in this state, I could take you to jail for that."

  Her eyes brightened. "Oooh, so arrest me!"

  My eyes narrowed at her.

  "Pretty please, daddy. Put the handcuffs on. She extended her wrists, taunting me.

  I grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the drawer in the nightstand and slapped them on her wrists. I took the joint from her fingers and put it out in an empty drink glass on the nightstand.

  She lay on the bed face down, cuffed behind her back, her glorious pert ass arched into the air. "I've been a bad girl, daddy. Spank me."

  Those cuffs had certainly seen some action this week. Dita definitely deserved some form of punishment, which I was more than happy to dole out.

  23

  I was a little surprised the gothic beauty didn't melt in the morning sun. Her skin didn't sizzle, and her reflection did appear in the mirror. She may have been a night owl, but she wasn't a true vampire. She stretched and yawned like a cute little kitten. Her creamy skin looked like porcelain in the amber morning rays that blasted through the portholes. Dita looked just as good in the morning as she did the night before. She curled around me and nuzzled against my chest. With my arm around her, I stroked her delicate skin.

  Her hand tickled my abs, and it didn't take long for her to work her way south and start my engine. A moment later, her head was under the covers.

  This was definitely the way to wake up in the morning.

  We tumbled around the sheets for another hour, then finally crawled out of bed. I made us breakfast—ham and cheese omelettes, hash browns, and bacon. The air filled with the fresh scent of coffee. I dished the plates up and served Dita at the dining table.

  Dita crunched on a crispy strip of bacon. "You should come see me at the club tonight."

  "Something tells me you won't get much work done if I come see you tonight."

  "True, but it will be fun. And if I play my cards right, I may get another breakfast out of you." She smiled.

  "I think that's a definite possibility."

  "I mean, unless you have other plans…" she said, fishing.

  "I try not to make plans. That way nobody gets upset if they get broken."

  "I can dig it. No strings, no formal commitments. I won't expect you, but if I see you tonight, it will be a bonus."

  She smiled and crunched another strip of bacon in between bites of her omelette.

  Buddy stood by the table with wide eyes, praying for a morsel to fall on the deck.

  "You never did say how you afford a boat like this. Are you independently wealthy?"

  I laughed. "Maybe at one point in time. But that's all going down the tubes now."

  I told her about the movie deal with the studio, and how everything went south. "I may owe the studio $4.5 million if they win their lawsuit."

  Dita swallowed hard. "Shit, and I thought my phone bill was high last month." She paused for a moment. "It's okay. I’d still bang you if you were homeless. I'm not a gold-digger. Hell, I might even take you in. You might be handy to have around. And Lord knows, I’ve supported more than my fair share of deadbeat boyfriends." She thought about it. "I should get a fucking Grammy for all the musicians I helped keep afloat during their careers."

  I laughed. "What is it with strippers and musicians?"

  Her eyes narrowed at me. "I am not a stripper. I am an erotic performance artist, thank you very much." She pondered my question for a moment. "And, you know, girls are always suckers for musicians. They’re very talented with their fingers. We keep the same hours. Our lifestyles seem to mesh. I mean, I can't really date an accountant. The whole 9 to 5 thing wouldn't work. I'd be leaving the house just as he was coming home. And a lot of men can't handle my profession. They get jealous. They think I'm picking up guys in the club, which I'm not."

  I arched a doubtful eyebrow. "What about me?"

  "I didn't pick you up in the club. There were other factors involved in our hooking up." She scowled at me playfully. "Besides, you were never a client. You haven't paid me for a dance yet." She stuck her tongue out at me.

  I chuckled again. "Fair enough."

  "So tell me about the hot brunette last night," Dita asked casually.

  "Not much to tell. She just happened to leave out a critical piece of information."

  "About her boyfriend?" Dita surmised.

  I nodded.

  "Yeah, that's not cool,” Dita said. “Just be upfront with people. How hard is that?"

  "Apparently it's pretty difficult for a lot of people."

  "Well, I'm a straight shooter," Dita said, with a prideful grin. "Something tells me you are too."

  "Life's too short for bullshit, isn't it?"

  I knew just how short life could be. Mine had almost gotten cut short on more than a few occasions.

  "Live every day like it's your last," Dita said. She thought for a moment. "I mean, if it were really my last day, I'd go max out my credit card, but you know what I mean."

  We finished breakfast, then I gave Dita a ride on my bike back to her apartment. She used my spare helmet, and her arms wrapped around my chest as we zipped across town. The engine rattled and wind buffeted against my helmet. We raced past cars, weaving in and out of traffic. Dita tightened her grip the faster we went.

  I pulled up to her apartment complex, and Dita climbed off the bike. It was a four story complex with parking underneath that overlooked the water. Similar in design to many of the luxury apartments around town. She pulled off her helmet, flipped her hair, and let out an excited gasp. "Holy shit! You're insane? I like it."

  I chuckled.

  "Damn, that's got me all lathered up. Nothing like a hot guy with a motorcycle to turn a girl on. I almost want to invite you in, but I’m sure you have things to do today?”

  “Just a murder to solve,” I said.

  Her face scrunched up as she pondered my excuse. “I guess that qualifies as something important to do,” she joked.

  Dita handed me the helmet back and kissed me on the cheek. "Maybe I'll see you later? Maybe I won’t?” She smiled, then spun around and sauntered into the lobby.

  I attached the helmet to the back of the seat with a bungee net, then twisted the throttle and raced back to the marina. After I took Buddy for a walk, JD called. "So, how did it go?"

  "It exceeded expectations."

  "I bet it did. Are you going to see her again?"

  "My sources say the odds are high."

  "I don't think I could keep away from that either. Listen, I've been thinking…"

  "That sounds dangerous,” I said.

  "I think we've been looking in the wrong place."

  “For love?”

  “No. Well, I mean, I’ve certainly looked in some questionable places. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Are you talking about Olivia Carson?”

  24

  "We've been looking for the treasure just north of Angelfish Key Island," Jack said. "I don't think that's where it is. I've been doing a lot of research. A lot of people have assumed that north of Angelfish may be the final resting place of t
he Black Rose. I can see why they think that, but I read something in Jacques De La Fontaine's memoir that made me think otherwise."

  "So, where do you think it is?" I said, indulging him.

  "Northeast of Barracuda Key. I think he purposely misdirects people in the memoir."

  "Why? Didn't he write that later in life? The technology to retrieve the gold from the bottom of the ocean didn't exist then."

  “In the book, he dangles it out there like a carrot. Almost taunting would-be treasure hunters to find what can't be found. I think Jacques De La Fontaine went to his grave with a little bit of satisfaction knowing people would be searching for gold long after he was dead and gone, and they would most likely never find it."

  "Let me guess, you want to go out there and look for it?"

  "Damn Skippy. I've got to run some errands and take care of a few things, then I'll head your way."

  I was happy to go on the hunt. It meant an afternoon on the water, and a brief respite from the chaos at hand. I wanted to get as much time on the water with the Vivere as possible. If things kept going the way they were, I'd be living on a dinghy before long. There were plenty of salvage boats still available around the island as a result of the hurricane. Boats that would never be seaworthy again without a considerable amount of money and effort. I figured I could pick up a 30-foot sailboat for cheap. As long as it floated and didn't sink in the harbor, it might be a viable option. Something to keep a roof over my head. I could fix it up a little, but it didn't need to be capable of sailing around the globe, weathering massive blue waters swells. It didn’t even need to leave the harbor. It would serve as a floating studio apartment until I could get back on my feet.

  That was my fallback plan.

  The thought bounced around my brain that I might have to pick up contract work that I didn't necessarily want to do. Isabella had been incessantly hounding me to rejoin the ranks of Cobra Company. Now I might have to go back to her on my knees, groveling for a more permanent position. I already had deep reservations about going on the upcoming assignment in Colombia. I had little in the way of details, and I didn't really know what I was getting myself into.