The Sweet Thief

by Temple Madison

  “How did you know it was a dog?”

  Reluctantly turning from his search, he looked at her. “Well, the only thing we found was a poor little pooch cringing under a bush, so we figured it must have been him.” He smiled, hung his thumbs on his belt and looked at her with a smile. “Yeah. One of the agents took him home and named him Trigger. You know, like pulling a trigger or flipping a switch?”

  Lorelei smiled indulgently. “Yeah. Cute name. Appropriate.”

  “Once we even had a helicopter land in the yard. Talk about excitement! Come to find out, it was some creep trying to make a statement.” He reached up and scratched his head. “I tell you, this city is full of weirdoes.”

  “My god.” Lorelei frowned. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, but the guy was arrested and probably had about ten years shaved off his life.” The agent began looking around curiously. “Where’s the president?”

  “Oh... uh... he’s... uh... sleeping. Yes... he... he had a very busy day, so he went to bed early.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t know how anyone could sleep through those sirens. Maybe I should check on him.”

  “No,” Lorelei said quickly. Then she smiled nervously. “I’ll do that.”

  “Excuse me for saying so, ma’am, but you seem a little on edge. Maybe you should try to get some sleep, too.” He looked down at his watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize how late it was.” She indicated the book. “I was reading.”

  “Okay, well...” The agent looked at her curiously. “If you need anything...”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  When the agent left, Lorelei turned and continued looking out into the dark night.

  Where was Griff, what was he doing, and why had she found it necessary to lie to the agent? The lie just came rolling off her tongue. She didn’t know why. She looked up at the clock, willing the time to go faster, willing the sun to come up, willing her heart to stop racing, willing Griff to come back and hold her in his arms once again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The speeding taxi screeched up to Le Cirque, and Griff stepped out, looking up at the sizzling, blinking sign. He noticed several people leaning against the decrepit old building, smoking and talking, but no one seemed to pay him any mind. He threw some money down on the seat next to the driver, walked up to the door, and lingered just inside the dimly lit doorway until the desk clerk turned his back. Seeing his opportunity, he rushed into the hotel and began making his way up the threadbare stairway until he came to the first floor. The crumbling structure creaked with almost every step he took, causing people to peek suspiciously through the cracks in their doors. As he climbed, he heard whispers, husbands yelling at their wives, and loud TVs. At one door, he accidentally kicked a stack of cat food cans that tumbled over loudly. Hurrying away from the clattering sound, he continued climbing.

  Trash littered the floor and dirty words with obscene pictures decorated the grimy walls. The atmosphere of the place was thick with depravity and corruption. He could smell sex in the air, as if someone was jerking off. When he rounded a corner on another floor, a faulty light was sputtering and dying, making the halls dark and shadowy. In a far corner, he heard passionate moans. He squinted and could just make out a black couple having sex up against a wall. He kept walking until he found himself on the fifth floor in front of room twenty-seven. Before he knocked, he looked down at his watch. It was five minutes before midnight.

  Thankful he had just made it, he tapped lightly. In only seconds, he heard movement on the other side and waited. After a few minutes, he heard the rasp of metal just before the door opened and a pair of sexy blue eyes peered out suspiciously through a tiny crack.

  “Are you alone?” the soft voice asked.

  “Yes, unless you count the cockroaches.”

  When she opened the door, Griff sucked in his breath. Her breasts were nearly falling out of the top of a teddy that left almost nothing to the imagination. She had on thigh-high black-seamed hose and furry stiletto mules. As Griff looked her over, he asked sarcastically, “Dressed for business?”

  “Dressed for you,” she purred.

  “You shouldn’t have bothered,” he replied coldly, “I’m not staying that long.”

  “Don’t be too sure,” she whispered.

  He made his way over to a small table, laid the briefcase down, opened it, and then began looking around. The room was small, with cracks in the plaster. Other than the table, there was a bed, a faded dresser that looked like it had been there since the twenties, and a small night stand that had a phone, an overflowing ashtray, and a wobbly old lamp on it. There were also a couple of chairs, and water stains on the ceiling that told him the roof leaked. The mirror of the dresser was stained around the edges, and it was cluttered with makeup, spilled powder, and hair rollers. “Don’t you ever clean this place up?”

  “It’s a place to hang my hat,” she said, then waved a fan of bills around as she flicked them with her long red nails. “But thanks to you, I won’t be staying long either.”

  He couldn’t help noticing that her flawless skin was pink and healthy looking, and her lips were a wet, glistening red. Her sun-bleached hair was long, with the sides lifted and rolled upward in a style reminiscent of the forties. A small cluster of curls bobbed above her left eye, and she smelled like the perfume counter of a cheap department store.

  “This begins and ends right here, tonight. Understand?”

  “We don’t have to talk about it now,” she whispered as her soft hand reached down to caress the front of his pants. “I have other things in mind.”

  Griff didn’t know why he didn’t move her hand, except that it felt too good, and he could feel every curve of her body, making his temperature climb. Small beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, and his voice broke with emotion. “You’ll find enough money in there to take care of yourself for a long time.”

  “Come on, darlin’,” she said softly. “I think you need to sit down.”

  “No,” Griff said, struggling with his arousal, “I’ve got to be going.”

  “But you just got here. Surely you’ll let me show my appreciation.”

  “It’s not necessary,” he said, pushing her hands away.

  Gabrielle became angry. “So, you come here and let me get you all hot and bothered, and then you go back to her with all the goodies. Is that it?”

  “I gave you a briefcase full of money, for god’s sake. Isn’t that enough? You want my blood, too?”

  “I want you to touch me,” she hissed. “Is that too much to ask?” She took his hand and put it on her ample breast and...

  Griff jerked his hand away as if it had been burned.

  “You keep pulling away from me like I have a disease or something. Am I so damned repulsive that you don’t even want to touch me?”

  He ached to touch her. His hands flexed open, then closed. He knew she was his for the taking.

  “You didn’t find me so repulsive in your office that day. Remember?”

  “Of course, I remember. Why in hell do you think I’m here?”

  “Then relax, sweetie,” she said as she looked up at him with sultry, half-closed eyes. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me, and I won’t tell. I mean... since you’re here and all. It would be a shame to waste an opportunity.” Just as she was inching her arms around his neck...

  “I... can’t,” he whispered weakly into her inviting mouth.

  “What’s the matter?” Gabrielle said cruelly. “Has the great Griff Nyle been chopped down to size by a cute little redhead with freckles?” She looked at him, more cruel words still rolling off her tongue. “Or maybe you just can’t get it up for poor, little Margine. Is that it?”

  “Still calling yourself Margine, huh?”

  A shock of fear traveled through her. “What? It’s my name.”

  “Oh, get off it, Gabrielle. I’m not a fool, for god’s sake. I’ve had you checked out from
the day you were born. Hell, I know your history better than you do. Your name is Gabrielle Valdis, and you’re into some kind of voodoo shit. You’re hooked up with someone else, and your wicked, little plan somehow includes me, but I’m not buyin’, see. First of all, you’re not very good at the art of seduction.” He roughly grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her face upward toward the light. “See those lights? You don’t try to seduce a man in a place where there are so many damned lights. When a man sins, he does it in the dark, away from so many prying eyes. This damned place is lit up like a friggin’ circus.” He looked around at the dark windows with no shades. “What the hell are you doin’ here? Puttin’ on a goddamned show?” He clenched her hair even tighter, and she cried out in pain. “I’d better not find out you’re trying to pull some kind of dirty trick on me, because I can chew you up and spit you out before you even know what’s happening.”

  “Go ahead,” she breathed, her voice passionate. “Hit me, slap me, punish me. The rougher it is, the better I like it.” She slowly reached up and flipped a wall switch and the room became steeped in darkness as black as sin. “Is it dark enough now?”

  “It’ll never be dark enough, bitch,” Griff said as he pushed her away roughly and flipped the lights back on.

  “No? What about Lorelei? Does she know you’re here? With me?”

  “No, she doesn’t, you little slut, and if she finds out, I know a little witch who’s going to pay with her life. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sure, baby,” she said as she stroked his face with a long-nailed finger. “I don’t want to hurt Lorelei. I was just thinkin’ of you. I mean, it does a man good to sleep with a slut once in a while.” She slid her sensuous gaze up to his. “It gives him a chance to get a taste of what he’s missing at home.”

  “I’m getting everything I want at home.”

  “Maybe,” she said mysteriously. “And maybe not.”

  “You’ve got the goddamned money. I’m leaving.”

  “You forgot one thing.”

  “What?”

  “A goodbye kiss,” she said as she dared him with her eyes. “You’ll give me that much, won’t you?”

  “Is that all? Just a kiss and this is all over?”

  “Unless you want more.” She glanced down at the money. “After all, you paid for it.”

  Saying nothing, he reached down, roughly took her in his arms, and kissed her. What Griff meant to be a quick kiss turned into a hot, demanding session that grabbed him against his will and caused his restless cock to begin growing. He moaned. A fire in his groin caused his tongue to enter the soft, willing darkness of her mouth. After his lusty breath had mingled freely with hers, his searching mouth made a hot, blazing trail down her neck until he found the plump roundness of her cleavage...

  He came to himself and knocked her backward. “Get your filthy hands off me.”

  “You’ll hate yourself in the morning,” she purred as she lazily lay back on the bed and stroked her thigh wantonly.

  Griff’s eyes were drawn to the inside of her soft, white thigh, and something inside him snapped. He threw his jacket down, jerked her to him, and looked dangerously into the pink loveliness of her face. “Don’t you understand, bitch? I hate the stinking ground you walk on.”

  “Nobody said you had to love me.”

  As his gaze slowly lowered and ravaged the Texas tramp, his hand reached up and pulled the silver chain, plunging the room into an eerie darkness. After it had settled down around them, a loud sound came out of its sinful blackness.

  It was the sound of silk and lace being violently ripped.

  Griff wanted her, yet he hated her. He pushed her down on the bed, clawing at the sheer teddy like a crazed animal or a man possessed. His lust was such that he clawed, bit, and sucked on her perfumed skin, leaving telltale marks of passion. His breath jerked, and he emitted tiny whimpers as he grabbed for her, his hands brutally pulling at her hair, scratching her tender skin. He forced himself between her legs, feeling the soft thighs that had tempted him beyond his ability to resist.

  And then, Lorelei’s image flitted through his mind. He stopped, thinking of her waiting for him. The fear in her eyes when he’d left, not knowing when he’d return. The trust she’d put in him. How could he do this to her? God, he couldn’t. The red hair he’d hated, he now loved. The tiny freckles that dotted her delicate, little nose had become so precious. When his vision cleared, he was looking down at the woman that was taking all of that away, and for the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to want to kill someone. He saw past the makeup, the glamour, and peered deep into a heart so black it made him feel like a sinner that had seen the light.

  He quickly let go of her as if she had gone up in flames. Pushing her tempting body away, he ran blindly out into the night, not knowing where he was going. He couldn’t have felt more pain if a knife had pierced his heart. He ran, ducking in doorways and alleyways, tears flooding his eyes so badly he couldn’t see where he was. When he stopped, he realized he was at the waterfront. It was vacant, so he sat down by the restful, lapping water and thought about what had happened. He hung his head, hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with degrading, humiliating tears. What had made him do it? What made him dive deep into the dark night of the soul where a man does unspeakable things that turn him into an animal? He could still see her milky white skin as she lay in the moonlight and thought of her words that would echo forever in his mind.

  You can do anything you want to me... anything you want... anything.

  A man needs to sleep with a slut, to get a taste of the things he’s missing at home.

  She had tempted him. He wanted to blame her, but when he saw her full, round breasts jutting up at him like two small mountains waiting to be conquered, he knew it was his ugly, dark, unredeemable soul that was to blame. He could still taste her hard nipples, and when his mouth had covered them, they’d throbbed with anticipation. She was warm and soft in his arms, but he’d stopped. For the first time in Griff Nyle’s miserable life, he had backed away. He could have had her, could have felt her deep, tight softness grasping him, willing him to plunge over and over again until he was emptied of all the life-giving sperm he had left to give.

  But he had said no!

  Just then, he happened to look across the street and saw the smudge of a brightly lit neon sign. He wiped the tears away and saw that it was a liquor store. He wanted a drink so badly his mouth watered, so he got up and blindly stumbled toward the street—and then stopped. There were lights everywhere. He backed away, hidden once again by the shadows. He couldn’t go in, he’d be recognized. He looked around. In only seconds, he saw a black shape emerging from the fog made bright by a full moon. The crisp steps of the black silhouette echoed sharply as he walked. Griff watched and listened as the silhouette came closer and closer. Then, as the dark shape appeared in front of him, Griff gathered up his courage and lifted his voice.

  “Hey,” Griff whispered as loudly as he could.

  The silhouette stopped and looked around, but apparently didn’t see anything—it just kept going.

  “Hey,” Griff called out again.

  The silhouette stopped again, turned around, and peered into the darkness. “Is somebody in there?”

  “Yes, here!” Griff whispered.

  The silhouette looked toward him. “Where are you?”

  “I’m here. Come closer.”

  “Hey, you must think I’m crazy. Ain’t no way I’m comin’ in there, mister.” He began edging away.

  “Please, don’t leave.” Hoping his voice wouldn’t be recognized, Griff continued to whisper. “I need help.”

  The silhouette looked around at the vacant street as if trying to decide what to do. After a few minutes, he turned his eyes back toward the shadows. “What do you want, man? Are you hurt?”

  “A drink. I need a drink.”

  He saw movement within the murky veil and managed to make out a dark profile. “W
ho the hell are you?”

  “Nobody. I’m nobody. I just need a drink.”

  The silhouette looked curiously at him. “You’re a goddamned drunk.”

  “No. I just...” Griff didn’t know how to explain why he couldn’t come out of the darkness. “Please. I just need a drink.” Griff began digging in his pants pocket. “I’ve got a fifty dollar bill here. You can have the change if you’ll go across the street and get me a bottle.”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “I... I... “

  “You don’t need no drink. Sounds like you’re drunk already.”

  “I’m sick. I just need something to help me make it home.”

  “Hey, man, is there something wrong with yo’ face, or what? Why don’t you come out here where I can see you?”

  “Please don’t ask questions... just...”

  The silhouette took a deep breath. “All right, why the hell not? Where’s the money?”

  Griff balled up the bill and threw it into the light.

  The silhouette picked it up. “What do you want?”

  “Anything... whiskey.”

  After smoothing out the bill, and pushing it down into his pocket, the silhouette turned and ran into the street.

  Griff watched him as he made it across and pushed his way through the door. He heard the faraway tinkle of the overhead bell that was music to his ears. He kept his eyes on the door across the way, licking his lips in anticipation of tasting the strong liquid that would burn its way down his throat and take away the sordid pictures of a midnight seduction. Just when he thought the kid must have run off with the money, he came out of the store with a bottle in a brown paper bag. He crossed the street and put it down on the ground.

  “There it is,” he said as he indicated toward the bottle. “Knock yo’self out.”

  Griff stared down at the paper bag bathed in light. “Thanks,” he managed to say.

  “You bet. Well, good night.”

  His echoing footsteps carried the kid deeper into the heavy fog until the thick swirl swallowed him up.