The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  He could smell her light perfume that wafted in the air and hear her moving on the mattress. Movement that was followed by a sharp intake of breath and a small groan of pain.

  Gage tossed back the blanket. The door to the little bathroom off her bedroom was ajar. She was standing, one hand braced on the soft blue counter, head lowered. He rapped on the door with one knuckle. Her head came up. “You okay?”

  “My ankle’s acting up. Since the fire. All that stair climbing, I guess.”

  Gage entered the room. “Let me take a look.” With ease, he lifted her onto the counter, then took her foot gently in his hands. The ankle was swollen. “I’ll get something cold to put on it.”

  She didn’t have any bags of frozen vegetables in her freezer, he saw a couple of minutes later. He wrapped some ice cubes in a dish cloth then returned to her. He placed the ice on the swelling which also placed him in line with her breasts. She was wearing a white tank top over some purple pajama pants and when she leaned forward to look down at her ankle he got a glimpse of her sexy cleavage, minus a bra.

  She released a sigh. “Feels good.”

  He was glad that her pain had eased, but he had a feeling his pain was about to climb to a new level. Along with her foot, the rest of her must also be getting cold from the ice. Her nipples were now pressing against the soft material of the top. His heart rate rose and he hardened.

  * * *

  Gage still wore his jeans but his torso was bare. Mallory didn’t want to stare but found it impossible not to.

  She could smell him. A trace of sweat. Heat. Something grittier that hit her system like a drug. Her heart began to beat in what felt like triple time. A fire started inside her.

  This time there was no Joseph Oliver. There was just herself and Gage.

  She didn’t need anything more on her mind now than the investigation. She’d only known Gage for a few days and knew so little about him.

  And none of that mattered at this moment. She wanted this. Wanted him.

  * * *

  Gage closed his eyes and when he opened them, Mallory’s gaze was on his. Her eyes had gone soft, liquid, and in that moment he was sure he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to be able to lose himself in them. To lose himself in her. To step outside of himself for a time. Leave the hurt and insanity of the last six months behind for a while, and engage in mindless sex where his body took over to give and to receive nothing but pleasure.

  He rose to his feet. With their gazes still locked, Mallory spread her knees and he stepped between them. He wanted to touch her everywhere at once but for some reason started with her hand. He took it in his and pressed her palm to his lips.

  “Gage,” she murmured.

  At the sound of his name on her lips, he pulled her to the edge of the counter so her lower body was now against his and kissed her as he’d been imagining for far too long.

  Open-mouthed. Wet. Hot. Mallory wound her arms around his neck and rocked forward, bringing his erection right against her center. Her action sent a blood rush to his arousal. Gage lifted her completely off the counter and into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him, keeping their bodies flush as he carried her to the bedroom.

  Only the lamp on the nightstand was lit, but it was enough light for him to find his way. He tumbled with her onto the bed. Bracing over her, he raised the hem of her tank top. His body went white-hot as he caressed and kissed her breasts. Mallory moved restlessly against him, then reached out and unzipped his jeans. She found him, hot and pulsing and moved her fingers up and down in a caress sure to shatter whatever self-control he had left.

  Before that happened, he slid down her body, taking her pajama bottoms and panties down with him. When he reached his destination, he parted her gently, and entered her with his tongue. His strokes were long and slow and unrelenting. Mallory let out a gasp of pleasure and then a groan that went on and on. Hearing her in pleasure ratcheted up his own and drove him closer to the edge.

  Her body bowed and as she threw her head back, her hair fanned out on the crisp sheets patterned with tiny flowers. She began to writhe. Gage was trembling now, almost at the breaking point. Bracing himself over her, he eased into her. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw at the power of the sensation of being inside her.

  Mallory dug her nails into his biceps and wrapped her legs around his hips, taking him deeper. Gage hissed as she hit every nerve.

  It had been too long for him and she was so incredible. So sweet. He had to caution himself to take it slow, not to let instinct and inclination take over and ram into her.

  But Mallory made the decision for him. She arched her back, plunging him deeper and after that there was no going back for either of them.

  Gage kissed her, tasting her lips, sucking her tongue into his mouth and began to move. Mallory matched his rhythm and then he was lost. He closed his eyes and uttered a groan with his release that blended with Mallory’s soft cry and gasps as she reached her own climax.

  Snowbound: Chapter Eight

  Gage stayed with his face buried in her neck for a long moment. Only the thought that he was likely crushing her into the mattress could make him move at this point. With effort, he rolled off her and onto his back.

  Mallory’s eyes were closed. The back of her wrist lay across her brow. “I don’t know how you were able to move. I’m too spent to open my eyes.”

  “It wasn’t without great effort.”

  “I can believe that.” She took a deep breath through her nose, let it out slowly in a long, drawn out sigh. Her lips curved slowly. “Wow, Broderick. I mean wow!”

  “Right back at you, Burke.”

  “In a few minutes. Or a month. I’ll see what I can find for us in the kitchen and we’ll have a kind of picnic in here.”

  “A picnic?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Sure. Just without the ants.”

  Gage found himself smiling at the notion.

  A short while later, Mallory managed to rouse herself and return with food. Their picnic consisted of leftover pizza, a beer for Gage and a glass of wine for herself. The aroma of spicy pepperoni blended with the scents of beer and wine.

  Gage rose onto an elbow to accept the beer she held out. Mallory’s bedroom was decorated in blends of grays and purples. He snagged a vibrant lavender cushion and set it against the headboard, then leaned back. “Gotta hand it to you, you put together a mean picnic.”

  “Not so much tonight.” She laughed, fully exposing that crooked tooth and he recalled running his tongue over it when he’d been exploring her mouth. “But I’ve been known to. I’ve had plenty of experience. My family was big on picnics.”Gage tipped back the beer bottle and took a drink. “You live in New York, but I don’t hear New York in your voice.”

  “Chicago.” She picked up a pizza slice from the box and transferred it to one of the two plates she’d placed on the bed between them. “Born there and lived there until I went away to college in California.”

  Her thick hair was tousled from their lovemaking and he couldn’t resist taking a lock between this fingers. “Bet you were hell on a surf board.”

  She rolled her eyes and took a healthy bite. “Hardly.” She chewed, then took another chunk out of the slice. “I’ve never been on a surf board.”

  “Come on. There wasn’t some surfer dude wanting to teach you the sport?”

  She laughed again. “Nope. Actually, I was a book worm in college. Didn’t know any surfer dudes.” She took the last bite, finishing the slice and catching a string of cheese on the pad of one finger. She licked that finger. Gage’s groin tightened. He took her wrist gently and brought her hand to his mouth. “Let me do that.”

  Mallory held his gaze and nodded.

  * * *

  They made love again and again throughout the night. Gage couldn’t seem to get enough of her and Mallory felt the same. She was sore in places that hadn’t received this much attention in some time. And, she had to admit, a smile spr
eading across her lips, her places had never been attended to this well.

  Gage was braced above her on one elbow. He reached out and ran his thumb across her grin. “You look—”

  She laughed. “Give a woman multiple orgasms, multiple times and she’s bound to look happy.”

  “I was about to say beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed her, his lips warm and tender. “But, happy to oblige.”

  Unbelievably, the touch of his lips had her wanting him again.

  He stretched. “I could use a shower.”

  He was off the bed in an instant, swooping her up into his arms. With a startled shriek, Mallory wound her arms around his neck.

  She heard a beep. Her laptop was still on the coffee table in the living room and the beep signaled new email. Gage must have heard it too. He set her on her feet. They exchanged a look and then were both on the move.

  Mallory looked at the message then up at Gage. “An ad for hair replacement.”

  “Hasn’t been long since you posted the profiles,” he said.

  He was right but she was finding it hard to be patient with so much at stake.

  Gage uncurled the fingers she’d unconsciously fisted, then took her hand and slowly brought her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her.

  Mallory closed her eyes and let herself lean on him. Gage tightened his hold.

  * * *

  The next evening, Mallory checked the dating sites again. She’d been checking at intervals that became shorter and shorter throughout the day. Gage handed her a sandwich and as she chewed, she registered that there still had been no responses. She wasn’t certain that tracking down the other dancer would lead them to the missing girls and she felt that until/if she got a hit, she and Gage were just spinning their wheels.

  Gage leaned over the back of the sofa. “Anything?”

  “Zip.”

  She’d lost count of the number of times she’d checked her phone messages, hoping to find a call from York. She’d placed a call to him and learned that so far there’d been no sign of Billy. Wherever he’d holed up, he’d hidden himself well.

  She hadn’t received any more email since the hair replacement ad late last night. Following that, when anxiety and despair had weighed heavily on her, Gage had held her for a long time here in the living room, then eventually, moving her to the bed where he’d held her for the rest of the night. He’d given her his strength and his compassion when she’d needed them. She wasn’t used to revealing her hurt so openly with anyone other than family, but with him, with Gage, it had felt acceptable to do so and more than that, it had felt right.

  Gage picked up the keys to the rental from the coffee table. “All set?”

  She nodded.

  The last girl on their list was Rita Castile. The advertisement from six years earlier was for a club in the neighboring city of Crowley, approximately one hour away. They made good time due to the lateness of the hour and the resulting lack of traffic.

  The club was a sharp contrast to the one they’d visited last night. The girl on the stage looked dated and less than enthusiastic about being there. No flashy costume or special effects lighting or accessories enhanced her performance. Other than Mallory herself and Gage, there were only two other customers in the place, both nursing mugs of beer.

  This time they couldn’t be circumspect about their reason for being at the club. Their information about Rita Castile was too old for that. Upon entering they approached the bartender, and with a flash of ID, Mallory asked to speak with the manager.

  The manager, Mike Cooper, met them at the bar. Mallory introduced herself and Gage, then Cooper ushered them into his office. The room looked as dingy and worn as the rest of the place. Water stains darkened the tiled ceiling and cracks split the linoleum floor. Mike himself was stick-thin and sporting a bad comb-over.

  Gage took a seat in front of Cooper’s desk. “We’re looking for a dancer who worked here. Rita Castile.”

  Cooper scratched his head. “Name’s not familiar. She’s not working for me now. What do you want with her?”

  “Just want to have a word,” Gage said.

  Cooper slid his chair along the floor to a file cabinet in one corner. The casters on the club feet screeched as they connected with the worn flooring. Cooper slid open a drawer and fingered the contents.

  “Had a Rita Castile working here. Six years back. Whoa!” He chuckled. “That’s going back a ways.”

  Mallory addressed Cooper. “Were you the manger here then?”

  “Manager then and now. Owner then and now. Got a note here that Rita left. Quit.”

  Mallory arched her brows. “Any reason why?”

  “None that I thought important enough to write down. Look six years is a long time ago. People come, people go. That’s how it is in this business.”

  Gage pointed to the open folder. “What address do you have for Rita?”

  Cooper recited it. Gage plucked a business card from a holder on Cooper’s desk and jotted down the information. “Any of the dancers who worked with Rita still here?”

  “Just one.”

  Gage glanced at Cooper. “We’d like to speak with her.”

  Cooper shrugged. “Why not.”

  He picked up the phone on his desk, an old fashioned rotary, and dialed an extension.

  “Honey,” he said a short time later, “can you come into my office? . . . thanks.” He replaced the phone. “She’s on her way.”

  There was a knock on the door, then it opened and a woman entered the office. Lines had cut deep around her eyes and mouth, made more prominent by the thick application of garish make up.

  “Amanda, these folks are from the police and the FBI,” Cooper said. “They want to talk to you.”

  Amanda linked her fingers. “I don’t know nothing that would interest the cops.”

  Mallory faced the other woman. “We’re not here to talk about you, Amanda. We want to ask you about a woman who worked here a few years back. Rita Castile.”

  “Rita? What about Rita?”

  Gage looked to Cooper. “Would you mind if we used your office while we speak with Amanda?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. I got things to do anyway.”

  Amanda’s gaze followed Cooper until he was out of sight and then lingered on the space he’d vacated. Her woeful expression conveyed apprehension, as if she’d been left on a sinking ship.

  A phone somewhere outside the office began to ring as Mallory spoke. “How well did you know Rita?”

  “Not well.” Amanda shrugged and one sleeve of the sequined top she wore slid down her bony shoulder. “Well, a little well, I guess. We ate together sometimes away from work or went shopping. You know? Listen is Rita in some kind of trouble? Because if she is, I don’t know nothing about that.”

  Mallory shook her head. “No trouble at all. We’re trying to locate her. Do you know where we can find her?”

  Amanda licked her lips. “No. We haven’t been in touch since she left.”

  “Why did she leave?” Mallory asked.

  “She got her Cinderella story. You know?” Another shrug that sent the sleeve down another inch. “Met a man. Got married. Lived happily ever after.”

  Gage rose from the chair and leaned back against Cooper’s desk. “What was the man’s name?”

  Amanda scrunched up her face. “Can’t remember it.”

  “Did Rita mention where she’d worked before coming here?” Mallory said.

  “Not to me.”

  Mallory looked to Gage. He shook his head once. “Okay, Amanda. Thanks for your time.”

  * * *

  Back at her apartment, Mallory sat on the sofa in front of her laptop and logged onto the Bureau’s database. She entered Rita Castile’s name and her last known address. “No criminal record or hits of any kind. I’m going to search the DMV.”

  Gage came to stand beside her. “Failing that there’s the IRS. Uncle Sam will be able to provide an address.”

  As it turn
ed out, contacting the IRS wasn’t necessary. The New York State Department of Motor Vehicles came back with several listings for drivers under that name.

  Gage leaned over Mallory’s shoulder. “DOB is too old for the first Rita to be the one we’re looking for. Next one is too young.”

  They went through the listings, eliminating all but four.

  “I’m going to cross reference these with marriages recorded six years ago.” When the listings came up, Mallory scrolled through them slowly. “I think we hit pay dirt.” She touched the computer screen. “Rita Freeman formerly Rita Castile. Here’s an address.” Mallory grabbed the notebook from her purse and wrote it down. “Not too far from here. We can drive over there in the morning.” She got to her feet and took Gage’s hand in hers. “Take me to bed.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face then kissed her tenderly, keeping their lips locked as he backed her out of the living room and to her bed. He eased her onto the mattress. While he slowly began to remove her clothing, his lips traveled as slowly over her face. Just that much contact had her burning for him, but it was clear that tonight he wouldn’t be rushed.

  “So pretty,” he murmured. “Right here.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  She would have laughed if she could have but he’d moved on to her neck and was now gently sucking and licking her pulse point. She’d never known that to be an erogenous zone but with him it had become one and she began to squirm.

  She reached for him, undoing the buttons on his shirt. He was all contours and hard, hard muscle. If he thought her pretty, right back at you, Gage.

  He was still taking off items of her clothing. He would have been finished by now. Really she wasn’t wearing that much, but his progress was hampered by the soft, lingering caresses he gave each part of her that he uncovered. He paid complete, unhurried attention to every inch of her as it was revealed to him and now the fire he’d built grew to a blaze. As he put one hand on one breast and his hot, open mouth on the other, she forgot to breathe until the need for air overtook her.