“The most beautiful women in the entire city,” Bradley said. “There’s always eight of them on call around the clock to service us or people we want serviced: world leaders, rival tycoons, or just friends and business associates.”
Jake measured each woman. They could have been models and probably were. “You guys run a brothel?”
“The best little whorehouse in Manhattan,” Madigan said with a grin.
Jake found it difficult to mask his disgust with Madigan. The man had allowed the cabal to abduct Marla, and here he was prowling a cathouse. He didn’t even pretend to be concerned for his wife.
“We don’t run this place,” Bradley said. “We own it. Or one of the subsidiaries of one of our subsidiaries does. We own private clubs all over the state for our own amusement. Call it quality control.”
A woman wearing thigh-high leather boots and just enough black material to conceal her private areas crossed the room and stood before them. Straight, long dark hair spilled over her back. Jake found her stunning in every way, from her brown eyes and perfect cheekbones to her figure. She smiled at Bradley and Madigan but focused her attention on Jake. “Who do we have here?” she said.
“A new member,” Bradley said. “Jake. He’s to receive full benefits.”
The woman caressed Jake’s forearm with her fingernails. It had been a long time since a woman had touched him with the intention of arousal.
“I’m Lacy,” she said. “Welcome.”
“Lacy’s one of the managers,” Bradley said.
“She’ll suck you dry,” Madigan said in a mock whisper. “She has my highest recommendation.”
Lacy smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Mayor.”
“Take a look around,” Bradley said. “Pick whoever you want. Take two or three, if that’s your thing. Just not Lacy. She’s with me tonight.”
“Bastard,” Madigan said in a jovial tone.
Lacy took Jake’s hand. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the girls.”
“Have fun,” Madigan said as Lacy led Jake deeper into the parlor.
Jake felt a sense of excitement as Lacy squeezed his hand. Her perfume filled his nostrils and his heart beat faster. He didn’t know why the old bastards wanted him to get laid, but he could think of worse ways to establish his cover. Sheryl had certainly given him permission to indulge in a little carnal pleasure.
Lacy guided him to a spot in the room that provided him with a close view of the other seven women, who sized him up with predatory eyes, leading him to believe they received bonuses for their services.
“Girls, I’d like you to meet Jake,” Lacy said. “Treat him right and he just may become a regular.”
“Hi, Jake,” the women said in unison.
“Hello.” Jake hoped his face wasn’t turning red from the attention. He eyed a dazzling Chinese woman who sat on a banquette, one arm draped over the back to emphasize her breasts. Then he looked at a South American beauty with brown skin, the bangs of her straight black hair drawing attention to her feline eyes. And a Latina with curves in all the right places, her gold jewelry guiding his attention to her taut stomach. A leggy blonde standing at the fireplace cocked one eyebrow at him. A light-skinned black woman with coffee-colored hair only had to tilt her head to quicken his pulse. A brunette with short hair, decked out in red lingerie and a silken robe, crossed one leg over the other, pointing the toe of her stiletto shoe in his direction. Another black woman, with darker skin and long curly hair, regarded him over her shoulder, flexing her tight ass at him. Jake swallowed.
Lacy scraped the back of his neck with her fingernails, drawing an electric charge out of him. “They’re yours for the choosing, dear. Every one of them will do whatever you want, so don’t be shy.” Leaning so close to him that he felt her breath in his ear, she whispered, “Remember, this isn’t a onetime proposition. You can have all of them eventually, even me.”
Despite his best efforts, Jake felt himself stiffening down below.
“Choose,” Lacy said in a breathy tone.
Jake focused on the South American woman, and before he knew it he had moved in her direction.
Meeting his gaze head-on, she rose on toned legs and tossed her hair over one shoulder like a model in a shampoo commercial.
“Excellent choice,” Lacy said behind Jake. “Bianca will make you feel like a new man. She’ll teach you how the birds sing in Brazil.”
Jake looked into Bianca’s brown eyes, which flashed equal parts exoticism and eroticism. Her smile conveyed a sincerity that suggested more than role-playing, and he desired her.
Bianca—if that was her real name—slid her soft fingers between his. “Let’s go up to my room, unless you’d rather sit at the bar.”
Jake shook his head, and she led him past Bradley and Madigan, who stood leering. He found Madigan to be a particularly vulgar man.
Bianca opened the door, her every movement drawing Jake’s attention to a different part of her body. He followed her along the corridor, past the man who had admitted him, and up the curved stairway.
On the second floor, Bianca opened a white-paneled door. She pressed her back against the doorframe, offering Jake a view of her breasts, and nodded inside.
Jake moved past her into the spacious room, which was dominated by a king-sized bed. Mirrors decorated the walls and ceiling. A Jacuzzi waited beside an open bathroom. A bureau with hand-carved wooden drawers served as a display for sexual aids and devices.
The door closed behind him, and Bianca’s arms encircled his chest. “Tell me you want me,” she said.
“You’re very desirable.” He searched the room for cameras. He saw no signs of any, but in the age of fiber optics, that meant nothing. The last time he’d had sex was with Kira Thorn in the Tower, and that had turned out to be for Old Nick’s entertainment pleasure.
Bianca strode forward and stopped between Jake and the bed. “Do you want me to take my clothes off? Or do you want to undress me?”
Jake looked her up and down, from her firm calves to her tight waist and her full breasts. “You do it.”
With a hint of a smile, Bianca disrobed. She peeled off her garments and discarded them on the floor until she stood nude except for her shoes. She posed for Jake, offering him several different views of her body, which she seemed to enjoy. “Do you like?”
Jake nodded. “Very much.”
Bianca moved closer to him, and his gaze flitted to the wide areolas around her erect nipples. She slid her palms up his chest, then clawed at his pectorals and drew her fingernails down his abdomen, causing his body to shudder. Her right hand slid over the erection in his pants and stroked it, causing him to twitch.
“I take it you don’t need Viagra,” she said, leading him to believe that the other members of Avademe did, except maybe for Madigan. “What about other drugs? I have anything you want, except for Black Magic. Just enough for the clientele.”
Jake’s throat turned dry at the prospect of cocaine. You don’t want to go there, he told himself, but standing before her, he did. “Just some music.”
Smiling, she went over to the sound system, which afforded him a view of her curvaceous ass. “What would you like to hear?”
“You choose.”
Bianca opened a menu on a touch screen attached to the music player and selected an entry. A moment later, opera music swept through the room. She glanced at him with raised eyebrows, as if seeking his approval.
“Louder,” Jake said.
Bianca raised the volume, and he sat on the bed and took out his cell phone.
She circled the bed and stood before him, a disappointed look on her face. “What are you doing?”
“Checking my messages.” Even as he spoke the words, he opened a menu and selected a video file. Glancing up at her, he read indignation in her pout.
“I hope you find me more interesting,” she said.
Jake offered her a conciliatory smile. “Get down on your knees.”
Now looking satisfied,
Bianca kneeled on the floor in front of Jake and slid her hands along the inside of his thighs, kneading his groin.
Jake turned the cell phone so the image on its screen faced her. “Do you know her?” he said in a whisper barely audible over the music.
Frowning, Bianca stared at the image. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, and Jake knew that she did indeed recognize the woman on his phone. Then her face grew passive. “No,” she said, with a lot less conviction than she had shown in gaining Jake’s interest.
Jake unfroze the image of the woman Madigan had murdered, then rewound the footage to the beginning and allowed it to play at regular speed. He showed her the screen and studied her expression as she watched the murder play out. She gasped and the color drained from her features.
When she raised a hand to her mouth, Jake gripped her wrist and jerked it away. Then he gave her hair a sharp tug, pulling her head to one side, and whispered into her ear, “I’m pretty sure there are cameras and listening devices in every room in this building, whether you know it or not. I’m also certain the girl in that footage worked here, that the old bastards who finance this whole operation and others like it use this place as a farm to harvest women like you for scenes like the one I just showed you. If you’re following what I’m saying, nod and smile as if I just made a very imaginative request.”
Bianca nodded and smiled, despite the fear in her eyes.
“That was no staged performance. It really happened. I saw it in person. That girl is never coming back. They brought me here so I could choose someone I liked. Your life is now in danger, but I had to pick someone. When I leave, you better start thinking of a plan to get the hell away. Don’t tell anyone else, because you don’t know who to trust or who else might be listening. Take as much cash as you can tomorrow and disappear. Don’t use your credit cards, and don’t go anywhere you’ve been before, because they’ll find you and they’ll kill you.”
Jake sat back, and Bianca looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, but you’d better put on a good show now.” Sliding the cell phone into his pocket, he laid back with his arms folded behind his head.
Bianca crawled over him, her hair hiding her face. “Thank you.” She kissed him on the mouth, and he tasted the salt from her tears. She pulled his T-shirt up to his neck and kissed his chest, working her way down to his belt, which she unbuckled.
Jake closed his eye and tried to imagine Sheryl as Bianca took him into her mouth, but he saw another face instead.
When Jake went downstairs, he nodded good-night to Lionel, the muscle-bound doorman, who gave him a curt nod in return.
Outside, the chauffeur stood smoking a cigarette against the limo. Madigan’s security detail remained invisible in their SUV. The chauffeur tossed his cigarette and reached for the car door handle.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jake said. “I don’t know how long the others will be. I’ll just take a cab.”
On Second Avenue he hailed a taxi and instructed the driver to take him home, where he took a shower and then unlocked the safe.
A while later, Laurel appeared sleepy and surprised when she opened her parlor door. She wore a robe over her nightgown. “I know I’m stating the obvious, but it’s late.”
“This can’t wait,” Jake said.
She stepped back from the door, allowing him to enter. “You keep very irregular hours.”
“Not by choice.” Jake descended the steps into the parlor and set the metal attaché case on the round table where Laurel held her readings.
Laurel locked the door and joined him. “What’s this?” She crossed her arms.
Jake thumbed the combination dials on the case and popped its lid, revealing the laptop, files, and discs inside.
She regarded the contents. “You asked me to hold that for you once before, and I said no.”
“I realize that, but this is a different situation. Possessing Afterlife may have saved my life. I have reason to believe Reichard will send someone to retrieve this from my office. They can’t find it.”
Laurel traced the edges of the attaché case with trembling fingers, like an ex-junkie confronted with her worst bad habit. Drawing her hand back, she slammed the lid shut and spun the combination dials. “I don’t want to be around this.”
Jake moved closer to her. “You’re the only person I can trust with it.”
“Six months ago, you came to me right before you went to war with Katrina.”
“Because you’re the only person I can talk to about this crazy stuff.”
“Then talk to me now. I’m here for you.”
He stepped even closer. “I don’t want to talk.”
For the first time since he had known her, Laurel appeared nervous. “Then what do you want?”
Sliding his left hand on the back of her neck, Jake drew her close and kissed her on the mouth. Laurel responded with her tongue, and he squeezed one of her breasts. She arched her back, moaning. When they parted, Jake untied the sash of her robe. Laurel shed the fabric and wrapped her arms around his neck with greater passion than he expected, quickening his heart. He knew this simple contact opened his mind to her, allowing her to read his thoughts and feelings. At that moment, he didn’t care.
Jake took off his jacket, revealing his Glock in its shoulder holster. “Where’s Edgar?”
Laurel’s breasts rose and fell. “In the bedroom.”
He relocated the attaché case to a chair, intending to take her on the table, but Laurel shook her head.
“That table contains the vibrations of hundreds of my customers. It will be overwhelming for me and more than a little distracting.” Unclasping her nightgown, she turned and receded into her living quarters, allowing the garment to fall to the floor in the doorway.
In the kitchen, Jake took off his shoulder holster and laid the gun on the counter.
Laurel emerged from the bedroom, naked and carrying Edgar in a cage. The raven cawed at Jake. “You’re sleeping in the kitchen tonight,” Laurel told the bird.
Jake admired her body. She wasn’t a twenty-year-old like Bianca or a genetically engineered fuck machine like Kira, but she was an attractive woman, maybe thirty years old, with a nice figure. A flesh-and-blood human being like Sheryl had been, except for her psychic abilities.
Jake raised one hand to the birdcage. “High five.”
Edgar squawked and pecked at Jake’s palm.
Jake followed Laurel into the bedroom, where she lit several candles on her bureau, the mirror doubling their output.
“Take off your clothes,” she said, and he complied. “Now come here. I know just what you want.”
Jake went to her and she stroked his erection, then kneeled before him and took him into her mouth. Sliding his hands over her head, Jake glanced at their reflection in the mirror. He saw the surprise on his face as Laurel worked him over, speeding up and slowing down her movements, running her tongue here and there, massaging his testicles with her hands at the same time. No sooner did it occur to him that he wanted her to do something differently than she adjusted her actions to fit his desires.
Like magic, he thought, and then he came with a loud moan and collapsed onto the bed. Laurel went into the bathroom and washed her mouth, leaving him to reflect on the experience they had just shared, which topped the hand job she had given him six months earlier.
Laurel returned and leaned over him, her hair whispering over his face. “Did you like that?”
Jake blew air out of his cheeks. “Copy that.”
“More than what you got at that whorehouse?”
Jake’s laughter hurt his stomach. “You’ve got special powers, lady.”
“Then get up off your ass. I’m not some high-priced hooker. One hand washes the other in my world.”
Jake rolled off the bed, allowing Laurel to lie on her back. She spread her legs wide apart, giving Jake a look at her shaved privacy.
“Let’s see if you can read my mind,” she said.
They made love twice, the second time with more familiarity and boldness, their bodies moving as one, straining their muscles in unpredictable ways. In a single night Jake achieved the level of intimacy with Laurel that had taken him years to reach with Sheryl, and when their bodies lay spent and exhausted and sleep overcame them, they held each other with great tenderness.
For those few hours, Jake gave no thought to Avademe or his assignment to kill Governor Santucci. Then the sun rose and the darkness returned.
CHAPTER
18
Jake awoke in Laurel’s bed to the aroma of hollandaise sauce. Sitting up, he looked around the room. One brick wall, no windows. Like a prison cell, he thought.
If only Laurel’s powers did enable him to see into her mind.
He pulled on his briefs and jeans and padded barefoot to the kitchen. His groin ached and he felt drained. Edgar sat perched on the table, watching Laurel cook. She had put on Jake’s polo shirt, and he studied her legs with appreciation.
Setting his hands on her hips, he said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Mmm. Eggs Benedict. My favorite.” Even as the words came out of his mouth, he thought, Of course she knows it’s my favorite. . .
Cosmic Forces: Book Three in The Jake Helman Files Series Page 19