Besides, how could she call when she had one of Morgan’s awesome nipples in her mouth, or while Morgan’s long, shapely legs were wrapped tightly around her neck and her tongue and lips were busily engaged in bringing Morgan to a climax?
She couldn’t tell them that, of course. She’d have to make up some fib to explain why she was out so late. The battery was dead when they went to leave the restaurant. She had a blowout on the freeway and had to wait for the Auto Club to come and change the tire. No, those lies wouldn’t work. Michael and Kim would see right through them.
Lying wasn’t the answer, anyway. Their relationship was founded on trust. Myra decided that while she would not volunteer the information that she and Morgan had sex, neither would she lie to Michael and Kimberly if they were to question her.
Myra could have followed her first mind and left when she and Morgan were still standing outside of Morgan’s door. She’d promised Morgan they would have another date soon and she would make arrangements in advance to be out late, perhaps even stay the night. That was only about ten-thirty. Even that hour was later than she’d planned on being home. If she’d left then, she would have had time to cool off, to decide whether she really wanted to have sex with Morgan.
A cooling-off period? What on earth for? Myra knew from the first moment Morgan’s magnetic eyes locked onto hers that she and Morgan were soul mates and were destined to become bed mates. She just couldn’t admit it then, not even to herself. Once they kissed, it became a foregone conclusion. Once they kissed, nothing in the world could have stopped Myra from giving herself to Morgan. Not Michael. Not Kimberly. Not even the arrival of the Messiah.
Neither Myra nor Kimberly had ever made love with another woman before, so they relied on their preternatural instincts. The result had been more than satisfactory, it had been sublime. But Morgan displayed a treasure house of experience. Morgan was a maestro of the subtleties and nuances of a woman’s body. Her touch was gentle but insistent. Morgan’s tongue was an incredible instrument of divine torture, driving Myra to heights of ecstasy she’d never before reached. She took her time, patiently, ever-so-carefully kindling the flames of desire, transforming Myra’s body into a fiery blast furnace ready to explode with molten steel.
What was she to do now? Myra believed she loved Michael and Kimberly. The ménage had proven to be even more satisfying than she had conceptualized. It had solved a number of problems she could not otherwise have addressed. But now Myra lusted uncontrollably, unquenchably for Morgan. She was out of Morgan’s bed for less than half an hour and already craving their next tryst.
Myra reasoned she should feel guilt, but she did not. How could anything so incredibly beautiful and fulfilling instill guilt? There was not even a mote of remorse. She freely and willingly and enthusiastically shared her husband with Kim. Why should Michael and Kimberly object to sharing her with Morgan? It was her body she sublimated to Morgan, flesh that belonged to her alone.
The ideal solution, Myra mused, would be to bring Morgan into their family and transfigure the ménage à trois into a ménage a quatre. But that was impossible. Not because of Kim. If Morgan and Kimberly made love, Kim would be an instant advocate, of that she was quite certain. The problem was Michael. Or, rather, the problem was that Morgan would never give herself to Michael or any other man.
When Myra arrived at the condo, she used her clicker to open the entry gate. After parking her car, she climbed the stairs and inserted her key in the lock, not knowing what to expect on the other side of the door.
The house was quiet. The bulb on the kitchen stove was illuminated; they always left it on as a night light. Myra tiptoed silently into their bedroom. The television was on, the sound muted. The bedcovers were lying in a disheveled pile on the floor. Both Kimberly and Michael were sound asleep, his head nestled between Kimberly’s immense breasts, their legs entwined. The musky stench of recent lovemaking filled the room. Myra picked up the sheet and blanket and covered the pair, gently, so as not to wake them. Then she undressed, turned off the television, climbed into bed, and cuddled as close as she could get to her husband and their partner in love. Her body had joined theirs, but her mind was still with Morgan.
Twenty-Five
MICHAEL AND KIMBELY left for work long before Myra opened her eyes and crawled from beneath the covers. She was thankful they hadn’t wakened her. She hadn’t had enough sleep and was not up to a big confrontation about Morgan. Not yet.
The likely prospect that Michael and Kimberly would react unfavorably to the knowledge she and Morgan were intimate was deeply troubling her. Michael eagerly accepted Myra’s bisexuality and her lovemaking with Kim, for he himself had something to gain. Kimberly. It was an instance of quid pro quo. Something for something. But unlike Kimberly, Morgan would never consent to sleeping with Michael. Therefore, Myra lacked bargaining power to vindicate her sexual relationship with Morgan.
Myra did not want her marriage or the ménage to collapse. She was equally determined to continue to make love with Morgan. As often as possible. Somehow, she was going to have to find a compromise to what seemed to be two incompatible goals. But it would have to be a compromise that did not involve naked deceit.
Myra tossed and turned and fidgeted all night long—or, rather, what was left of the night after she finally climbed into bed with Michael and Kimberly. She worried they might be angry with her, but mostly she fantasized about making love with Morgan and relived every exquisite moment of their date.
Myra was groggy from lack of sleep. She decided to have her morning coffee before showering and getting dressed. The carafe was half full, but the warming element had turned off and the coffee was cold. It was made hours earlier, when Michael and Kimberly first got out of bed. She removed the old grounds, rinsed the filter unit with hot water, inserted a new paper filter, measured in fresh grounds and bottled water, and started a fresh pot. When the coffee was brewed, Myra poured herself a cup, lit a cigarette, and picked up the phone. I might as well get this over with, she determined. If they’re angry with me, I might as well face their wrath now instead of worrying about it all day.
“Mr. Kaplan’s office. This is Kimberly Cohen.”
“Hi, Kim. It’s me.” Did Kim detect the bravado in my voice?
“Hi, Myra. Michael’s in Mr. Geller’s office. Do you want me to have him call you when he returns?”
Well, Kimberly doesn’t seem to be bent out of shape That’s a good sign. “No, that’s okay. It doesn’t matter which of you I talk with.”
“Did you get enough rest? Michael and I decided not to wake you this morning. We figured you must have turned in pretty late. That was okay, wasn’t it? We know you don’t have to be in your office at any set time.”
“I’m glad you let me sleep. You’re right. I was out pretty late.” Might as well admit it. “Morgan and I had a million things to talk about. We discovered we have a lot in common.” Especially, a powerful sex drive.
“Are you at work yet?”
“No. I’m still home.”
“Good. If you were in your office, we couldn’t talk openly, because your phone line might be tapped.
“Mark Caruso called Michael a little while ago. The Blue Hawaii cocktail waitress who was reported missing—Patti Ho—is dead.”
“Ohmygod,” Myra gasped. “What happened to her?”
“Patti’s body was found on a vacant lot lying beneath some tamarisk trees. A couple of kids ran across the corpse early this morning while taking a shortcut to school. She’d been strangled with a jump-rope. The rope was still twisted around her neck, but the wooden handles were stuffed in her vagina. The killer cut off Patti’s nipples and placed them over her eyes. That makes three woman killed and butchered by the same pervert, and all of them have connections with Blue Hawaii. Mark’s convinced that a maniacal serial killer is running around loose and could strike again at any moment.”
Myra took a deep breath. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night, but I
found out yesterday Patti Ho was one of Rick Lacey’s girlfriends.”
“That means each of the victims crossed paths with Lacey. Does Mark Caruso know that Ho and Lacey were lovers?”
“No, but I’ll call and tell him as soon as I get off the phone with you. I’ve learned something else about Lacey that I want to discuss with Mark, too. Lacey and Paul Carey asked Morgan to participate in a casino scam of some kind involving a half million dollars. It sounds like a money-laundering scheme to me.”
“I don’t know if Mark is the right person to talk to about that. He’s in Homicide. Shouldn’t you report what you know to the Gaming Control Board?”
“Probably, but I don’t have any contacts there. Besides, I trust Mark. He’ll know what to do with the information.”
“Oh, hold on, Myra. Here comes Michael now. Michael, pick up your phone. I’ll stay on the extension.”
“Hello?”
“Hi, Michael, it’s me. I’m still at home, so we can talk freely. Kim’s already clued me in about Patti Ho, and I told her some things I found out from Micki Nedrow and Morgan. Kim can fill you in after we get off the phone.”
“Sorry we didn’t wait up for you last night,” Michael apologized. “Kim and I went down pretty early. I guess we were both tired.”
Apparently, they don’t realize exactly how late I was out. There’s no need for me to enlighten them. “You were sound asleep when I came in, and I decided not to wake you. You looked so cute, cuddling together to keep warm. The bedclothes had fallen to the floor. I covered you up.
“Morgan and I had a great time. I can’t wait for you and Kim to meet her. Maybe I’ll invite Morgan to our condo for dinner tonight.” Myra was testing the waters.
“I do want to meet your friend Morgan, but tonight’s not the best time. Can you have her over tomorrow night, instead? A casino in Laughlin sent the Times an invitation to the grand opening of their new gourmet restaurant. They’re throwing a big bash for the media tonight. Geller insists I attend. Can you come along? We’ll have to leave Las Vegas about three.”
“I’d like to, but I have a full schedule today and I’m starting off late. Take Kim with you. I have a good idea. Why don’t you and Kim spend the night in Laughlin? Those grand openings can drag on forever and it’s a two-hour trip from Laughlin to Las Vegas. I wouldn’t want you to drive back on a dark, narrow road after working all day and half the night.”
“That’s a good suggestion, Myra. Are you sure you don’t mind? We’ll come home first thing in the morning.”
Of course I don’t mind. The longer they stay away, the more time I have to be with Morgan. Last night was fantastic, but I didn’t get nearly enough. I think I’m becoming addicted to sex. Or, more likely, I’m obsessed with Morgan. “Take all the time you need. Spend the day in Laughlin tomorrow, if you wish. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find something to keep me busy tonight. Maybe Morgan and I will take in a movie.”
“You really like her, don’t you?”
What did he mean by that? “Yes, I do. Immensely. Do you object?”
“No. I think it’s wonderful. It’s been a long time since we’ve made any new friends. Definitely invite Morgan over for dinner tomorrow night. I really want to meet her.”
“So do I,” Kimberly piped up. Myra had forgotten she was still on the line.
“I’ll do that. I love you Michael. I love you too, Kim. I’ll see both of you tomorrow. Just be home in time for dinner.”
When Michael hung up the phone, Kimberly closed the door to their office and gave him a big kiss. “You handled that perfectly, Michael. I’m proud of you. You didn’t question Myra about why she was out so late with Morgan, and you didn’t show the slightest sign of jealousy.”
Michael’s brows furrowed. “I hope you’re right, Kimberly. I hope we have nothing to worry about with Morgan.”
It seemed to Michael that Myra was just a trifle too willing for them to spend the night away from home. Kimberly was ecstatic that she and Michael would have another night together all by themselves.
Myra deferred the call to Mark Caruso. She could not wait another minute to tell Morgan the good news. Just thinking about Morgan made her heart palpitate.
“Surveillance. This is Morgan Penny.” Her voice was throaty and sensual.
“Hi, Morgan, it’s me. Can you talk?” Myra tried to make her voice sound as husky and sexy as Morgan’s.
“Yes. I’m the only one here again. I’m glad you called, Myra. I was thinking about you. Of course, that’s all I’ve been doing since last night.”
Myra giggled a schoolgirl giggle. “Me, too. Thinking about us.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Want to see me again tonight, Morgan? All night?” Myra’s sensual tone and those few words held enough erotic implications and carnal promises to fill a dozen CD-ROMs.
Morgan was overjoyed. “You know I do, baby. Come over to my place as soon as you get off work. Mom’s already asked if you can join us for dinner. She’s frying chicken.”
“I’ll be there. What time?”
“I’ll be home by five. Is that too early?”
“No, five is fine. After dinner, we’ll go to my condo. Okay?”
Morgan sounded puzzled. “What about Michael and Kimberly? Won’t they be there, too?”
“No,” Myra assured her. “They’re spending the night in Laughlin. We’ll have the place all to ourselves.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Girl, what don’t I have in mind!” Myra exclaimed. “Let your imagination run wild and that’s what we’ll do. Tonight, anything goes!”
Morgan lowered her voice seductively. “You’re making me terribly horny, Myra.”
Myra’s voice took on the same breathless quality. “If you’re still that way tonight, I’ll do everything I can think of to alleviate that condition.”
“I will be, baby. You can count on it.”
Myra felt a pulsating in her groin and a lubricious moistness between her legs. She was astonished that merely talking suggestively to Morgan on the phone had caused her body to react in such an outrageously erogenous manner.
Myra was so rattled after talking with Morgan she forgot to call Mark Caruso.
“HUMAN RESOURCES. This is Lois Lewis.”
“Lois, it’s me. I need to see you. At your house. Tonight.”
“Wonderful! I’ll cook dinner. What would you like to eat, baby? Besides me, that is.”
“Don’t bother cooking. I’ll grab something to eat in the Help’s Hall before I come over.”
Lois’s voice was laden with disappointment. “And just how long can you stay, sweetheart?”
“An hour. Two at the most.”
“That’s not long enough. I want you to stay with me all night.”
“Okay,” he capitulated. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”
“I’ll be in bed when you get here.”
“That’s not what I have in mind.”
“That’s what you always have in mind. Me, too, ha, ha.”
“Not tonight. We have to talk.”
“We can talk in bed. We always do. You sound so serious, darling. Is there something wrong?”
“Yes. We’ll discuss it tonight.”
Twenty-Six
WHEN RICK LACEY USED HIS KEY to let himself in the door of Lois Lewis’s apartment, the lights in the front room were turned off. A soft glow emanating from the direction of the bedroom told him Lois was already in bed, impatiently waiting for him to arrive and service her.
“What took you so damn long to get here?” she greeted him nastily. “I called the Blue Hawaii and the operator told me you’d left the building over two hours ago.” Not Hi, sweetheart, I’m glad to see you or Come give me a kiss or something loving. Rather, a blatant criticism that he had not dropped everything to be with her, and a poorly-disguised accusation that he was late because he’d been somewhere he shouldn’t be and up to no good. Pregnancy affected women in differing ways, Rick noted, virtual
ly all of them unpleasant. Susan had cut him off completely and Lois had become an insatiable shrew.
He could not tell Lois he’d gone home after work to have dinner with his wife and sons. Lois had developed a fiery temper and he knew she would blow a fuse. “Sorry, Lois. I got hung up for a little while,” he alibied weakly. “Marshall Brendan had me hand-deliver some important legal documents to his uncle down at Byrd’s Paradise Casino. But I’m here now,” he said, getting undressed as he spoke.
Lois waited until Rick was in bed next to her and she had a sensitive part of his anatomy grasped tightly in her hand before saying, “You promised you were going to spend the night with me. Are you?”
“I’m planning on it,” Rick lied, wincing as Lois applied pressure because she recognized his answer was evasive. In exactly three hours his cell phone would ring and he would tell Lois, oh so sadly, that he was called back in to work.
“Did you remember to bring the handcuffs?” Lois asked anxiously.
“No. Sorry. I forgot them.” Actually, Rick had several sets of handcuffs in his car and had deliberately left them there. Lois had become obsessive about playing S & M and bondage and other kinky games. Originally, they enjoyed taking turns being the master or the aggressor, but, since her pregnancy, Lois always demanded absolute control. Rick didn’t like that. It was too one-sided.
Tonight, Rick had something gnawing at him, and, for one of the few times in his life, he wasn’t in the mood for sex. However, he knew Lois would not be receptive to anything he had to say until he had allowed her to have her way with his body.
Having sex with Lois had long ceased being pleasurable, Rick decided. The moment the doctor confirmed Lois’s pregnancy, her whole personality changed. Instead of being submissive and docile, she was dominant and demanding. She was also moody, unpredictable, vindictive, and often violent. Lois constantly threatened to tell his wife, Susan, of their affair. To shut Lois up, at least temporarily, Rick had promised to leave his wife as soon as she gave birth. Lois agreed to keep silent only until Susan had her baby. That day was quickly approaching and he would soon have to resort to another tack.
A Time For Us (Michael Kaplan Mysteries) Page 18