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I Spy a Wicked Sin

Page 14

by Jo Davis


  Did the guilt never end? “Thank you. I-I’m glad, too.”

  He hugged her close, but in moments, his breathing evened out into sleep. The drug still doing its work. When she was sure he was out, she left his embrace, went to the bathroom, and washed up. God, she could smell his cum and wanted to rub it all over herself. Wallow in it like a cat. Instead, she finished and began to dress.

  She refused to think of what had just transpired between them. The depth of emotion, of their connection. It was all for nothing, meant nothing in the end.

  She’d best not forget that.

  Leaving him, she fetched the thumb drive from her closet and went down to the office. She closed the door and sat at her desk, wiggling the mouse to wake up her computer.

  Inserting the drive, she waited for the box to pop up containing the file and got busy. Or tried.

  The program was a maze to her. To an agent experienced in breaking code, however, this one would be child’s play.

  Did she dare call someone to help with this? If so, whom could she trust?

  There were a couple of agents she’d trust with her life. The problem was, she wasn’t willing to risk theirs. Nor could she take a gamble on saving the worm to her computer’s hard drive, or making copies.

  Dietz’s pompous comment that he knew everything rang in her head. He’d threatened Liam, and she knew he wasn’t spouting bullshit.

  So she examined the file from one end to the other, played with the code every which way, but she wasn’t good enough to crack it. Even so, instinct warned her against letting go of this copy.

  Disheartened, she shut down the program and pocketed the thumb drive again. Friday, when Dietz called to tell her where to make the drop, she’d be “out of pocket.” Put him off a little longer while she continued to try to reach Michael. She’d go to dinner with Jude and his fancy friends, try to unwind. Forget all of this, for a time.

  Pretend that here she’d found a life and a man of her own to love.

  ***

  “This is why I haven’t gone out,” Jude grouched, fussing with his tie. “How am I supposed to get through an evening in a fine restaurant when I can’t even dress myself?”

  Christ, he sounded like a snot- nosed little kid. But he couldn’t help it-he was scared shitless.

  “That’s the whole point, remember?” Lily reminded him, swatting his hands away. “Getting out and proving to yourself that you have the option if you want.”

  “I’d rather stay here. Liam’s cuisine is better than any four- star establishment, which is why I hired him in the first place.”

  “This was your idea.”

  “No, it was Devon ’s. But I agreed.” Dammit.

  “What do he and his wife look like? Are they attractive?”

  He knew she was only trying to distract him from being nervous, and he loved her for it. Still, he decided to play along.

  “They’re striking. Like Brad and Angelina, only she’s a redhead. Devon has that blond, spiky, just-rolled-out-of-bed look and carries it off like a Hollywood leading man. Geneva is about an inch taller than he is, even without heels. A true Amazon beauty.”

  “They sound lovely,” she said, patting his tie. “Are they nice?”

  “They’re… magnetic. They’ll draw you in before you quite know what’s happening. If their sexual allure doesn’t have you dripping wet by the time we arrive back at their place, then you’re made of solid ice. No hope for you.”

  He hadn’t meant to say anything, but he felt he should warn her now. In case she wasn’t game for an adventure.

  She leaned in, nuzzled his jaw. “Don’t you know by now I’m game for anything?”

  “Good.” He grinned. “Maybe we can skip dinner?”

  “Not a chance. I’m starving.”

  “Liam can make-”

  “Let’s go before you wimp out.” She grabbed his arm.

  “Wimp? I’ve got your wimp right here in size ten extra long.”

  That earned a laugh as she dragged him downstairs. Liam saw them off at the front door, his tone a bit down.

  “You guys have fun.”

  “Hey, you should bask in your time off,” Jude said, turning toward him. “It’s not like you get a night away from the stove very often.”

  “I guess.”

  That wasn’t convincing at all. Frowning, Jude reached out, touched his shoulder, then skimmed upward and cupped his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m just being stupid. Not used to being alone and it’s kind of weird, that’s all.” His friend’s voice brightened, too cheerful to be sincere. “I’m good. Get out of here so I can put my feet up and hog the cable.”

  Jude almost relented. Nearly said to forget it, they’d stay home. But the nagging doubt passed and he let it go. Liam could handle one night to himself.

  “Next time, it’s a date with you, me, and Lily,” he said. “Deal?”

  “You bet,” he said, without much enthusiasm.

  “Great. Don’t wait up.”

  Out front, Jude held the door while Lily climbed into the limo, then got in after her. Settling close, he held out his hand for her to take and gave his driver directions to pick up the other couple.

  As the car pulled away, Jude told himself the finger of dread trailing down his spine was nothing.

  Nothing but his imagination.

  ***

  Lily watched the city lights roll past, taking mental inventory. The second pill was in her purse, ready for the opportune moment. Her cell phone was off, had been all day, preventing Dietz from reaching her. He could get in touch personally if he wanted, but he’d wait. Chew her ass out when she least expected it.

  She tried to forget her agenda for a while, concentrate on pretending to be normal. A woman on the town with three dynamic people.

  When the limo stopped and the other couple climbed in, Lily saw Jude was spot- on. Devon and Geneva were stunning; these two belonged on the red carpet at the Oscars.

  “Jude!” the blond god exclaimed, pumping his hand with enthusiasm. “God, it’s been ages!”

  “It has. Too long,” he answered, smiling.

  “Hello, Jude.” Geneva greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning curious, friendly eyes on Lily. “You must be Lily. It’s wonderful to meet the woman who’s captured Jude’s affections.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” she said warmly. Lily glanced at the men, who were engaged in brisk conversation, catching up. “But I doubt it’s possible to capture a free spirit.”

  “He is that. But he’s also loyal. Once he lets you in, he’ll do anything for you.”

  Lily nodded. “He certainly seems devoted to Liam and projects like the shelter.”

  A wistful look crossed the other woman’s face. “Yes. He’s an incredible man, but I have a feeling you’re only just scraping the surface of learning how much.”

  Geneva ’s gaze went right through her, as though she saw the secrets Lily worked so hard to hide. The conflict tearing her apart.

  “You’d be right.”

  “Speaking of Liam, how is he?”

  Lily studied her serene expression, wondering if that was more than a simple note of polite inquiry she heard. “Okay, though he seems a bit down lately. Especially tonight.”

  Something like regret or worry broke through her calm, then was quickly hidden. “Oh? Has he said why?”

  “No. You’d have to ask him, but good luck there. We’ve tried, with no success.”

  “I-I’m sorry to hear it.”

  The ride progressed smoothly, the conversation turning to happier, lively topics. The other couple made sure to include Lily, asking her opinions on whatever they discussed, no matter how trivial. They were charming and energetic, and Lily indeed found herself falling under their spell, exactly as Jude warned.

  Lily gaped at the restaurant when they arrived. It was exclusive, expensive, with a two-year waiting list. The establishment, notorious for admitting only the upper
echelon of society, radiated wealth and snobbery.

  No wonder Jude hadn’t wanted to come here, of all places, for his first public dinner since being blinded.

  But when Lily took his arm and led him inside… the management’s reaction to him was as though a deity from Mount Olympus had deigned to join them for the evening.

  “Mr. St. Laurent, how fabulous to see you!”

  “Mr. St. Laurent, you’re looking well!”

  “We have your private table, right over here. Come this way, but do be careful!”

  Stunned, she watched them fawn over Jude. It was like witnessing the parting of the Red Sea. She’d never seen anything like it in her life.

  Behind her, she heard Devon chuckle as they were shown to the best table in the restaurant. Un-frigging-real.

  After they were seated, Lily leaned to her left and whispered in Jude’s ear, “You didn’t tell me you’re a celebrity.”

  He shook his head, looking embarrassed. “I’m not. I have lots of money to spend and I’m a good tipper, that’s all.”

  “I don’t see them treating anyone else like they’re visiting royalty.”

  “You’ll have to look harder, then. I’m nothing special, just a guy.”

  “Don’t let him fool you, Lily,” Devon said, blue eyes twinkling. “Our Jude is one of a kind and everyone knows it except him.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. Can we change the subject?”

  His friends laughed affectionately and let him off the hook, launching into talk of the art world. Lily did her best to follow along, but the names of the artists and society figures meant nothing to her. Those people weren’t her crowd-not that she had a crowd-and were as far removed from her as the Middle East.

  Wine flowed and appetizers were served, Lily taking it all in. Jude looked sinful all in black, hair pulled back into a short tail. Unlike many blind people, he didn’t wear sunglasses, which she learned was because he could discern between light and dark, and could sometimes make out vague shapes. Shades would hamper that small ability.

  When dinner was served, Jude squeezed her hand under the table. “You’re quiet. Are we boring you to death?”

  “Not at all. I’m soaking in all of this. I can’t believe some people live like this every day.”

  Jude cocked his head. “Didn’t you rub elbows with the elite during your stint at the governor’s mansion?”

  Ah, shit. A misstep.

  “Yes, but though my title was the same, my role was very different. I didn’t often get to mix business with pleasure by attending elegant, private dinners, or by socializing on the town with my boss.”

  “Good point.”

  “And are you, Lily?” Devon asked with a mischievous grin. “Mixing business with pleasure tonight?”

  Beside him, Geneva gave her and Jude a catlike smile, toying with the necklace that plunged into the impressive cleavage of her skimpy black dress. Oh, this couple was good. Just like that, the sexual tension between the four of them could’ve been cut with a knife.

  “I believe I am,” she said, eyeing him in appreciation. He was no Jude, but he was very sexy.

  “Then might I suggest we finish our meal and skip dessert? We’ll take you on a brief tour of the gallery since it’s on our way back, then have a nightcap at our place. If that sounds good to both of you.” There was no mistaking Devon ’s true invitation.

  The image of this handsome man taking her, burying his cock inside her, made her pussy wet and tingly. “Fine by me. Jude?”

  “Christ, when can we leave?”

  Devon laughed and they enjoyed their meal, not rushing, but not lingering too long, either. After some haggling, each wanting to pay, the men agreed to split the bill and they were soon in the limo again. They cruised toward the gallery and arrived within twenty minutes.

  Lily had thought the outside gorgeous, but the inside was palatial. One did not come by to “pick up a little something” for the house unless one pulled at least seven figures a year. For the first time, Lily pondered just how much was Jude’s net worth.

  The tour was grand, but at some point Geneva took mercy on her. “We all know what you really want to see,” she said. “Let’s show you Jude’s floor.”

  He had his own floor? Holy crap.

  As they stepped off the elevator and her eyes lit on one of his large paintings, her mouth fell open. “My God, these are… exquisite.”

  Jude’s paintings were a celebration of human sexuality, a tribute to the beauty of human form. People of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Men and women. In repose, touching tenderly, making love. The forms had no faces and the renditions were not realistic portraits but, rather, blurred. Impressions and suggestions instead of too much detail. She didn’t have to know a lot about art to recognize the truth.

  The man was a master.

  Or had been before Dietz had destroyed his sight.

  Geneva touched her arm. “Aren’t they special? No one captured the joy of eroticism like Jude. They’re priceless.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  Lily glanced at the man in question to see him lounging against the wall, letting them look. How must this hurt him to never again take pleasure in his work, or in any aesthetic beauty around him?

  Lily admired each one, but grimaced at the two Liam had told her about that must’ve been from his “dark” period before his blindness. These angry, volatile renderings she hurried past.

  As she neared the end, one in particular caught her eye. This one was more detailed than the others. It was of a young man with a mop of black hair, longer in the front than the back, wearing an impish smile and nothing else. Gray eyes danced, shone with love. He lay on his back, legs spread, one knee cocked, hand reaching out, as though beckoning his lover to join him.

  “Liam,” she breathed.

  “Yes,” Geneva answered, a catch in her voice. “Our Liam. Devon and I commissioned this one for our private residence, but decided to display it in the gallery. It’s not for sale, nor will it ever be.”

  Our Liam. Could this be the reason behind Liam’s funk of late? Were they the ones he’d been meeting secretly? Was he in love with this vibrant couple? It would explain a lot. She didn’t know what to say.

  She turned back to the painting. Jude’s love for his work was evident in every brushstroke, in the way he saw the younger man, the way he would always remember him.

  Lily’s throat tightened with emotion. No one who could feel so deeply was as bad as Dietz claimed. No matter what Jude had done, there was good inside him.

  Turning away, she pretended to examine the rest of the paintings through watery eyes. A few minutes later, they were on their way again, heading toward the Sinclairs’ town house.

  If either of them noticed how profoundly she’d been affected by Jude’s work, they were too kind-or savvy-to mention it.

  ***

  Liam popped a bowl of popcorn, grabbed a Diet Coke, and slouched in his favorite chair in the media room. He tried to get into the third Lord of the Rings movie. Tried to forget that Dev and Geneva were having a great time without him. Were probably tangled up in a steamy four-way with his lusty friends.

  Christ, he wasn’t needy or clingy. He just wanted to be secure in his place in Dev’s and Geneva ’s hearts, but knew the couple needed their space. They didn’t do live-in, permanent lovers. Liam understood. He did.

  Fuck that. He was miserable. Sometimes he got so goddamned lonely waiting for the phone to ring, or for the message to appear in his e-mail.

  We miss you. Come tonight. Now.

  Or how about this one? Don’t ever leave us again.

  He’d long despaired of that ever becoming a reality.

  But with Lily’s arrival, hope had blossomed that finally things might change. Like she was some sort of omen or something. Jude might have a reason to quell his wandering spirit. Lily would make him happy, and it would rub off like magic dust on Dev and Geneva. Make them realize what they had with Liam was more than jus
t explosive sex.

  That they loved him.

  His biggest fear-that the two most important people in his world besides Jude would move on, without him. Wouldn’t need him anymore, wouldn’t want him in their lives. Like tonight.

  Liam would rather die than see that day come.

  The movie hit a quiet part and a noise caught Liam’s ear. A thump, a scrape. He bolted to his feet, bowl sliding off his lap, scattering popcorn everywhere. Whirling, he fixed his gaze on the door to the media room and the hallway beyond.

  Another faint noise, coming from downstairs.

  “Fuck me,” he whispered.

  He couldn’t stay here. The media room was a trap, no other way out. Leaving the movie going, he crept to the door, gathered his courage, and peeked out. The hallway was clear, so he tiptoed to the top of the stairs, looked down. The foyer was empty, no shadows moving, but he wished he’d left on more lights.

  Was his imagination running away with him? He’d stayed here alone many times over the years, for weeks on end. He wasn’t the nervous type, had never had a single problem with an intruder.

  But he had one now. Another thump, toward the living room window, made his heart kick into overdrive. Hurrying downstairs as quietly as possible, he crossed to the phone in the alcove off the foyer, the one with the landline, picked it up, and punched 911, then laid down the receiver. He couldn’t hang around to talk to the dispatcher. He had to get out of the house.

  Digging into his shorts, he palmed his cell phone, hands shaking. The noise was right in his path to the kitchen, where he’d laid the keys to his Porsche on the counter, and to the garage beyond. Which fucking way? If he ran out the front door, the closest escape, he’d be in the open without the relative safety and speed of his car.

  Dammit, he’d have to try for the car. He inched through the foyer and peered into the living room. One lamp was on, providing a pool of soft light. He didn’t see anyone and decided to take the risk.

  He hurried through the room and was halfway across when a man stepped casually from the dining room to block his path.

  A goddamned big man, wearing a black ski mask and holding a billy club.

 

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