The Seduction of Arabella Quinn

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The Seduction of Arabella Quinn Page 14

by Caryn Carter


  Her knees wobbled. She still had her bra on so she reached behind her back and unsnapped the hooks while he slanted his lips over hers. His tongue slid inside her mouth and culled the moisture from it. The ache inside her was close to unbearable but she didn't want him to stop. She liked being half out of her mind when he entered her.

  Grasping his penis with one hand, she slipped the other under his testicles, flexing her fingers around the heavy sacs until he wanted to come right then in her hand. He spread-eagled his legs to give her all the access she wanted, gritting his teeth and shaking his head to clear it as wave after wave of heat rushed through him.

  She knew he was right on the edge, so she slowed her movements to a caress, stroking him up and down, her own core ready to melt as he thrust his finger inside her again. She didn't want to come like this either, so she eased herself back on the bed taking him with her.

  From her position, his erection was a thing of beauty, harder and thicker than she remembered, in a word, magnificent. Her mouth watered and more moisture pooled between her thighs. During her ride home, she'd thought of nothing but having him inside her again and to have him waiting for her at her door had been an unbelievable joy. She didn't want to wait another minute for the ecstasy he promised. She wanted him now. She lifted her hips and tried to guide him inside.

  Nick quickly grasped her wrist. He couldn't believe he had actually stopped her when he was so close to the heaven she promised, but he had.

  "What's wrong?" she asked, a touch of alarm in her voice.

  He reached over and picked up his wallet.

  She crinkled her eyes and her lips turned up in an, 'oh-now-I-know-why' grin. "Do you have to?" She couldn't hide her disappointment.

  "Yes. It would be reckless of me not to."

  With a sigh, she lay back on the bed and waited for him to sheath himself. When he was finished, he lowered himself on top of her, the head of his penis teasing open the waiting folds between her legs.

  With one thrust he was inside her. "I've been burning for you all night," he blurted out in a tortured, painfully true admission. No one had ever been able to make him crash and burn like she did.

  "Me too," she whispered, her voice quivering, her breasts heaving from the excitement he generated throughout her body. A low moan caught in her throat as the pleasure he was pulling from the pit of her belly overwhelmed her.

  But it wasn't just the pleasure he brought her that had her wanting to shout ... it was the way he made her feel all over, the way he touched her mind, her heart. Yes, he had the power to do things to her beyond mere sexual gratification. She was enamored with him. No, if she was honest with herself it was more than that. She was afraid she might be falling in love with him.

  When his mouth clamped down on her breast, tugging at her nipple until it tightened and pulled breathy whimpers of pleasure from her, it was with an enlightened knowledge of her feelings for him that she responded. Eager for him to take as much of her as he wanted, she pushed upward. He could have any part of her, any way he wished. She would surrender her soul to him if he asked. A frightening thought. A thought that raised her arousal to a pitch she could no longer control.

  When Bella's muscles closed around him, Nick was overcome with the need to pour himself inside her, to bathe the insides of her satiny flesh with all the heat he possessed. Maybe soon he'd take the chance. Take the chance? What was he thinking? Was he going crazy?

  The thought itself fueled the fire that was already raging inside him, all reason stopped, and he gave himself up to the inferno that threatened to consume them both. He lost touch with reality, with his own heartbeat.

  Then reality was right there in front of him again when Bella cried out his name between breaths that cooled the beads of sweat across his brow. Raking her nails down his forearms, she thrust against him, out of control, pulling at him, clawing at his body, his mind, his soul. He gave himself up to the heat, to her. This was what he had waited for all these years.

  His eruption seemed like it would never end. He didn't want it to end. He wanted it to go on and on, forever and ever--till death.

  The last of himself spent, he collapsed over her, depleted, her own exhaustion sinking her body under his weight. He waited until he could breathe again without laboring before he passed his lips over her face, touching her lightly, her eyes, her nose, her mouth that opened willingly again under his. Such sweetness after such fire. How could he ever let her go now?

  Moments became minutes and when enough time had passed that she knew the afterglow was just as wonderful as what had gone before, Nick rolled off of her, slipping one arm under her neck, the other around her waist. She snuggled close against him. He put his mouth to her ear.

  "Tell me about this other sister of yours and why it was so important for you to leave like you did." After she finished telling him, he'd find some way to ask her about the cruise she was prepared to take. He had to know where he stood before he made his next move. He had to know how big a risk he was preparing to take.

  "We don't speak of Carmella very often," Bella said softly, drawing his body closer to hers. "We see her even less. As a matter of fact, when I saw her last night it was the first time since my father's death over five years ago."

  "Why so long?"

  Bella sighed and nestled her head in the crook of his arm. Her breath tickled his ribs when she spoke. "Carmella left home sixteen years ago when she turned eighteen. Her reason for leaving broke my parents' hearts. My mother blames Carmella's choice of occupation for hastening my father's death."

  "Oh. What does she do?"

  "Ever heard of Voluptua?"

  He couldn't hide his surprise. "The stripper on Bourbon Street?"

  "One and the same."

  Voluptua was just that--voluptuous, and appropriately named with knockers the size of watermelons. And now that he knew there was a relationship between her and Bella he could see the resemblance. Same blazing red hair, same bountiful breasts. He moaned. Just thinking of Bella's breasts had his cock rearing its head again. He placed a palm over one of her breasts and massaged the nipple tenderly with the pad of his thumb.

  "She's a gorgeous broad," he said, in the midst of a yawn, then realized that was probably not the kind of reaction Bella would appreciate. "But I can probably see why your parents might be a little upset."

  "Upset is hardly the word." She paused for a second, took a deep breath, then continued. "My father had his first heart attack a month after she left and he was never the same after that. He begged her for months to come back home but she refused. Finally, he gave up, heartbroken. He cut her out of his will. Said he no longer had three daughters. Only two."

  "So no one stays in touch with her?"

  "For a few years after she left, my mother kept in touch with her. She took Franny and I to see her once when my father was out of town, but he found out about it and ordered her never to see Carmella again. It upset him so much he had another heart attack and had to be hospitalized for weeks."

  "And no one has seen her since then?"

  "I saw her not long after my father died, when the insurance money came in. Even though he had cut her out of his will, I felt guilty about not sharing the inheritance with her. I offered her a portion of my share, but she refused. So I loaned the money I would have given to Carmella to Franny to buy her first house. When she divorced and paid the balance of what she owed me, I bought this house and used the rest of the inheritance I'd saved to buy the travel agency."

  So that was where the money came from. Why didn't he think of something along those lines? Why? Because he was so certain of her guilt he never considered she'd come by the money legally. Jesus, how could he have been so narrow-minded? So damned unprofessional?

  Bella ran a finger along his jawline, laughing at the rasping sound it made.

  "When was the last time you shaved?"

  He struggled to remember what day it was. "Yesterday morning, I think."

  "Yesterday?
What happened to this morning?"

  Should he tell her the truth? Maybe a half-truth? "I kept an eye out for you all night. I was worried about you."

  Bella popped up on an elbow and stared down at him, surprise lifting her brows. "You did what?"

  "You heard me. I was worried about you, so I kind of spent the night waiting for you. It was good for me. It's been a long time since I pulled an all-night surveillance." A heaviness was settling over his body, numbing his limbs and his brain. He pulled in a breath to stall another yawn that was creeping up on him, and said more for his benefit than hers, "But it's over now, and I think I need to get some sleep."

  She settled back down in the crook of his arm and stretched her body along his, her warmth seeping into his bones.

  "What made you go to your sister at this point in time? And why stay the night?"

  "The doctor called me at work late yesterday afternoon. My mother's condition is worse than they suspected. They're operating day after tomorrow. Dr. Ellis is an old friend of the family and he asked me to try to get Carmella to go see my mother. It seems my mother has confided in him for years. She's been grieving for Carmella all that time."

  Bella draped an arm across his chest and pressed close to him. "When I left work, I went straight to Carmella's apartment in the Quarter but she was already at the Club. So I went there. She couldn't talk to me then, she'd was being fitted for new costumes." She sighed wearily, and after a lapse of a few seconds, continued. "She gave me her key and told me she'd be home around three in the morning. We talked for hours over breakfast."

  "Did she agree to go see your mother?"

  "She said she'd think about it. I hope she does. For my mother's sake, as well as her own. If something happens to my mother, and Carmella doesn't go, she'll probably regret it one day."

  Nick started to relax a little. Everything was beginning to fall into place, except of course, the most important thing. If Bella wasn't implicated in what went down seven years ago, and if she really was through with Kevin, why was he calling her?

  There was still the matter of the two cruise tickets, too. He should just come right out and ask her. Tell her he saw them on the hall table. But then he'd have to explain why he looked in the envelope. He would do it soon. But not now. He was too tired, and besides, he hadn't had enough of her yet. "Bella?"

  "Yes?" She squirmed against him and her hand drifted down to his abdomen. His groin tightened. "I need to get a little shut-eye."

  She slid her hand around his hip and nestled her head under his chin. "Me too."

  "But not for too long. We have some unfinished business to take care of. And this time I don't want us to be rushed."

  "Umm." She tightened her arm around his hip. "Nick?"

  He was so close to sleep he barely had the strength to answer. "Yes?"

  "I'm glad you waited for me."

  He hugged her closer. "Me too."

  There were still things unresolved, but they could wait another few hours until he was wide awake and had his fill of her again. Then, when his body and his mind were soothed, he'd run it all by Vince again and they'd reassess everything.

  He felt sleep closing in on him. Bella stirred in his arms and the last thing he remembered was wishing he could fall asleep every night in just this way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was almost noon by the time Nick made it to the office on Friday morning. He'd left Bella about ten-thirty, after barely two hours of sleep, and gone straight home to shower and dress. He would have preferred spending the entire day in bed with her sampling all the many delights her body had to offer, but he had work to do.

  He shut off the car's engine and leaned back, allowing himself a few moments to relive the early morning hours. Bella was a generous lover, more than willing to pleasure him in any way he chose and in just as many other ways she devised.

  Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to his relationship with Debbie. The sex has been good. At the time he'd thought it was great. But now, after having had sex with Bella, looking back on what he and Debbie had, and the sex he'd had with a few other women since then, he knew he had only sampled the appetizers. Bella was the full course, dessert and all. He passed his tongue over his lips at the thought of how sweet she tasted and how the time was going to crawl before he tasted that sweetness again.

  For now though, duty called, he reminded himself, opening the car door to a hint of Fall just around the corner for the first time that year. He pulled in a lung full of air, surprised at how energized he felt after so little sleep and so much sex.

  "Well, it's about time," Inez chuckled, when he opened the door to the office. She was checking her makeup in the little hand mirror she kept in the middle desk drawer. He glanced at his watch. It must be a payday Friday and she was heading for the bank and lunch. He suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten anything since the doughnuts the night before.

  "Can you pick me up a sandwich?" he asked, fishing his wallet from his back pocket and tossing a twenty on her desk.

  Inez didn't look away from the mirror. "Ham and cheese or roast beef?"

  Today he felt like red meat. "Roast beef, dressed, plenty of gravy. And an order of potato salad and a bag of chips," he added.

  "My, my, we're hungry today. Have a rough night?"

  Very few things escaped Inez and he hadn't been able to keep his association with Bella a secret. He hadn't really tried, because after all, it was business and Inez was privy to every job he worked on.

  The door opened and Sarah, the young woman who came in three times a week to help Inez, bounced in with the usual energy of a twenty year old. She gave him one of her bright, metallic smiles, compliments of a mouth full of braces, and rushed to her desk to answer the phone.

  He waited to see if the call was for him, and when it wasn't, entered his office. After settling himself in the chair behind his desk, he picked up the folders of new jobs that had come in that morning. Vince's car wasn't in the parking lot when he pulled up, so he figured he'd do some work until Vince returned.

  He was elbow deep in figuring job estimates when Vince stepped into the office an hour later, his face lined with worry, his suit coat draped over his arm.

  Nick was taken aback by the way Vince's shirt hung loosely on his frame, which, he realized, was much leaner than it had been just a few weeks before. Struck again by the weariness and defeat that sagged his partner's shoulders, Nick hitched his chin toward one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  "Take a load off."

  Vince shook his head and walked over to the water cooler in the corner of Nick's office. He filled a cup with water and chugged it down in two swallows, then turned back to Nick. "How's the Pitre case coming?"

  It was on the tip of Nick's tongue to remind Vince that what they were working on wasn't technically a case, but a personal score the two of them felt the need to settle. He decided to let the remark pass and leaned forward, hesitant about voicing his reservation about Bella's guilt or innocence to Vince again after their last heated discussion on the subject. But he felt he had to. He owed it to Bella. He owed it to himself.

  His doubts about Bella's guilt were well-founded and to stick to their present course because of a vendetta against Pitre, was just plain stupid. If this were a paying case they would never allow themselves to be stuck with tunnel vision and refuse to consider alternatives. He had to make Vince see that. Nick took a deep breath. "Vince, I really think we need to talk some more about Arabella Quinn."

  Vince pitched the empty paper cup into the trash receptacle and spun around to face Nick. Even from across the room, Nick could see the flashes of anger in his partner's eyes. Vince marched toward Nick's desk, stopped short in the middle of the room and thrust his fingers through his thinning hair. Hair, Nick noted, that was long overdue for a haircut. An anomaly for Vince, who had always been meticulous in his grooming.

  "Nick, I'm not going to listen to any more of that crap about being on the wrong track. I know my s
ource, and I'm telling you she has the money."

  "Suppose she had it then, but doesn't have it now?" Nick asked, trying to find a reasonable explanation to satisfy Vince.

  With the speed of a much younger man, Vince rushed to the front of Nick's desk and slapped both palms on the slick mahogany surface, scattering most of the loose papers to the floor.

  "And where the hell do you think it would be? Are you telling me you believe she had a change of heart one day and flushed all that dough down the sewer? What the fuck is the matter with you? Have you lost your senses? Are you living in the real world, boy?"

  Maybe Vince was right, maybe he was losing touch with reality. But he also knew something wasn't adding up, unless he was really being blindsided by Bella.

  "Then where else do we look? I've turned her house inside out. You've done an extensive search into her background. She has no safe deposit boxes either in state or out that you could find, and I found no keys that belonged to any. I also just found out that she came by her house and her business legitimately. An inheritance from her father."

  Vince's head shot up. "Nice of you to tell me," he snapped.

  He was the one irritated now. "Dammit, I told you, Vince, I just found it out."

  Six weeks ago when Vince first approached him with a way they could find the evidence they needed to gain justice for Debbie's death as well as Vince's ex-partner, he had jumped at the chance. Vince's idea of the two of them finding the money themselves before the cops did, so they could make certain another dirty deal didn't go down, had sounded good at the time. But a lot had changed since then.

  Vince made a second trip to the water cooler, pulled down a cup from the attached cup holder, crushed it in his fist and flipped it in the trash without filling it. He walked back over to Nick's desk, seemingly a little calmer.

  "Look, Nick, we got a break. A break that will put that bastard away again. It's what we both want, isn't it?" Vince paused to see if Nick had anything to say. He didn't, so Vince continued, "It's a stroke of luck that Pitre's partner was a rookie seven years ago, too scared to rat on Pitre, so he cut himself in instead. He's been around long enough now to know that Pitre probably has no intention of dealing him in when he gets out and meets up with the money. It's also physically impossible for him to keep tabs on that Quinn woman twenty-four-seven."

 

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