DeadlySuspicious.epub

by Amarinda Jones

  Sirius broke off the kiss. “You know, if we’re forgetting stuff, let’s have one more thing to forget.” He rolled her over and under him. “On your knees,” he whispered against her ear.

  She caught her breath. Denby knew what he wanted. She wanted it too. And damn it, I won’t be able to forget that ever.

  “Denby?”

  “Yes?” Anything.

  “Please.” He lifted up on his hands, biceps bulging.

  “Yes.” Her back touched his chest as she got onto her knees, ass lifted towards him.

  “Beautiful.” Sirius caressed the curve of her butt.

  Denby sighed and pushed back against him, eager to be filled. The first thurst into her cunt from behind make her legs shake. When he shoved two fingers into her ass, she shrieked. Oh yessss.

  He leaned in over her. “Okay?”

  His breath was hot against her neck. “Yes. Fuck me. Hard.”

  “Gonna be difficult to forget that,” Sirius chuckled as he began pumping in and out of both holes growling with satisfaction at the sound of their flesh slapping together.

  Denby whimpered loudly as she tried to keep pace. She knew someone in another room would hear her. But, it was a motel. People had to expect motel sex would be had. She loved it when he mounted and trapped her body like this. It was the only time she was ever submissive.

  “So damn much to forget. Let’s make it worthwhile amnesia.”

  When Sirius pulled out of her, she knew what he was about to do. She pushed back to receive the first thrust of his dick into her ass. That really made her yell because it burned hot and deep. They had done it a couple of times in the past. It always hurt but she liked it because it made her feel like her body was alive and on fire with a need only he could satisfy. She could barely catch her breath at the force and pace of his thrusts. She was shaking and panting, needing him to stop but wanting him to go faster, deeper. When he came inside her, Denby cried out and he slapped her ass and laughed. She knew his cum would soon be oozing out of her body onto the sheets when they parted but she didn’t want to move just then. Denby wanted to hold on to the feeling.

  “You’re beautiful,” Sirius whispered against her ear. “And I swear I’ll forget this moment.”

  “Me too.” Not.

  They were such liars.

  * * * * *

  They had been on the road, heading towards Townsville, when Denby decided she had to talk about last night. She had tried to tell herself it was sex and nothing else. But it was more than that.

  Way more. That Sirius had not said a thing about what happened between them, as he had promised her, was driving her crazy. “Last night—”

  “The thing we did that doesn’t mean anything and we were never going to speak about?”

  “Yeah, that.” Did he think it meant something? Was he just being all in control and sensible about? Damn it, why can’t I? Was it just because my ass is still burning?

  He glanced at Denby briefly. “What about it?”

  “Er, well, I guess it was nothing.” Exactly. It was nothing, you big ninny. Get over it. “Forget I mentioned it.”

  Sirius took one hand off the wheel and reached over to squeeze her upper thigh. “Nothing between us is so damn good.”

  She felt the heat rush to her face at his words and gulped. So he felt something too. Where did that leave them? “How far to go?”

  “I think we’re getting closer every second.” He placed his hand back on the wheel.

  “To Cairns I mean.”

  He grinned. “That’s what I meant too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tasha Knowles lessened the hold on her gun when she saw them. “Rabid! I nearly shot you.

  What on earth are you doing here? Why are you suddenly wearing a shirt? I’ve never seen you dressed, or standing up for that matter.” She looked him up and down. “You’re much taller standing up.” She turned her attention to Denby. “Who’s the redheaded chick?” The gun came up again.

  “Who are you?” Denby responded, defiant despite the gun. Chick? Who does this chunky sheila think she is?

  “I asked first.”

  Denby arched one brow and assessed her. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Attitude to burn. She liked it.

  “I’m a visitor. You’re supposed to be polite.”

  “I have a gun. I don’t have to be polite.”

  Denby motioned to Sirius. “He also has a gun and he likes me.”

  The man in question held up his hands. “I’m not going to shoot anyone and neither are you, Tasha. This is Denby Dumaresq. She’s a friend.”

  The gun lowered marginally. “And?”

  “My real name is Sirius Tate.”

  Tasha tilted her head on the side. “You don’t look like a Sirius. I like the name Rabid better. You were all Zen-like when you were sitting quietly meditating.”

  That surprised Denby. She looked at the man beside her. That explained the dreadlocks. What had driven him to change so drastically? Was it just her? Or had the Committee drained him?

  “I was trying to find some peace,” Sirius told Tasha. “I used to be on the Jacobson Committee.”

  Tasha was agog. “No fucking way!”

  “Way,” Denby chimed in. “That’s how I met him.”

  Sirius smiled mischievously and pointed to Denby. “Now to really surprise you, she’s Jacobson’s daughter.”

  The gun came back up. “No fucking way!” Tasha repeated looking from one to the other as if trying to assess who was the bigger threat.

  Denby didn’t have time for this. Tasha was one of the women she wanted to meet. As meetings went, gunpoint wasn’t an auspicious beginning. “In every possible fucking way so put the gun down or I swear I’ll kick your ass.” She was there to help them, not fight them.

  Tasha looked from Sirius to Denby. “Is she kidding me?”

  “Nope.”

  “This is all pretty weird,” Tasha said dropping the gun to her side. “How did you find us?”

  “Word of mouth on the street in Brisbane said you were headed north with a crew of people.”

  “And when we stopped at the local Daintree pub and asked about three women, two men and a baby, everyone was pretty quiet,” added Denby. At the time, the silence in the pub had been more telling than someone speaking. “But for a couple of Bundy rums and a packet of smokes, a gentleman called Snow told us where you were.” There was always someone who would sell their soul. His price was remarkably cheap.

  “Bloody Snow,” Tasha muttered. “He’s anyone’s for a rum.”

  It was then Tuck appeared. “Who are they?” He too had a gun in hand. He pushed someone behind him. The someone in question, Lois, ignored that and scrambled to get around him to have a look.

  “Why does everyone want to shoot us?” Denby surveyed the tall, golden haired man and the shorter, pregnant woman beside him. They were not the type of people you would pass by without noticing. That they appeared without either she or Sirius seeing them indicated they were using the dense foliage to their advantage. That was smart.

  “Instinct,” Tasha responded as she pointed to Denby. “She’s Jacobson’s kid.”

  Lois was surprised. “Seriously? She looks pretty normal.”

  Denby grinned. “Thank you—I think.” She wasn’t sure what she expected when she met these women but this wasn’t it. But then, heroes were just ordinary people called on to do the extraordinary.

  Tasha pointed to Sirius. “And this is Rabid.”

  “But he’s wearing a shirt.” Lois looked confused. “I thought you said he never wore a shirt, Tash.”

  “Not when I knew him in Brisbane. I thought he was all mystical and Zen-like. It turns out he is ex-Committee member,” her friend added. “Go figure.”

  Tuck stepped once more in front of Lois. “What do you want?”

  Sirius held his hands up “Hey man, drop the gun. I’m unarmed. Denby here wanted to find your lady friends.”

  “Why?” He asked.


  Denby was the first one to admit she had limited patience. Life had made her like that. She’d learned to think and act fast and she expected the same of others. “To be honest, now with guns aimed at me, I’m not so sure. The plan was to help you. Just because I’m tainted by a relationship with Jacobson, you want to shoot me. To be honest with you, I’m sure I can go elsewhere and be in just as much trouble in a less humid place without all this crap attitude.”

  “And no,” Sirius added, coming to her defense. “Denby isn’t her father’s daughter. She’s had a pretty rough time.” Sirius went on to tell them of them of the beatings, the jail time and the Draconian childhood she had endured.

  Denby was surprised. She never told him any of that. “You knew all that? How?”

  He turned to her. “Your father told me one night when he was drunk.”

  “He gets drunk?” The surprised Denby. Drunkenness was what human beings did. Her father wasn’t one of those. “He was always in control. In fact, he insisted upon it to the point of it being painful.”

  “Not always. I came very close to killing him when he told me about how he treated you. I would have if he was sober and it had been a fair fight.”

  “I wish you had killed him,” Tuck said, his arm going around Lois. “It would have done the world a favor.”

  Wylie appeared. “Who’s this?”

  Denby looked him up and down. Shoulder length brown hair, lean bodied with just the edge of a dark tattoo to be seen on his chest where skin met shirt. At least they were all memorable people.

  How many more of them were there? How did they appear from nowhere? Did they have a base nearby? She turned to Sirius. “Let me tell it this time.” He smiled and she turned back to them. “I’m Denby Dumaresq, Jacobson’s spawn, hence the reason I use another surname because Jacobson’s an asshole. This is Rabid, really known as Sirius Tate, ex-committee member. We travelled a bloody long way to join up with you people but all you seem to want to do is point guns at us and frankly I’m over it.”

  Wylie nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I thought Rabid didn’t wear a shirt?”

  Denby sighed. Shirt. No shirt. All moot but trivial. “Anyone else we have to tell this story to?”

  “Only Frances.” Lois called out to the woman. “The house isn’t far away.”

  Denby squinted. “I can’t see a thing for all the trees.”

  Tuck smiled. “That’s how we like it. We see you before you see us.”

  After a couple of minutes, Frances pushed through the undergrowth. “What is it?”

  “Visitors,” Lois responded, indicating Sirius and Denby.

  The older woman turned to them. When she saw Denby she stopped dead and stared at her, all the blood draining from her face. “Oh my god.”

  “Frances?” Lois rushed to her. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  The woman in question started to shake. “She looks like my mother.” Frances took two steps forward toward Denby, her eyes riveted on her features. “Who’s your father?”

  “She’s Jacobson’s kid,” Wylie said.

  Frances clutched at her chest. “She’s my granddaughter,” she choked out. Then she fainted.

  Epilogue

  Jacobson listened intensely to the man on the other end of the phone. “You’re sure it’s them? The old woman included?” He smiled when his source confirmed the information. “Good. Keep an eye on them.” He hung up without saying goodbye. He didn’t have to. He was the boss. He played by the rules that suited him. Other people's feeling didn't matter to him.

  He leaned back in his leather chair and thought about the situation evolving in the Daintree. They were dangerous people who had to be stopped before they recruited others to their cause. But, he had a couple of aces to play that would change the game dramatically. “I think it’s time to call in an old debt.”

  Jacobson reached over and pulled open a drawer and picked up a remote control. A panel in the wall before him slid across and a screen appeared. He touched another button and an image came onto the screen. It was of a naked man, on a rack. His hands and feet were tied down so he couldn’t move. Standing beside him another man was gouging a deep, dark dagger tattoo, none too carefully, into his skin. It had to have hurt yet the man didn’t flinch. Men who refused to show pain were useful. “My disciple,” Jacobson murmured as he watched the man being branded. It was time to use him again. “You can run, Mr. Smith, but you can never hide.”

  Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully.

  Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of.

  But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

  www.amarindajones.com

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