by Jackson, Pam
She gave him a playful laugh. “So, Clay, you wanted me to face you. Is this how you want me?”
He was melting from the inextinguishable heat rising through his skin. His gut wrenched and his balls throbbed, and he knew he couldn’t control himself any longer.
He growled lustfully and closed the space between them. He moved his hands to her knees and pushed them outward to fit his body in between her luscious thighs.
“Christ, Andie. I get so damn hard just looking at you. For fuck’s sake, I ache so bad right now.” He clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick with the beat of his hammering heart. “I’m gonna come hard and long inside you, baby, and I want you to feel every hard inch of my dick. All for you. Let me know if I hurt you—I just can’t live with that.”
She said nothing, she just squeezed her thighs tighter around his waist and lifted herself to meet his mouth. She gently bit his lip and then placed a searing kiss to them. His control was shot to shit, and he guided the head of his heavy cock to the delicate tip of her clit. He circled the wet, soft peak and listened as her breathing became heavy with hunger for him.
“Do you want me, Andie?” he asked. He knew damn well what the answer was, but he wanted her to say the words. “Say it, darlin’. Tell me you need me just as much as I need you.”
She wouldn’t say it. She drew her knees and thighs in tighter against his muscular flanks, preventing him from moving in closer. He would shatter soon if she didn’t let him slip fully inside her so he could feel such sweet release.
She was diabolical, and she was beating him at his own little game of dominance. He didn’t know how long he could last, and he asked her again, “Andie, do you want me to fuck you?” His words were thick and deliberate, with an ounce of aggression from his urgency. “Tell me now, baby. Tell me you need me ... or I’ll die.”
He was so vulnerable, almost begging for her, and he didn’t care if he lost this juvenile game of chicken. He watched her eyes flare with passion as she confidently smirked.
“No, not yet. I want my way with you a bit longer,” she finally replied with a dry edge.
Shit! He was probably spent just hearing her decline him in such an erotic way.
She pushed him back with her palms, and her hands descended to his ruddy cock. She replaced his hand with hers, and she began slowly working his shaft with long, slow pulls. He shuddered under her touch, and he almost swallowed his own tongue as he felt the grip of her free hand around his pounding balls.
“Andie, you’re killing me.” He gritted his teeth to hold back the pressure that was edging toward an explosion.
“You want me to let you in? Are you up for it, Clay? Can you make me scream?” Her questions dripped with dominance.
He was being baited, and he wasn’t going to fall for her bittersweet torment. “Yeah, darlin, I’m more than man enough to give you what you need—the sweetest gratification you’ll ever have. Now open to me and let me fuck you right.”
Her eyes blazed, and she squirmed on the table. He wanted to slide into her now, but he managed to hold back as he cupped her ass in his large hands to bring her closer to him. He waited, his gaze meeting her glowing stare, and he acknowledged her unspoken permission to penetrate her. He thrust his hard shaft deep inside her, instantly driving him close to insanity. He drew a deep breath as he listened to her heavenly cries of pleasure and pumped at her harder and faster. Her heels were digging into the contracted muscles of his backside, pulling him closer and urging him on, her arms wrapping around his neck, letting him know she was delighted by his boldness. And those amazing eyes, beautiful and powerful, stared directly into his. He was completely enraptured, and so was she.
Her release came fast with a beautiful siren’s scream, and he could feel her muscles squeeze tightly around his ramming cock. It was almost too much for him to take, and he felt his balls spasm. He shouted out a powerful, raw groan of absolute fucking bliss and came so hard that his vision became hazy and narrowed. He collapsed onto her and met her lips for a sweet and gentle kiss.
He wrapped his powerful arms around her in a protective embrace and he felt her squeeze him back. The warmth of their bodies, skin on skin, the cadence of their heartbeats slowing to a natural rate, and the silence of the cavern surrounding them were just as pleasing as a warm bed on a cold day.
Chapter 22
The perfect pitch of Bill Withers’s voice singing “Ain’t No Sunshine” echoed along the mahogany paneled corridor leading to Giovanni Tivoli’s office. Duke Henderson, a meticulous servant, noted that Tivoli had been holed up in his private office most of the morning and afternoon listening to that song over and over again—five hours and seventeen minutes, to be exact. Duke’s miniscule heart actually ached for his boss, and he knew Tivoli’s despondent mood was the result of Andie betraying his trust and rejecting his adoration. Duke often wondered why Tivoli was so consumed by her, considering how the little bitch shot down all of Tivoli’s affectionate advances. She worked here every day, side by side with him, knowing his obsession with her. She was nothing more than a cock tease, and Duke would be elated when Tivoli finally punished her for the mockery she’d made of him and, of course, for disgracing the reputation of the company.
It was time that Duke checked in with his master and gave him an update on the location of the foul shrew. Hopefully, she would be apprehended soon.
Standing in front of the massive doors, he could faintly smell the wood as he placed his pointy nose against the door. He took a moment to compose his thoughts and straightened his olive green bowtie before knocking. Tivoli was not a fan of formalities when he was waiting for an update from his staff—with the exception of Andie, of course. That dirty whore could talk nonsense endlessly with Tivoli, and he would listen to every word she said as if it were a court hearing.
Duke rapped his bony, white knuckles against the wood and wondered if he should knock again before the somber song repeated. Before he could, the door opened wide, and he found his master standing in the doorway.
“Come in, Duke. What do you have for me?”
Duke blinked rapidly at his vanquished leader. Tivoli’s clothes, usually pressed perfectly, now looked wrinkled and slept in, and Duke noticed a scruffy stubble starting to rise out of Tivoli’s angled jawline.
Tivoli looked humbled and saddened, and this made Duke’s cold blood rise to a tepid temperature. Duke had never seen Tivoli this dejected in all the many years he had faithfully served him. The usual harsh and abrupt tone Tivoli took with him at their daily meetings had been replaced by a dull monotone. This was not the same man who could demoralize his competition with just a gaze from his steely, blue eyes—this was a crippled man with a broken heart.
She’ll pay for this.
“Have you heard from Eberstark?” Tivoli asked with a politeness that sounded like weakness to Duke’s ratlike ears.
“No, sir. But the GPS trackers placed in the men’s boots have seemed to malfunction.”
“Malfunction?” Tivoli said in a more biting tone.
This, of course, made Duke feel more at ease.
“Yes. I have some satellite images to show you of their last location, as well as Andie’s ...”
“Andie? Wait. Do you have a tracker on Andie? Come in, Duke, and sit.”
Duke walked into the mahogany chamber and hesitantly took a seat in front of Tivoli’s desk. This was awkward for Duke; never had he been allowed to sit while reporting in on daily business for Tivoli.
It was best for Duke to relay all his findings immediately, before he became too comfortable in the soft Italian leather chair. His boss was clearly unhinged, and there was no telling what might happen next, so spitting it out fast was optimal.
Duke handed Tivoli a black USB flash drive to place in the new laptop that replaced the one he’d broken to bits during their last meeting.
Tivoli placed it into the drive slot and remotely turned off the heavy-hearted Bill Withers tune. He tapped a key on a remote to
turn on a large flat screen mounted on the wall. The screen displayed the satellite images downloaded from the flash drive.
On the screen was a swath of frosty white terrain. The image revealed a desolate, rocky landscape covered in fresh white snow and green pine trees. An A-frame house and a small barn with sharp angles were the only sign of habitation in the area. The house sat at the southwest corner of the screen, and to the north lay sporadic clumps of evergreen trees leading to a small swamp surrounded by spindly, dead trees and a brown ridge of earth alongside a gorge. In the distance was a river. The northeast portion of the screen was almost completely white except for a dilapidated shack with pine trees sporadically placed within a mile or two of its location.
Three red computer-generated circles encompassed the house, the hunting shack, and the swamp. Duke noticed Tivoli squinting with confusion, and he carefully began his report, reminding himself to get to the point. Frivolous descriptions of rugged landscapes and geological masses might aggravate his boss to the edge of manslaughter.
“The first signal, which lasted several minutes, was picked up from Andie’s cellphone at the A-frame house the day of the storm,” Duke said, pushing his glasses up on his thin nose. “Perhaps she was checking her messages. The signal disappears after that and does not return until the following evening at a location near this shack.”
“And what of Eberstark? Where is he during all of this?” Tivoli’s gaze narrowed at the screen.
“Luca and his men first give off signals along a two-mile radius of the swamp land.” Duke stood and pointed to an area in between the house and the ridge area that was bordered by a grove of large, leafless trees. “These signals were activated the morning after the storm, in accordance with your command that Luca start the GPS when Andie was located. But within an hour of Luca Eberstark’s GPS transmitter being turned on, one of his men’s trackers went still and hasn’t moved since. And the second man has a lost satellite transmission somewhere farther out by the river. But I’m sure it’s just a glitch, sir.”
“A glitch!” Tivoli snapped. “And what do you mean by ‘went still’? Did this man just decide to take a nap in the middle of the forest? Or is he dead? And who killed him, Duke? Eberstark is a pro, and he hires men of the same caliber, with the same thirst for blood that he himself exhibits. He started the GPS signal when he found Andie. I highly doubt my little lamb murdered one of Eberstark’s men. What did she do, Duke? Kill him with a five-inch heel from her Loubitins?!”
Duke cleared his throat and continued in his normal nervous cadence. “Well, from what I was told by your informant at the State Department, who actually was able to get the satellite images for me, as well as interpret the data in layman’s terms, this is what is known as a clusterfuck. That is what he told me to tell you, sir.”
Tivoli turned and came at Duke so fast he thought he might faint from the sheer wild rage on Tivoli’s face. “A what?! Did you just call this a clusterfuck, Duke? Because I still don’t know what the hell I’m looking at! All I see is a fucking pile of snow and some red circles. So before I take your head off and feed it to the strays in the park, tell me what the bloody hell is going on!”
Duke felt Tivoli’s heated, bourbon-scented breath panting in his face, and he suddenly realized the collar of his shirt was now fisted in Tivoli’s hands. It would be easier to blurt out everything he had been told by the informant rather than making an elaborate presentation to Tivoli, who evidently had just lost the last ounce of his patience and was ready to slaughter Duke on the spot.
“I ... I was told that you are under FBI investigation because of your ties to Vincente Ospina. But don’t worry, they have nothing on you,” Duke sputtered, inconspicuously trying to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth. “They’ve been following Andie around, too. But they can’t make a case unless she testifies, and surely Eberstark will get to her before the feds do. So ... so there is nothing to worry about, sir.”
Tivoli let go of Duke and moved toward the flat screen. Duke straightened his twisted collar and retied his bowtie as he watched Tivoli run a finger along the perimeter of the A-frame house and then trace the red circles surrounding the areas of the GPS transmissions.
Tivoli rubbed at the light scruff at his chin and neck and let out a soft moan that bothered Duke on a new level when it came to his boss’s nuances.
“Why was I just informed about this now? Tivoli asked. “I pay that shithead informant handsomely for privileged government information, especially when it concerns me!”
“Yes, sir, you do pay him well, but he swears he was just given this information yesterday and is trying desperately to find out more details.”
Tivoli let out a loud sigh and again touched the red circle surrounding the grove with his finger. Duke didn’t interrupt him, since he could clearly see Tivoli focusing on the screen with laserlike eyes and the grinding jaw of a junkyard dog.
Several minutes passed, and then Tivoli broke the silence in the room. “Duke, you said that one transmitter went still and the other seems to be offline. But what of Eberstark’s?”
“Well, it seems that Eberstark’s went offline, too. But then we recovered a sudden, short ping several hours later. This could indicate that the device might be damaged or wet.”
“I see.” Tivoli straightened, pushed his fingers through his short, blond hair and walked behind his beloved desk. He sat and placed his palms flat against its surface. “I believe that Luca Eberstark found our little lost lamb right there in that grove, but something unexpected happened, and Eberstark was caught off guard or was ambushed. But by whom? Surely not Andie. She could not take out a trained assassin and then send Eberstark and his other man into the water to compromise their transmitters. Bollocks! She had help. The little bitch not only betrayed me, but she betrayed me with a hired gun.” He shook his head in disbelief and let out a hiss from between his teeth. “For fuck’s sake! She has broken my heart for the last time, Duke. Get the helicopter fueled and ready to go at first light tomorrow, and give the pilot these coordinates. I can’t rely on Eberstark or the possibility he’s still alive. I’m going to get her myself—and then kill her. But first, I must clean up this FBI mess. Get me that idiot informant on the phone, immediately.”
Chapter 23
Andie slipped her hiking boots back on and laced them tightly. She shrugged into her ski jacket and was grateful for the warm layers. The beads of sweat that had covered her body just minutes ago now caused her to shiver as her body cooled in the damp cavern. Her eyes shot to Clay as she watched him pull his T-shirt over his sculpted chest and button his black fatigues. He stepped back, tripping over his own boots, and she was amused by his confusion. She smiled, knowing that she’d had a hand in that—but then again, her own head was still swimming from the intense orgasm he’d just given her.
“Yeah, I see you laughing at me, sweetheart. I think it’s just the stale air in here that’s makin’ me a bit wobbly.” He smiled and blew her a kiss.
“Well, let’s get out of here and back to your house. A hot shower would be so divine right about now.” She stood and walked to where Clay had placed the Atros Fallis on the ground, and she noticed the lockboxes full of gold.
She felt Clay sidle up behind her and wrap one strong arm around her waist. The other hand pushed away her hair as he began to place tiny, sweet kisses along the length of her neck. “Don’t get any ideas, lady. After that ass-kicking you just gave me, I couldn’t possibly carry that heavy load out and back to the cabin. Besides, it’s not ours to take. It belongs to ol’ Claudius, and it could stay locked up here for three more centuries, for all I care. Right now, all I care about is that shower you just mentioned and getting you naked ... again.”
Andie laughed and felt Clay’s arms tighten around her waist. Then she heard the awful, muffled thud of something heavy hitting something fleshy. Her heart jumped in her chest as she felt Clay’s large mass pin her to the cold floor. His weight was dead, and she gasped for air
as she realized he was unconscious on top of her. He was hurt, and she felt something warm and wet trickle down the back of her neck. Blood—Clay’s blood! She screamed his name, but he didn’t move. Then his body was off of her, and she found herself in the rough grip of Luca Eberstark.
She screamed Clay’s name again, but there was no response. The sudden, harsh sting of a powerful hand slapping her cheek took her by surprise as she stared into the craggy, ugly face of Luca Eberstark. His temples pulsed at the sides of his shaved head, and his dark, sunken eyes squinted at her with fury.
“Shut up, hündin! If it were up to me, I would kill you here. But Tivoli will only pay me if you are returned to him alive.”
“What did you do to him?! Clay ... Clay ... please, no. Wake up! Please!” She frantically screamed and tried to pull away from Eberstark’s grip, but it was no use. He was extremely strong. He threw her across the room, where she landed against the side of the Chippendale breakfront. Heavy, old books tumbled out of the glass doors and on top of her, and her vision doubled from the crashing blow. She could barely make out the outline of Clay’s lifeless body heaped against the rock floor. She eyed Clay’s thigh holster on the ground next to him, his Colt 1911 still holstered. She tried crawling for it, but pain burned her scalp as Eberstark violently grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet.
“Ahh, yes—you want to kill me with his gun? No! I think not. He will need it to kill himself after he wakes up and finds there will be no way out. Sealed up in here for eternity is a fitting end for your hero. He will eat his gun for sure and die like a coward,” Eberstark said in a thick, coarse accent.
Andie’s stomach churned with fear and dread as she realized Clay wasn’t dead, just badly hurt. She could see bright red blood pooling next to Clay’s head, and she noticed the broken stock of an eighteenth century Brown Bess rifle splintered beside his still body—Eberstark had hit Clay so hard it shattered the walnut stock into three large pieces.