Silver Tongue (a PowerUp! story)

by Marie Harte

  Her stomach dropped. “I don’t think Dane will work.”

  “Funny you should say that. I tried to get his cooperation after filling him in about our side business and that we had a client needing help, and you know what? That clever, clever man put two and two together and requested you talk to him about it. If you don’t meet with him tonight at his place at nine, he’s not going to help us. And honestly, he seems like our best option to get an in with Cavendish. Our easiest option, at least.”

  Dane would be perfect. Shit. “This day just keeps getting better and better. Nine?”

  “Yeah, and wear something sexy.”

  “Ian.”

  He laughed. “His words, not mine. Good luck, Kitty. You’re going to need it.”

  Chapter Four

  In a private, upscale fighting club not on any map, Linda Cavendish sat outside the ring where two men scuffled, and smiled at her winning lover, so pleased to have found a man worthy of her. The only other man she’d ever felt so deeply about had dumped her not two months into their relationship. Rich, handsome, and cultured, Owen Stallbridge had broken her heart, and after all her months of planning and determination to become Mrs. Stallbridge.

  The ass.

  Morley James, on the other hand, made no pretense about what he wanted from her—respectability. Unlike Owen, Morley needed her. She’d discreetly opened doors for him that a once-poor kid from South Philly could never have managed. Despite his talents both in the ring and out, Morley remained two steps up from gutter trash. But he knew it and even welcomed the presumption, because it also put him two steps ahead of every idiot he’d ever fleeced.

  But not Linda. She’d seen right through his designer suits and ill-mannered attempts at charm to the intelligent beast within. Morley did his best work with his fists, and when not extorting money from some high roller or other, he helped crime syndicates and financed his own popular, underground fight clubs around town. In a city like Phoenix, hiding anything illegal took little ingenuity. Drugs and vice ran rampant. But to attract the clientele Morley wanted, Linda stepped in. Many of her quasi-friends had depths they never wanted anyone to know about. But Linda had resources. She knew of those with deep pockets, who appreciated violence as an art form, the way she and Morley did.

  Her lover climbed down from the ring, his bare knuckles bloody, his left cheek bruised, and his eyes glowing with that fever she knew all too well. She waited, breathless, for him to join her.

  In a low voice, he said, “You look stunning, as always.”

  His once-over made her proud. As his trainer left the small gymnasium, only Morley, her, and his sparring partner remained. Kyle, she thought his name was. A big blond with huge hands. She stood and smoothed down her clothes. She’d worn a white A-line skirt and sleeveless silk tank, sans the bra. She knew her nipples showed through the thin material, just as she knew how to play her part. The red-haired wig and brown contacts helped disguise her appearance. Only she and Morley knew about their relationship, and it worked well for them that way.

  Seeing Morley so mussed, so bloody, aroused her, as it always did. He was seven years her junior, though to look at them, one would think her the younger of the pair. She still had a bounce to her flesh and a healthy pink to her fine skin. Her forty-five looked more like thirty-five, thanks to modern science, and Morley had no qualms about letting her know how her appearance affected him.

  He pushed down his boxing shorts and cupped himself. Over his shoulder, she saw Kyle staring. Waiting.

  Like Pavlov’s dog, she instantly reacted. Her pussy flooded, and she turned and bent over her chair, pulling her skirt up to reveal her bare ass.

  Morley didn’t give her a hint of foreplay but shoved his cock into her wet pussy.

  In a silence broken only by his grunts and her light moans, Morley fucked her raw and came hard. Moments after he withdrew, another cock prodded her pussy. That lovely man, Kyle. He didn’t finesse either. In and out, shoving brutally deep. His silence exacerbated her need, and she squeezed him as hard as she could until he moaned and emptied into her, clutching her hips like a lifeline.

  After he’d finished and withdrew, she heard a door open and close, leaving her and Morley alone. Linda remained in position, quivering because she knew they hadn’t finished yet.

  “Someone’s been inquiring about The Little Death,” she thought she ought to mention. She’d been waiting for Owen to surface from wherever he’d been the past month. The bastard would want his precious art back, but she had no intention of giving it to him. In addition to its uniqueness, the thing had added value because he wanted it.

  “Hmm.” Morley palmed her ass, and she tensed, knowing what was to come. “You’re a whore, aren’t you?”

  God. She loved when he turned mean. “Yes.”

  He slapped her ass hard. “You like being gangbanged by anyone with a dick, don’t you?” He smacked her flank repeatedly until she cried out in pain. “You still want Stallbridge, don’t you?”

  Her discomfort increased his pleasure, and she reveled in it. “No more, Morley, please.” He wanted her to beg, lived for her pain. Good man that he was, he’d never injure her where anyone could see. No, Morley kept the beatings private, her aches an indulgence only the two of them ever shared.

  He slapped her ass again, then moved between her legs. He shoved her ankles apart before ramming himself inside her pussy. “I’m all nice and wet now, bitch. Sliding through another man’s cum because you can’t keep your legs closed,” he rasped and gripped her waist with bruising fingers. Without pause, he withdrew from her pussy and shoved into her ass.

  Though she’d been waiting for it, the pain took her breath away. Morley groaned with pleasure. “Fuck, you feel good.” He drove inside her for a few moments before he said, “So you think your boyfriend will send someone to get it?”

  How he could think when he fucked her so mercilessly was anyone’s guess, but she managed to answer, “Not my boyfriend. Not when I have you, baby.”

  “You’re damn right.” He pushed into her once more and cracked a hand against her already throbbing ass.

  The pained pleasure rocked her into an orgasm that robbed her of reason, and she heard him moan his climax as if from a distance.

  When Linda came back to herself once more, Morley withdrew, pushed down her skirt, and turned her so he could cradle her in his arms. Her white suit had creases and smears of his blood and cum all over it, and she felt more beautiful than she’d ever been with anyone else, to include that asshole Owen.

  “So you think Stallbridge will make a play for the statue?” he asked again.

  She shrugged. “Probably. But I couldn’t care less. I have you, and I have The Little Death. What else could I ask for?”

  He grinned, and his bright blue eyes looked better than sapphires against his darker skin.

  God, she loved him. She’d never let anyone or anything come between them. To include the sluts Morley didn’t think she knew about. Time to get her hands dirty again. She smiled up at him and suggested another round of sexual fun later that night, after the big match between the favored champion and the newcomer sure to get his ass kicked. They’d placed money on the sure thing. Just like she’d placed her trust in Morley. She couldn’t lose. She could feel it.

  * * * *

  Dane felt as if he’d been waiting years and not weeks to see Kitty again. He’d intentionally stayed away from the PowerUp! gym, but he’d been surprised his sister had as well. Though to be fair, she’d been so damn gaga about her engagement, it was a wonder she’d had the sense to breathe, and probably wouldn’t have if it hadn’t involved that idiot McKay.

  Dane still chafed about their official engagement. His sister wore her ring with pride, flaunting the friggin’ thing every time she so much as moved her hand. But that smile she wore was real. For as long as she wore it, he’d keep his fists to himself. The minute McKay showed his true colors, however, Dane planned to rip his goddamn head off.


  But Kitty… He couldn’t use the hall bathroom without remembering how hot that interlude had been. Kitty’s breasts were perfection. Enough to fill his big hands, so soft yet firm. The woman had a natural glow to her and a proclivity toward submission he could all but taste. She’d done what he’d ordered without hesitation, proving once again how right she’d been against him. All of his fantasizing had paled against the peaches-and-cream skin, those large, rosy nipples, and her amazing mouth. He’d wanted to go down on her like crazy.

  Now he was kicking himself for not taking the opportunity, because the woman had avoided him for two and a half weeks. Bugger of it was, he could almost count the minutes.

  For some odd reason, she’d burrowed into his head like a mental tick. But as much as he wanted her gone, he had a feeling she’d attached herself to his brain and wouldn’t leave. When Ian had called needing help, Dane had felt in his gut that Kitty had to be involved. The people at the PowerUp! gym weren’t normal. He could tell. All but four or five on them on staff had that something special he could just feel. It was nothing he could put his finger on, but an awareness he’d always been hard-pressed to explain.

  Dane relied on his instincts to steer him straight. Well, that and his lofty contacts who dabbled in information like he dabbled in art. His military friends confirmed that some of the PowerUp! trainers had worked for the government’s hush-hush sector. ’Nuff said.

  Dane didn’t need the picture painted for him, not when he’d seen how members at the gym and even his family reacted to Kitty. Not that she’d fucked with Dane that way. That red hair, Amazon’s build, and attitude had been a natural draw for him. But he’d seen how the people at the gym and Karen had just about melted at the woman’s feet. Not normal. And not something he could walk away from. She intrigued him, and he wanted more, which surprised him.

  Normally after fucking a woman, he’d move on. He might go out with her a few times, but inevitably boredom would set in. Dane didn’t do well with clingy, emotionally needy females. He’d already sensed that Kitty would be a handful. She’d tried to control their meeting together, yet he could see the submissive tendencies she no doubt fought hard to ignore.

  Now he’d have her, because her team needed help. He felt almost euphoric, knowing he once again had the upper hand. It didn’t bother him that Kitty would feel she’d been forced to come to him. He liked her fight, and he didn’t want her to capitulate too easily. That would spoil their fun.

  With Karen shacked up with McKay for the weekend, he had the house to himself. Eight o’clock ticked away until ten minutes remained until nine.

  Lights bounced along the drive toward the house. His pulse pounded, anticipation making him dizzy. He rubbed his cock, straining inside the jeans he wore. Fuck if he’d been able to think past burying himself inside Kitty after Ian had phoned to let him know she’d be coming.

  Coming all around him while he spent inside her tight body. The wicked thoughts refused to fade. He needed the woman, and she’d provide. That, or he’d refuse to help her. A dick move, but hell, he was desperate. He hadn’t been able to think of fucking another woman since meeting Kitty six weeks ago. And while he cursed her for his obsession, another part of him reveled in feeling so drawn to another person for the first time in his life.

  The car outside stopped, and the lights went out. He waited by the window. She opened the door and stepped out. The moonlight highlighted a knee-length dark skirt and a sweater that hugged her curves. She wore her hair down, and it framed her face perfectly. Her lips looked redder than he remembered, and he wondered if she wore lipstick. He had a sudden fixation with seeing that same red around his cock, leaving a trace after she blew him to remind him she’d been there at all.

  She stepped up on the porch and knocked. He waited a moment, then opened the door and kept his face expressionless.

  She didn’t even try to hide her annoyance. “I’m here.”

  “I see that.”

  She tightened her hand on the strap of her purse. “Well?”

  He stepped back, and she entered, swaying those hips with extra aggression.

  He smiled to himself, not willing to let her see his grin. If the woman had any idea how much he wanted her, she’d hold it over his head. And Dane had no intention of letting Kitty dominate anything but his thoughts.

  He followed her into the house. “You want my help.”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “Explain.”

  She didn’t falter. “Several of us at the gym work a second job as private investigators. It’s all discreet.” So keep your big mouth shut about it went unvoiced, though Dane could almost hear her angry words as if spoken aloud.

  Dane nodded. “And?”

  “And last year our client was robbed. He lost an important piece of art, one that’s recently surfaced.” She paused. “The Little Death.”

  He blinked. Ian hadn’t told him exactly what he needed help with, only that he needed Dane’s participation to recover the item. “No shit?” Of course he’d heard about it. The piece had been crafted with such amazing detail it was almost lifelike. And the material used to craft it still caused a stir to this day, over two hundred years after the work had first been discovered. Dane had always been drawn to the odd vitality of the piece. It seemed as if more than imagination and talent gave it life, like actual power resided in the sculpture’s stone.

  “Would I lie?” she drawled. “Anyway, the person who has it won’t part with it, and she won’t talk to us either. She hates our client. So I need a way to see her. And that’s through you.”

  “Oh?”

  “She’s got a thing for artists.”

  He heard a question in that tone. “And?”

  “And,” she said through gritted teeth, “she’s been dying to meet the great Dane Hanson. But apparently you’re not only elitist in real life but in the art world as well. You don’t do interviews, appearances, or requests. You sculpt and sell your work through a certain gallery, who then distributes it around the world.”

  He shrugged. “My prerogative. If they don’t like it, they can shove it up their collective asses.”

  She grimaced.

  “Oh, my bad. The language bothering you, sweetness?” He loved the fact that when she stepped closer, she seemed even smaller next to him. Kitty had to be close to six feet, tall for a woman. And she was built like a brick house. No petite female, but a woman with muscle and curves. Healthy, and so fucking sexy. Man, he wanted to bend her over the couch and fuck her until she couldn’t walk.

  “Dane, we need your help.”

  “To do what, exactly?”

  “To get yourself invited to this woman’s house and bring Ian with you. He’ll talk to her and get her to see reason.”

  “No.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Because if the woman has The Little Death, she won’t sell. Period. The only time that statue moves is when its owner dies or it’s stolen. That’s part of the thing’s mystique. I’m thinking she won’t sell, so Ian will have to kill her or steal it from her. Either way, I don’t want to be a party to anything illegal.” Not like he actually gave a crap about stealing it, considering half the shit he’d done on behalf of Uncle Sam. But he wanted Kitty to persuade him. With her tongue.

  He could almost see the steam rushing from her ears. “We just want to talk to her. All you have to do is get us in.”

  “Us?”

  “The team, who in this case will be Ian.”

  “No.”

  Kitty scrubbed her eyes in clear frustration. “You said you’d help.”

  “No, I told Ian I’d talk to you.” He let that sink in.

  “Me?” She glanced into his face and took a step back, as if suddenly aware of how close they stood. “Okay, fine. Will you take me to see her?”

  “Maybe.” He crossed his arms over his chest, enjoying this immensely.

  “Damn it. Okay. I’ll bite.”

  One could only hope.

>   “What do I need to do to convince you to take me with you?”

  “Three things. One, you tell me the God’s honest truth from here on out. About you, this statue, your special little team. And don’t bullshit me, because I’ll know.”

  She paused a moment, then nodded.

  “Two, I’m in on this from beginning to end. You’ve already done your homework on me; don’t deny it. You know I’ve worked special ops as well as black ops. I’m fully recovered from the injury that pushed me from the service, and I know exactly how to run this type of mission. Covert and minimal damage.”

  “Fine. What else?”

  She didn’t have a problem with his demands so far. But he had a feeling she’d blink at this one.

  “Lastly, I want you.”

  She just stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Whatever I want. Everything I want.” He let her see how much he wanted her, taking care not to bank the heat he felt. “You become mine from now until this little job of yours is over. You want me to get the thing for you? No problem. But you do what I say, when I say, until then.”

  She gaped. “Are you nuts?”

  “Honey, you can’t be forgetting our little foray in the bathroom already, can you? I’m crushed.”

  She flushed. “That was an aberration.”

  “Yeah, well, I want another one. Actually, as many as I can fit into this op. Come on, now. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

  She bit her lip, and he wanted to kiss the sting away.

  “Well, Kitty? What’s the big deal? I’ve already seen you come, and you’ve seen me.”

  “The big deal?” Her voice sounded higher than normal. Good. He was getting to her. “It’s sex, Dane. You and me. Together.”

  “Yeah, so? You want it. Hell, your nipples are hard right now just thinking about it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a Neanderthal.”