Body Talk: An Ex-Navy SEAL Billionaire Romance

by Ashlee Price

  I drove around town for a while. There were several businesses around the post office that remained open until 9 o’clock. I wanted those closed and those parking lots emptied before I went to harvest my box. When I finally pulled into the parking lot, I found it to be deserted. Even the janitor was not in evidence.

  I went in, using all the stealth I’d learned, and when I left, there was a manila envelope addressed to Santa Claus in my hand. I found a park where I could pull over beneath a lamp post and read. Although it was written in obscure language that would appear innocent to someone else, I understood everything he was saying.

  A post-mortem examination on Tim had uncovered traces of a rare explosive. It was highly unstable, difficult to plant, and generally detonated with some sort of flame—the kind that could be produced by an underwater flare, for example. I remembered seeing a brief flash of red before the boat blew apart. If they’d been good for nothing else, my recurring nightmares had reminded me of that, subconsciously pointing me to the damning clue.

  Now that I understood how Malchevsky had killed Tim, and had at least a little evidence to back it up, I had to find him. Fortunately, I had a few more favors to call in—one of which was from an old high school buddy. He’d gotten into trouble with gambling, and when the Russians came after him to collect, he had no choice but to bail. Kenny had not been terribly bright in class, but he had developed street smarts over the years. I’d run into him at the local bowling alley the night he went on the run. He was trying to collect his last paycheck so he had money to get out of town. We’d only been casual friends, had a few classes together, but he knew I’d inherited money. When he spotted me shooting pool, all he could see was salvation. I barely recognized him; he was that desperate, and his face showed it. He pulled me out the side door by the collar and tried to strong-arm me.

  “What the fuck?” I growled and punched him in the nose. He hit the dirt and looked up at me, blood all over his face. To my surprise, he burst into tears and sat there in the dirt and old vomit and shook like a scared little girl. I let him calm down and regain his dignity before I pulled him behind a car. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “Never mind, man. I’m a goner.”

  “Says who?”

  “There’s no way out for me. I ain’t got the money to pay them back, and these guys don’t mess around.”

  “Who the fuck are you talking about, Kenny?”

  “The mob, man! The fucking Russian mob!”

  “You’re into them? You stupid ass! Don’t you know better than to mess with them?”

  “I know, I know, but I was desperate. I took what they lent me to Arlington Park and put it on a sure thing. I was going to win enough to pay them back and start over. But something happened; the fix was in but the jockey got hurt in an earlier race and the entry got scratched. I had no choice but to throw it on another horse to win, and it didn’t. They’re out for me, man.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at him—hard. His life was literally in my hands. “How much?”

  “Twenty thousand.”

  “Twenty-fucking-thousand dollars? What the hell, Kenny? Were you planning to win all that on one horse?”

  He was silent, but he sniffed every so often. His head was constantly twisting and his eyes darted at every noise. He didn’t know how or when they’d hit him, but he knew they were coming for him.

  I dragged him to my car and shoved him into the back seat. I called my banker, a personal friend who I knew kept cash at home. He got the money together for me and met us in the high school parking lot nearby. He didn’t ask questions and I didn’t offer explanations.

  I made Kenny tell me where to find the Russians and stood next to him as he handed over their money. I didn’t trust him not to take the cash and make a run for it. I wanted the deal done and then to wash my hands of him. Kenny practically fell to his knees thanking me that night. I told him I’d keep it to myself, but he owed me. That was how money worked. Some things you couldn’t buy, but a favor paid the fare.

  Kenny kept in touch with me from time to time, and now I found a payphone in a deserted gas station and called him. He met me at the park and I gave him the particulars. Kenny had ended up working for the same guys who’d been after him. If anyone could get to Malchevsky, it was them. My hands would remain clean — at least for now.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Whitney

  Dagger’s business spies were bringing him feedback. After just two sessions with the men, the word was that we’d become the hottest new spot in town. Kat was tracking the applications for membership, and Dagger told me he was scouting locations for more studios. I asked him who would run them, but he’d said little, and it really was none of my business. I had enough to deal with planning the tea party and classes for the women.

  Dagger sent Kat home early one night when no classes were scheduled. He locked everything up and shut off the lights. He led me back to the women’s workout room and had me remove all my clothing.

  He made love to me.

  Dagger drew me down to sit on a mat and had me spread my legs, reaching with opposing hands to touch my toes. He showed me how it opened certain areas of my body and allowed them to breathe. As I repeated the exercise, he laid his head between my thighs and kissed the soft inner skin. The more I stretched, the more flexible I became and the wider I could open my legs. Each increment was rewarded with more kisses, which encouraged me to keep going. Wider and wider I got, until I was almost in a horizontal split. His mouth approached and I could feel the anticipation in my pussy.

  “That’s it,” he encouraged me in the deep voice that made me melt, his finger creeping closer and closer to my woman’s lips. His mouth followed, and when I could go no further, he lifted me enough to slide his head beneath me. While he kissed the bare, spread crack of my ass, he inserted his strong middle finger into my vagina and began sliding it in and out, pausing only to rub my clit. I couldn’t believe I was holding the position, but the incentive was there. I rolled slightly forward and back over his finger, urging him to massage me harder. I wanted to know what it felt like to orgasm while his tongue and fingers explored my orifices.

  He pulled out and swung my leg around, pulling me up by the waist until I was in the position known as the downward-facing dog. In this, my hands were extended before me, my face between my arms, my feet flat and extended behind me, and my ass forming the crux of an inverted V in the air. He came up behind me, pushed his finger into me several times to coat me with my own juices, and then slid his hard cock into me from the rear. “Hold steady now,” he said gruffly, and although my knees had become rubber bands, I managed to stay upright. Dagger’s powerful maleness penetrated me over and over, and I wanted so badly to lean back into him. He had taught me, however, that self-discipline was paramount. It permitted the body to build the anticipation to an unbelievable level before, finally, there was nothing but the orgasm itself. You became the orgasm. Neophyte that I was, I dissolved into emotional tears as the wave of sensations broke over my body. He knelt next to me, half smiling and nodding. He knew what I was feeling and that he was the only one who had such power over me. I rolled into a fetal position, shuddering with wave after wave of aftermath. He lay beside me, spooning me with his arms wrapped around me. I could feel his cock pressing into my ass, and I wanted to be impaled upon him.

  “Shhh…” he hushed me. “It’s okay. Wonderful, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

  I nodded, still unable to speak. I wanted to lie there forever with my eyes closed and the sensation of him against me.

  Eventually, Dagger picked me up and carried me to my bed. He climbed in beside me and held me throughout the night. I had a newfound respect and an even deeper feeling for him. He had shown me the world he wanted me to enter—finally. I felt christened and alive like never before. I fell asleep with my hip next to his, but my hand lay over his penis, cupping it and softly touching his balls. He awakened me shortly thereafter
. He had grown hard, and I put him into my mouth, sucking on him like a pacifier. He found his release and I let it run down my throat and over my chin onto my breasts. His essence tasted sweet, musky and salty at once. We could not have been any closer.

  ***

  The tea party was that day, and the flowers were beginning to arrive. I had enjoyed planning this party, and although my nerves were in a ball, I was glad the time had finally come. This part was my show.

  The hour arrived, and as Kat sat guard in the reception area, woman after woman came in. Some had chosen to dress in formal cocktail dresses, as if at a movie premiere. Others were in workout clothes, and a few came in looking like southern belles in tribute to the tea party theme. I’d hired a couple of young women as assistants to help take care of everyone, and after I’d gone over the purpose of the studio and its philosophy, a few spoke up to say their husbands had already insisted they attend. It was confirmation that Dagger’s studio was slotted for top honors. I was so happy I could be a part of that. Some were asking excited questions, but in general, the conversation was animated, teasing and sultry. The atmosphere helped with this, and as they sipped tea and ate small sandwiches, I launched the fashion and jewelry show. Manicurists and stylists with rolling tray beauty stations circulated among the tables. The chatter was nonstop, and I stood back and realized the magnitude of what I was witnessing. Dagger had hit a goldmine!

  I changed into my pale pink leotard and demonstrated some of the moves the ladies could anticipate in the classes. There was giggling and there were stares. Most of them were older, and their bodies had begun to make that fact evident, but a few of those who had come in workout clothes joined me on the mat and emulated what I was doing. Dagger was nowhere to be seen, though, and I was disappointed. Despite the privacy he’d insisted upon, I wanted him to see the evidence of his great idea and hard work. I felt I had played a tiny role in his success.

  The party had ended and the women were beginning to file out. I was still in my workout tights, accepting congratulations and promises to see me again as soon as the classes began. I was exultant on Dagger’s behalf and couldn’t wait for him to return. I worked my way forward from the pool area to the reception area. Smiling, I waved as the last of the ladies made their way out the door. Kat stood and walked around from behind her counter. “You’ve got someone waiting,” she said, and I noticed a tiny light in her eyes.

  I assumed one of the women had stayed behind to ask a question, so I rounded the doorway with a smile on my face and turned to the banquette against the wall. “May I help you?” I began, but the words were barely out of my mouth when I stopped abruptly.

  There stood my sister. “Tiffany!”

  “Hello, Whitney. I see you’ve been having a good time,” she sneered, gesturing with the end of her nose at my leotard.

  “I didn’t expect you,” I said, giving Kat a sidelong glare. She seemed unaffected, almost coldly deliberate. “Kat, you can run along home now. I’ll close up.”

  “You sure? I’ll be glad to stick around in case you need help,” she offered.

  “Oh, thanks, but you’ve done enough,” I replied, waving my hand to get her on her way out the door. The last thing I needed was a witness.

  Tiffany was calm, leaning back in a cocky position that told me she was preparing for battle. Kat gathered her things and headed to the door. “You sure?” she asked again over her shoulder.

  “Quite sure. Goodnight, Kat.”

  “Goodbye, Tiffany,” Kat called. “It was nice to meet you. Hope to see you again soon.”

  Tiffany nodded slightly. It was apparent that she’d gotten what she wanted from Kat. Kat had undoubtedly also gotten what she’d been looking for. The door closed behind Tiffany and we were alone.

  “Want to come up to my apartment?” I invited.

  “Sure, why not?”

  I motioned her to follow me and headed down the hallway and up the stairs. I casually pointed to doors as we went, identifying each room as we passed.

  “A pool?” she asked, leaning against one of the doors so she could peek inside.

  “Yes. We’ve just had a ladies’ tea, and naturally we still have to clean up.” I was glad all the stylists and designers had left, taking their goods with them.

  “Next time I’ll bring my bathing suit,” Tiff commented, and I stiffened. I knew I was going to have to explain to her the nature of what we did there, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. She wouldn’t be welcomed, and it would make her crazy.

  We entered my apartment and I rushed to clear away the clothes I’d left piled on my bed. There was a telltale men’s watch on the far nightstand. Tiff eyed it and looked to me for an explanation.

  “So, how did you find me?” I asked casually to begin the inevitable conversation.

  “You think movers can’t be bribed?” came her salty reply.

  “I’m not sure why you’re here?”

  “I can’t come to see my own sister and find out what she’s up to? Mom and Dad are concerned that they haven’t heard from you in a while. I told them I’d check things out and get back to them. Just exactly what should I tell them you’re up to, Whit?”

  “It’s a yoga studio for wealthy clients, membership only.”

  “Really? And that’s it?”

  “Of course. What else could there be?”

  “This is some kind of fancy yoga studio.”

  Her voice was catty and rising in volume. She was in her big sister who’s onto the little sister’s secret mode, and I knew this would not go well. Did I dare just tell her the truth? I knew there was no way that would fly. Dad would be here in four hours and I’d be dragged from the building by the hair.

  “Fess up, Whitney,” she said, grinding the words out like acid flowing between her teeth. “There’s more here than meets the eye, and I want, no, I insist you tell me what is going on. You’re obviously out of control, have made some bad choices, and you’re being terribly defensive. What’s going on?”

  “First of all, Tiffany, I don’t like you meddling in my business. Secondly, don’t you think that’s a little like the pot calling the kettle black? Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to keep Mom and Dad calm when you were out screwing your life up? I had to carry it, Tiff, and it wasn’t any fun.”

  “Oh, is that so? So, you’re admitting that now you’re making up for lost time? You’re admitting that there’s something under the covers about this whole situation?”

  Her voice was loud and sassy. This was the bad side of my sister, the side that sat in bars and smoked cigarettes while she flirted with everything in pants. This was the girl who’d had an abortion in the eleventh grade after she’d stayed out all night with the football team. How dare she accuse me of something spicy? I was an adult, a college graduate, and I was earning my own living. I owed her nothing. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to agree. She was out for blood, and she could be a real bitch when she wanted.

  “Drop it, Tiff. This not your business, and I’m doing nothing wrong. I’m on my own now, and I don’t need you to babysit me. If you want to be a do-gooder, why don’t you go out and volunteer at a mission or become a big sister to someone who needs one? Why don’t you walk down the street to the church and ask God to forgive you for your sins?”

  Tiffany’s face grew dark and her mouth twisted into an ugly line. “You bitch! You fucking Miss Goody Two Shoes bitch! I can see what you’re doing here! You’re the madam of a whorehouse, aren’t you? Those women? They were interviewees for prostitutes. You can’t fake me out. I know what I’m seeing!”

  “You don’t have a clue what you’re looking at, and again, it’s not your business. They don’t even let your kind into this studio. It’s so far over your head that you have no idea what it is and you’re jealous. Just plain mean and jealous. Now it’s time for you to leave. I’m tired and I want to go to bed. I’ve had all I’m going to take from you now, and you don’t need to worry that I’ll come crawling back and sleep
on that semen-stained thing you call a couch. Damn, Tiffany—you couldn’t even wait to get them as far as your bed? You just spread your legs right on top of the pizza boxes. Were you afraid you’d lose them, or what?”

  I was shouting and crying simultaneously. I was feeling awkward and embarrassed, and it made me mad that anything as wonderful as what Dagger had created could make me feel that way. I was ashamed of Tiffany, and I hated telling her all the things I knew about her, but she was throwing lies and insinuations into my face and I had to stand up to her one way or another.

  She was about to burst with anger. In a snarl, she said, “Don’t pretend with me, Whitney. We both know you were just waiting for an opportunity to turn rogue. You let Dad and Mom pay for your education first, though, didn’t you? You stuck it out long enough for that, and now you’re ready to just fly off into the world and be all the bad things they blamed me for. You were always in the background, whispering behind your hand. Don’t deny it, I saw you do it. Well, don’t play Miss Innocent with me. Look at that get-up you’re wearing. That’s hardly sweats and gym shoes. And don’t pretend that you’re still Miss Virgin. Whose watch is that on the nightstand? Have you taken to wearing men’s jewelry?” She was shouting by the time she finished her tirade.

  “It’s my watch.” Amid the uproar, Dagger had quietly come upstairs to investigate the noise and walked in on our cat fight. “Thank you for finding it and hanging on to it. It has a lot of sentimental value for me, and I was pretty pissed when it went missing. Kat told me you were keeping it for me.” His voice was quiet, and I wondered if I was the only one in the room who understood that it was, at the same time, deadly. He looked straight at Tiff. “I assume you’re Whitney’s sister? Tiffany, is that right?”

  Tiffany’s mouth was hanging open. Dagger was dressed in a white sport shirt, open at the collar. His long legs were tightly encased in designer jeans. His dark eyes glittered with danger, and it made him irrationally sexy to look at. Tiffany was already blown away. She could say nothing, but she nodded.