by Ashley Ladd
No way did Cliff want to let on what had just happened. He didn’t want anyone to know where and how he’d found Ali or his reaction to her after all this time. Nor did he want anyone to think less of her.
“Rough night. I’m glad to see the sun.”
Ray elbowed himself up on his pillows and got a far away look in his eyes. “I miss those rough nights. Guess I was a born cop.”
Cliff shook his head. “The best.”
“You take after me and your pa. I feel safe in your hands. I’m glad you’re back.”
Cliff started to get choked up, feeling guilty again for his absence so he turned away. “Yeah. Me too.”
After he could speak again, he turned around and asked, “How are you feeling? All better?”
“I’ll be up and doing a ten-mile marathon tomorrow. Bessie here says so, don’t you, Bessie.” Ray winked at his middle-aged nurse who looked the epitome of professionalism in her starched uniform.
Bessie winked. “You bet.”
“See?” But Ray went into a coughing spasm and Bessie rushed to his side. She held his hand while Cliff claimed the other.
Ray’s coughing ended and he breathed easier. “Give me a nip of brandy and the TV remote and I’ll be fine until Daisy gets here. You go on to sleep.” Daisy was Ray’s housekeeper who was usually late because she had to drop several children off at school.
“I’ll stay here with you.” Cliff was reluctant to leave him alone and hovered over his bed.
Ray held out the remote and turned on one of his recorded cop shows. Then he sank into his pillow with a blissful smile when the policemen drew a gun on the suspect. “You’ll be in the next room. I’ll yell if I need you. Scoot.”
A huge yawn attacked Cliff, so he nodded. Daisy and Bessie had keys. “Make sure you do, too.”
Before Cliff left the room Ray was lost in his TV show.
Cliff stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. He was glad it wasn’t the same one he’d shared with Ali, then cursed himself for thinking of her. Sleep was fitful, as dreams of Ali plagued him.
The Ali of his dreams turned on the CD player and sexy tropical music filled the bedroom. She swayed sensually to the beat and slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her lips. Smoky and seductive her eyes beckoned him to ravage her, yet she continued to gyrate across the room, out of reach.
Her short gown was so diaphanous the aureoles of her nipples peeked through. The swell of her breasts threatened to spill out of the low-cut bodice and they pushed together to form a cleavage deep enough for a man to drown in.
A crooked smile teased her lips as she looked down at her breasts and ran her fingertips across her mounds. She dipped a finger into the material and rubbed her nipple. Then she dipped in two and rolled it between her fingers.
Flames licked his cock and it tented his shorts. He yearned to feel her, to go deep inside her and make her his. He insinuated his hand between his shorts and stomach and pumped his cock. His hips pounded the bed until it banged the wall. “I’m ready for you, babe. Climb on board.”
But she shook her head and tossed him a mischievous grin. “But your show’s not over.”
It was going to be over much too soon if she didn’t have mercy. He backed off his cock before he came and it was game over. “You’re a hard woman.”
Her smile broadened and she shot a pointed look at his cock. “You’re a hard man. Just the way I like you.”
Growls rose in his throat. “Then get over here before I have to throw you across my shoulder and carry you over here.”
“Promises, promises. I’ll make it worth your while.” She arched her back so that he could see her panties. They were crotchless and the flimsy material disappeared between the crevices of her legs. Her pussy lips were pink and glistening with moisture.
His heart raced. He was in danger of having a heart attack if he couldn’t fuck her in the next minute. When she delved her finger into her pussy and then pulled it out and sucked it, he almost came.
He hadn’t realised how nimble she was but her gymnastics tonight would be put to good use. He kicked off his underwear, slid off the bed and prowled across the room. He closed his eyes and let her musky scent wash over him. Then he fulfilled his promise and scooped her into his arms.
Instead of throwing her over his shoulder, however, he jacked her up against the door and supported her with his lower body. “Wrap your legs around me.”
As if she’d read his mind or had done this a hundred times, she was already in the process of doing just that. She also wound her arms around his neck as she parted her lips wide for his kiss. He plundered her pussy and slammed her against the door. It banged loudly but soon Ali’s screams drowned out all other sound.
He ravished her mouth then tried to suckle her nipple but couldn’t reach it so he dropped a trail of wet kisses across her neck to her shoulder. His blood boiled and fire consumed him.
He kissed her again and swallowed her screams. They rocked together as waves of euphoria and rapture washed over him.
* * * *
Giant yawns attacked Ali in class the next day. She kept drifting off to sleep.
“Miss James? Could you snore a little quieter? The rest of your classmates want to learn,” her anatomy professor said.
Ali jerked awake with a hiccough. Heat crawled up her neck to her cheeks and she gulped. She wished the floor would swallow her. She sank down in her chair, trying to hide. “Sorry,” she mumbled, veiling her eyes from the angry man.
Her friend Sarah squeezed her hand. “I hit the books late last night, too.”
Ali gave her a grateful smile. She wished she’d been able to. Sometimes she thought about telling her secret to Sarah, but always held back. She liked Sarah better than any of her other classmates but she wasn’t sure how she’d react. Sarah came from a rich family who paid her full tuition, as well as her room and board. She drove a sports car and vacationed in the Riviera.
Ali didn’t begrudge her friend her fortune and typically just put it out of her mind. She wished she could put her ex into a closed compartment as easily. She whispered an aside, “Cliff’s back.”
Sarah twisted around in her chair and scraped it back. She asked much too loudly, “Since when?”
“Miss Everett and Miss James, this is the last time I’m going to tell you to stop interrupting my class before I ask you to leave.”
Sarah rolled her eyes but turned around and primly folded her hands on the table.
Ali sat up straight and couldn’t wait to get her hands on a steaming cup of black coffee. These late nights were killing her and last night had been the worst. Cliff had kept her at the police station until the wee hours. Then Amy banged around, waking her up. She’d had trouble getting back to sleep for the couple of hours before class.
After class Sarah gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Tell me all about you and Cliff. Are you two back together?”
Ali choked and spluttered. Her blood had frozen in her veins at the look on his face when he’d looked at her topless in front of all those other men. He’d scared her more than the men who’d tried to manhandle her. He’d looked as if he’d wanted to kill her. Or, at least turn her over his knee and spank her. The words came out so dry and cold it left her lips freezer-burned, “Hardly. He’s back, in spite of me.”
“What brought him back, if not you?”
Ali shrugged. “Beats me. He wasn’t exactly in a talkative mood when I saw him.” Except to interrogate and berate her, that is.
“Maybe he’s decided he can’t live without you and will wait for you until you finish your residency.”
Ali tossed back her head and guffawed, “Dream on.”
“You never know. Anything can happen on Valentine’s Day.” Sarah pointed to a fat cupid on the wall that seemed to be pointing its arrow at them.
Ali stuck out her tongue at it and swerved out of its line of fire. “I hate Valentine’s Day. Only people who already have lovers like it. It only remi
nds the rest of us poor slobs what sorry losers we are.”
“Since you hate it so much and you obviously don’t have a tryst planned, can you switch shifts with me the weekend of Valentine’s Day? Terry wants to take me to the Bahamas for a romantic getaway. I think he’s going to propose.”
Ali wrinkled her nose. She worked every weekend at the club. Fridays and Saturdays were the best money-making nights. Holidays were the absolute best. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a weekend or holiday off. A long sigh escaped her and she said, “Sorry. I’m on schedule to work.”
“You work too hard. I’m amazed you don’t keel over.”
“Easy for you to say. I don’t have a choice.” Ali told herself for the umpteenth time—all this would pay off when she had a career with a good income. She would never have to worry again how to pay the mortgage or someone’s college tuition. Just a couple years…
Sarah hugged her. “I know it’s hard for you, sweetie. How’s Amy doing?”
Ali swallowed a sigh. Amy, the boy-crazy cheerleader? Amy, who was mad at the world that her parents were dead and she had to live with an older sister who was never around? She shrugged and said, “Amy hates me and thinks I’m Momzilla. On the bright side, she and her cheerleaders are building a huge Valentine’s Day float in my driveway. Every time I go out in my yard, a big, fat, stupid cupid grins at me. I swear she picked that little monster just to piss me off. Can I scream yet?”
Chapter Three
Cliff couldn’t get Ali out of his mind. He kept seeing her at the club, kept worrying something terrible would happen to her. It was just a matter of time, at a place like that.
He’d hoped he’d solved his case when he booked the scum that mistreated Ali. But none of their fingerprints matched the stalker he was investigating. He bristled that he couldn’t throw away the key on those men so they couldn’t hurt another woman. The owner of the nudie club had taken out a restraining order on them, but Cliff knew from years of experience they didn’t scare away such slime.
He stared into the distance, driving on autopilot as he travelled to check out his new lead. If something happened to Ali, he’d never forgive himself.
“Damn! You’re supposed to be over Ali.” The words echoed through his car, mocking him.
A pickup truck swerved in front of him and cut him off. He sped up on its tail and called in its licence. When no priors came up, he frowned but backed off. He was anxious to check out his lead, but he had a bad feeling about Ali, so he detoured to the club.
He slinked into the back of the room. Even with all the smoke, Cliff was glad he wore black so he blended into the wall. This time he ordered seltzer water, fighting off the advances of a redheaded waitress.
After a half hour without spotting Ali he was beginning to think she wasn’t on duty tonight. He was about to call it quits when he spied her across the room, having a heated discussion with the proprietor.
The guy’s face purpled as he yelled and shook his pudgy fists. His hands flew in wide, exaggerated gestures.
When Ali flinched, Cliff’s blood boiled. His heart raced and he swore under his breath. If the moron ever struck Ali, he would answer to him. Nobody struck a woman, especially not Ali.
Cliff moved closer. He wound his way through the crowd and leant against the wall behind a partition to hide within earshot.
Frankie shook his finger at Ali. “Next time you’re late, don’t bother to come back. Ever.”
Ali squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin. “I had a flat tire. I had to get it changed.”
“And last week you had radiator trouble. And the week before that your engine blew. Get a new car. Or better yet, quit school and get some sleep. Those bags under your eyes tell the whole story. You overslept again.” Accusation rang loud and clear in Frankie’s voice.
Cliff wouldn’t doubt the truth of Frankie’s assumption. When they’d been together, she poured her heart and soul into school and often fell asleep on him.
“I’m not quitting school.”
“You can’t serve two masters. The time’s coming you’ll have to pick one.” Frankie rubbed his hand over his hair, mussing it. “I mean it. This is your last chance. I have a line of women begging me to work here. This is the easiest money you’ll ever make.”
Cliff couldn’t listen to another word. He cleared his throat and stepped into the light. “Pick the other. You’re serving the devil here.”
Ali gasped and looked as if she was going to ignore him. Then she squared her shoulders. Her eyes flashed fire, only this time she threw the flames at him instead of Frankie. “Butt out, Cliff. I can fight my own battles.”
The costume she wore tonight was a provocative one that showed more of her breasts than it covered and it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. He wondered how many other men hadn’t, how many had touched her, caressed her. The thought killed him.
She narrowed her eyes and thrust out her breasts. She pointed to her eyes. “Up here, not down there.”
He seethed. How could she parade around in that getup, jut her breasts in a guy’s face and expect him to look into her eyes? “If that’s what you want, then cover yourself.”
“Pig.” She flung back her head, snorted and sashayed away.
Over her shoulder she tossed, “Frankie, I’ll talk to you later. I have tables to wait.”
She wasn’t going to get away from him this easily so he followed. Cliff was amazed how much such a slim ass could wiggle. Then again, it didn’t have much support in the flimsy G-string. Was she begging to be fucked, too? His cock swelled and crowded his pants. He had the mother of all hard-ons and cursed himself. He was pretty sure the one causing his discomfort wanted him to jump in a canal. His days of running, however, were over. He was back for good and she’d better get used to it.
He followed a few steps behind and didn’t take his gaze off her. He wondered how long it would take to get a reaction. To his surprise, it took longer than expected. She ignored him as if he was invisible.
Unable to take it any longer, he ambled up to her as she was taking drink orders from a table of three men who never once looked at her face. He slid his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, “This place is no good. You’re better than this.”
She ripped herself away. “Hands off, if you don’t want Timmy to kick you out of here forever.”
Okay, if it were her rules, he’d play. Before she could react he bent his head and kissed her nipple through her costume. When she froze and didn’t move, he suckled it. His cock got so hot it burned through his pants.
She quivered, swore and pushed him away. “God! You never listen.”
He was pleased to see her quaking. She wasn’t as immune to him as she liked to pretend. He cocked a lopsided grin. “You said no hands, darlin’.”
Her patrons snickered and guffawed.
She treated them all to a round of withering looks. “You know what I meant.”
He was enjoying the verbal banter almost as much as watching her nipples pucker into tight little points that strained against the flimsy top. He’d forgotten how easy she was to goad or how much he enjoyed seeing her get hot and bothered. “As I recall, you used to say I never understood you. Why would you think I’d start now after being gone so long?”
A strangled cry tore from her lips and she threw up her hands. “You’re impossible! I couldn’t talk to you then. I can’t talk to you now. Why are you here? Don’t you have any criminals to chase?”
Why was he here? He wasn’t so sure himself any more.
He pulled up a chair from an empty table and hunkered down. From there he had an even better view of her and he gulped. “It’s a free world, isn’t it? And last time I checked, this is a public place. I’d like to order a drink.”
She turned and held out her order pad with a saccharine sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll take your drink order—and nothing else. What’ll you have?”
“Orange juice.
On the rocks.”
“You’re a strange man.” Ali flounced away and he wasn’t pleased to note his weren’t the only set of eyes following her around the room.
* * * *
“Ali, you got a personal call. What’d I tell you about this shit?” Frankie thrust the phone into her hands.
Ali’s heart sank. Her sister was the only one that ever called here and she should be fast asleep. She covered the receiver with her hand and whispered, “What is it? I’m at work.”
Instead of Amy’s voice, an unfamiliar masculine one met her ears and she jerked upright.
“Is this Alyssa James? Guardian of Amy Nance?”
Ali’s knees went weak and she couldn’t exhale. “Yes. I’m Alyssa James. Is my sister okay?”
“This is Sergeant Cates of the Fort Lauderdale Police Department. We got a call about a wild party at your residence earlier tonight. We found your sister and several other minors engaged in underage drinking and sexual activity.”
Ali gulped. Her head split and she rubbed her temple. She turned away from the rest of the room and tried to keep her voice low. “You actually caught Amy in bed with a boy … having sex?”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s in our custody now. We need you to come to the station on Broward Boulevard.”
Ali didn’t have to look at her watch to know her shift wasn’t even halfway over. If she left now, Frankie might make good on his promise to terminate her. But she couldn’t say no to the police or ignore her duties as a guardian. Amy was so going to die.
But as furious as she was at her sister, she was angrier at herself. For Amy’s sake, she should have been home to supervise. This time, the girl was causing her own trouble—next time it could be an intruder. She hated to admit that Cliff might be right—that she should walk away from this job.
Her head throbbed like hell. If she quit, how would she make the mortgage and pay for her school? How would she pay for Amy’s college in a couple of years? Her dreams of finding a cure for the cancer that killed her mother would go up in smoke.