Accomplice

by Kristi Lea

  She was light—too light—but hot against his sex as he carried her to the bed and laid her down, reluctantly unwrapping her legs from around him. He pushed up her shirt, baring her belly to his kiss. While his tongue explored her navel, he pushed his hands upwards until his thumbs each found a nipple, hard and straining in the confines of her bra the way his cock strained in the confines of his jeans.

  He took pity on her nipples. She arched upwards as he drew her shirt off over her head, and then sucked in a breath as he unfastened the bra and drew it slowly off of her shoulders.

  Her skin was the beautiful ivory of a natural redhead, with a sprinkle of pale freckles around her chest and neck. Her breasts were round and full, the rose-colored nipples taut and puckered. “You are so beautiful.”

  Jess closed her eyes at his words and lifted her arms up and above her head, offering him full access.

  He caressed the side of one breast, cupping it lightly. Her breath quavered. He bent and took a nipple full in his mouth. She tasted like ice cream as he sucked and rolled the nipple in his tongue. Jess moaned and gasped. The sounds of her pleasure rebounded a hundred times over and a hard wave of need shot straight to his groin.

  Noah took her other breast and gave it a gentle squeeze, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple. She undulated her hips under his, rubbing herself against his thigh while he tasted the other breast.

  When she opened her eyes, her pupils were dark with lust and her cheeks flushed with pleasure and desperation. He smiled and opened his mouth for another taste of her breasts. She grabbed him by the shoulders and stopped him, instead tugging at his shirt until he helped shrug out of it.

  Jess sat up and drew him down to the bed. The old springs creaked beneath their combined weight as she positioned him beside her instead of on top. And then she returned the favor, licking at his navel and kissing a fiery trail to his nipples. Her hands were all over him, playing with the muscles of his chest, his arms, lightly tracing around the bandage on his shoulder.

  And then her hands were at his waist. She slipped a finger under his waistband, searing the head of his penis and he groaned. She smiled, blue eyes dark and glittering.

  No photograph, no video, no magazine cover could ever capture how wild and wanton, feminine and sexy she looked at that moment. She was hot with desire for him, her expression unguarded, unschooled, unpracticed. He found her lips and kissed her as she unzipped his jeans and nearly came when she took his cock in her hands.

  He focused on breathing, on not blowing his wad while she cupped and caressed, squeezed and rubbed him from the tip all the way to his balls. Gritting his teeth, he sat forward, rolling her back to her back so he could unfasten her jeans to reveal the black cotton panties she wore underneath.

  He could smell the salty sweat of her arousal as he drew the pants down her legs and he kissed her bare knees, her thighs, and nudged her legs apart.

  Noah kissed the lower edge of those panties. He heard the sharp intake of her breath as he slipped his fingers up and under them to the sensitive flesh of her lower belly, and then pulled them down and out of the way.

  Jessica lay on her back, her legs spread open, offering up the dark red thatch of hair and the swollen folds of her sex to his view.

  Gently, he touched her wet center as he watched her eyes darken and close. His fingers dipped into the dampness and her head lolled back in pleasure. He explored her, watching her face as he brushed her clit, as he gingerly parted her folds. He loved the gasps she made, the quick little breaths as he placed one finger inside her and found the knot of nerves.

  Her pleasure was his as he thrust his fingers in and out, swirling her clit, surrounded by her wet flesh as she whimpered and moaned, arching her back against his hand. When the first few ripples of a climax started, he drew back and took a steadying breath.

  “Please don’t stop.” Her words were like oil on the fire.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  She licked her lips and watched him as though he were a dessert she was eager to taste. She took him with her hands and guided his cock to her sex and then held his hips and drew him down, slowly, sweetly inside her.

  Noah blinked and tried to focus on making this last. Jess was gasping and writhing beneath him and it was all he could do to not just drive into her like a frenzied teenager and be done. He moved. She moaned. In. Out. Each thrust sent shots of fire and heat and need through him.

  They moved together, hard. Deep. Grinding and gasping. Jess’s breasts seared Noah’s chest and her teeth nipped at his neck. Her fingers splayed against his back, urging him faster and deeper. Always more, until her cries of need and his reached a fever point. She protested as he pulled back just a bit, but he reached a hand between them and found her clit, rubbing the swollen nub as he thrust his cock in and out of her wet sex.

  She came with a sweet cry and he held on, riding through her waves until he couldn’t take any more.

  Chapter 16

  Wrapped in Noah’s arms with the sheets twisted around her legs, Jess stared at the floral-and-foil papered wall and listened to him breathe, slow and deep. She ached all over, from too much sitting and too much stress and far too little of the wonderful release she’d had tonight. And from far too little peace. Too little of the calm rest that Noah had found after their pulses cooled.

  He called her beautiful.

  Jess shifted slightly, not wanting to wake him from his sleep. Not wanting to lose the comfort of his embrace, the heat of his chest. But this wouldn’t last and she couldn’t sleep.

  Beautiful. What a horrible word. So meaningless. So overused. So very, very untrue. If she were beautiful, really beautiful, then she wouldn’t feel like such a fake. A beautiful woman wouldn’t use a man like Noah for his protection, for his touch. She wouldn’t sleep with a man she intended to leave. She wouldn’t keep secrets from him. Secrets that could get them both killed.

  With a sigh, she nudged Noah’s arm from around her shoulders and rolled toward the edge of the bed. There was no way she was sleeping tonight.

  A slice of garish yellow light cut past the blackout drapes and lit the wall beside the TV. Her purse lay there on top of the low dresser, in a heap next to her backpack and Noah’s duffel bag. She padded over to it and withdrew the envelope from the safe deposit box.

  In the too-bright blue-white of the fluorescent fixture of the bathroom, she sat on the closed toilet and unfolded the pages that Charles had written.

  Jessie—

  If you are reading these pages, then I am gone, and I am truly sorry. I am sorry that I was not a young man when we met and could not be the lifelong companion that you deserve. But though this old man’s body will not allow me to be with you forever, know that my heart is yours until the end of time. I hope that you will not grieve for me too long. Say a champagne toast in my honor, and then go on about your young life. Find love again, and have the family that I could not give you.

  I know that things may not be easy for you after I am gone. I hope that Brandon does not cause you too much trouble, though I fear that he will. There is money in this safe deposit box, along with other paperwork which you may find useful. There is more, in that bank near the coffee shop we both loved so much on our honeymoon. Do you remember it? Those were the happiest days of my life. You will find the key to that box here in this envelope. I hope that there is enough there to get you through any rainy days.

  Should certain business dealings of mine fall apart, then you may want something more than money. There is information stored in your diamonds. Valuable information. But the key to reading it is stored with your rhinestones. Use what you find there as you see fit.

  I love you, for all the days of my life.

  --Charlie

  ***

  “We found the redhead from the Kingsbury plane down in the Caymans. She even showed us her wig.”

  Noah shot a look at the closed bathroom door. The sound of the shower would drown out most of his conversatio
n with Cole. He woke earlier to find her asleep in the armchair across the room. By the time he finished changing the bandage on his shoulder—the bruising around the wound had turned an ugly shade of greenish-purple—she was stirring.

  Jess had not said a word to him, just given him a half-smile that held some mixed-up emotion that he couldn’t quite decipher. She slipped past his soft “Good Morning,” with clothes in hand and locked the door behind her.

  Noah peeked out the room curtains at the early morning haze. “And?”

  “I could kick myself for being so dense. Remember Lindsay Weber? She was one of the staff members we interviewed the day of the robbery. She was there the night of the rabbit incident.”

  “The personal assistant?” Noah pictured the compact woman with the no-nonsense haircut and the piercing eyes. She looked nothing like Jessica. Though the two women were about the same height. With a wig and sunglasses…

  Cole laughed. “She's an ex-marine, head of Kingsbury security, and frequent body double. Cutlass was throwing things at the office yesterday, and for once I agree with him. No one ever asked her for a job title. How the hell did we overlook that?”

  “Dunno. Did she cooperate?”

  “That’s the best part. Answered every question. No resistance. No backtalk. The two agents down there were able to interview the entire air crew. Everyone told the same story. Mrs. Kingsbury wanted to get away from the media, so they dressed up Ms. Weber, hopped in the private jet, and were told to take a week’s paid vacation.”

  Noah shook his head. In the bathroom, the water shut off. “Smart plan. It fooled us for a couple of days too. Did Lindsay Weber tell you where to find Jessica Kingsbury?”

  There was a momentary silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Noah had called Cole at home, using one of the pre-paid cell phones. Different one than last time and totally disposable. Still, it was a dangerous game he was playing.

  “That is the only question she didn't answer. She claims that Mrs. Kingsbury didn't share her travel plans. I think she's telling the truth. The woman seemed worried, kept pumping me for information, even. Weber says she needs to talk to Jessica soon.”

  The water shut off in the bathroom. Noah glanced at the door.

  Cole continued, “When are you coming back from your trip? Cutlass is anxious to talk to you.”

  “I'm not sure. I've been enjoying the scenery, you know? Peace, quiet. Lots of nature. Unplugging and relaxing. I hear it’s good for you.”

  Cole made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a snort.

  “Did you ever follow up on that idea of mine? From the last time we talked”

  “About that. Have you ever looked closely at the wedding photo Cutlass keeps on his desk?” Cole's voice sounded quieter.

  Noah's pulse picked up the tempo. “No. Why?”

  “It's an older photo. Crazy styles eighties. Pretty ugly, really. Cutlass used to have hair. But one of the groomsmen looked really familiar. Guess who he is?”

  Noah grinned. “I give up.”

  “Who would have thought that Cutlass would run in the same social circles as a US Senator?”

  Bingo. Noah whistled. “I've got to go. Good luck on that case.”

  Noah clicked off the phone and popped the battery cover off as Jessica stepped out from a cloud of steam. Her short hair was damp and curly around her temples, her cheeks flushed from the warm shower. The t-shirt clung to the peaks of her breasts, and Noah's mouth went dry at the memory of her soft, sweet skin under his tongue.

  He wrenched his gaze upwards. She wore a knowing smile, almost a smirk, that didn’t quite light her eyes. Jess had retreated behind her emotional walls again, he realized. Noah felt the emptiness behind that look like a sucker punch. What the hell was he thinking she would do? Fall into his arms all sweet and devoted after a single night in his bed?

  He gulped down his frustration and disappointment. If anyone in this room was guilty of falling too fast into dangerous emotional territory, it was him. And it had to end. Now, before he lost his job. Or lost their lives. “Get packed. I’m taking you to the airport.”

  Chapter 17

  From behind a glossy white desk, the travel agent cocked her blonde head to one side and gave Jess a quizzical look. “I swear you look familiar. Where did you go to high school?”

  Jess felt a cold flush, like a fever, creep up the back of her neck. “Out of state. I just moved to St. Louis a little while ago.”

  The agent, Darcy according to the big bubble letters on her name tag, gave a “hmm” that sounded unconvinced.

  Jess just smiled back. She gripped her hands tightly in her lap to stop them from trembling. She had come too far to be recognized now. Surely Darcy, who couldn’t be any older than Jessica herself, wouldn’t recognize her here, in a tiny office in a strip mall in the middle of Missouri suburbia.

  “Are you sure I can’t talk you into an all-inclusive trip to Jamaica? Or a cruise? We have a last minute special on Hawaiian cruises this month. Buy five nights, get two free.”

  Jess shook her head. “Maybe next time. I have family in Paris.”

  Darcy clicked away at her keyboard, scratching notes on a sheet of paper. The office walls were covered with travel posters, and the desk had a beach theme with a pencil holder made of a large conch shell, a paper tray with tiny sand dollars hot-glued to the edges. There was also a photo of two smiling children in swimsuits with sand shovels. Jess looked away.

  “It looks like the next flight out of Lambert Airport leaves tomorrow at six AM. You know, I can get you a better deal on the hotel if you can wait until next Tuesday…”

  Jess glanced back at the photo frame. “My sister moved there with her husband last year. She just called me this morning—she’s in labor. My first nephew. I would really like to be there when he arrives.”

  “Aw. Congratulations. Let me just reserve this seat before someone else snatches it away. Do you have your passport with you? And I’m going to need your credit card.”

  Jess gulped as she dug out the small green passport book from her bag. “Is it alright if I pay with cash?”

  “Well, I guess, but that’s more than I usually keep in the office…”

  “Please. I’m a waitress, and I’ve been saving my tip money since my sister told me she was pregnant. I, uh, got in some money trouble a couple of years ago, and I keep getting turned down for credit cards.” Jess set the passport down on the desk and opened her wallet. Her stomach felt queasy from the lies she was telling. And from the knowledge of what might happen if this plan didn’t work.

  The only conversation she and Noah had since they checked out of the motel this morning was about getting her out of the country. She wanted to drive straight to the nearest airport and wait for the next flight, but he pointed out that airports have too much security, too many cameras, too many guards asking too many questions about a passenger who shows up without a plane ticket.

  Darcy pursed magenta-hued lips and tapped matching fingernails on her desk. Then she breathed a dramatic sigh and shook her head. “I can put the plane tickets through. But to reserve a hotel room you definitely need a card.”

  Jess let out a sigh that sounded like a choke. “I don’t need a hotel. I was going to stay at her place anyway. Thank you!”

  Jessica counted out a big stack of bills—mainly twenties with some fives and ones thrown in for good measure.

  Darcy gathered up the money. “I will be right back. I’m going to put this straight in the safe while your itinerary prints.”

  When the agent had disappeared into the back room, Jess grabbed the keyboard and quickly navigated to a fashion website. Her heart jumped as she heard a door shut in the back office. Faster. Darcy will be back in any minute.

  She scrolled through the forums until she found the discussion topic she was looking for, and typed a quick message. “St Louis has beautiful jewelry, but I prefer French designers.”

  At the sound of footsteps, Jess closed the
window and replaced the keyboard, bumping the conch shell pencil holder with her elbow. Pens skittered across the floor, and Jess practically fell out of her chair trying to get down and clean them up.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Darcy’s high-heeled pumps, bright magenta that matched her nails and lips, stopped a few feet from where Jess knelt on the ground, breathing hard. She forced herself to breathe normally. “Yes. Sorry. I’m a klutz.”

  The other woman frowned at her again and held out a folder with her company logo. “Leave those. I will clean them up. Here is your passport back and your itinerary. Have a great trip to Paris.”

  “Any problems?” asked Noah as Jess climbed in the front seat of the car.

  She shut the door behind him and sank into her chair, clutching the folder to her chest with both hands. “Not really.”

  He didn’t say another word until they were back on the freeway. “Now what?”

  Jess reached up to smooth her hair. “My flight leaves early tomorrow morning. Why don’t you drop me at one of the hotels by the airport for the night and take a shuttle in the morning. That way you aren’t seen on camera dropping me off.”

  “Fine.”

  Jess stared out the window, watching as trees and office buildings and factories and schools and houses zipped by. She envied them. Every last one of them, with their busy lives and their families and their jobs. And their homes.

  Noah turned the car into the parking lot of a Drury Inn and parked. He turned to her and opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. His eyes seemed to be teeming with the words. Regret, anger, disappointment, and something she dared not attempt to decipher.

  “Noah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Just…thank you.” She shoved the envelope containing the fake necklace at him.