“Oh, yes. I love your cock.”
He growled. She pumped. He kissed.
The moment her hands found the back of his head, she tightened her hold. Whorls of ecstasy radiated from inside her. Heat licked flames up her ass with each movement. She’d tense and release just for the sensation of driving the glass cock further into her. She closed her eyes and pictured Max in her ass and Ian in her pussy. The image was a drug, leading her to the future.
Max’s passion poured out of him and into her heart. The love matched nothing she’d ever experienced. He was her breath. And she wanted him in her life.
He took hold of her hips and held her steady.
“I need you.” His voice quivered, and then he blew away her mind.
As he pumped into her, his tantalizing kiss wreaked havoc to her soul. Her wild need and heightened desire overshadowed all thought as his cock expanded inside her. Molten yearnings filled her as her pending climax rose. His eyes closed, and his mouth opened. He drove into her as if to stop would be to die.
She dropped her head forward and sucked in a huge breath as her orgasm threatened to rain down on her. Electric sparks exploded inside as the blood pounded in her head.
“Max! Yes!” Her primal call reverberated off the walls as his final plunge sent her over the edge. Her climax eclipsed all others.
Heat pulsed from his cock as he expanded and contracted to the beat of his rapid-firing heart. His climax kept going. Out of breath, she clasped him tight for fear of losing him. He rubbed her back as he slowly regained his composure.
She couldn’t move, so he walked her over to the bed and gently lowered her. She unwrapped her legs and let them fall to the floor. Without a word, he disappeared into her bathroom and returned with a wet towel to clean her.
“I’m not sure I’m ever going to get up again.” She wasn’t exaggerating.
“I thought we had a thief to capture.”
“Oh, yeah.” Right now that was the furthest thing from her mind.
Chapter Fourteen
“You sure you don’t want to go in and speak with your manager?” Max still didn’t have a handle on how this was going to go down.
He told Devonne there was no way he’d let her confront the driver of the delivery truck. Men who stole had guns. Guns killed. If he’d had his weapons, he’d settle this the Wyoming way.
“No. If Heather knows I’m in town, she might say something to the driver.”
“You’re convinced he’s guilty?” She had no proof of anything.
“No, but that’s why we’re here.”
She’d looked up the delivery schedule. The truck was supposed to arrive around 2:00 p.m. at the back of the store. The problem was where to park. One positive was that they were in his rental instead of her red BMW. He drove down the back alley three times before someone pulled out of a spot. He parked as far away as possible so Devonne would be out of danger.
“Keep your phone out and your finger on 911 in case something bad happens.”
“I’m the one who should be videotaping this. I might be able to recognize the person.”
There was no way in hell he’d put her in danger. “This may be Los Angeles, but I’m betting there aren’t too many angels about. Please, for me, keep the door locked. You can see the unloading from here.”
She opened her mouth but quickly shut it. Devonne might have a stubborn streak, but she also was smart.
“Fine. But don’t get too close.”
“Sit in the driver’s seat and get the hell out if anything bad happens.”
“I’d die if you get hurt.”
“I won’t.”
He kissed her good-bye and, with the Flip camera in hand, eased his way down the street. Halfway down the block he looked back and couldn’t even see her head from the back window. Good. She was hiding.
Positioning himself behind another van, he waited for the delivery truck to arrive. He didn’t mind doing whatever it took to make Devonne happy, but the stench coming from the Dumpsters churned his stomach. At least it wasn’t blistering hot.
While he waited, he repeatedly glanced at his rental to make sure no one questioned why a beautiful woman was sitting in a car alone. Anyone could come by and hassle her. He prayed she’d be willing to take off and leave him if she sensed danger.
The rumbling of a truck sharpened his senses. He turned on the video camera and got ready to shoot the evidence. Hidden behind the van, he didn’t think he’d be noticed. If the owner of the van came out and caught him, he might have to wait for another time. There were no other vehicles to hide behind.
The truck pulled up to the back entrance of the store. Instead of him going inside right away, a tall woman with blonde, spiky hair came out and planted a kiss on the guy. His gut soured, hoping this wasn’t Devonne’s trusted manager, Heather. If her good friend betrayed her, the hurt would cut her deeply.
The beefy-looking man opened the back and took out a handcart. He loaded three boxes onto it and headed into the store while leaving the back open. Maybe that was how the thefts occurred. He scoured the streets looking for someone who might be lingering, but no one else was outside. Taking a deep breath, he waited until the man emerged from the back. Again, the spiky-haired blonde accompanied him. Once more the van driver loaded his dolly with three large boxes. As he pushed the cart forward, the blonde stopped him. She tapped the second box. Damn. He wished he’d been able to get closer so he could hear the conversation. The man removed the box and placed it back inside the truck. That was an interesting turn of events. Perhaps that box hadn’t been one she’d ordered.
Thinking there was more to this gig, he kept watch. Three more times out of seven, the blonde would have the man return a box. When the guy closed the back of the truck, he hugged and kissed the woman good-bye. Max turned off the camera, crossed the street, and walked away from the store and toward Devonne.
He tapped the driver’s side window. She unlocked the door. “Change positions. I’m driving.”
She got out and rushed to the other side. Once she was seated, she looked over at him. He started the engine, determined to see if the man would return the boxes to the warehouse or someplace else.
“That was Heather with her boyfriend, Craig.” From the way her voice wavered, this wasn’t good.
“What you do think is happening?” He had a guess, but he wanted confirmation.
“She knows about the theft, damn her. What are we going to do?”
“Follow him.”
Devonne leaned back and said nothing more. Her mind must have been racing. He waited for the delivery truck to pass, and then he did a U-turn. Not wanting to be too obvious, he let another car get between them.
“He’s heading out of the main shopping district.”
That signified nothing to him. He dug into his pocket and handed her the camera. “Just in case we need more documentation, have it ready.”
She sat up, seemingly bolstered by her ability to do something useful. “He turned right onto Waring Avenue.”
Max followed. The smaller streets had less traffic than the main thoroughfare.
She leaned forward. “If he’s going back to the warehouse, he’ll take a left in two streets.”
He wasn’t sure what he wanted the guy to do. When the driver didn’t take the left hand turn, Devonne clasped the camera tight.
The truck continued going east for another mile then made a right down a back alley. Max continued for another block until he found a place to park. He lifted the camera from her hands. “You know the rules.”
“Hurry.”
The fact she didn’t argue implied this might get dangerous. He trotted back to the street. The delivery truck was parked in front of a store called Cheap Designs. Forcing his breath to calm, he crossed the street to where a car was parked. As soon as the deliveryman went into the store, Max hid behind the car. Once more he was thankful no one was around to ask him questions. Camera ready, he kept the lens focused on the fr
ont door. The driver returned with the cart and loaded up two boxes, the same boxes that were supposed to go to Devonne’s store. When he believed he had enough evidence, he stood and casually walked back to his car.
He slipped in. Devonne’s hands were woven together. “So.”
“Have you ever heard of a store called Cheap Designs?”
“No.”
“The driver delivered your five boxes there.”
“Damn.”
He didn’t want her to jump to any conclusions. “Perhaps the boxes truly weren’t meant for your boutique.”
“We’ll see. Can we go back to the store? It’s time Heather and I had a talk.”
“Okay, but I don’t think it would be wise to tell her we videotaped everything. If you find out you were shorted five boxes, we need to go to the police.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Can you wait a minute? I want to go into Cheap Designs to find out who owns this store.”
“I’m coming with you.”
She smiled, the first one he’d seen today. “You might have to do some playacting and help me pick out a dress.”
“As long as I get to take off said dress at the end of the day, I can be the best damned actor you’ve ever seen.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “Did I ever tell you that I adore you?”
“Yes, but I’m a show rather than tell type of guy.”
“Aren’t you, though?” She smiled and stepped out of the car. “I may have to make some stuff up, so go along with me.”
He’d do whatever it took to make her happy. With an arm secure around her waist, they entered the store. He’d never been in a woman’s boutique before, but he didn’t expect it to be so crowded.
Devonne scanned the racks and walked over to the one labeled Discount Designer Designs. She pushed open the dresses and lifted one from the rack. She looked at the label. “This can’t be,” she whispered. When she saw the price tag, she slammed the dress back onto the rack.
He leaned over. “What?”
“It’s the same dresses that I order. I pay over five hundred dollars for one dress, and yet this place is selling it for three hundred.”
“Maybe they’re knockoffs.”
“No. I’m trained to spot a fake.” She grabbed his hand and strode over to the counter.
They waited in line until it was her turn. “I’d like to speak with the manager.” Max was impressed with the professional tone.
The young girl with multicolored hair looked around. “She’s not here.”
“Then who is in charge today?”
“That would be Paul.” The girl nodded to a too-thin man speaking on the phone.
Devonne smiled sweetly and headed toward the man. Once more, she patiently waited until he finished his conversation.
The man faced her. “May I help you?”
“I hope so. I’m Elizabeth Watterson.” His eyes widened as if he’d heard the name. “I have a line of clothing that I’d love to have you sell here.”
“Oh, my. Of course, Ms. Watterson. I love your jersey collection.” He held out his hand. “I’m Paul Winthrop.”
Devonne glanced around. “I have to admit that I’ve not been in here before, but I’m impressed with your selection of clothing.”
“That’s the owner’s golden touch.”
“Who would that be?”
“Heather Ransom.”
Oh, shit. The chances that both Devonne’s store manager and this owner had the same first name seemed slim.
“Is Heather here?”
“I’m afraid she only comes in the evening and on Thursdays.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Do you have a card?”
Crap. Now what was she going to do?
“Yes.” She opened her purse and looked through the contents. “Damn. I’ve left mine at home. I’ll stop by tomorrow with my card.”
“No problem, Ms. Watterson.”
She turned and took metered steps until she was out the door. Devonne’s shoulders were as still as a fence post. As soon as she turned the corner, the expletives flew.
He understood her frustration. Taking her by the shoulder, he turned her toward him and hugged her tight. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Fucking-A we will.”
His heart ached. “I wish I could take away your pain.”
She leaned back. Her eyes shimmered. “Me, too.”
“What’s next?”
“How about some lunch? I need to calm down before I confront Heather. Maybe it’s all a mistake, but I recognized the clothes that I’m missing, and they’re in her store.”
“Did you know Heather had a store?”
“Hell, no. I thought I kept her so busy that she didn’t have time for anything. She’s always telling me how tired she is, but I never guessed the reason why.” Devonne stabbed a hand through her hair. “I’ve been on the road too long. I should have kept closer tabs on her.”
He escorted her to the car. “It’s not your fault. You did the best you could.”
“Bullshit. It is my fault. The buck stops at the owner.”
He had no answer for that. She was right. They piled into the car. “Where to?”
“There’s a cute café right down the street from my shop. It’s late, so we’ll miss the lunch crowd.”
He said nothing as he headed back to her store. They had to park three blocks away, but he figured the walk would do her good. He ordered a burger, but she only wanted a salad.
“You have to eat.”
She huffed out a laugh. “This is eating. I’m not hungry. The coffee is what I really need.”
“To jack you up some more?”
She glowered at him. “There are times when it is best to leave the beast alone.”
He burst out laughing at her attempt to look mean. “Duly warned.”
Once they finished their meal, she seemed a bit calmer. “I have to paint on a happy face. God, but I hate pretending.”
Since Devonne seemed to need her distance, he walked alongside her but said nothing. As soon as they walked in the store, the first thing he noticed was the delicious scent. He couldn’t identify the smell, but he knew he liked it. The aroma reminded him of Devonne.
The boutique wasn’t large, but everything appeared high-end, from the ornate mirrors on the wall to the display racks. Three women were browsing, and two well-dressed women were by their sides. He guessed they were employees there to help in the selection process. One of the women looked up and smiled. She tapped the customer on the shoulder, said something, and dashed down the aisle.
“You’re back!” While the woman’s voice didn’t carry, she was bustling with enthusiasm.
“I just got here.” Devonne gave her a hug. “Heather e-mailed me and said we’d have some issues.”
“Yes. It’s terrible. Heather’s in the office.”
“Thanks.” Devonne nodded and strode toward the back. He didn’t want her to have to handle Heather alone, so he followed her. She spun around. “I want to do this myself.”
From her pinched lips, it was a matter of need rather than a desire. “You’re the boss.”
Her smile came out weak. Once Devonne disappeared, he edged his way to the door. If there was a confrontation, he wanted to be there. The thick door prevented him from hearing, but he would have heard if a fight broke out.
She must have spent fifteen minutes inside. Hopefully, Devonne was learning about what items had been taken. He prayed she wouldn’t confront Heather. That could turn into something ugly. The door opened, and Heather and Devonne were in an embrace.
She looked up. “Oh.” She spun around and faced Heather. “I brought back a souvenir from Wyoming.”
Max held out his hand and put on his best imitation of a rancher. “Howdy, ma’am.” He winked at Devonne then turned back to Heather. “They sure do grow ’em mighty purdy in California.”
He inwardly groaned. When Heather blushed at the compliment, he knew
he’d pulled off a fine acting job. Devonne threaded her arm in his. “Ready to see some of Los Angeles’s finest sights?”
“Sure am, darlin’.”
Devonne looked over her shoulder. “Keep an eye on the inventory.”
“Oh, I will.”
From the strength in Devonne’s grip, things hadn’t gone well.
Once outside, she faced him. “I want to press criminal charges against that bitch.”
“Remind me never to cross you.”
“For men, I’ll use a knife.”
He had to laugh if only to diffuse the situation. “I’m thinking my reflexes are a bit faster than yours, but I’ll keep that threat in mind. I trust our next stop is the police station?”
Chapter Fifteen
After the sergeant took their statement, he downloaded their evidence in his computer. “The problem I see is that you never got a shot of the inside of the truck. You don’t know if he had more boxes in the back. You also didn’t follow him back to the warehouse. He might have had the wrong boxes in the first place.”
Devonne expected this resistance. She pulled out the invoices from the warehouse and what Heather wrote down as having arrived. “Can you see that twenty boxes were sent, but only fifteen were logged in as received?”
The officer studied her receipts. “Yes.”
“Here’s another receipt. On this one, I order sixteen boxes, but only twelve were received.” She let him ponder the discrepancy.
“Hmm. Since the driver and your manager kissed, that could imply he’s working for her.”
“Add in the fact that the clothes I ordered, but never received, ended up in Heather’s store and yes, I’m accusing her of the theft.”
“Let me speak with my supervisor and see if we can get a warrant to search her records. She’d have to have a bill of sale for these goods, right?”
“Yes, and she won’t.”
“Maybe next time you should supervise the unloading of the items.”
“I’ll do that.” She felt bad enough for shirking her responsibilities, but she had trusted Heather.
Intimate Illusions [The Callens 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12