Looks are Deceiving

by Michele Hart

  Greg elbowed the boy. “Don’t talk too much. Keep the chatter about Elissa down. We’re conning Derek, Allen, and Jerry out of a grand. They, as always, deserve the punishment.”

  Antonio belted out a crooked laugh. “That’s great reason to keep it low.”

  Greg plucked her hand from his cousin’s assumption. “Antonio claims his destiny as the family Casanova.”

  Antonio’s flirty eyes were still fixed on her with wicked intensity. “Do you not think every family needs a wild and unburdened lover of women?” He lifted an eyebrow in drama.

  She placed her hand back into the smooth-talking young man’s care. “Thank God for wild and unburdened lovers of women. How old are you, Antonio?”

  “Seventeen.”

  She gave the young man a blatant wink. “Call me when you hit eighteen.”

  Greg sputtered an overblown chuckle of ridicule. Antonio gave her the okay sign.

  Soon, Greg’s cute cousin was gone, and they divided up the best-smelling seafood pasta she’d ever come across.

  His dark hair still damp and slicked back, Greg stabbed his fork into the noodles and scooped up a bit of the cream sauce, and gave it a taste.

  “Ah. Val’s cooking tonight,” he announced omnipotently, as if he wielded a supernatural sense.

  “You can tell Julian’s and Val’s cooking apart?” Elissa asked, impressed with his discerning taste buds.

  “No,” Greg admitted. “I saw on the schedule Val cooked tonight.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t throw a pillow at you.”

  “Another example of my good planning. No weapons within your reach.”

  Sitting outside on the white wrought-iron patio furniture with their plates and glasses filled with the wine she fell in love with, they watched the colorful smears gather at the setting sun over the west and enjoyed the summer breeze. Memories of last night’s storm danced through her, soul and body. Recall of his touch just minutes ago still throbbed through her with full want of him. He’d tuned her body into his frequency.

  Sudden activity on the other side of the privacy fence drew Elissa’s attention away from fantasies of Greg’s takeover, and she listened as people filled the backyard as if they’d spilled out of the house all at once. Pop music from a famous radio station began to play at a respectful level. Laughter and the sounds of water play rose over the quiet neighborhood, the music of celebration.

  “I like your family,” Elissa told Greg between bites of seafood pasta overstuffed with an incredible cream sauce, a smile for the subject. “They all have such big personalities.”

  He smiled over his wine glass. “My family’s full of characters, none of them quite normal. They’re fun at parties.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Focusing away from the sensations of his fondling, Elissa took a full breath to breach a dangerous subject. She’d already given up too many hints of her life, having identified the gun and the crime car, but all of this mystery made her worry of bigger things.

  Careful in consideration, she decided to reveal what she learned earlier from a former classmate embedded in the FBI. “I called the jail this morning to look in on our robber, Donald Fisher, but he’d been bailed out early last night, didn’t sit behind bars over a few hours.”

  Greg gave a groan. “That’s sad to hear. Donald Fisher. Nope, no recollection of that name.”

  She nodded. “It’s a pretty common name, probably dozens of them in the area.”

  There was in fact one hundred seventy-five Donald Fishers in Florida, sixty-two in the Bay’s three counties alone, but Elissa thought to leave those specific numbers out of the conversation.

  “Our burglar was bailed out by a big-name attorney suspected of an ugly deal or two. It could be a sign that we’re dealing with organized crime.”

  That stopped Greg mid-bite, and he appeared to give the theory a moment of thought. “The Cook-off is big in the restaurant world, for sure. But I can’t see what the crime world could make of it. There’s no Mob in the restaurant world.”

  Serenaded by splashes and the excited shouts of neighbors at the party next door, Elissa smirked, but didn’t abandon the possibility that all this was over a food competition.

  Her instincts told her the situation was deeper than it appeared. The restaurant robbery where nothing was stolen, the appearance of a gunman who preferred moderately-priced wine over outrageous electronics. The clues appeared to be puzzle pieces of a devised Cook-off win, but was it really that simple? Why the shady high-priced attorney, why the crime car?

  Elissa knew better than to take facts at face value when they could well be signs of much deeper quicksand. Whoever orchestrated this rash of assaults against Rubia’s had connections to organized crime and, therefore, there had to be high stakes involved somewhere along the way. “Perhaps, there’s something we don’t know.”

  Greg swirled his noodles against his spoon. “Feeling like a junior detective?”

  “Mystery tickles my mind.”

  “Mystery. Good for fiction, bad for life.”

  A little stab of guilt penetrated her heart for her avoidance of the truth and her outright lies.

  Greg picked at his Caesar salad, collecting all the croutons and dragging them the dressing. “Hopefully, we’ve seen the last of it.”

  Elissa doubted it. Whatever the bad guy wanted, he hadn’t gained it yet.

  Dinner vanquished, she returned to the steps of the pool and took up her book again, hoping to at least get through the last seven pages of the chapter. Just seven pages. Greg occupied himself with some chore, and this was her chance to finish the chapter.

  The neighborhood party next door roared with a growing crowd, sounding as though they watched some sporting event. Elissa wasn’t up on the area sports teams, couldn’t give a guess at the game, although she remembered happy times watching football games with her parents, Miami Dolphins fans to the bone. Inconstant peripheral attention followed Greg in and out of the glass doors doing some task, and she had to purposely re-aim her mind to her work.

  The chapter on organized crime, its psychology and motivations, filled her head, and Elissa sought clues to the probability that the Mob lurked in the shadows, evidenced by the dirty lawyer, some connection to Greg unrevealed. There had to be money and desperation involved to attempt such high-risk jobs as the restaurant robbery and the home invasion. The psychology of a Mob member long ago committed to memory—volatile, changeable, willing to use violence, no sense of personal responsibility—she was discomforted to consider such dangerous people may be watching Greg’s house and business.

  It was all she thought of until she heard a small whiz and glanced up to spot Greg working a little pump to inflate a giant air mattress, big enough for two people and rolling room.

  Rolling room.… Mmmm....

  Now she couldn’t concentrate to study, so she redoubled her efforts, committing to the jamming of facts and theories into her head.

  A few minutes later, she heard a splash, and she looked up from her book to see he’d shoved the inflated mattress into the pool. She could hardly wait to finish the remaining two pages.

  Back to her reading, she was too aware of him again taking a seat on the higher step above and behind her, his tan and hard legs enclosing her sitting on the lower steps, the same position he’d taken to drive her to madness earlier. The hair on his thighs swayed with the water and tickled her arms to profound distraction.

  She couldn’t think at all now.

  The melody of the birthday song from the party next door went up in a cheer.

  Greg began to peel the bathing suit straps from her shoulder at an achingly slow pace. When he pulled the strap down, he kissed the curve of her neck, successfully erasing all residue of study.

  Traits of the professional career criminal. Intelligent and polished, Donald Fisher didn’t speak street, like a petty gang thug or immediately issue threats of violence, other than the ugly gun. He’d remained cool-tempered, even smil
ed when the police car took him to jail. He must have known he’d be out soon.

  The police report had listed Fisher’s age as thirty-two, and he was hardly gang material with a business haircut and good posture. Elissa guessed he probably held a day job, maybe even had a family. He did sound like Mob material.

  “Toffee,” Greg muttered, nuzzling her hair clipped atop her head, his breath tickling her ear.

  Elissa had to set the book down, her concentration smashed. “That was really naive of me to think I could study. I don’t even want to read now.”

  “Yeah, well,” he mumbled against her skin, his warm lips grazing her skin. “You tried, it didn’t work, let’s move on.”

  He slipped his arms through hers and brought her back to lean against him. His hand moved around to lightly stroke her cheeks, his soft contact sending a rash of goose bumps through her. Her goose bumps were deeply in love with Greg.

  Then his bold hands slid lower, and he filled his hands with her breasts, dragging a moan of ecstasy from her with his every caress. Watching his thumbs graze her pebbled nipples sent vibrations through her.

  He groaned in her ear the most sexy male noise she ever heard. “Mmmm… I can’t leave you alone tonight, if you’re going to be gone for three days.”

  Elissa ran her free hand slowly up his tanned leg, enjoying the titillation of the hair scrubbing against her fingers and palms. “Completely understandable, if you feel that way.”

  Placing another light kiss to her throat, he stroked the undercurves of her breasts with a sadistically sluggish speed, waves of titillation seducing her into a mild incoherency.

  “We really can’t waste time if you’ll be rationing my hours with you. Which seems cruel, by the way.”

  Elissa closed her eyes to savor the sensations his touch gave her. “Cruel,” she repeated in a dismissing manner.

  “So, what’s going to happen in the next few days that’ll keep you so busy?”

  “There’s the job at Reno’s and classes, day and night. My bookkeeping job at the planetarium.”

  “Sounds like you had a full life before I came along,” he said like a discovery.

  “Well, my life is full, but not necessarily a full life. More study than anything.”

  “What classes do you have tomorrow?” he asked curiously.

  Elissa stumbled for a safe answer. “Nothing interesting to the average person. Something-ology.” She hoped he sensed her answer for what it really was, a closed door, and she hoped he respected it.

  A moment lingered between them, pregnant with questions. She wished he didn’t ask them. She feared the next lie she’d have to tell him.

  “So, you watch a lot of crime shows. Like danger, do you?” Greg said low from behind into Elissa’s ear, his breath drifting down her neck and slipping into her cleavage where he traced wavy lines over her breasts, teasing her.

  She felt relief for the change of subject and dizzy at the application of his hands. “Justice turns me on.”

  “Or is it bad boys who turn you on?”

  She gave a little titter. “I don’t think it’s bad boys who turn me on.”

  “You’ll have to let a bad boy change that. Get rid of that book before you find it at the bottom of the pool.”

  She giggled again, and he didn’t wait for her to close the book, but plucked the textbook from the stone edge of the pool and tossed it into the grassy yard.

  “You like being the boss, don’t you?”

  He stood, not the slightest shy to stand before her naked and glorious—she hadn’t noticed he’d stripped raw!—and he held out his hand. Now she couldn’t hold any thought on any subject at all but his toasty Latin-tanned flesh, his damp hair tossed sexily in catawampus angles. Oh ... the heat in his dark eyes … and everything below them.

  “I do like being the boss. Wanna live dangerously for a while?” Greg offered, his bright grin full of mischief.

  The party roared again at some great gain from their side of the privacy fence, a joyous serenade to Greg’s and Elissa’s fiery attraction urging them on, smiles to their faces. She felt embarrassment that they had nudity going on on this side of the fence.

  Anticipating the melt of his eyes, Elissa placed her hand in his, and he guided her up the steps and out of the pool. He passed her wine glass to her, and she took a deep sip, unable to wipe the eager smile from her lips or dart her eyes away from him.

  Above the neck, don’t look down. Everything below his strong chin, sweet to kiss, was danger and thrill, peril and pleasure, hot risk and reward. The most sensuous incredible hazard of her life.

  Oh, look down. His bronzed body was so beautiful … and exciting. He was all hard muscle and thrust. She wanted to reach out and take his cock into her hand and stroke him until he was rock-hard and starving for her.

  Elissa tipped her glass to her lips, finished her wine, and imagined tasting him with the grape.

  Greg took the glass from her hand, set both glasses on the white wrought-iron table. Beside the water, he tugged her into his arms. It felt so dangerous to be outside with him so naked, delicious, and tempting with people just yards away. “Are you sure there are no holes in your privacy fence?”

  “I’m aware of several rather large holes, right at sight level.”

  She snickered against his shoulder as he swept her body with his hands in a slow exploration, snapping the spandex from her body as if it violated his sacred territory. The small jeopardy of being discovered titillated her.

  “This must go. It’s in my way.”

  Elissa giggled, and Greg peeled away the bathing suit, leaving her to cross her arms over her nudity. Before she could suspect his evil motives, Greg snatched her up by her waist and tossed her onto the inflated mattress floating on the water. Elissa shrieked from the surprise, and she smacked a hand over her mouth to keep from drawing the attention of the crowd next door.

  He leapt onto the mattress beside her, rocking the boat and causing another explosive laughter from both of them that probably blended into the neighborhood noise.

  “Sh,” Greg whispered at her feet, his tone sneaky. “They might hear us.”

  Just gazing down her unclothed body at him caused Elissa a cascade of sensations like a waterfall spinning a paddle wheel. The setting sun made the water droplets sliding down his toasty skin sparkle. He looked reckless, and oh-so libidinous. She had to lick her lips, dried from the moisture of her body shifting downward.

  An intent gleam in his eye, he started at her ankles, straddled her legs and began a slow crawl up her body like a predator trapping his dinner.

  “It might not be a great idea to make love to me out here, Greg.”

  He passed her hips, his face inches away from the curls of her sex, placed a feather kiss there, then another kiss on her bellybutton as he crawled upward. The way his dark-chocolate eyes caressed her so hungrily made her ache.

  “I think it’s the best idea in the world.”

  “After last night, I can testify to the fact that I can’t keep quiet.”

  His smile ripened into a full-fledged passion for risk, and he paused to stare at her breasts. “God, I know. It was music to my ears.”

  Elissa sucked her lips into her mouth, distrusting herself not to giggle aloud. He was so damned cute. If Greg were the Devil, she’d consider a life of sin.

  “Irresistible impulse …” she pled aloud in a long moan.

  Fully above her now, he smiled, badness and debauchery dancing in his eyes. His hair was wild, his gaze anticipating and eager.

  “You seemed like such a good boy when I met you.”

  Greg descended on her, filled his mouth with her unshielded breast, sending her hands into his hair and causing her to arch and moan and lose all reason. Her knees rose to hug his torso, pressing him against her in case he tried to get away.

  “Shh,” he demanded around her nipple, the movement of his lips and rush of his breath on her wet flesh sending more bliss and tension through her.


  “People might hear you, Elissa.... You’re not supposed to cry out, you bad girl. But I’m going to make you do it, anyway.”

  He descended on her other breast and suckled her until only iron discipline kept her from uttering desperate moans. He made her body ache for him. She caught herself in a tight grip of his damp black hair and had to release him several times at the realization, but he didn’t let up on her at all. He did make her cry out more than once beyond her suppression, no matter how much being heard would’ve embarrassed her.

  Greg sat up on his knees between her open knees, his power position. Feeling the roll of the water beneath them added to the intoxication. Seeing him and his conquest smile between her legs rocked her with another shudder.

  He stroked the sensitive flesh of her inside thighs. “You should feel the heat coming off you, Elissa. You’re scorching hot.”

  His mere contact in intimate places put her just where he left off when the doorbell rang, on the verge of starvation for him. She didn’t know how she’d stay quiet enough not to draw the curiosity of the party guests. She couldn’t stay quiet when he touched her like this.

  “You could take me into the bedroom now,” she muttered between rushed breaths.

  Greg shook his head in abject denial, no mercy in his eye. His hand slid to the apex of her thighs, and his thumb stroked through the hair there, sending a new shiver through her. “Not gonna happen that way.”

  She felt his finger slide down the folds of her pussy with sadistic delay, then he penetrated her, drawing another gasp she couldn’t hold back, and he pressed upward in a long glide all the way into her, making her shiver, whimper, and pant.

  Not even cognizant of his move over her, she felt his breath tickle her ear as he slid his finger over the most sensitive spot. “My neighbors are going to see you around my house and know you were the one gasping, Elissa....”

  She shuddered beyond her control, and she gritted her teeth not to cry out from the orgasm he gave her like sensuous torture.

  Collecting full breath into her oxygen-starved lungs, she blathered, “If you had any decency, you’d take me inside.”

  “I have no decency,” he whispered, his voice deep and stirring her more. “I haven’t held a clean thought about you since I laid eyes on you.”