Miss Behave

by Wylde, Tara

  Can’t hold back a chuckle at that. “Guess not .”

  “Tom must’ve snatched my ID when he was pulling me off Nasmith. One of them must’ve grabbed the drugs. Someone might remember.” James sneaks a sip of my cold tea and pulls a face. “Eww. Might be able to track down that escort, as well. Get her to come forward .”

  “No! ” That cannot happen .

  “I’m just gonna talk to her .”

  “Let the police do it!” I slide around behind him. His shoulders are tense. I start working out the knots. “Those people could be dangerous. If you need to confront Tom, that’s one thing, but some desperate criminal—someone who’d take money to keep you drugged and helpless—no. No. Have someone else do it. Someone whose job it is .”

  “Mm....” James is relaxing into the massage. Good. He can be talked into things when he’s sleepy and comfortable. Or out of them. “Guess I could do that .”

  “And Tom—does it really need to be you who goes after him ?”

  He stiffens. “Yes. It’s not what you think—not some matter of pride or revenge, or whatever. This is about....” His eyes are dark and earnest, when he turns to face me. “Look—do you trust me ?”

  Well.... “You’ve always been honest .”

  “Then trust me on this. Tom and Nasmith, they’ll have been falling all over themselves, covering their tracks, but I think I can make ‘em slip up. Create a situation where they have to stick their necks out. But I won’t be alone with them. This’ll happen at Dovecote. In the middle of the day. What’s the worst they can do ?”

  “I don’t know.” And that’s the problem. “Crimes happen in broad daylight all the time. I mean, a hundred percent of bank robberies happen between nine and five .”

  “Except the ones where they tunnel into the vault at night .”

  I pinch his arm. “Not funny .”

  “I swear to you—three days, maybe four, I’ll be with you. Just me and you and all those olive trees. We can have a whole other honeymoon .”

  The idea certainly has its appeal, but.... “How are you even going to get in? To work, I mean ?”

  “Takes time to put together a buyout.” James gets up again and resumes his pacing. “Meanwhile, Dovecote’s still mine. Might be a little awkward if Nasmith got a restraining order, but even that takes time. Shouldn’t be a problem yet .”

  “What are you going to do? At least tell me that .”

  Instead of telling me, he pulls me to my feet. “C’mon—I need another shower .”

  “What—now ?”

  “Right now .”

  “But—“

  He places a finger over my lips. “No buts. Please. I promise you, I’m going to fix this. All of it. Your reputation, my work—gonna set it all to rights .”

  Somehow, I find myself believing him .

  “And then, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If you’ll have me .”

  Of course I will. But... “I don’t know. Sounds like famous last words .”

  He grips my shoulders tight. There’s something calm in his gaze, something steady and reassuring. “Not this time. We’ve had our big disaster. This is just...tying up loose ends .”

  “Tying up loose ends .”

  He tugs my hand again. “Come on.” This time I let him lead me to the shower. If we have to say goodbye, at least for a while, I’m not letting it be like before. I’m going to show him how much I love him. Give him something to fight for .

  James seems to have the same idea. He turns me to the mirror as he undresses me, admiring my reflection over my shoulder as he unbuttons my shirt. “Whose place is this, anyway ?”

  “Kate’s. And she’s going to kill me when she finds out I broke into her cabin and didn’t even invite her to the party .”

  “Mm... This is a private party.” He slides my shirt down over my shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. “You look so good like this, all rumpled and wild.” I lean into him as he musses his fingers around in my hair, messing it up even more .

  “Feels nice .”

  “Yeah? And how’s this?” He twists the hair at the nape of my neck around his hand to hold me in place, and lets his other hand wander. We might not have the strawberries and cream we talked about, but this is what I’ve been waiting for. I sigh as he circles my navel with his finger, spiraling out across my belly. It’s a soft touch, not even a particularly naughty one, but it sends tingles down my thighs all the same .

  “Keep going .”

  He does. I feel him pressing up against me with increasing urgency as he unhooks my skirt. It follows my shirt to the floor. His hand plunges down my panties, finding me already wet for him. I move against him as his fingers find their rhythm, not teasing this time, but giving me what I need, quick little circles that set those lights blazing behind my eyes .

  “Like that ....”

  He curls his fingers in my hair, tilting my head back farther and farther. He’s devouring me with kisses, nipping at my throat, lapping my earlobe. The slight pain at my scalp only makes it better, adds a layer of intensity I’ve come to crave .

  “Let me look .”

  He releases my hair just enough to let me watch. The way his fingers writhe and squirm’s so crass, so vulgar, but I can’t take my eyes off it. I can see where the slickness has spread to my thighs, glistening in the fluorescent light. “Gonna have a lifetime of this.” He keeps his thumb on my clit, two fingers finding their way inside. I gasp as he curls them just right. “Do this every day, till I teach you to come on command .”

  A full-body shudder goes through me. “Command me now—I wouldn’t say no .”

  “Don’t need to now, do I?” His breath’s warm and ticklish on my neck. “One little twitch, and I don’t think you could help yourself.” He follows through on his threat, moving his fingers just so, and —

  “Ah!”

  He keeps fondling me through it, till I’m weak in the knees. “See? Told you .”

  “Smug bastard .”

  “Mm... Let’s get under that water.” James wipes his fingers on my leg. I go to elbow him, but he’s already darted out of the way. Guess he’s feeling better. I step out of my panties and bra, and follow him into the shower .

  He looses a deep groan. “Hot water feels so good .”

  I can’t resist. It’s right there, hard as I’ve ever seen it. I grasp his cock, stroking it slowly. “So I see .”

  “Nah, that’s all for you.” He reaches for the shampoo—gardenia-scented; almost empty. “But I can wait. Want us to take our time. In the bed .”

  “No telling how long the hot water’ll hold out .”

  “Exactly.” He hands me the shampoo. “Here—you do me; I’ll do you. Get us done faster .”

  I’m pretty sure that’s not faster, but if he wants to pretend he doesn’t love having his hair played with, that’s fine by me .

  Pretty soon we’re collapsing into bed. James pins me in a familiar position, one hand clenching my wrists above my head, the other on my hip. His knee jostles my thighs apart. He looks down at me, something both warm and fierce in his eyes. “I always wondered—you never said. Our first time together—Was that ...?”

  “My first time?” I nod .

  “You never said.” He kisses me thoroughly, hand coming to rest on my belly. “Why didn’t you tell me ?”

  “We barely knew each other. Didn’t want you to think you’d taken something from me, if it didn’t work out .”

  “I want to give you everything.” He’s petting my pregnant curves in a way I can only describe as protective. I bite my lip on a plea—then leave with me! Right now, tonight! It wouldn’t work, anyway. We’d be stopped at the airport. He’d have to go back .

  James soothes me with a gentle thumb over my wrists. “Don’t think about tomorrow .”

  “Give me something else to think about .”

  He lets go of my wrists to hold me around the waist as he flips us over. “I’m yours .”

&
nbsp; “So you are....” Should never have let him figure out that I want him as bad as he wants me. That smug look he gets when I take what I want is positively insufferable. Even on top, I’m under his spell, and he knows it .

  Some time during our shower, it started to rain. The water streaking down the windows casts odd, flowing shadows on his body. I follow their contours along the lines of his muscles, as I take him slow and easy. He responds to my touch with gasps and sighs, making no secret of his enjoyment. I tease him, circling his nipples, dragging my fingers across his stomach, till he traps my hand in his .

  I can’t resist him when he sucks and bites at my fingers, when he flutters his tongue between them, reminding me of more intimate acts. Can’t make myself go slow. My shadow stretches across the wall, riding him with wild abandon. I find myself staring at my silhouette, familiar, yet changed, round in places that once lay flat. As if he’d ever have walked away from me, from this .

  He’s matching my rhythm now, thrusting into me, hard and deep. I close my eyes, letting it all wash over me. A bright, warm pleasure’s rising inside me, and I want to make it last. I rock my hips, wringing a low moan from him .

  Sheets of rain patter against the glass. There’s something exciting about the sound, about the whipping of branches in the wind. James feels it too—I can tell by the way he throws his head back, brings up his knee to nudge me into a kneeling position, leaning over him. He rakes his hands down my sides, kneads my hips. Guides my strokes, now slow and long, now quick and shallow, till we’re panting in each other’s arms .

  “Close...” he murmurs .

  Me, too. I nod: go ahead .

  Another moment, and he’s spilling inside of me, and somehow, it’s the thought of it that edges me over—being close to him in that way .

  I sink down next to him on the pillows. “We should come here again some time. Get our own place, I mean .”

  He gathers me into his arms, strong and possessive. “We could go skinnydipping .”

  “You know there’s, like...a hundred cabins, this side of the lake alone ?”

  “So?”

  “Shame on you—a married man !”

  “Married to you.” He kisses the back of my neck. “And you love it.” Those kisses wander along my shoulder. “Think of it: You and me and the moonlight ...”

  “Catfish biting our toes .”

  He kicks my ankle, not hard. “No catfish. Just the light of a million stars, dancing on the water .”

  “Well, when you put it that way ....”

  I’m not sure when I drift off to sleep, but next thing I know, the air’s full of birdsong, and it’s time to go. James is already up and dressed. Not sure whose clothes he’s found, but he doesn’t look half bad in a Hawaiian shirt. Those pants, though—magenta’s not his color .

  I don’t want to think about what happens next, but in less than two hours, he’ll be dropping me off at the airport. And he’ll be headed for...just what, I don’t know. I hate not knowing .

  I stand up and hug him tight, holding back every protest, every plea. This is the plan, and maybe there was never another choice. I’m not going to make it harder than it needs to be .

  When he hugs me back, it feels like a goodbye .

  21

  J ames

  Thought I’d be leaving the police station with a flea in my ear, but all in all, I’m pretty satisfied. Smug, even. Turns out the Fentanyl story sprang more leaks than a colander before I even came to my senses—chief among which, it was never missing to begin with. Honestly, I’m not surprised. The theft never needed to be real. It just had to make the papers. Just like with that pension check .

  Could’ve forked over Diana’s glass right there and then, spilled my guts and let the wheels of justice spin. But my worst suspicions are sitting in my belly like lead. I need to know, one way or the other—and hopefully catch Tom red-handed in the process .

  Main thing is, no one’s after me. Nasmith isn’t bothering to press charges. Thinks he’s already won .

  Now, to make sure Tom does, too .

  I roll up my window to cut the noise of the highway, speed-dial Tom, and prepare for an Oscar-worthy performance .

  “Hello? Jim? Is that you ?”

  Damn straight it is. “He—hello? Tom? Is that... Oh, God !”

  “Jim? You all right? Where are you?” I hear typing in the background. Asshole’s not even pretending to give me his full attention .

  “I...I’m—I don’t know. Driving. I... She’s gone, Tom !”

  He sighs. “I know. I’m so sorry. Listen, are you near anything? If you can pull over somewhere, I’ll come to you .”

  I draw in a long, shuddering breath. “You... Wait, you know? How — ?”

  “Well, I mean, you went home to break up with her, didn’t you? Didn’t seem like you’d really thought it through, but—Jesus, Jim, we’ve been looking everywhere for you! I even ended up at the morgue, identifying a body that—“ He fakes a pretty convincing gag. “—Jesus. Coroner pulled back that sheet, I was so sure it’d be you, I actually saw you for a second .”

  Sure you did. “Sorry—I... That’s....” Fucked up. A body? Where’d he even come up with a story like that ?

  “Hey. It’s okay. You’re safe. What street are you on? See anything familiar ?”

  I gasp. Cough. Pretend to catch my breath. “Wait—wait. I was going to break up with her? With Diana ?”

  “You don’t remember ?”

  I let my voice go small and quavery—easier than I thought it’d be. Tom’s creeping me right the hell out. “I don’t remember anything. I... Did I yell at Nasmith ?”

  He does a shaky chuckle. “Sure did. At me, too, a little bit .”

  “Sorry.”

  “You really sound terrible. Why don’t you head home? I can come by later, pick you up something to eat .”

  Fuck, no. “No. No—Think I’m gonna.... Think I’ll swing by Diana’s old place. I—shit, Tom, I gotta find her! Gotta....” I start breathing hard. “Listen, I... Thanks for everything. I’ll try and drag myself in later, get everything wrapped up for...for ....”

  “Wait! You don’t have to — “

  I hang up on him. I want him stressed out all morning, anticipating my unstable, potentially destructive presence in the office .

  Meanwhile, well, far be it from me to disappoint. Got the perfect comeback outfit waiting at home: my nasty, pukey bad-trip clothes—can’t believe Diana hugged me in those. Gonna show up at Dovecote shambling like a zombie and reeking of the low life. Let ‘em think I indulged in some self-medication, on my own account. Rub a little whiskey behind my ears—why not ?

  First, though, I’ve got to check in on Percy. Diana left him with the run of her yard, and a neighbor to feed him, but he’ll need a real walk. Give Tom time to get good and riled up while I get my wits about me .

  Plan in place, I pull out of the parking lot .

  * * *

  I roll into Dovecote around three. Now it’s all happening, I’m having a hard time staying cool. There’s a heart-sized lump in my throat, and I’m thrumming with nervous tension. It feels real, all of a sudden—in a fuck, I could die right here kind of way .

  But that’s silly. I’m not going to die .

  I could still turn around. Loop back to the police station, let them handle the heavy lifting. They might not be able to get the whole picture, but there’ll be enough to put Tom away for years. Probably Nasmith too .

  No. I’ve come this far .

  I take several deep, steadying breaths and stagger out of my car. Nasmith’s dumb gold Lexus is parked next to mine. Wish I still felt sick enough to puke on it, but... This’ll have to do. I whip out my keys and etch a wavering line from taillight to mirror. The metal-on-metal screech hurts my teeth, but it’s worth it. Been wanting to do that for years .

  I march inside to the blatting of his car alarm. I see him on the walkway already, rushing for the elevator. That’s right. Out you go .
r />   “Dr. Ashby ?”

  I sketch my best drunken salute at the receptionist. “Morning, Mr....Brangel—Branden...Burger .”

  He stabs a button on his intercom. Calling in the big guns, no doubt. There’s a chance I’m hamming it up a bit hard, but one thing’s for sure: I’ve got their attention now. I step into one elevator just as Nasmith boards the other. Wish we had those glass cars, so I could give him the finger at the halfway point .

  He’s not my target, though. Not yet, anyway. I stumble down the hall, flump into my office chair, and await Tom’s arrival. I know the fucker’s here. Ready to soothe the savage beast one last time. But this time, that beast is going to bite. I open a random spreadsheet—lysosomal enzyme release levels at two-hour intervals following irradiation. Not even my work, but it’ll do just fine .

  “Jim! When’d you get here?” He looks me up and down. “Shit—Do you need me to call someone ?”

  And... Right on cue .

  I lift my head, focusing on a spot just to Tom’s left. “Just...making things right.” My hand spasms on the mouse—involuntarily. Not good. “Before I go .”

  “Okay—okay. Making things right.” Tom’s circling like a dogcatcher about to noose a pitbull. “But what are we talking about? Something I can help with ?”

  “This!” I spin my monitor to face him. It almost flies off the desk. “Uh...my bad .”

  Tom glances at the spreadsheet. His brow knits. “Yeah, uh—That doesn’t mean much to me. Once more in English ?”

  I turn my monitor back, type in some nonsense. “I lied before .”

  “About what ?”

  “Don’t need to dissect any tumors to know—“ I manage a hiccup, a deranged little giggle. “—to know our protocol barely out—outper...barely beat the placebo. Got our ass kicked by plain old cisplatin .”

  Tom narrows his eyes. “You can’t know that .”

  I wink. “Wanna bet ?”

  “You’re panicking. Not thinking straight .”

  “Am I ?”