Stella, Get Your Man

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Stella, Get Your Man Page 24

by Nancy Bartholomew


  Jake leaned down and kissed the side of my face, following the tear tracks down my cheeks with his lips. When he raised his head he was smiling gently, his eyes warm.

  “Is this what you want, Stella? Is it really what you want?”

  He stood up, still looking into my eyes. “I’m going to run downstairs and pour us both another glass of wine. I’ll give you a few minutes to think.”

  He left me and for a moment I gave way to an overwhelming surge of grief and loneliness, crying silently into the pillow so no one would hear. How could he do this to me? How could he see through my skin and know me like that? How dare he force me to put my feelings into words when he already knew how I felt?

  I sat up, brushed the tears away and made myself think. I thought of the panic I’d felt when he’d been shot, the panic that rose beyond normal concern for a partner and became an aching pain in my chest. I thought about the way he’d loved me in my dream or not-dream, without concern for his own satisfaction, only mine. I thought of the way he loved my aunt, with genuine respect and emotion, without expectation of reward or even acknowledgment. I thought of the pain and self-blame I’d seen in his eyes over my uncle’s death. Jake was no longer the bad boy from high school. He had become the man I’d only seen beginning all those years ago.

  And he was right. I ran from all pain, real or potential. I’d started when my parents died and I was still running. Jake wasn’t trying to stop that. He was merely trying to offer a respite. He wanted to love me, without strings, without promises that might not ever be fulfilled. He wanted to pull me away from the past and into the moment. Jake wanted me to feel right now, without worrying about the future. “Love as if your heart has never been broken.” Wasn’t that how the saying went?

  I sat there, turning the idea over and over in my head, feeling my heart lightening with each passing moment.

  I heard him returning, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he drew closer and came to a halt in front of the door. As I watched, the door slowly swung open, and he stood on the threshold, holding two glasses of my aunt’s Chianti.

  His eyes searched my face for a sign. A small smile grew as he walked toward me.

  “So,” he said softly, “have you made up your mind?”

  I looked up at him and smiled, felt my heart swell and something deep inside me give way.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 15

  Jake set the wineglasses down on the nightstand and reached deep into his jacket pockets. He pulled out two candles that I recognized from the living room and a pack of matches. He turned back to me, still smiling.

  “Stella, do you trust me?” he said.

  I nodded.

  “Enough to turn your body over to me and not worry that I will hurt you?”

  A quiver of anticipation ran the length of my body. “Of course.”

  His eyes darkened. “Good, because this is about you.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” I said. “Not this time.” But when I reached for him, he gripped both my wrists in one strong hand and pushed me back onto the bed.

  “Especially this time,” he whispered, and pulled a short length of rope from his jacket.

  “Where did you…?”

  Jake smiled. “I’m a guy, Stella. I have a truck and a tool-box. What man wouldn’t have a little rope lying around.”

  With a deft move he tied my wrists together, brought them up over my head and secured them to the bedpost behind me.

  “Stella,” he said, rocking back to look down at me. “If at any point you want me to stop what I’m doing, just say so. Okay? I’m not going to hurt you. I’m only going to make sure you can’t distract me.” He grinned when I nodded. “I know how you like to take the spotlight off yourself, but I want you to feel every bit of pleasure I can give you.”

  He stood up, crossed the room and locked the door. My stomach tightened and I felt a swell of desire flood my body. He walked back to the bedside, took a sip of his wine and lit the two candles. When he’d done this, he turned out the light, leaving only the circle of our bed framed by the dim orange glow of the flickering candles.

  He stood up beside the bed and began to slowly remove his clothes. I watched, fascinated, enjoying the slow seduction of his movements. First the jacket, then the shirt. The firm muscles of his chest rippled as he moved to unfasten the buttons of his jeans. His eyes never left mine. He pulled his pants and boxers down in one fluid movement, leaving me to stare openly at his erection. His body was beautiful and he didn’t try to hide it from me. He stood there easily, letting me look, letting me grow more and more aroused.

  “Well,” I said softly. “Guess you’ll have to untie my hands if you want to go further. You tied me up before you could…”

  He turned, reached into his pocket and stopped any more conversation. The soft snap of his pocketknife opening froze any further response in my throat.

  “Um, what are…”

  Jake stood over me, his eyes black pools in the candlelight.

  “Do you trust me?” he whispered again.

  I looked at him, wished I could reach for him, and found myself nodding. I did trust him, completely.

  He straddled my hips, laid the knife down by my side and pushed my sweatshirt and turtleneck up over my head until they rested near my wrists. I lay before him wearing Nina’s lingerie choice, a black padded bra.

  Jake smiled, leaned forward and kissed the side of my neck, running his tongue in a shivery trail of fire down the side of my neck. I moaned as my body began to ache and throb for him.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  He leaned back, taunting me with his smile. “Oh, I don’t think so,” he murmured. “I’m just getting started.”

  He picked up the knife, slid the blade between my shoulder and my bra strap, and with a deft move cut the thin ribbon of material. I gasped, helpless to stop him as he moved the blade to slice the filmy fabric away, exposing my breasts to his inspection.

  He tossed the knife onto the bedside table and smiled. “Mission accomplished.”

  He slid back, brought his tongue to my breasts, and gently ran it around my nipples. I arched into him, pulled my knees up, and tried to push him toward me, and he stopped.

  “Do I have to tie your legs, too?” he asked. “Maybe I do.”

  I moaned, frustrated, and watched as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down and off. He used the thick fabric against me, tying one leg and securing it to the bed frame. He used his shirt to tie the other leg, trapping me and exposing me to him at the same time.

  “My, my,” he whispered, sitting back to study the newly revealed parts of my body. “What lovely panties. Nina buy those for you, too?”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  He reached across to the bedside table, picked up the knife and slit the sides of my thong. With a slight tug, the material was gone and I was completely naked before him.

  “I’m cold,” I said, shivering.

  “No, you’re not. You’re vulnerable. You’re exposed and wondering what will come next, but you are most certainly not cold.”

  He reached for his wineglass, took a large sip and leaned down to kiss me. The Chianti flowing from his mouth to mine felt like fire as it traveled the length of my throat and warmed my chest.

  His tongue began to explore my body, sliding its way slowly down my torso, and I lost track of conscious thought. All I wanted was more.

  He teased. He played. He brought me to the edge of screaming desire and then backed off. When he reached my hips, he stopped, parted my legs, and sat studying my body as no man had ever done before.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Please,” I moaned. “Please make love to me. I want you inside me.”

  He met my gaze, one finger gently stroking the outside mound, gently dipping deeper and deeper into what seemed to me to be a bottomless well of desire and longing.

  “Oh, I will make love to you, all right, all in good time,”
he answered, and lowered his head.

  I bit down hard on my lip, tried not to scream, and felt myself coming closer and closer to a shattering climax. But just before I plummeted over the edge, he stopped, easing me back and building me up, over and over again, until I strained at the ropes in my desperation to make him let me finish.

  He stood at one point and pulled my jeans away from my legs, freeing me to move as he slid between them and hovered above me.

  “Untie my hands,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with the attempts I’d made not to scream.

  “No,” he said, and plunged deep inside me with a sudden ferocity that brought me up off the bed to join my body with his.

  Every sensation, every frustration and stimulated nerve ending came together in an explosion of pleasure. I heard myself call his name, felt his hand over my lips, and rode the crest of my orgasm until I felt his own rocket deep inside me.

  We went on, moving together as one, building slowly to another fiery release. He held me to him, his eyes never leaving my own as he insisted I stay with him. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide the passion that overtook me, and willingly gave him all of it, opening myself to him as I had never done with anyone.

  When at last we were both spent, he untied my arms, cradled me to his chest, stroked my hair and whispered my name over and over again until I fell asleep. When I awoke, he was still there, his arms wrapped around me, the gray light of departing dawn driving the shadows from the room as he slowly moved to take me again.

  Reality came all too quickly to claim us.

  Chapter 16

  The shrill, insistent ringing of Jake’s cell phone brought what might have been a long lazy lovemaking session to a grinding halt. I saw him hesitate, his lips lingering over my breasts, trying to refocus.

  “Get it,” I whispered. “What if it’s important?”

  “They’ll call back,” he murmured, his tongue tracing a fiery circle around my right nipple.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be here.” I pushed him gently and felt him sigh as he got up to answer the call.

  It worked for me. I got to watch him move in the early-morning light; studied his body from head to toe, savoring his easy, pantherlike stride toward the dresser. He knew I was watching. He turned and grinned as he flipped open the phone, his hand slowly running the length of his torso, circling his erection and resting there as he said, “Hello?”

  His expression changed from taunting playfulness to wary attention in an instant.

  “I’m afraid we’ve come to a dead end,” I heard him say.

  I sat up, pulling the sheet around my breasts, and listened.

  “That’s right. We thought we were close but it turns out the man we were looking for isn’t your brother. There’s really nothing more we can do for you. I’ll have my assistant return the unused portion of your retainer to you in today’s mail.”

  I couldn’t hear what Tonya May was saying, the words were indistinct, but the tone left no doubt as to her displeasure. She spoke for several moments while Jake turned away from me and stared out the window toward the ocean.

  “I hear what you’re saying,” he said at last, “but there’s really nothing more we can do for you.” Then, “Right. I know,” and, “I thought so, too, but we were wrong.”

  Tonya protested, Jake held firm, and in the end clicked the phone shut while she was still talking.

  “She sounds pissed,” I said.

  “That would be an understatement. She thinks we’ve found him. She smells something but was too smart to say so.”

  The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees in the room. “So what do you think she’ll do next?”

  Jake shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past her to come down here.”

  “Come down here? As in come here to the house?”

  Jake nodded wearily. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll probably be gone before she can reach us, and if we’re not, I’ll send her packing.”

  Oh, right, like I couldn’t handle her, I thought, slightly irritated by his tone. What, did he think because we’d slept together I was suddenly unable to protect myself and my family?

  I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I was imagining things. Jake wasn’t like that, was he?

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted under the door. The sounds of Aunt Lucy’s breakfast preparations echoed faintly in the bedroom, and the thoughts of making love with her right below me dimmed my ardor for Jake considerably.

  As if he sensed my mood, Jake stepped into sweatpants and threw on his flannel shirt.

  “I’ll bring you some coffee,” he said.

  “Good idea.” I didn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t want to know what he was feeling about us, not right now.

  The moment after he walked out the door I was up and down the hallway to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, turned on the shower, and when it was ready, stepped in to lose myself in the hypnotic rhythm of the spray drumming across my shoulders.

  Ten minutes later I stepped out, once again in control of my emotions, and found my coffee cooling on the countertop. How had he come and gone without me hearing him? Unlocking the door would have been easy, but to actually enter the room and leave the coffee without me hearing him? I shrugged, picked up the mug and took a cautious sip. Still hot. I toweled off and made a mental to-do list for the day.

  Jake thought we should go home. I thought we should address the Joey Smack problem first. But how best to approach that?

  I was no closer to an answer by the time I’d finished dressing and started downstairs. I was back to my sensible clothes, having found them clean and folded on my bed, courtesy of Nina.

  I shivered as images from the night before flashed through my head in a slide show of increasing intensity. I wanted more and I also wanted to run away. How was I going to face him at breakfast with the others all sitting there? How were we going to make a plan and not have the heat of last night there between us?

  I bit down on my lip, stepped into the living room and slowly walked the length of the room to the kitchen. Spike, Nina and Aunt Lucy all looked up when I appeared in the doorway, but Jake was nowhere to be seen.

  Nina looked up at me and gave me one of her I’ve-got-a-secret smiles. “Jake left. He said he was going up to the diner. Are we really going home today?”

  Aunt Lucy set her lips in a grim line and shook her head. “Well, I for one can’t go. My car’s not ready. The shop called and said it won’t be good to go before tomorrow morning and we still have the loaner to return. Who’s going to take care of that?”

  I started to answer her, but she went on. “And I am right in the middle of the most delicate phase of my cream development. If I move it, the entire process may go ka-flooie. You can leave if you want, but I’m not going before tomorrow.”

  I saw the determined glint in her eyes and knew better than to try taking her on. If she said tomorrow, then tomorrow it would be. It’s not as if we had anything but aggravation waiting for us at home. Why rush? We certainly didn’t have a case to work on—not when our “client” was probably an assassin and our “missing person” her next victim.

  “I’m with you,” I said. “I’m fine to go tomorrow.”

  “Maybe Jake can get some fishing in,” Spike said.

  I didn’t say anything. We needed to make sure Joey Smack didn’t become more of an interference, and keep a weather eye out for Tonya May. I doubted there’d be time for surf fishing.

  Nina sighed. “You know, we came here for a reason,” she said. “And we haven’t accomplished our goal. Today might just be our only time to do that. We need to do our team-building exercises. We need to know where we’re going from here as an agency. Don’t you think we need that, Stel?”

  She looked like a Labrador retriever puppy, her huge eyes wide pools of pleading excitement, her face open and expectant, completely hopeful. How was I supposed to turn that down? Who was I to bring such disappointment down on her head?

  “You�
��re right, Nina. It’s the one thing we haven’t done, and when Jake gets back, that’s just what we’ll do.” I stood up, coffee cup in hand and said, “I think I’m going to walk down to the beach for a minute.” I saw Nina’s eyes narrow suspiciously and added, “I just need to clear my head. I want to be totally open to the process.”

  Nina relaxed against the back of her chair and smiled. “Totally,” she said.

  Aunt Lucy shook her head and muttered something in Italian. From the sounds of it, she wasn’t buying anything we were selling.

  I found my coat, pulled it on and reached in my pocket for my gloves. My Glock rested securely in my right pocket and I found myself patting it gently as I started down the steps to the front yard.

  A glint of light caught my eye. I glanced out toward the public parking lot at the end of the street and saw one lone car parked in the space closest to the street. Had I seen something or was it merely the reflection of the car’s chrome bumper? My fingers closed around my gun as I walked toward the lot. Possibilities ran through my head as my cop brain took over and I began to run on protective instinct.

  Could be Sheila Martin didn’t trust us to leave well enough alone and was having the house watched to prevent interference. Could be Joey Smack had sent another team to Surfside Isle in hopes of retrieving something we didn’t have. Could be a harmless bird-watcher out for her morning stroll. Could be anything, but I wasn’t taking chances.

  I played the possible scenarios over and over in my head. What would I do if someone came at me? What if there was more than one? What if they had guns? Where was my protective cover? If I was two-thirds of the way down the street, I could jump behind the garage of the pink house on my right. If I was within close range, I could duck behind the light post and shoot.

  I felt my jacket pockets for a reserve cartridge and found one in my left inside pocket. Good. I walked, apparently ignoring the car, keeping a careful eye out for any signs of movement.

  “False alarm, false alarm,” the denial fairy sang as I got within fifty feet of the vehicle.

 

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