Jaq paused, thinking. When they’d started, she hadn’t intended to go in this direction, but Bronwyn’s body was telling her she was ready. “Let me put it this way,” Jaq said softly. “When I was inside you just now, did you want more?”
Bronwyn nodded. “I wanted everything.”
Jaq traced her lower lip with her thumb. “Do you trust me?”
Bronwyn nodded, both of them aware they were moving past the point of intimacy into surrender.
She pulled her clit into her mouth, circling it with her tongue, giving it to her exactly the way she wanted it until she saw Bronwyn’s arms flex against the ropes. Jaq slid two fingers into her and stroked inside, her G spot already tense and swollen under her fingers. She touched it softly, then with more intensity, listening to every breath, and adding a third when a soft moan told her it was time. She turned her fingers slowly inside Bronwyn, pushing deeper until the base of her fingers met resistance.
“God, baby,” Bronwyn whispered, “That feels…”
Her voice trailed off as Jaq slid her fourth finger inside. Bronwyn’s breath caught and her body tightened around her hand. Jaq stopped, holding her fingers inside her, letting her get used to the sensation. She brought her mouth to Bronwyn’s clit again, using deep, rich strokes with the flat of her tongue, giving her everything she wanted, dipping lower and licking where her fingers met Bronwyn’s body, tasting and soothing her, feeling her slowly relax around her fingers.
Jaq met Bronwyn’s eyes as she went back and slid her swollen clit under her tongue. Bronwyn arched against the ropes as her excitement built, groaning when Jaq moved at the last second, working the skin of her inner thighs, pulling it into her mouth to remind Bronwyn what she could be doing elsewhere.
“I can’t take this, you’ve got to let me come,” Bronwyn said, her breath quick and desperate.
“You don’t want me to stop, baby,” Jaq said, smiling, her other hand moving across Bronwyn’s stomach to rest between her breasts. “Trust me.”
Jaq turned her fingers again, slowly, and went back to her clit with her tongue, stroking the underside before she pulled it gently back into her mouth. Bronwyn was panting now, straining at the ropes, and wetter than Jaq had ever seen her.
“Can you take more, baby?”
Jaq covered her clit with her tongue, waiting until she heard the yes between Bronwyn’s moans to continue. Jaq pressed her hand slowly deeper. Bronwyn was breathless, words a whisper, her body stone still. Jaq moved down to drag her tongue again around the edge of her hand as she slowly curled the fingers inside her toward her palm and tucked her thumb into the center. She didn’t move, just looked up at Bronwyn and whispered. Bronwyn answered before the words were out of Jaq’s mouth.
“God, yes. Now.”
Jaq slid the rest of the way inside her, filling her slow enough to let her feel every inch of her fist. Bronwyn arched and tensed, the words balancing on her lips, as light as air.
Then she opened for Jaq. And when she did, she fell into an orgasm so dark and rich and endless tears slid from her eyes when the end she thought didn’t exist finally came. Jaq stayed inside her, then raised her eyes to Bronwyn’s, dense love shimmering in the air between them.
Finally, she laid her palm warm on Bronwyn’s stomach. “Take a deep breath, baby.”
Bronwyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then as she let it out Jaq slowly relaxed her hand, moving back up her body to untie the ropes around her wrists. When she had them off, she laid back and pulled Bronwyn into her arms, holding her against her heart.
“Jaq,” Bronwyn whispered, her mouth warm at Jaq’s ear. “How did you do that?”
Jaq pulled her closer. “I didn’t, Bella. You trusted me and we did it together.”
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Jaq went into work early, and Bronwyn met her there late that afternoon. She’d already showered and dressed for her date with Ian; it was surreal to think about seeing him again. Being with him seemed like it happened in another lifetime, although once she thought about it, that was more accurate than not.
She arrived at Terry’s office right on time, and he made a call to a department he referred to as “the tech guys.” They came up to the office and explained how the wire transference system would work. Jaq joined just as they started.
“It’s Bronwyn, right?” One of the two techs looked up at her and smiled as she handed him her phone.
“It is.”
“Okay, Bronwyn,” he said, plugging her phone into his laptop and pulling up what he needed on the screen. “We’re sending you in with a virtual wire, not a wire that’s physically attached to you. I’m installing an app that will run in the background on your phone but can’t be seen. It will send audio and video to the Phantom in real time.”
“The Phantom?”
Bronwyn looked over at Terry, who was distracted by a cigarette that had somehow jumped into his hand from his drawer. Bronwyn raised an eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes and put it back. “The Phantom is a hardware box that talks to the iPhone and decodes it.”
He looked up at Jaq, Bronwyn, and Terry, clearly proud of the technology, only to find not one of them had understood what he’d said.
“So,” Jaq said, “She just has to have her phone on her? And even if Ian looks at it he won’t know the app is running?”
“Exactly. And the recording is not actually on the phone at all. It’s off-site in the Phantom so it can’t be destroyed even if he did figure it out.”
The tech reached toward Bronwyn and took her glasses off her face. “I’m also going to attach a tiny microphone to the earpiece of her glasses, just as a backup. This one is visible, although you’d have to look super close to see it, so just try to make sure your hair hides it.”
He gave the glasses back to Bronwyn and pointed out the microphone. It looked like a black tic tac stuck onto the side of her frame toward her ear.
“This one transmits remotely as well?” Jaq asked.
“It does, but the sound quality is poor compared to the Phantom setup, so it’s only there as a backup.”
Terry thanked the tech department as they left, and looked at his watch. “It’s almost six now, so let’s go over what we need to get on tape before you drive over there. We already have our surveillance vehicles in place, so all we have to do is get in once you’re there.”
“I’m driving there alone, right?”
“You are,” Terry said. “Everything needs to look as normal as possible, and that’s what you would ordinarily do. Just park wherever you parked when you lived there.”
For the next forty minutes, Jaq and Terry went over what they needed to get on tape, which turned out to be exactly what she’d expected. They needed him to take ownership of the drugs and money, and to admit his part in the distribution. Once they had that, she could leave, albeit very carefully.
“Just tell him you forgot something in the car and keep walking,” Terry said. “We’ll move in once you’re clear.”
Bronwyn took a deep breath and looked over at Jaq and Terry. “You two look like you’re being pushed off a cliff.” She laughed, sliding her glasses back onto her face. “I’ll be fine; stop worrying.”
But in reality, as she got into her car a few minutes later and started the drive to her house, she was gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. When she finally arrived and found parking on the street, the fact that she’d walk into her house and find Ian inside was suddenly very real. Too real. She paused at the door, then turned around and sat on the stoop, fighting a sudden wave of nausea. Her stomach turned over and just for a moment, she thought she was going to be sick.
****
“What the hell is she doing?”
Terry looked at his watch then back at the stoop, where Bronwyn sat with her head in her hands. They’d just gotten to the surveillance van and done tests to make sure the audio and visuals were running, but everything looked good. They had a good view of the
kitchen area and the hall, and they’d expected Bronwyn just to walk into the house.
Jaq kept her eyes on Bronwyn. “I have no idea.”
They watched as Bronwyn appeared to pull herself together and stood to face the door. She ran her hands through her hair and pushed her glasses up on her nose several times, something Jaq knew she did when she was upset and trying to settle herself. Then she turned the knob and walked into the house, shutting the door behind her.
As soon as she came in, Bronwyn smelled curry and heard Ian in the kitchen. He heard her shut the front door and came out to greet her as she hung her coat up in the hall.
“It’s good to see you, love.” He held her close for a moment, then held up a wooden spoon covered in curry. Bronwyn noticed he glanced at her hand to see if she was wearing her ring. “I don’t want to get this all over you, so let’s take this into the kitchen.”
It felt like any other fall evening when Bronwyn came home from work to find Ian already there, cooking or watching telly, but in another way, the house felt empty, a farce, almost haunted. As if the house itself was watching them from the darkened corners, silent and concerned, willing her to walk back out the door.
“Noodles or rice?”
Bronwyn shook her head clear of her thoughts. “What?”
“Do you want noodles or rice with your curry?” Ian had one box in each hand and held them up for her to see as she sat down and placed her phone on the table beside her.
“Either,” Bronwyn said, then tipped her head. “No, wait, noodles.”
Ian smiled and put the rice back in the cupboard. “You never could make up your mind when it came to starches.”
He put the pasta pot on to boil and handed Bronwyn a glass of wine, sitting down at the table across from her with a glass for himself. He brushed her fingers with his as he handed it to her. They were warm, and Bronwyn’s were icy, which he’d known before he did it.
She ran her hand through her hair and tried to relax back into her chair. She saw him looking at her clothes, his eyes slightly narrowed in thought or derision, it was impossible to tell. He took in the camel wool pants, black wool cardigan and the leather boots Jaq had given her, then the faded denim jacket she’d worn under the coat in the hall. She knew she looked different. She was different, now more of a reflection than a presentation. Ian put it together slowly, trying to keep it from settling into hard lines on his face as she watched, unflinching.
Bronwyn sipped her wine and set it back down on the table, the clink of the glass on the table an offering to the silence, instantly rejected.
“This is wonderful,” she said, clearing her throat. “What is it?”
“It’s that bottle from Sequoia Vineyards we put aside last year from our trip to Napa Valley,” Ian said. “I thought now was as good a time as any to open it.”
Ian looked over at Bronwyn, taking her in. “You look great,” he said. He hesitated then, as if he had decided not to say something, but then said it anyway. “Thank you for coming; it’s nice to be back in the house together.”
Bronwyn nodded. “It is. I felt bad that I ended things on the phone; I should have done it in person.”
Ian swirled the wine in his glass, his eyes on the table. “Bronwyn, I want you to know that I understand why you ended it. I didn’t take it as I should have at the time, but I deserved it. I was wrong to ever lose my temper like I did with you.” He traced a grain line in the wood tabletop with his thumb. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know this is my fault.”
Bronwyn sat, silent, as she watched Ian try to hide the tears in his eyes. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this was not it. He’d never apologized for hitting her, not once.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, Ian. And I did a lot to provoke you.” Bronwyn dropped her eyes as she said it. The words, and the fact that Ian believed them, made her physically sick.
Ian stood, rubbing his eyes just once with the heel of his hand. “Well, that’s not what this meal is about, anyway,” he said, trying to smile. “I just really wanted to have a chance to say goodbye properly. And that will be difficult to do without noodles, so let me get those into the water.”
Bronwyn smiled and picked up her wineglass.
“She’s not falling for this bullshit, is she?” Terry looked over at Jaq.
She kept her eyes on the monitor and didn’t answer.
Ian put the curry together as Bronwyn set the table. He drank most of the wine; Bronwyn was hesitant to drink much, in case something went wrong. Ian did seem to be in exceptionally good form, but then again, she’d made that mistake more than once. She finally put her cutlery on her plate and sat back in her chair.
“So how did you know I was staying in the lofts on Greycoat Street?”
Ian folded his napkin and set it next to his plate. “My assistant lives in the building. She remembered you from the office Christmas party.” He took a deep breath, and his face softened. “I hope it was okay to send your ring to you. I didn’t know when I’d see you next and I just wanted you to have it.”
“No, that was fine,” she said. “Thank you.”
Ian put his hand over Bronwyn’s across the table. “I just miss you, Bronwyn. I miss you every day.”
Bronwyn left her hand under his and looked over the table at Ian.
“It was more than just the temper,” she said. “I just felt like you were hiding something from me all the time. I never felt like you were honest with me.”
“Hiding what?” Ian said, surprised. “I swear, I never cheated on you. Not once.”
“I just never felt like we were really honest with each other. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“I understand,” Ian said. “You’re right. I just couldn’t face the possibility of losing you.”
“Then tell me.” Bronwyn looked over at him. “You can trust me, Ian, and if you’re finally honest, then we may have a chance.”
Ian got up from the table and took their plates to the sink, then turned around and ran his hands through his hair. “Would you really consider coming back to me?”
Bronwyn got up from the table and walked over to Ian. “Ian, if we can be honest about everything, we can try again.”
“What the hell is she doing?” Jaq paced the two or three steps it was possible to take in the crowded interior of the van. “I don’t want her anywhere near him.”
“I’m not sure,” Terry said, his eyes locked on the monitor. “But we’ve got to trust her. We have no other choice at this point.”
Ian dropped his face into his hands, rubbing his forehead. “I lost my job a year ago.”
Bronwyn was silent, willing him to go on.
“I didn’t want to tell you. I was afraid you’d leave me.”
“Why did they let you go?”
“I was moving some money through client accounts in some ways that weren’t exactly legal.”
“What?” Bronwyn said. “Like money laundering?”
“I just got mixed up in some stuff and had to do some favors,” Ian said. “I had it under control.”
“But they caught you?”
“Not really,” Ian said. “They couldn’t prove anything, but just the suspicion was enough to get me fired.”
“Is there anything else?” Bronwyn looked in his eyes. “Now is the time to tell me if there is.”
Ian reached out, pulled Bronwyn to his chest, and put his arms around her. He smoothed her hair with his hand and tipped her chin up to look at him.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He looked into her eyes, stroking her lips with his finger. “It really doesn’t matter since you won’t be leaving the house alive.”
Jaq lunged for the door of the van, pulling her gun.
“Jaq, stop!” Terry said, pulling her back. “We’ve got units surrounding that house. One word from us and they’ll be in there. She’s almost got it.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jaq leaned against the wall o
f the van, raking her hand through her hair. “He just threatened her life.”
“I know, but we haven’t seen a weapon yet, and if we go in there now, she will have done all this for nothing.” Terry looked up at Jaq. “I trust her.”
Jaq and Terry stared at the monitor, radio in hand, waiting.
Bronwyn looked up at Ian, suddenly afraid she was going to be sick. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you think I’d leave that much cocaine in the house without having the house monitored? I’ve had cameras on that storage closet for the last year. I saw you look through the crack in the door and make your little call to your girlfriend when I reviewed the footage the next day.”
Bronwyn was silent.
“What, she’s not your girlfriend?” Ian smiled. “My apologies, she must just be some dyke you’re fucking behind my back. Easy mistake.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Every drop of blood had drained from Bronwyn’s face.
“The only reason you’re still here right now is that your little friends lost interest and I was able to collect my belongings from the storage closet. So I thought I’d let you live long enough to have an opportunity to explain yourself, for entertainment’s sake if nothing else.”
Bronwyn held his eyes and said nothing. Ian smiled at her, his manner calm and solicitous as if he was speaking to a wayward child. He reached into the kitchen drawer beside him and pulled out a handgun.
“Perhaps this will jog your memory.”
He’d just clicked off the safety when the front door slammed open against the wall, and three agents ran as far as the kitchen doorframe, guns drawn. Jaq and Terry rounded the corner a few seconds later, guns trained on Ian, who had immediately pulled Bronwyn in front of him when he heard the front door open, gun to her head. He kept his eyes on Jaq as he reached across her chest and ripped every button off Bronwyn’s shirt in one motion, leaving it hanging open, still holding the gun to her temple.
“You came here wearing a fucking wire?”
His voice was still calm as he looked down at her chest, then over at her phone still lying on the table. He looked down at her and knocked the barrel of the gun lightly against her skull.
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