by Nikki Sex
"Jack," she said turning toward her partner. "I did warn you."
Cohen smiled at Kurt and her eyes were kind and understanding. What was this? he wondered, momentarily put utterly off his stride. Good cop, bad cop?
"We believe that Carmen Wilson will call you, Mr. Nielsen," Cohen said.
"Why do you think that?" Kurt asked.
"For money or some sort of assistance," Agent Cohen said. "We need you to help us find her."
Just then Kurt's phone rang. "Can you put it on speaker?" Cohen asked.
Kurt sighed, sat back down at his desk, and did so. "Hello?"
"Is this Kurt Nielsen?"
"Carmen?"
"That's right."
"Carmen Juanita Wilson?"
The sound of brittle laughter came over the line. Kurt thought Carmen seemed a bit hysterical.
"You know my name," Carmen said. "Now why is it that I am not surprised? Let me see, how…? Ah ha! You got that Sprite can fingerprinted didn't you? Of course you did." And then her voice took on a tone of disgust, "Rich people! I swear to God that they work by a different set of rules than the rest of us. Man, don't even get me started on that subject. Rich people commit the exact same crimes, or even worse ones, but only poor people go to jail."
There was a long pause where neither said anything. Kurt could hear background noise, car traffic and street sounds. Where was she?
Carmen cleared her throat. "So Kurt, you think you know everything now I suppose. Fine. You wrote on your note to me, and I quote: "Call me anytime. If there is anything I can do to help you I swear to God that I will drop everything and do just that." Does that still hold true?"
Kurt frowned and thought about it long enough that there was a long pause in their conversation.
"Hello, Kurt? Are you still there? Speak to me."
"Carmen," Kurt said. "There are Federal Agents after you." That was all the warning he felt he was able to give her. Would she understand that they were standing right here at his side?
"From which agency?" she asked without a pause.
"The DEA."
"Huh," Carmen said and the tone of her voice radiated uncertainty. She was apparently baffled by this news. "Did they say why?"
"You don’t know?" Kurt asked, shifting back in his leather chair. The loud squeak of it probably could be heard through the phone line, despite the traffic noises around her.
"No, Kurt, I don’t know," Carmen said. "I guess that seems odd, but I honestly have no idea. Unless my drop-kick brother has dragged me into some of his fucking shit again somehow. I suppose that could be the case. Are you going to help me or not? Because right now I could use some help. Or have you changed your mind?"
"Carmen," Kurt said, "did you steal three thousand dollars from your last boyfriend?"
She gave a long sigh, followed by an even longer silence. "I had good reason, Kurt."
"And you spent time in Juvenile Detention for a hit and run felony?" he asked. "Not to mention drug trafficking, receiving stolen goods and so many other things."
Unexpectedly, Carmen laughed in dark sardonic glee over these stern pronouncements. "Rich people! I swear! Is there anything they can't get their hands on? So Kurt, you got into my under-eighteen police record. Congratulations! Good for you!" Her tone was acid. "Those are supposed to be sealed."
"I would rather know," he growled.
"Is that right? You think that's your privilege, do you? That you should be allowed to have access to things that other people are denied? I suppose that because you have money you have a right to know? I guess you figure that the rules don’t apply to you because you're rich?" she said, her voice sharp with sarcasm.
Irritated he snapped back, "I needed facts, Carmen."
"Facts!" she burst out in an unexpected peal of giggling. "Oh Kurt, now you really are making me laugh," her voice was high-pitched and almost hysterical for a moment there. Disturbed, Kurt sat back in his chair and it made that distinctive sound again.
"Oh well, as long as you have the facts," Carmen added, the last word stressed mockingly.
"There is nothing wrong with knowing specifics," he said in a carefully neutral voice.
"Well then, I suppose you think you know me now, Kurt?" she said with biting derision.
"I wanted to know everything about you from the first moment we met," Kurt said in a lowered voice. "I liked you that much, Carmen. So what? Sue me for overwhelming interest, okay? Anyway, don't you think I have a right to know whether I might be breaking the law by helping you?"
"You got me there," she said. "I really liked you too, Kurt. So I looked you up, too – in a more legal manner of course, but to be fair, I am flat broke. At this point I feel compelled to say Kurt, that those are some big words coming from a woman-beating asshole who drives his ex girlfriends to attempt suicide. Not to mention someone who can't get a woman due to said abuse, and so has to pay for the services of sex workers. I don't think you should talk so high-handedly Mr. "I Commit Violence Against Women."
"None of that is true!"
"Ha. Really? Well, now why should I believe that?"
Kurt frowned then and realized that Carmen had a really good point.
Currently it seemed that all of New York blamed him for Laura's nervous breakdown and consequent suicide attempt. Why would Carmen think any differently?
14. "Truth"
"It's in all the newspapers," Carmen said. "So it must be factual. You think I'm a drug pushing, hit-and-run thief, after all. Maybe we deserve each other."
Kurt remained silent because he really had nothing to say. Was Carmen trying to tell him that she had never been a drug dealer? But if so why were the DEA here?
"Look, I get it Kurt," Carmen said more softly. "You want the truth? I rather think we could enjoy a long philosophic discussion about that. Is it true just because everyone believes it? If so, you’re a woman beater. Wasn't it Churchill that said that a lie get's half way around the world before truth even has a chance to put its pants on?
Kurt laughed. "I've never heard that one."
Carmen chuckled too, and this time her pleasure was genuine. Kurt's heart swelled to hear the sweetness of the bubbly sound of her laughter. They had both laughed so much during sex. Kurt could still feel the uninhibited, physical and emotional joy of it.
"Kurt, did you think just for one moment that maybe the shit you read about me wasn’t true?" Carmen asked. "Did you think of that?"
Kurt sighed. "Sorry, Carmen, but no."
"Ah well, at least you're honest. Still… thanks for nothing."
"Tell me why the DEA is after you."
"I can't think…" she said and then there was a long pause. Kurt could hear a street vendor in the background and wondered what part of the city she was in. "Unless…" she said, "but if that was the case…" silence.
"Carmen?"
"Jesus, Kurt, I honestly don't know, but I do know that the DEA didn't have any idea where I was until you ran my prints. Thanks a lot buddy. Because of you I'm in a real tight spot, and quite honestly I need money. I figure you owe me."
"I owe you?" he snapped with exasperation. "Why?"
"Let's forget the fact that you ran my prints and made the DEA catch up to me. Let's forget that I lost my job and had to buy another fake social security number. How about you simply pay me for sexual services rendered?"
Kurt stared at agent Huber with narrowed eyes, daring him to even raise an eyebrow. "I gave you three hundred odd dollars already," he said.
Huber managed to keep a neutral expression for a moment, but then looked away from Kurt's fierce glare.
"That was reparation for making me lose my job as I recall," Carmen said. "Look Kurt, quit screwing around will you? I need help, and I don’t have a soul in the world I can turn to. Do you think I would have called you if I did? For the sake of the fact we had really good sex together, and for at least an hour or two we both actually felt something for each other - do you suppose you could cut me some slack?<
br />
"How much do you need?"
"Three thousand would be good, five thousand would be better."
"What did you do with the three thousand that you stole from your last boyfriend?"
There was a long, long silence and an even longer sigh.
"I have been on the run for four months and running costs money. Money that it's difficult to make because I can't always stay in one place to work. It's not like I'm on some sort of girl scout summer vacation, alright? If we meet and you help me I swear to God I'll tell you everything – if you really want to know. I'm warning you though, it's a long story. How about that? Is that a deal? I need a good lawyer, I've picked one out. She is pretty pricy, but sometimes you just have to get the best."
"You want to pay for a lawyer with the money?"
"That's the plan."
"I see," Kurt said, wondering if Carmen was about to do a long stint in jail. The thought of that possibility actually caused an almost physical ache in his chest. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to hold her again.
And, he thought as his cock twitched to life, I really, really want to fuck her again.
"You know what, Kurt?" Carmen said. "I am honestly at the end of my rope here. I'm out of options and seriously tired of fielding all this shit. I can't afford to piss you off, because right now you are my only friend – well, my only friend with money anyway. So I'll cut you some slack first, okay?"
"Okaaay," he said, drawing the word out and wondering what she planned.
"I didn't for one minute believe that you are a woman beater," she said, "not for one instant. My ex boyfriend was a woman beater, and I know what an asshole like that is like, alright? You are not like that. This isn’t a guess. This is something I know."
A pressure in his chest loosened, a tightness he hadn't even aware of until then. Kurt couldn't express how happy this pronouncement made him. "Thank you," he said.
"Not only that," Carmen said. "I think your ex-girlfriend attempted suicide from remorse after taking you to court and lying just so she could get your money. The woman is having trouble with her conscience. Suicide always seems such a good idea when someone can't face reality or is heartily ashamed of themselves. That's what I honestly think. There, does that make you happy?"
"Yes, actually, it does."
"Good," she said. "Now tell me this. I suppose you don’t have much experience with criminals, but honestly, do I seem the criminal type to you?"
Kurt was silent for a moment, but had to reply, "Not in the least."
"Thank you! We had good sex together, Kurt. Intimate, honest, no holds barred sex. We had fun! I liked you, Kurt, we liked each other. Do you think you go for the criminal type?"
"No."
"Good," she said, and then in a soft voice added, "I wanted to see you again."
"I've missed you, too." Kurt looked up, prepared to stare down Agent Huber once more, but he appeared to be studying some building plans on the other desk. "You knocked me on my ass – in a good way, Carmen. I can't stop thinking about you," he added in a lowered voice.
There was a long silence and again Kurt was treated to the sounds of traffic.
"Wow," Carmen said. "That's really nice to hear Kurt, because I've been feeling same way. I didn't contact you before now because I didn’t want to involve you in all my shit, okay? Was I ashamed for finding out that you assumed that I was a prostitute? Absolutely. I was even more humiliated for acting like one, but hey, that small inconsequential embarrassment is nothing compared to the deep shit I'm facing now."
"I see."
Exhaling in a loud breath, she said, "You know what? I don’t think you do. I almost called you a thousand times, Kurt, just to hear your voice. It's crazy, it's completely nuts, but I'm a little smitten. Oh what the hell, let's be honest - I'm totally smitten, but don't be too flattered. My judgment has always been rather questionable around men, starting with my traitorous, self-centered, fucked up brother who, for some weird reason, I still stupidly care about. But for what it's worth, you are in my thoughts all the time."
"I…" he paused and found both DEA agents looking at him. He spun his leather swivel chair around, giving them his back. "I was smitten, too, Carmen. You must have known that. I told you at the time how I felt, and I felt like that even when I thought you were a call girl."
Giggling Carmen said, "That's pretty funny."
Kurt gave a snort of laughter, too. "This whole situation is pretty well beyond ridiculous."
"Now that's the true story of my life," Carmen said in a cheeky tone. "Alright then, this is the deal. Think about it Kurt. You have all night to decide if you want to get involved. I'm going to be at the place we first met tomorrow at noon. If you are not there then we are done, and I'll understand – kind of. I'll think you're a chicken shit who won’t take a risk, of course, and someone who promises to help only as long as it is convenient or something. But that's okay. I'll let you off the hook and I swear I won't call you anymore."
"I don’t have to think about it, Carmen. I'd risk a lot just to see you again. I'll be there," he assured her.
She laughed, and again Kurt felt lighthearted joy at the musical sound of her laughter.
"Oh, by the way DEA officers," Carmen said. "I'm throwing this phone out now. I know they are there with you, Kurt. They might trace this call, but I'll be long gone."
Click.
Kurt hit end on his cell and when he saw the expression of confusion and surprise on the DEA Officer's faces, he began to laugh. How had she put that together? His Carmen was no dummy, was she? Cunning, clever girl.
That bastard Huber looked really pissed. The furious expression on the man's face was priceless. Kurt cracked up and he didn't stop laughing until his stomach hurt.
15. Together
In the cheapest suite in the Ritz-Carlton, Carmen arrived before noon, still dressed in her hot pink track suit. She showered and put on a blue silk bathrobe while she waited.
It was early afternoon, and a sunny yet cool day. Light glowed through her room windows which faced west. The noise of traffic and people could be heard despite soundproof windows. Manhattan was a teeming mass of humanity, and as she was only on the fourth floor, there was no avoiding the noise. After spending months in the quiet solitude of her basement cage, she actually liked it.
Carmen was edgy and eager. The thought of seeing Kurt again was just too overwhelmingly exciting. Consequently she had masturbated three times to climax because it was the ultimate solve-all tonic for situations like this.
Horny? Frightened? Nervous? Can't sleep? Masturbate! That was her motto. It always made her feel better. Unfortunately her orgasms had only made her hornier.
Carmen felt girlish and giddy with anticipation. The thought of having sex with Kurt again was hotter and more stimulating to her senses than having a clitoral, vaginal and anal vibrator all in place and set on high.
Would Kurt come? Or would the DEA?
Carmen was a no-show for the rendezvous, of course. Instead she had a maid friend, Maria, get him alone and drop him a note. Her pal was a grandmother, sweet and clever – but her friend, like many intelligent women in such positions, could easily play dumb. There was no question that Maria would get to Kurt without anyone being the wiser.
Carmen's written message asked Kurt to drive around and hopefully lose any tails, then return to the Ritz. The note also gave him her room number.
The wall clock informed her that it was 2pm.
Carmen heard a firm confident knock on the door to her suite. In her heart of hearts she recognized that knock.
Not the DEA.
Carmen knew that it had to be Kurt.
She flung open the door and he was standing there – beautiful 'Thor the God of Thunderous Orgasms' that he was. He was dressed in well worn blue jeans with a faded black T-shirt. It had Dr. Who's Tardis on it and the words: "Keep calm and don't blink." How appropriate.
In his right hand he held a briefcase.
Th
e instant he saw her, a huge smile lit up his entire face and his emerald green eyes drank her in.
¡Ay carumba! she thought, instantly weak kneed, light headed and utterly intoxicated. That smile! Those damn dimples! Could any woman resist him?
It was as if she had seen him just yesterday, he was that comfortable and familiar. How could that be? Except that Kurt had never left her thoughts for long. It was like she had never been gone in the first place. Why had she run away?
The pleasure at seeing Kurt's tall commanding frame could not be described. Carmen felt thrilled from top to toe and a wave of relief flowed through her. Safe. It was as if now that Kurt was with her she didn’t have to worry about anything anymore – that was how he made her feel.
Oh, he is here, the thought echoed idiotically inside her mind. He came for me.
For so long Carmen had been tilted off her axis, off balance - drifting, isolated, and alone. Somehow just seeing Kurt with his dominant male body and powerful confidence grounded and centered her.
The way he gazed at her hit her like a physical blow. It was so carnal and sexy that Carmen's stomach twisted and her pussy clenched and gushed from where she was naked under her bathrobe. Her arousal was dripping, she could smell it. There wasn't a thing in the world she felt she wouldn’t do for this total stranger, and how crazy was that?
Without taking his eyes off her, Kurt stepped into the room, shut the door and threw his briefcase down. Then they lunged into one another, both falling into each other's arms, Carmen wrapping herself around him.
The feel of his solid male frame hard against her sent her head into a tailspin of emotion and sensation. Carmen's body was alive with lust and desire. She was supercharged with electric excitement, yet perversely she also felt subdued by his powerful male energy - totally awed and enthralled. One of Kurt's arms banded tight around her hips while the other gripped the hair on the back of her head, tilting her head back and capturing her against him.
Kurt sealed his lips against hers, and Carmen opened her mouth. His tongue plundered her mouth licking shallow and fast, setting her alight. Carmen moaned with the rapture of it, utterly lost to the magic of his kiss.