Climbing High (19 page)

“Now you’ve done it.” He jerked her skirt up to her waist, paused for an appreciative second as he registered the black silk thong that barely covered her mons. He grabbed the narrow strips that ran over her hips and pulled. “Step out,” he husked. His fingers found her swollen and wet. He massaged her clitoris with the finesse of a giving lover. She pushed against his hand, rotating her hips to get more. He slid two fingers into her. She came fast and hard. He pulled back to watch her, the muscles of his face taut with hunger, his beautiful mouth glistening with moisture from their kiss.

“Inside me. Inside me now.” She finally got him unbuttoned and unzipped and pushed his trousers down with his shorts. He frantically searched for a condom in his rapidly retreating pocket and rolled it over himself. He lifted her, found the wet, aching part of her unerringly, and filled it to their mutual satisfaction.

She closed her legs around his narrow hips and leaned her upper body against the cold steel of the elevator door. Her fingers nimbly released the buttons on his shirt and she stroked it away from his heaving chest.

“My turn.” He curved one arm under her bottom while his other hand flipped open the single button on her suit jacket, undid the tie on her crossover silk blouse and stroked her breasts encased in black lace. All the while he eased in and out of her tight sheath, pleasuring them both past rational thought.

She felt a second orgasm building. He caught one tight nipple between thumb and finger and squeezed, his mouth finding the sensitive cords where neck joined shoulder. “Yes, more.” She tightened around him. “Come with me.” She breathed her siren’s call into his ear.

He lifted his head to meet her eyes, glazed passion melding with heated intent. “Take me then.” He thrust to the core of her. They both cried out and tumbled over the edge together. Mouth to mouth, heart to heart, need to want.

“God, just God.” He struggled to get some air into his lungs, sank to his knees. Siree stifled a gasp as she rode him to the floor, her back still pressed to the elevator.

“Are you all right?” He searched her face, wondering if he’d been too rough. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m super, great, needed that beyond anything.” She lost the battle and cascades of laughter flowed from her kiss-stung mouth. “Can you imagine if Gribbs came up in the elevator?”

He felt the corner of his mouth lift in a wicked grin at the image of them falling backward onto his taciturn head of security if the doors had opened. “It would have been almost worth it to see his expression.”

Still riding his hips, Siree unlocked her legs and stretched them onto the floor behind him with a sigh of pleasure. “We look like a couple of drunks.” She wiggled, trying to straighten the skirt bunched around her waist, the blouse hanging to one side, and her brassiere covering only one breast.

“Then I can only say drunk and disorderly suits you.” He couldn’t stop his fingers from lifting to stroke the exposed breast. Her nipple beaded. She wiggled again. Where seconds before he thought he might collapse, he suddenly felt fully involved and capable. Jake junior was readying himself for more play.

Her mouth rounded as she felt him stiffening inside of her. “Already?” she questioned.

“Looks like abstinence brings out the best in me. Or you wiggle just the right way,” he teased. A wash of rose suffused her face, firing him with new energy. His blood drummed an urgent beat. “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded, rising to his feet with her impaled on his rampant penis. He grasped her firmly around the hips and carried her down the long hallway to the bed. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of her, so that her back met the bed like a feather settling down. “Be right back.”

They both groaned as he pulled out of her. He made it to the bathroom in record time, disposed of the condom and rushed back to get one from the bedside table.

She waved the small package at him, her smile languorous. He knelt and let her slide it on, then fell onto his side, turning her till they faced each other.

“I missed you.” She brushed the damp lock of hair back from his forehead.

Their lower bodies rocked together, pausing for seconds to push and pull clothing out of the way. They twisted and turned to accommodate each other’s need to expose more flesh, but always returned to the slow, smooth rhythm that bound them.

Siree arched. Another orgasm rolled through her, long and delicious. Her nails scraped lightly down his back, her teeth nibbled his bottom lip. She sighed, lifted her upper leg higher on his hip and watched him find release. He looked so beautiful, his cheekbones stretched tight, his eyes blind with his pleasure. They lay facing each other, letting their breathing and heart rates level out.

With a lingering kiss, he separated from her and rolled onto his back. Reaching to the bedside table for a box of tissue, he set it beside her.

“How does a shower, a soak in the hot tub, and dinner sound?” He smiled when she turned her back to clean herself up. She could change from a wildcat to a lady of modesty in seconds, and back again just as fast. He’d gotten used to the changes, loved them, but they always came out of left field and surprised him. She reminded him of an elegant Siamese, boneless in the sunshine, yet alert to everything happening around her. She pounced without warning, surprising him just as easily with a witty comment, or a full on tackle. He took great pleasure in her liveliness.

“It sounds like heaven.” She turned back, her husky tone and passion heavy eyes jolting him.

The shower turned into his idea of heaven, another of Siree’s surprises. She declared that he’d pleasured her three times while he’d only come twice, so she owed him one. She sank to her knees, eyes slumberous, plush mouth roving over his hips and thighs. When, wet and warm, she wrapped her mouth around him, Jake closed his eyes and flew first class to paradise.

****

Sweaty and breathing hard, Siree concluded she’d had a good workout. She’d climbed for two hours, waiting for Jake to get there. He’d planned to come with her, but called to say his VP of sales had collapsed at work. Jake had followed the ambulance to the hospital to wait for the family. He’d asked her to call Janice to go with her and promised to get there as soon as he could. She agreed, but when she couldn’t reach Janice, she called a cab and went to the gym alone.

Pumped from the climb, adrenaline still working through her system, she showered. Her cell phone rang. She scrambled to dig it out of her locker.

“I’m on my way now. We’re just a couple of minutes away.” Jake’s crisp voice informed. “Tell Janice she gets a bonus for filling in at the last second.”

Before Siree could explain she hadn’t found Janice, Jake cut the connection. She finished dressing and headed for the glassed in vestibule to wait for Jake’s limo. Anticipation sung through her veins. The night called to her, and the smell of sweat and cleaning chemicals in the small lobby didn’t hold the same appeal. She’d wait on the curb, she decided, stepping through the security door to the club. Early autumn crisped the air like a ripe BC apple. A brisk breeze tickled her nose, carrying the scent of wood smoke from a nearby chimney. Car tires made a shushing sound against the wet pavement. In the distance a tugboat sounded a deep-throated moan.

Picking up motion in her peripheral vision, she turned toward the narrow parking lot from which a woman emerged. Something about the emaciated body in the dark hoodie seemed familiar.

The woman moved fast, coming up on Siree before she could register danger.

“You’re not having him, bitch,” the ugly voice rasped out of the night. Siree tensed, recognizing the woman who had threatened her in the washroom at Bascall’s months ago.

She turned, reaching into her pocket for the club card that would open the door. Before she could slide it into the slot, the woman lunged at her, arm raised. Light, shining through glass, glinted on something bright and lethal in her hands. Siree swung up her arms to protect her face and cried out as the knife sliced through her forearm from elbow to wrist. She kicked out at the woman, aiming for the knee, but hitting her thigh instead. The woman staggered, uttering a high pitched curse. The knife rose and fell in a vicious arc. Siree scrabbled backward. The heel of her shoe caught on broken cement, throwing her off balance. The knife came in low, this time, slashing through her light suede jacket. It scraped across a rib. She grabbed the women’s arm, pushing back with all her strength.

“I’ll make sure he never touches your filthy body again, you whore,” the woman grated through clenched teeth. They were of similar height and Siree probably had ten pounds of muscle on her, but using Siree’s death grip on her arm for leverage, the woman dragged her toward the darkened parking lot. Siree fisted her hands and brought them down like a hammer on the woman’s arm. Breaking free, she turned to run. She slammed into the side of the building, her head striking the cement blocks. A grey mist rolled over her.

She raised her arms in a defensive move, shook her head to clear her vision. But now it seemed two women came at her, knives low, driving up toward her heart. She grabbed at an arm, trying to stop the forward movement, but the woman had maniacal strength. Blood poured from Siree’s arm and torso onto her assailant. The knife sank deeper. Siree could feel black closing around her. She struggled to stay conscious and pull free of the stabbing pain. Bright lights raced toward her.
I’m dying. Jake.
The sound of a car horn blasted the night air repeatedly. She slid down the side of the building, pressing her hands into her side to stop the flow of blood. Sticky, warm, it poured over her hands and pooled around her, tinged with a metallic scent.

“Jake’s mine!” The woman’s demented scream pierced the dark space between the buildings; the last thing Siree heard before she lost consciousness.

Jake leapt from the limo before Thomas brought it to a complete stop at the curb. “Siree. Siree!” he shouted. It felt like a giant hand had seized his heart and torn it from his chest. He’d looked ahead, anticipating his first sight of her. He expected to see her standing with Janice inside the glassed vestibule of the club. Instead, he’d seen her outlined by the light from the gym and her slender body grappling with another figure. He’d seen the flash of the knife, and roared in helpless fury, knowing he couldn’t get to her fast enough. Thomas, too, saw the attack and floored the accelerator, hitting the horn repeatedly to scare off the attacker.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Horrified, almost petrified with terror, he sank down beside her. His eyes searched for the source, finding not one bleeding wound but three. That blood still flowed told him she lived, her heart still pumping. He heard Thomas talking to 911, the fading footsteps of the assailant in the background. He wanted to give chase, to run him down and kill him with his own knife. That anyone would do this to Siree, beautiful, pure Siree.

He shrugged out of his jacket and rolled it beneath her head. Stripping off his shirt, he ripped the sleeves to form a pad and pressed it to the heavy bleeding near her ribs. Thomas hunkered down beside him, the first aid kit from the limo in his hands. “See to the one on her arm. “Hand me a couple of those large pads.” He pressed them on top of the already saturated shirt, applying a steady pressure to the wounds. Siree moaned. His heart contracted. Her hand rose to push at his, went limp and fell. He grasped it, willing his life force into her. The blood kept flowing. His voice rasped, his lungs too tight to draw in air, “Stay with me, Siree,” he commanded.
Stay with me.
His heart pled.

The sound of sirens filled the air, drowning out his whispered pleas. He kept making them. The paramedics tried to push him aside. He moved only far enough to let them work. They slid IV needles into her slender arm, cradled her neck with crash boards, cut suede and cotton into shreds so pressure bandages could be taped over her wounds.

“Thomas, after you give a statement to the police, follow us to the hospital,” he instructed, still clinging to her bloody hand. They lifted her onto a gurney. Shirtless, he walked beside her, jumped into the ambulance with her and raced off through the night. He had his phone out and called Sharon before the ambulance turned the corner. He gave her the honesty she expected, that Siree demanded from him. “You’ve got to come fast,” he told her. “It’s bad. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.” He pressed his cheek against their bloody hands and held on.

****

Sharon stepped off the elevator, looking the ultimate diplomat, controlled, ready to act. Only the white lines around her mouth betrayed her fear.
Always a class act
, he thought, striding down the corridor to meet her. She walked into his arms like she’d been there before. The arms that hugged him felt maternal and giving. He tried to give back that same sense of assurance. He searched for words that would only take it away.

Sharon stepped back, searched his eyes. “Tell me.”

He took her arm and moved her toward the small waiting room he’d measured with a thousand steps over the last half hour. “She’s been stabbed three times, across the arm, the lower torso, and close to her heart. They rushed her into surgery as soon as we got here. She’s lost a lot of blood. They’re giving her transfusions and working to stop the bleeding.”

“She’s alive? Siree’s alive.” Sharon sagged against the arm he’d wrapped around her shoulders. “Thank God. I didn’t think I’d get here in time.”

“God, I’m sorry, that should have been the first thing I said.” He tried to collect his thoughts when they just kept racing in circles.
Siree. Siree
. She had to make it. He couldn’t live without her. “The trauma team took her in, but I asked them to send for Ted Johnson, the Chief of Surgery. He has an unbeatable reputation.”

“Ted’s a good friend. I’m relieved you asked for him. He’s the best thoracic surgeon on the west coast.” Sharon straightened away from him, took a deep breath, then another. Her color returned. Her eyes sharpened. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and wait, while you tell me what happened.”

They moved back down the hall to the waiting room he’d been shown to earlier. He went over it again, like he had a hundred times in his mind, being late, telling Siree to wait for him, turning the corner and looking up from his laptop to see her fighting for her life. “I still don’t know why Janice wasn’t with her. I didn’t want her to miss the climb, so I told her to go ahead. I wasn’t there to protect her.” The burden of failure burned like acid through his circling thoughts, eating at his stuttering heart.