Cruising the Strip (24 page)

“Jesus,” Ari breathed, glad that her surveillance station was separated from the main security area. She was alone in an eight by eight room, sitting in a swivel chair in front of a twenty-inch monitor watching a beautiful woman touch herself. She knew what Melinda Baker looked like in the flesh. Five-ten, shoulder length, honey blond hair, long legs, full breasts, and an intense, focused expression that gave her almost too perfectly sculpted features a sexy edginess. So it wasn’t much of a stretch to translate the stark black-and-white image into living, breathing—Christ,
very
rapidly breathing—Technicolor. Ari touched a fingertip to her earpiece, intending to turn down the sound from the microphone connected to the video camera in the corner of Melinda’s room. The urge to protect Melinda’s privacy surprised her, but she hadn’t seen Melinda do anything the slightest bit suspicious in three and a half days. In fact, the longer the surveillance went on, the less she liked it. Something wasn’t right—this woman wasn’t any threat to the casino’s operation.

At the moment, the only threat Melinda Baker posed was to Ari’s sanity. Melinda lightly scraped her nails, shining with polish, in long, languid arcs between her navel and her pubis, moving lower with each sweep of her hand. Ari shivered. Before she could press the small button on her receiver to mute the sound of Melinda’s breathing, a soft moan froze her in mid-motion. God, there was nothing like the sound of a woman’s excitement. The first hint of that low, earthy purr always made her wet, and tonight was no exception. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, embarrassed to feel her clitoris stiffening. The rounded contours of Melinda’s full breasts curved over the edges of her slender torso, and it was easy to imagine their weighty softness in the palms of her hands. Ari tightened her fists and willed herself to look away, but she couldn’t. Melinda flicked a tight nipple with her fingertip and her lips parted with a soft sigh.

Mmm, so nice.

Ari groaned, her own hard nipples chafing against the inside of her bra. It was all she could do not to pinch them to ease the almost unbearable pressure. Melinda wasn’t in a hurry. She ran both hands over her chest and belly, returning to her breasts again and again, fondling them and fingering her nipples. She panted softly, her legs indolently twisting in the sheets, her head gently rolling from side to side. Minutes, hours passed without Ari taking a breath. Her stomach ached from the merciless pounding between her legs. Still, she remained motionless, her gaze riveted to the monitor, her clenched hands turned to stone on her thighs.

She should look away. There was no one else in Melinda’s room; there was no reason for her to watch. Melinda’s fingers plucked faster at her nipples, and her stomach hollowed as her pelvis lifted.

Oh, I want to come.

Ari could taste her, sweet and hot on her tongue. Melinda pressed the fingers of one hand into her pubis and circled her clitoris with a finger of her other hand. She breathed in Ari’s ear, small gasps and whimpers, and her finger twirled faster. The muscles on the insides of Ari’s thighs quivered, and the aching pressure at the base of her clitoris spread deeper into her pelvis. Melinda twisted on the bed, her thumb and index finger rapidly pinching the swollen prominence in the cleft between her legs.

Oh god, I’m going to…oh god. Oh god oh…oh.

Ari grabbed the receiver and yanked it off her ear as a high, thin wail filled her head. She threw the small device onto the counter in front of her and buried her face in her hands, deeply ashamed and so horribly aroused her whole body shuddered.

“Jesus Christ.” Ari reached out blindly, switched off the monitor, and lurched to her feet. Her self-loathing was matched only by her fury. She shouldered through the door into the main security station where one of the other night operatives glanced up at her, surprise written across his broad, florid face.

“Problem, Bianchi?”

“No,” she barked on her way to the door. “My target’s decided to go for a stroll. I’ll be mobile for a while.”

“Roger that,” he called after her in a bored voice, turning his attention back to the craps tables displayed on his monitors.

It took her close to five minutes to ride the jammed elevator down to the main floor, cross through the always-crowded casino floor, and take the exterior glassed-in elevator to the twentieth floor of the tower. Five minutes during which she hoped Melinda Baker was still luxuriating in the afterglow. If by some miracle her target decided to jump up and go for a brisk walk to cool down, Ari would be looking for a new job. As it was, she likely would be anyway.

“Crazy,” she murmured as she approached Suite 2011. Halting in front of the unadorned door, she eyed the bell set into the doorframe and asked herself what the hell she thought she was going to accomplish. All she was likely to achieve was getting herself reassigned or fired, and someone else, probably Mulrooney or Williams—she shuddered mentally at the thought—would end up watching Melinda Baker for the rest of her stay. Watching Melinda do whatever she did when she had no idea anyone could see her.
Not your problem,
she warned herself. Besides, there was probably a very good reason why the woman was under surveillance, and it wasn’t her job to demand explanations. It was her job to follow orders.

That thought had her reaching out to press the doorbell. Following orders was exactly what had gotten her here in the first place. While she waited, she tried to formulate a plan since she hadn’t been thinking of anything except the sight and sound of Melinda’s gratification and her own illicit pleasure in it.

“Who is it?” a surprisingly musical voice asked from the other side of the closed door.

“Security, Ms. Baker.”

Ari heard a solid
thunk
, and then the door was opening, and she knew she’d made a big, big mistake. She stared, and the casino and everyone in it faded into the far reaches of her consciousness.

Melinda Baker held the door open just enough to look out into the hall, her expression a mixture of question and concern. Even though the wall sconces in the hallway were muted, the residual flush of sexual satisfaction on her throat and in the triangle of pale, perfect skin where her black silk robe parted between her breasts was plain to see. Her blond hair was tousled, the way it would have been if a lover had run her fingers through it as they kissed. If Ari hadn’t just observed her alone only moments before, she would have concluded she’d interrupted the room’s occupant in the midst of lovemaking. As it was, her own body still resonated with the aftermath of almost sharing Melinda’s orgasm.

“Is there some problem?” Melinda’s eyes dropped to the breast pocket of Ari’s navy blue blazer. “Ms. Bianchi?”

“No,” Ari said, then quickly added, “Yes. May I come in?”

Melinda unconsciously drew the silk more tightly closed between her breasts with one hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, stepped back. “Certainly.”

Ari turned sideways as she stepped into the narrow foyer that led to the main part of the spacious suite. She did not want to brush against Melinda’s body. Not only would it be inappropriate, she didn’t think she could stand the contact when her nipples strained to be touched and her stomach rolled with the still-urgent need for release. The room was exactly as she had seen it moments before, the far bedside lamp dimmed to barely a glow, the bed covers precisely turned down, and the faint impression of Melinda’s body pressed into the sheets where she had just climaxed. Ari turned her back to the bed, hoping to banish the visual memory, and found Melinda only a few feet away, one hand in the pocket of the robe that came just to mid-thigh. With her other hand she brushed strands of loose blond hair back from her face.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Ari said, glancing up to the crown molding that edged the ceiling, knowing the camera lens was situated just at the end of the entrance foyer as it opened into the main room. She looked into Melinda’s eyes, noting the blue had turned gunmetal gray. Was that what happened when she came?

“That’s all right,” Melinda said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a camera in the ceiling on that wall over there.” Ari tilted her head, but Melinda did not look around. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on Ari’s face. “For some reason, you are under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

“And you know this how?” Melinda’s voice was low and steady.

“Because I’m one of the security officers assigned to observe you.”

“Is someone watching now?”

“Probably not. It’s my shift.”

“Can you…disable it?” Melinda asked.

“Temporarily, but it will eventually be repaired.”

“Turn it off, please.” Melinda turned away and walked quickly to the wall of windows on the far side of the room. Beyond, the fountain lights lit up the night, and sprays of water, sparkling like chains of diamonds, floated through the air.

Ari dragged a chair against the wall, climbed up, and shined her penlight along the junction of the crown molding and the ceiling tiles. When she found the minute opening, she pushed the tip of her pen into it, taking care not to enlarge the hole. When she met an obstruction, she kept steady pressure until she felt it give, and knew that the end of the fiber-optic cable had shifted. Now the image would be distorted or obliterated. Mechanical problems happened sometimes when doors were slammed, heavy objects were dropped on the floor above, or just from subtle shifting of the building itself. Cables became crimped, dislodged, or sometimes completely severed. She stepped down, replaced the chair, and stood in the middle of the room, not knowing quite what to do. Melinda Baker remained looking out.

“Are you in trouble?” Ari asked at length.

Melinda turned, smiling sadly. “I’m not in danger, if that’s what you mean. I suspect my soon-to-be ex-husband is behind this.” She shrugged elegant shoulders. “He’s convinced I’m having an affair.” She laughed softly. “And everyone knows that Las Vegas is a hotbed of infidelity.”

“I suggest you change hotels.” Ari grinned. “Although I’d prefer you didn’t mention my name if you do.”

“The conference I’m attending is here, and it’s much less convenient for me to stay elsewhere. Besides, what’s to say my husband won’t simply have me watched somewhere else? It won’t be difficult to find out where I am.”

“That’s up to you,” Ari said. “I just thought you should know.”

“That I’m being watched.”

“Yes.”

“Even in here.”

Ari’s throat was suddenly dry. “Yes.”

“And you were watching. A few minutes ago?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Melinda moved closer, so close there was less than an arm’s breadth between them. “And if I stay here, will you be the one watching me at night?”

“Yes.” Ari knew she should back up. Her head was swimming. Melinda’s scent was sweet and earthy, like crushed flower petals after a hard rain.

“Are you the kind of woman who likes to watch other women while they orgasm?”

“Sometimes.” Ari felt her hand lifting completely of its own volition, or perhaps she’d simply lost the last fragment of her control. She caressed Melinda’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. “But not when they don’t know it.”

“Then perhaps I shouldn’t tell you that it excites me to know that you were watching.” Melinda cupped Ari’s hand, angled her head, and kissed the tips of Ari’s fingers. “I’ve imagined a woman touching me, making me come, for a long time. That’s one of the reasons I’m leaving my husband.”

“Is there someone? A woman?” Ari sifted strands of silky blond hair through her fingers, her palm sliding along the curve of Melinda’s neck.

“No. When I finish, I’m always alone.”

“Not tonight,” Ari whispered. She leaned forward and very gently kissed Melinda on the mouth. “You weren’t alone tonight.”

Melinda circled Ari’s shoulders with both arms and leaned against the front of her body. Her breasts were full and firm against Ari’s, her hips softly insistent as she rocked between Ari’s thighs. Ari skimmed both hands down the silky plane of Melinda’s back and cupped her buttocks, holding her so she could press more firmly into her. Melinda tilted her head back and gave her throat to Ari’s mouth. Ari kissed her way from the soft spot below Melinda’s ear to the pulse pounding wildly at the base of her throat. She touched the beating point with the tip of her tongue and tenderly bit down.

“Oh,” Melinda breathed, tightening her fingers in the taut muscles of Ari’s shoulders. “When you watched me,” she whispered into Ari’s ear, “did you…”

“No,” Ari gasped. She raised her head and cradled Melinda’s face, kissing her again. “You excited me, but I couldn’t take advantage of you that way.”

Melinda smiled crookedly, sliding her hands from Ari’s shoulders inside her blazer and over her breasts. Ari shuddered and Melinda laughed with quiet delight. “Would you take advantage of me now, if I asked you to?”

“Right now, I’ll do anything you want.”

“I understand now why men want women, and why women do, too.” She caught Ari’s hand and guided it from her face inside her robe, molding Ari’s fingers to her breast. Her pupils widened as her nipple hardened against Ari’s palm. “The power is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“You are wonderful,” Ari said thickly, freeing the sash at Melinda’s waist and opening her robe. She bent her head and took the offered breast into her mouth. Melinda gave a startled cry and sagged against her. Ari caught her around the waist and continued to suck until Melinda tugged her head away.