LifeoftheParty (10 page)

She couldn’t look at him. “No. But it’s not the same.”

“Oh yeah?” He dropped his hands, staring dead into her.
“No,” he said, taking a step back. “I guess it wasn’t. You were probably in
love with them. Far as I know, you maybe still are.”

He may as well have stuck a knife in her heart. “Oh Doug,
that’s so not true. Those men—and believe me when I say there weren’t that
many—I was never in love with any of them.” She turned back to the big bed,
gripping the iron bars. “What they were was a balm against loneliness, a
temporary respite from getting over you.”

“Getting over
me
? Sweetheart, you
do
have a
short memory. You were the one who left, remember?”

She gripped the bars tighter. “What I remember is you
throwing me out.”

“You wanted to kill our baby!”

She punched his chest. “An embryo, which was so much more
important than a living, breathing
me
.”

His eyes narrowed. “Never.”

“Oh really? It’s what you were all about, Doug, from the
first time we were together. Remember that day? Fucking on the credenza? When
you came in me without a condom, you swore you’d marry me if I got pregnant.
And you never mentioned it again until weeks later when you found out I was.”
She moved to the other side of the bed. “Jesus, Doug, you guard your sperm like
they’re some kind of precious jewels. And the one time you didn’t, the one time
you gifted me with your hallowed spunk, I became nothing more to you than some broodmare
to carry your genius to the next generation.”

He stared at her from across the bed, his face going
crimson. “Where do you get this shit from? I loved you.”

“Because I was pregnant.”

“Dammit, woman!” He slammed his fist to the bed. “Haven’t
you figured it out yet? You were pregnant
because
I loved you. Can’t you
see that?”

“No,” she said, coming around to him. “I don’t believe you.
If that were true then why won’t you come in me now? I’m even on the Pill and
you still won’t. You come on my dress, my underwear, my tits, in my ass. In my
mouth the same way you did with your whores, but
in
my vagina? Never.”
She ripped off her jacket, rushing to the blank space by the side of the door.
“Come on over here, Doug. Press yourself against the wall and let me suck your
sacred sperm and then you can shove twenty bucks down my tits.” She lifted her
skirt, still naked underneath from their tryst in the park, her eyes wild, her
nails scraping the plaster. “Come and make love to me like your whore.”

Rage.
Pure and white hot. He lunged at her like an
animal, teeth bared, claws out, pouncing. When he landed he was pressing her
against the wall, ripping at her clothes, his mouth biting hers. She slapped
him, his face, his ears, but he couldn’t feel any of it, so perfect was his
anger, so precise his lust. Her blouse came off in tatters, some buttons
clattering to the hardwood, two or three bouncing to land silently on the rug.
He shoved his hand up her skirt, yanking at her garter belt. She squirmed, stockings
running, his hands sliding to her ass, lifting her up. When he ripped her skirt
he made his fatal error, freeing her to knee him solidly in the belly. He
reeled back and, wind gone, fell to his knees.

“Ha!” She laughed, triumphant, her candy-red pumps taking a
celebratory strut around him. She yanked off her ruined skirt, tossing it into
his face. “Look at the big stud now,” she said, bending over. “You’re fucking
pathetic.”

He took a gulp of air, regaining his breath, watching her.
Bra, garter belt, ruined stockings, those pumps. That was it and that was too
much. When she bent over him, he could see halfway to heaven, when she turned
her ass it was Eden. But that pussy,
that pussy
. A perfect triangle of
perfect mystery, what men lusted, fought and died over. He understood it now.
Fully. The thought of anyone,
anyone
ever coming near her sent his blood
boiling again. He shrugged off his jacket, loosening his tie, a bead of sweat
trickling down his face.

“Pathetic,” she repeated, crossing her arms. Her fatal
error.

His gaze swiveled upward. He lunged again, knocking her to
the floor.

“Bastard!” she cried, rolling over, squirming loose to climb
to her feet. But he was on her in a second, twisting her arm behind her,
pushing her face-first into the bed.

He held her there, squashing her hand to her back with his
knee while he shrugged off his holster, while he yanked his tie over his head,
while he ripped his own shirt from him. Her legs kicked futilely while he
unbuckled his belt. As he unzipped she cursed him repeatedly. He spread her
legs and shoved himself inside her.

She screamed.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care if she screamed, if anyone
heard, if the walls came tumbling down. All he cared was that he was buried
deep and she was under him. But it wasn’t enough and he knew it.

“Bastard,” she whimpered, fingers bunching the quilt.

He pulled out, turning her over.

She looked up at him, her chest heaving, her eyes shiny with
tears.

He had never been more ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his heart clenching.

“So am I,” she answered. “Over and over again.”

“
Gina
.”

“Kiss me.”

He fell into her, mouth, body, lips, raising up as she
wrapped her legs around him, slipping his cock into her so easily it seemed a
natural harbor. As he held her on the edge of the bed he began to move, kicking
off his shoes as her candy-red pumps crossed over his ass, sliding his trousers
down his legs. He stepped out of them and lowered her back to the bed.

He fell in deeper, her pussy like velvet, her tightness
indescribable. As he fucked her she groaned softly, but he needed to give her
more. He pulled up and flicked her bra open, her gorgeously full breasts
tumbling out. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, pulling, tugging,
sliding his tongue around the areola until his lips rested just south of it.
Then he sucked, burning brand after brand across one breast and then the other,
until she writhed and stiffened beneath him, clawing her nails down his back.

“Gina,” he groaned, kissing her, sucking her tongue,
devouring her.

He had never kissed her like this before. His mouth savaged
hers, biting and nipping, her hips arching into his. Then she dragged her mouth
away, kissing a trail down his chest to land at a nipple. She sucked it into
her mouth, pulling, tugging too, until he felt a burning deep within his groin
and he pumped faster, driving deeper inside her. Then she let loose, her mouth
trailing again, until she stopped near his right breast, the tiny reminder
precariously close to his heart. When she kissed it he froze.

“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you that morning,”
she said softly. “Never until the day I die.”

“Don’t,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Don’t ever say that
again.”

“I’ll say what I want. Just like this.” She kissed him,
whispering against his mouth, “I’ll never leave you again.”

All at once, his head was spinning. “Gina, dammit, Gina.” He
shook it quickly, clearing it somewhat. Then he leaned into her, his heart to
hers, the autumn sun turning her face to gold.

He pushed himself up until his arms nested around her, her
chestnut hair spilling about her head, her lips deep red and swollen from their
kissing, her face flushed. When her sherry-colored eyes, heavy-lidded and
smoldering with heat looked into his, his heart surged with inexplicable joy.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her. “I always have, and I
always will.”

She gasped, and it was all he could stand. He pushed himself
up and pumped his hips, fucking her until she cried out again, her neck arching
in climax. Then so was he, his body stiffening, spiraling, blinded by a
white-hot spasm of pleasure so intense he collapsed against her, his cock
pulsing and throbbing as he emptied every ounce of himself into her. . After a
few moments he fell to her side, breathing heavily.

She smiled, brushing her fingers down his cheek. “Thank
you.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he said with a grin. He kissed
her hand. “Christ, I love you.”

“I’m glad. Ecstatic.” She laughed. “Truly. And hungry.”

“For food?”

“For food. For
everything
.”

Incredibly, he began to harden again.
Everything
would have to come first. He rolled up, raising himself over her.

* * * * *

FIFTH DISTRICT, CITY OF CAMDEN POLICE DEPARTMENT

DETECTIVE UNIT

4:46 P.M.

“So that’s her,” Captain Halchak said, snapping the blind
back into place.

Doug glanced to where she stood, chatting with Stewart as he
poured her a cup of hours-old coffee. “That’s her. The infamous Gina Bardone.”

“Getting along better, I suspect?”

He tugged at his collar, smug at what lay beneath. “You can
say that.”

“And so can you.” The captain glanced to his desk and the
handkerchief Doug was unwrapping. “Whatcha got there?”

“Someone strolled into Gina’s room while we were at Falco’s
office this morning. Left this off the hook. Thought I’d run it by the lab.”

“You don’t say. Hey, someone called today looking for you.
Fellow by the name of Parks.”

“Oh yeah. Falco’s county campaign manager. Did he say what
he wanted?”

“Only to call him. Something about a list.”

“From the fundraiser we went to last night. Whoever it is
who’s sending those emails, he was there.”

Halchak perched on the end of his desk. “Narrowing it down
then?”

He glanced out the doorway as Gina waved. “Oh yeah. In more
ways than one.”

FIFTH DISTRICT, CITY OF CAMDEN POLICE DEPARTMENT

INVESTIGATIONS LABORATORY

5:06 P.M.

“There aren’t any.”

Gina stared at the technician. “No prints at all? But that’s
ridiculous. That phone’s from a public hotel. Unless…” Her gaze snapped to
Doug’s.

“It’s been wiped clean,” he said, finishing her thought.

She picked up the piece of plastic. “Which is even more
scary if you think about it. That someone went through all the trouble.”

“To leave us now with nothing.” Doug nodded to the man
“Thanks, Sid. If you don’t mind, I’d like it if you didn’t mention this.”

“Sure thing,” he said, sliding a dusting brush into a tube.
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

As they walked to the car, Gina latched on to Doug’s arm.
“Who was in my room, Doug?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But whoever they were, they were either
really stupid or really smart.” He pulled her closer. “You hungry?”

She nipped his sleeve. “Ravenous. I haven’t had anything in
me besides coffee—and
you
—all day.”

“Likewise, doll,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “What do
you say we take a hop over the bridge.”

“To Philly?” She looked to the west, the sunset coloring the
skyline. “Where shall we go?”

“I know just the place.”

* * * * *

TAVERN 17 RESTAURANT

RADISSON PLAZA-WARWICK HOTEL—RITTENHOUSE SQUARE

PHILADELPHIA, PA

6:05 P.M.

“Your table’s ready, sir.”

“Thank you.” Doug looked to Gina. “Shall we?”

“Oh absolutely.” She rose off the barstool, taking her
wineglass with her. “Three sips and I’m already buzzed, I’m so hungry.”

“Well, we’re going to fix that real quick.” Doug took his
wine too, the taste of it so civilized, he hadn’t realized he missed it so
much. For so long his alcohol consumption had been as essential as clothing and
heat, such a private function his flask had become a permanent part of his
anatomy. But since Gina… He wasn’t even sure where it was now.

He watched her move between the tables behind the maître d’,
her hips swiveling around a planter. God, she had such a gorgeous ass. How he’d
love to bend her over a table, lift her dress and pile-drive her, right here in
front of everyone. He smiled, imagining their faces. Shocked. Amazed. Jealous.
She’s
mine
, he’d say to each and every one of them.
She’s mine, and you can’t
have her.

Was she? She did say she’d never leave him. But did she say
it out of love or pity?
“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you that
morning.”
Or guilt. There was that. He could never stand it if it was out
of pity, but could he live with her without love? Maybe for right now what was
between them was enough. Because he knew damn well he could never live without
her again.

She took a seat at the table, smiling up at him.

Doug draped the napkin across his lap, scanning the menu. It
wasn’t a few seconds before he closed it. “I’ve made up my mind. It’s the
porterhouse. Definitely.”

Gina closed hers as well. “Oh yeah.
Beef.
I just
can’t get enough.” Her eyes sparkled, her hand slipping under the table to his
knee.

He grabbed it. “Don’t start with me, woman, I’m warning
you.”

She slid her hand up to his package, giving it a squeeze.
“Oh yeah? What’re you going to do about it?”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Because there in
the dim warmth of the dining room light, as he leaned in and slipped his hand
under the table, under the cloak of the tablecloth, he gave her his answer.

The dress she wore that evening was a vision of sex.
Sleeveless with a Roman drape, it was nothing more than a deeply bodiced slink
of silk that flowed full-skirted over her trim waist to her knees. He slid his
hand up her flinching thigh to the smoldering join of her legs, his gaze fixed
on hers. When he found her clit, since wearing panties had long proved useless,
she jumped.

Her eyes flared. “
Doug.
”

He leaned in even closer. “You were saying?”

“I don’t think…” Her eyes fluttered.

“Don’t. Think,” he murmured, flicking her clit. And flicking.
And flicking. Then he slipped his finger inside her.

She bit her lip, her fingernails digging into the
tablecloth, her body as rigid as marble.

He withdrew, sucked the tip of his finger and straightened,
reopening his menu just as the waiter approached their table.

“Good evening, sir, madam. Can I interest you in anything
from our fine wine cellar?”

Doug held up his wineglass, regarding the ruby-red liquid.
“This was very good.” He looked to Gina. “Shall we try a bottle?”

Her hands slipped to her lap, her mouth opened with nothing
coming out.

“Fine, sweetheart.” He looked to the waiter. “I believe it
was a pinot. Could you check with the bartender? We just came from there.”

“Very good, sir.” The server left.

He looked to Gina. “You all right, doll?”

Her eyes flared. “Jesus, Doug! I was still coming!”

“It’s becoming a regular habit with you, isn’t it?” He
tsked. “And here we are, in a public place.”

She leaned in, gripping his arm. “Oh you are so going to pay
for that.”

He leaned in, kissing her nose. “I can’t wait. But then
again, anticipation is nine-tenths of the process, isn’t it?”

* * * * *

Gina had no idea how they made it through dinner. If it
weren’t for the fact she was famished beyond reason, she would have dragged him
out of the room by his necktie, tossed him into the nearest closet and ripped
off his trousers. Didn’t help he looked so goddamned fabulous tonight. In
nothing more than a plain gray flannel suit. But it was more than that. He had
a glow about him. His eyes nearly shimmered, his skin looked flush with health,
his smile was never wider. She knew the reason well enough. He looked like a
man in love.

With her.
With her.

He stood, reaching for her hand. When she took it and he
smiled, she fell in love with him all over again.

For the tenth time that day.

Not that she could tell him. Not yet, anyway. Not until she
was sure.

His arm was around her as they left the restaurant. “I can’t
wait,” she whispered, leaning in.

He kissed her temple. “My thoughts exactly. Hold on.”

Within minutes, they were at the front desk. “I’d like a
room.”

The clerk looked up. “Do you have a reservation, sir?”

“Actually, no.”

The clerk tapped at his computer, then frowned. “I’m sorry,
but we have three conventions in town, and everything is—”

Doug
a-hemed
, proffering his detective’s shield.

The clerk glanced to Gina. She smiled sweetly. And back to
Doug. “I see.”

“Special investigation,” Doug whispered, snapping it closed.
“You understand?”

“Certainly, sir.” He tapped some more. “Ah. It appears we
have a king room on the Plaza Club level.”

“Imagine that. We’ll take it.”

“Excellent. Driver’s license and credit card, please.” A
minute more and Doug slid the keycard from the counter. “Any luggage, sir?”

He pulled a toothbrush from his pocket. “I think I can manage.”

The clerk’s brow arched. “Take the first elevator to your
left.”

“Many thanks.” He pressed his hand to the small of Gina’s
back. “Privilege does have its rewards.”

She laughed. “You’re a devious little bastard, you know?”

His hand slipped to her ass as they stepped into the
elevator. “There’s nothing
little
about me, doll.”

“Really?” She looped her arms around his neck as the door
thunked
shut. “I think I’m going to need firm evidence of that.”

He pulled her to him, kissing her hard, fast. “Enough with
the metaphors. Let me give it to you straight. I’m going to fuck the living
shit out of you. Is that plain enough?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, stepping away. “Can you give me an
example?” The elevator stopped and she fairly shot out.

By the time they got to their room, they were both breathing
heavily. Doug grabbed the keycard from her and shoved it into the lock. He
pulled her inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

Jacket, tie to a chair, holstered weapon on the night table,
shoes flung one foot at a time across the room. She dropping her coat and purse
to the floor. They stood facing each other, her hands frantically working his
belt buckle, his arms flung around her, unzipping her dress. She pulled out his
shirt, unbuttoning as he slid her dress up her hips. She raised her arms, and
over her head it went.

Jungle animal-print bra and garter belt. Stockings.
Three-and-a-half-inch black peep-toe pumps.

Opened Oxford shirt, black socks, trousers unzipped halfway
down. Corralling one raging hard-on, ready to split the seams.

Gina’s eyes flashed to his and she leapt forward, pushing
him back to the bed.

“My turn now,” she breathed, yanking his trousers from him.

She noticed he too had cottoned to the futility of
underwear. He shrugged out of his shirt as she slipped off his socks. He
shimmied back to the headboard and braced his muscled arms atop it, spreading
his legs slightly, his cock at full attention. As she began to climb on the
bed, he stopped her with a lift of his brow.

“As much as I love the tease, I want everything off.”

She thumbed her garter belt. “Even this?”

His cock twitched. “Everything,” he rasped, swallowing hard.
“Fair is fair.”

“Well…okay.” She reached behind her and unsnapped the bra,
leaning forward to shrug it off, arching her back as she righted herself. She
then pulled a chair from the desk and propped her foot atop it, unsnapping one
garter from one leg at a time and slipping off her shoes, methodically rolled
her stockings off. She glanced to Doug. He hadn’t moved an inch, his eyes fixed
on her, rapt. Then, standing up, she turned around and slowly slid her garter
belt over her ass, bending forward to push it down her legs. When it hit her
ankles she stepped out of it and touched her toes. She spread her legs
slightly, brandishing her slickened clit, a little shot of pleasure racing
through her when she heard his throat clear expansively.

“Get up here,” he said, most authoritatively.

She righted herself and turned, raising her arms to push her
hair back. But before she could take a step he said, “Wait.” His gaze bored
into hers. “Put the shoes on.”

Her head quirked. “Excuse me?”

His hands gripped the headboard, his biceps bulging
precipitously. “I said,
put the shoes on
.”

She smiled as wickedly as she could. And slipping them on,
she went to him.

Gina climbed atop the big bed, crawling toward him as if she
were some predatory creature. She stopped at his foot. “I sense a bit of a foot
fetish, my darling. I think this needs a little more exploration.” She pinched
his big toe between her fingers and sucked it into her mouth.

He groaned.

“Ah. Just as I suspected.” She sucked each toe, from one
foot to the other, Doug growling at her, threatening to bite hers off. “Now why
would you do that, Dougie? What would that leave to peep out my peep-toes?”

He grinned at her. “Biding my time, doll, just biding my
time.”

“Really.” She gave his toes one more thorough going-over
before kissing and sucking and licking her way to his groin. “Now this is where
it gets interesting,” she said, slowly spreading his legs.

She moved between them, her hands on his knees, rising up to
brush her pussy against his balls, his cock. She ground herself against him,
inching up until her clit rested against the rigid underside of his shaft,
where she painfully, methodically rubbed against him, letting her slit circle
the glistening head of his cock until he moaned, pushing against her.

“Not yet,” she said, sliding her pussy to his taut belly.
She let her hot juices slicken his soft hairs as his cock twitched and throbbed
against her ass. Then she turned atop him and, arching up on her knees, sucked
his shaft down her throat.

He gasped, his ass lifting off the bed as Gina tightened her
lips around him and pulled up and down a couple dozen times. Her lips came to
rest at his silky-soft crown, her tongue circling and sucking until she tasted
the barest hint of his come trickling into her mouth. From here she let his
cock slide from her lips and went to work instead on his balls, rolling one at
a time in her mouth.

“Ahhh…” he groaned, his legs shifting, his hand sliding to
her hips. As she kissed and licked and flicked her tongue against his balls,
she suddenly became aware of his finger entering a vagina so hot and slick she
was sure she’d burn him.

Which made her think of the one thing that set Doug apart
from all the men she had ever known—aside from the obvious, of course. He was a
master at pleasing women, expertly, howlingly so. From the caress of his lips
to the tip of his extraordinary cock, he knew how to coax and tease and explode
an orgasm out of her, and usually many more. As in now, as his finger explored,
seeking her G-spot or whatever magic button he had ferreted out, she could
already feel herself rising. Add to that the touch and taste of his cock and
balls in her mouth, his ripped body between her legs, and she damn well felt
ready to launch off the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, his finger receding, his hands
sliding to her ass. “Time to fuck.”

“Not yet,” she said, her mouth once again circling his head.
“I’m not quite—
erp
!”

He had grabbed hold of her three-and-half-inch heels and
yanked her feet from under her. She fell splat on his legs, only to feel them
slide away before he pushed her back up on her knees. She latched on to the
footboard, steadying herself.

“Hence the reasoning behind the shoes,” she said, feeling
him positioning himself behind her. “Traitorous things.”