Tell Me No Spies (22 page)

“Oh. So…” he
hesitated. “That’s bad news about your friend. Do you think she’s…
uh…” He gave me an apologetic glance. “Already dead?”

I scrubbed my hands
over my face, trying to hold back despair. “I don’t know. She was
still alive Thursday night. One of my other friends talked to her
then. But she was on her cell, not at home, so maybe James is
holding her somewhere. I hope.”

I looked over at
Arnie’s rigid face. “You’re the private investigator. What do you
think?”

“I think I’m gonna
kill the fucker myself if I find him.”

“Arnie…” I laid a hand
on his arm, feeling the unyielding muscles through his jacket. “I
know you’re not a violent man.”

“Then ya don’t know me
very well.”

I hid a shudder at the
sight of his eyes. I didn’t know how to respond. I knew he’d dealt
death in combat, and I knew how much violence he’d suffered as a
child. But he’d always been so gentle with me.

I took his face in my
hands and looked into his eyes. “Everybody has a violent side. I
know you choose not to be that person. You don’t have to let James
change that.”

His face softened, and
he pressed his cheek briefly against my hand. “Thanks,
darlin’.”

“So what do you think
we should do?”

He sat for a few
moments, absently running his jacket’s zipper up and down while he
stared into the gathering dusk. “We gotta find Jim. No point
lookin’ for Nichele. He’s prob’ly got her stashed somewhere.” He
reached over to squeeze my knee reassuringly. “Don’t worry,
darlin’, I doubt if he’s killed her. Jim’s a smart sonuvabitch, an’
I bet he still wants to set her up to take the fall for this
launderin’ scheme.”

“So how do we find
him?” Dave asked.

Hellhound scowled.
“
We
don’t. I do. I got a few markers I can call in. Might
take me a while, but I know where to start lookin’.”

“Do we go back to
Calgary tonight?” Dave persisted.

Hellhound and I
exchanged a look. “Can you think of any place we can hole up?” I
asked.

“Yeah…” he replied
slowly. “But I don’t wanna stay there any longer than we hafta.
We’re prob’ly better off stayin’ here tonight. It’s gettin’ late
anyway. Better to sleep here an’ get an early start tomorrow.” His
eyes glinted with his wicked grin. “Mosta the guys I’m gonna see
tomorrow ain’t much for early risin’. They’ll be easiest to find in
the mornin’.”

“Okay.” I slid off the
trunk of the Caprice. “I have to go for a run. I’ve been cooped up
and on edge for so long I’m ready to explode.” I grabbed my
backpack and headed for the truck to change.

Later, shoehorned into
the miniscule bathroom in the sleeper, I realized my mistake when I
peeled off my sweaty clothes. God, when had I washed my hair last?
I ran a brush through it, shuddering. Not for the first time, I
blessed my coarse waves. Even when my hair was nearly crawling off
my head, it still didn’t look too bad. I freshened up as best I
could in the tiny sink and put on the last of my clean clothes.

When I emerged,
Hellhound eyed me enviously in the dim illumination of the dome
light. “Wish I had a change a’ clothes, too,” he said.

“Thought you’d never
ask,” Dave snorted as he opened a cabinet door and tossed a T-shirt
at Hellhound’s head. “Here. You smell like the south end of a
northbound bear.”

Hellhound reddened.
“Didn’t think it was that bad,” he mumbled as he rose.

“It’s not, Dave’s just
rattling your chain,” I assured him.

He peeled off his
shirt, and the sleeper seemed suddenly smaller as I admired the
play of his bulky muscles. Dave offered him a deodorant stick with
slightly more deference, possibly impressed by the extensive
display of colourful tattoos.

Arnie nodded thanks
and wedged himself into the bathroom to wash up as well. When he
stepped out, he pulled the clean shirt on and flexed his shoulders
carefully. “Ain’t sure if this’s better or not.”

Dave’s T-shirt
strained across his chest like a second skin, and his biceps
stretched the sleeves. His solid abs were clearly defined under the
taut fabric, and I nearly suggested to Dave that it was time for
him to go for a walk. A nice long walk.

“It’s doing it for
me,” I purred.

Hellhound grinned, his
eyes hot on me. “Ya think this’s doin’ it, gimme a few minutes
alone with ya.”

Dave flushed and
shuffled toward the door. “Uh, I think I’ll go for a walk.”

“It’s okay, Dave,” I
said quickly, tearing my eyes away from the skin-tight cotton.
“We’re just kidding around. We all need to get some sleep.”

“Speak for yourself,
darlin’.” Hellhound leered. “I don’t need sleep that bad.”

“That’s because you
were snoring your head off last night while I lay here and listened
to you,” I retorted. “You might not need sleep, but I do.”

“Okay,” Dave agreed
hurriedly. “You can have the bed tonight.”

When I started to
protest, he raised both hands and took a step back, flushing. “No,
really.”

“Why don’t we take
shifts,” I suggested. “That way, we can all get a bit of
sleep.”

“Nah, I don’t need the
bed,” Hellhound disagreed. “It’s prob’ly too small for me anyway.
The two a’ ya can trade off. I did fine in the seat last
night.”

“You can have it for
the first half, Dave,” I said. “I didn’t get cold until later in
the night anyway.”

“Okay…” he said
hesitantly. “Promise you’ll wake me up when it’s your turn,
though.”

“I will.”

I had hoped to fall
asleep before Dave, but he was snoring within minutes. I sighed in
frustration while I squirmed in the passenger seat again. Arnie
seemed to be having difficulties, too. In the cloud-bound
blackness, I heard him shift a couple of times before he blew out
an irritable breath. Dave snored on, a raucous one-note solo.

I wrapped my jacket
more tightly around me and tried to find a comfortable position,
not quite shivering, but not quite warm enough, either.

I heard movement from
the driver’s seat again, and a moment later, Hellhound whispered,
“Can’t sleep, darlin’.” Leather creaked, and I felt him kneel
beside my seat. Warm lips and rough whiskers trailed down my neck.
“I been thinkin’ about your leather top, an’ it’s keepin’ me
up.”

My hands found his
chest in the blackness, and I leaned close to nibble his ear. “I’ve
been thinking about your tight T-shirt. And what’s underneath it.
And what’s south of it.” I slid my hand a little lower.

His growl raised the
small hairs on the back of my neck. “Oh, yeah, darlin’. Down an’ to
the left.”

His lips found mine as
his hand glided over my breast. I encountered the bulge in his
jeans and fondled it, tasting his lips with the tip of my
tongue.

He groaned and pulled
me closer, dexterously unfastening my jeans one-handed.

I grabbed his hand and
pulled away a fraction to whisper, “We can’t. Dave’s right there.
And there’s not enough room anyway.”

Hellhound’s hand slid
under my T-shirt to begin a persuasive campaign, teasing me with
feather-light touches. I found myself clutching at his
firmly-packed cotton as his gravelly murmur tickled my eardrum.
“It’d take a bomb to wake Dave up. An’ there’s always a way if ya
wanna get creative.”

He kissed me deeply,
his tongue sending shivers of hot desire to places that were
already begging for his touch. He slipped an arm around me and
stood, pulling me out of the seat.

He kissed me once
more, then spun me around to pull my back against his front. His
beard and moustache woke electric tingles under my skin as he
mumbled against my neck.

“Did ya like spoonin’
with Dave this mornin’? How’d ya like to spoon with me now?”

His hand slid under my
shirt and into my bra, and I drew in an unsteady breath when his
fingertips transformed into a teasing mouth, nibbling and sucking.
His other hand drifted to my undone jeans, easing them down.

I made a grab for his
wrist in an effort to keep my pants on. “I’m not going to get
naked, not with Dave right here,” I hissed. “If he opens his eyes,
we’re the first thing he’ll see.”

Hellhound’s deep
chuckle vibrated my neck. “It’s dark. He couldn’t see his hand in
front of his face. An’ ya don’t hafta get naked, darlin’.”

His fingers dipped
inside my panties and I gasped as he began to do all the right
things in all the right places. My God, the man was a virtuoso. And
it had been two goddamn long months.

I pressed back against
him, trying not to soak up the delicious sensations shooting
through my body. Dave was only a few feet away. This was totally
inappropriate. Any minute now, I’d make Hellhound stop… doing…
ohmigod…
that
…

My hips moved against
his hand without my permission, begging for more despite the
distant protests of the tiny remaining part of my sensible
mind.

“You’re all hot an’
slippery, darlin’,” he growled against my ear. “Ya like the danger,
don’t ya? Ya like knowin’ ya might get caught.”

My denial somehow got
lost on the way down from my brain, and all that emerged from my
lips was a breathless moan when he got truly creative with those
magic fingers.

My jeans slid a little
lower. He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me while his
hands momentarily ceased their mind-melting work. A zipper
whispered behind me, and I recognized the sound of a condom
wrapper. I tried to seize the opportunity to pull away, but lost
the will to complete the movement when his hands went back into
action seconds later.

Hot, stiff temptation
pressed against my ass, and a wave of hungry lust dragged me
under.

I tried. I really did.
One last feeble attempt. “There’s not enough space…”

“No problem,”
Hellhound whispered. He sank into the passenger seat and pulled me
toward him. “You’re gonna sit on my lap an’ tell me what ya want
for Christmas, little girl. I think ya been naughty.” He hooked a
finger into the crotch of my thong, pulling it aside as he guided
me down. “This’s what naughty girls get for Christmas.”

I lost my breath as he
slid inside me, and his hand began to work its magic again. I had a
moment of sheer appreciation for his strength and flexibility when
he began to thrust unhurriedly, and then sentient thought melted
and puddled in the luscious heat.

“What d’ya want for
Christmas, naughty girl?” he whispered, pulsing slowly, so slowly.
“Ya want this?”

“Harder…” My plea came
out louder than I’d intended, and Dave’s snoring was broken by a
sigh and a suspenseful pause before it resumed, louder than
ever.

“Shhhh. Don’t wanna
wake Dave.” Hellhound continued his smooth, leisurely rhythm,
driving me wild with need. I rocked in his lap, trying to make him
quicken the pace, but he wrapped an arm around my waist to hold me
firmly. His strong abs flexed, the feel of all that controlled
power beneath me making me hotter still.

“Ya want this?” His
fingers increased their tempo between my legs while his slow,
sensuous thrusting continued.

“Please…” The word
came out on a rising moan while the wicked pleasure expanded and
radiated through my body.

He removed his grip
from my waist to clamp his hand over my mouth instead. “Shhh,
darlin’. Remember, Dave’s right there.”

He nibbled my neck and
kissed his way up to nuzzle my ear, stroking more heat into me all
the while. “Dave could wake up any minute an’ catch us. He could
open his eyes right when you’re comin’ your brains out.” His
rough-edged voice stimulated my eardrum with the same erotic
texture as his whiskers on my skin.

God help me, I didn’t
think I’d been harbouring any audience fantasies, but the illicit
excitement spiralled out of control. Little whimpers escaped me
while my body begged for release, and I struggled again, trying to
urge him on. Oh, God, almost there…

He held me tightly,
controlling the pace while my pressure built. Tremors of tension
shook me, and he reduced his tempo still more while his touch
lightened, prolonging the exquisite finger torture while those
slow, slow thrusts pumped in more ecstasy than my body could
hold.

“What d’ya want for
Christmas, darlin’?” he muttered breathlessly.

A few more measured
strokes…

I gasped an uneven
breath, the first of the contractions rolling through my body at
last. I arched back against him with a strangled cry.

“HardOhGodHard
Please
…”

His body tensed.
“Don’t… wake… Dave…” he rasped. His grip tightened convulsively,
and he pounded up into me. Once. Twice…

My orgasm ripped
through me, the intensity redoubling with each powerful thrust. His
body was like iron under me, his arms locked around me while I
bucked mindlessly against him.

His hoarse whisper
jerked out in time with his hard, deliberate rhythm. “Ah… God…
darlin’… Nnnngh!”

He slammed home one
last time, and our bodies strained against each other to the sound
of our ragged gasps.

I sprawled limply in
Hellhound’s lap, trying to catch my breath. Dave snored on,
undisturbed by our panting. Sweat trickled down my back, and when I
made an attempt to sit up, my entire body trembled.

Hellhound’s breathless
chuckle rumbled up from beneath me. “Sure glad I ain’t Santa
Claus.”

I fell back against
him, setting up the straight line for the old chestnut.
“Because…”

“I’d only get to come
once a year.” His arms tightened around me and he pumped
suggestively.

“Uh-huh. Old joke.” I
twisted around to give him a sideways kiss over my shoulder. “Help
me get up. My legs won’t work.”

“An’ ya think mine’re
gonna? Hell with that. Sleep right here.” He cuddled me closer and
faked a snore.