Twelve Nights (15 page)

“I’ll call you a cab,” Richard offered.

“He really doesn’t want to see me tonight?” Aggie asked.
“After I got all dressed up?”

Richard shook his head. His instructions had been explicit.
Ask her the questions and put her in a cab. And arrange for a tail. Minutes
after he escorted Aggie down the elevator and into the waiting cab, he was
upstairs at the entrance to Jimmy’s private suite. The two men watched the
beginning of the videotape in silence. The camera picked up their entrance into
the office and Richard helping Aggie out of her coat. When he saw her outfit,
Jimmy groaned.

“We ate Hungarian food last night,” he explained. “She must
have bought the clothes today.”

“She looked very nice,” Richard commented.

Jimmy groaned again. He watched for several minutes in
silence, though his body language spoke for him. He fidgeted in his chair,
dropped his head into his hand then looked quickly up. Richard saw all the
signs of a man in torment, a man bewitched. When Richard told her on the tape
that Jimmy didn’t want to see her and the tear escaped from Aggie’s eye, Jimmy
leapt to his feet.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“I sent her back to the hotel,” Richard admitted.

“You imbecile!” Jimmy shouted. “You fucking imbecile!”

Though his employer was in a towering rage, Richard had to
laugh. The resemblance between the two blazing tempers was too much. If these
two ever got together, they would ignite an inferno.

“What’s so funny?” Jimmy demanded.

“She called me a whoreson,” Richard chuckled.

“Elizabethan,” Jimmy commented his temper fading.

“Miss Trout, Aggie, has a hot temper too, Jimmy,” Richard
chuckled. “Watch the rest of the tape.”

Jimmy paced the room, though his eyes never left the tape as
it continued to the end of the interview. When Aggie lost her temper for the
second time, he pounded Richard on the back.

“Isn’t she something?” he exclaimed. “Get her on the phone
at the hotel. I’ll ask her to come back. Danny put her in the Queen Anne
suite.”

Richard had his reservations. She had been pretty angry,
though her fury had blown away as quickly as it had arisen. Still, this
holocaust was between Jimmy and Aggie. Let them fight it out. He dialed the
number of the Vancouver Hotel, ready to hand the phone to Jimmy as soon as she
answered. He asked for the Queen Anne suite. The phone rang once, twice, ten
times. At last the hotel operator clicked back in.

“I’m sorry, sir. No one is answering at that number. Would
you like me to leave a message?”

Richard thought quickly.

“Is the suite still registered to Miss Trout,” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” the operator confirmed. “Miss A. Trout.”

Richard covered the mouthpiece with his hand.

“Do you want to leave a message?”

“No,” Jimmy growled.

Richard thanked the operator and hung up the phone.

“Hire more detectives,” Jimmy continued, more thoughtful now
than angry. “By tomorrow night, I want to know everything. What clubs she
joined in high school, who her roommates were in college, what brand of
toothpaste she uses. Everything.”

Richard hung up the phone. He considered arguing with his
employer, then shrugged his shoulders. Jimmy’s ears might listen, but his penis
was making the decisions.

At 6:05 the following evening, Jimmy waited in the lobby of
the apartment building. He waited hopefully though as far as he could tell,
Aggie had disappeared into the Vancouver fog. She hadn’t left for their
rendezvous from the Vancouver Hotel the evening before, so the tail had never
picked her up. Consequently, he hadn’t been there to follow her when she left
after meeting with Richard. The chambermaid had revealed that the bed in the
suite had never been slept in.

A cab pulled up to the front of the building and Jimmy
waited for the occupant to alight. His anger exploded when Aggie stepped out,
looking as cool and possessed as if she hadn’t just vanished from the earth for
almost twenty-four hours.

“Aggie!” Jimmy raced out of the hotel and pulled the young
temptress into a hug. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Been?” she responded, pulling back to look him in the face.
“Nowhere. At the hotel.”

“I know you’re not staying at the Vancouver Hotel.”

Jimmy expected contrition, maybe tears. Instead he heard a
cool laugh.

“Is that what the fuss is? I moved to another hotel.”

“Why?”

“Jimmy,” her voice was sexy and insinuating, “when I got
here, I didn’t know who you were. I was answering a newspaper ad. I’m cautious.
I moved to another hotel.”

“What hotel?” Jimmy demanded.

“I don’t think I ought to tell you,” she stated simply as
she stepped back out of his arms.

“Why not?”

“You have my nights, Jimmy,” she reminded him. “That’s all
you bought.”

“What are you hiding, Aggie?”

“Nothing,” she insisted.

She turned toward the lobby door and Jimmy followed. Where
had the tigress of the video disappeared to? This woman was a fox, beautiful
but sly and dangerous. Jimmy’s patience ran out. He grabbed the woman by the
elbow and dragged her down the hall to the elevator, determined to aggravate
her, maybe scare her, anything to provoke the real Aggie into appearing. Though
rigid, she followed him without protest. When they entered the apartment, the
woman, Jimmy could no longer think of her as Aggie, walked straight to the bedroom.

“You told Richard you weren’t satisfied the first night,”
she told him as she walked into the room in front of him. “Tonight you will
be.”

She stripped off her clothes in a teasing dance as Jimmy
leaned against the door jam. Though her body was as gorgeous as ever, her legs
as long, her bosom as firm, her face as enchanting, he was unmoved by the
performance. At last she stood naked before him. When he didn’t react, she
walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She patted the spot next to her.

“Join me,” she invited.

Jimmy remembered her words to Richard the first day. The one
thing she didn’t like the idea of was discipline.

“I’m going to punish you,” he growled. He pulled off his
belt.

Though she paled, she didn’t explode. He swung the belt at a
chair; it cracked hard on the back and the fabric split.

“You promised not to hurt me,” she reminded him. She was as
pale as the sheets, but still she didn’t crack.

“No blood,” he promised.

The woman nodded. Christ, she should be frightened out of
her skin by now, a sobbing puddle on the floor. He’d pick her up and assure her
that he’d never struck anyone in his life, that he would never hurt her. But
she just sat, statue pale and still, waiting.

Jimmy sat beside her on the bed and pulled her down across
his lap. Her bare bottom swelled in his lap but he felt no enticement. Why
wasn’t she fighting him? For the first time it occurred to Jimmy that maybe she
had a mental condition, a genuine split personality. He righted her and sat her
on his lap.

“Aggie,” he began.

A tear slipped down her cheek and he reached up a finger to
wipe it away. Before he could touch her face, she slapped him hard across the
cheek. When Jimmy regained his senses, the woman was prostrate across his lap
and his hand was raised above her flaming red bottom. His hand descended of its
own lingering will though the blow wasn’t hard.

“Keep going,” she urged.

She liked it? Jimmy lay back on the bed and put his hands
over his face. What had he done? What had she provoked him into doing? He felt
her weight lift off his legs and settle on the bed next to him. Her hand found
his crotch. She lowered the zipper and freed his limp cock.

“Don’t you like discipline?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“I thought you wanted to spank me.”

“No,” Jimmy admitted. “I wanted to make you angry, afraid.”

“You made me very horny,” she purred.

She lowered her head toward his cock.

“Don’t,” he protested and pushed her head away.

“You don’t like oral sex either?” she asked.

Of course he liked oral sex, Jimmy thought. He was just
confused. Too confused to think.

“Do you want me to masturbate for you?”

The voice reached him from a distance. What the heck.

“Sure,” he agreed.

The woman lay back on the bed beside him and spread her
legs.

“You can look,” she invited.

Where was Aggie?

Jimmy turned his head and watched as the woman put her hand
between her legs. He should be aroused, incredibly aroused. He loved to watch
his weekly lay pleasure herself, though he usually finished the job himself.
The woman’s hand began to circle over Aggie’s crotch. His Aggie’s. God, he
wanted her back. She wasn’t faking. Her arousal was wet and hot. She drew a
moist fingerful to her lips, then offered the next to him. He shook his head.

Aggie’s nipples had peaked to hard buds and gooseflesh
skimmed across her belly. Aggie’s free hand gripped the sheet as the fingers of
her other hand drew her toward climax. But Aggie wasn’t here. The climax shook
her to red painted toenails. She shivered for a long moment then turned to him.

“Let me make you come,” she offered.

Jimmy gave in to despair. Aggie wasn’t here. If this
impostor wanted to jerk him off, let her. He lay back on the bed.

“Go ahead,” he said wearily. “Use your hand.”

He closed his eyes and thought about the real Aggie, the
Aggie he wanted, the Aggie who was and wasn’t in his bed right now. He pictured
her squeezing his cock as the unseen hand was. Her fingers twined in his pubic
curls and tugged them teasingly. His cock lifted and he shifted his buttocks to
a straighter angle.

“That’s better,” Aggie’s voice coaxed. Not Aggie’s voice.

“Don’t say anything,” he instructed.

As long as he kept his eyes closed. As long as she didn’t
talk. He imagined Aggie’s angry laughing eyes. The fingers tightened on his
cock and began to move, skillfully squeezing and stretching. It felt good. The
pace quickened. He released himself into the moment. The first climax came
quickly.

“Keep going,” he ordered, his eyes still closed.

“Was that…”

“Don’t talk,” he interrupted.

Anything to keep the illusion. He imagined himself poised
over Aggie’s inviting body, her eyes smiling at him as he lowered himself into
her. The hand kept pace with his growing arousal, squeezing and milking him
with professional dexterity. Not his Aggie’s hand. She would be tentative. Too
tight sometimes, then not tight enough. He shifted back to the image of himself
lowering into Aggie’s body. He rocked his hips gently and again the hand on his
cock adjusted smoothly. The second orgasm was stronger and lasted most of a
minute.

“Again,” Jimmy gasped. “Is your hand too tired? Don’t say
anything, just stop when you want to.”

The hand lifted and Jimmy sighed. His cock was still rock
hard. Her weight shifted. Another hand settled on his well oiled shaft. She had
switched to her left hand. The image of Aggie came easily to Jimmy now. He
relived the videotape of her with Richard, trying to time his climax to her
angry outburst.

“Harder,” he ordered the servicing hand.

He was almost there. The hand tightened obligingly and just
as Aggie’s fist swung down to the desktop, Jimmy came. Her fist swung again and
again as his fluids pumped out over his chest and the hand milked him hard.
Finally he opened his eyes.

Tears poured from the not-Aggie’s eyes. They mingled with
the cum on his chest and he wondered how long she had been crying. The woman
rose and picked up her clothes. He thought about protesting, but was too
exhausted. The ordeal of the day’s waiting combined with the release of three
orgasms had drained him. She went into the adjoining bathroom and a moment later
he heard the shower. He had shot his cum all over her, he remembered. What if
she really was Aggie, he thought. Would she mind?

By the time she came out of the bathroom, Jimmy was awake.
His head had cleared. He knew he had to break this enigma tonight. She might
not come back. Not after he had spanked her. Maybe not now that she knew he
could come three times without a pause. He knew he was too much for most women,
for any woman.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he apologized to the woman who
wore Aggie’s skin.

“It’s all right,” she smiled shyly.

With her hair towel dried and no makeup, she looked achingly
young and vulnerable. She looked just like Aggie.

“Aggie,” he whispered softly.

“Yes,” the woman answered.

He held out his arms. She stepped into them and melted into
his embrace, molding herself to his planes.

“Aggie?” he whispered into her hair.

She stepped back out of his arms, her eyes glistening.

“I’m going to go now, Jimmy.”

“Will you come back tomorrow night?”

“Yes.”

“Do you promise?” he asked, hating himself for begging.

“I promise.” She held three fingers over her heart and
grinned and for a moment she was Aggie, the real Aggie.

After even the fragrance of her had dissipated, Jimmy left
the bedroom. He walked to the living room and turned on the VCR. He fell asleep
moments later as his Aggie pounded her fist on his desk.

Angela told the taxi driver to go anywhere for thirty
minutes, then to take her back to the corner of Robson and Denman. As they
wound through the blustery rain soaked streets of Vancouver, her tears slowly
gave way to determination. Jimmy was a man in torment. Her sister was unhappy
and confused. Angela’s deception had done far more harm than she had ever
envisioned. She knew she would not be able to last nine more nights. The
hundred twenty thousand dollars was out of her reach.