Stake Out

STAKE OUT …A ribbon of white heat ripped through her as the officer ran his oh-so-skillful hands along the under side of her arms, tickling the sensitive area, and leaving fire in their wake. All her skin receptors fired when he placed both hands on her breasts, lightly squeezing then tenderly kneading them. Try as she might, Irma couldn’t suppress the moan of pleasure, and she felt her clit swell in response to his touch. Irma knew she should stop him, knew this was wrong, but she didn’t want him to stop. This man did it for her like nothing she could have imagined. Every other sexual experience of her life now felt like a mere appetizer for what she felt would be her filet mignon here. She bit her lip, trying to hold at bay any other moans she might have a problem controlling. This man’s body felt so damn good, and she felt her juices rushing, and Irma prepared herself for the scenario yet to come. Chuckling softly in her ear, his hot, sensual breath sending shivers up the back of her neck, Wray whispered, “You like that, don’t you? I can tell. Are you wet yet? Let me check.” Moving slowly down her body with his roughened hands, he spanned her stomach. Irma licked her lips in anticipation. She felt vulnerable but strangely unviolated knowing, in the back of her mind, she’d planned this seduction with her excessive speed. Irma had often fantasized about being seduced by a brawny cop and Wray Slade. Now she was living a merging of those fantasies…

ALSO BY VELVET VEERS Companionship Inc. Book I: Cinder-un-rella Book II: Hearts Afire Book III: Double-Dare Claire Road Warriors Inc. Book I: Thunder’s Road Book II: Fat Boy’s Legend Book III: Harley’s Desire Virtual Reality Inc. Book I: Project Temptation Book II: Stake Out Book III: Virtual Hearts Club

VIRTUAL FANTASY INC. BOOK II:

STAKE OUT BY VELVET VEERS

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

STAKE OUT AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2003 by Debi McMartin & Vickie Wakely ISBN 1-59279-159-X Cover Art © 2003 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To Irma Chan, who has consistently believed in my writing ability from the first…a true friend indeed.

STAKE OUT

CHAPTER 1

“Hi, sweetie, you wanna party?” The woman stood outside The Blue Moon in her second-skin latex skirt and tube top, with four-inch platform heels that made her lean forward to keep her balance. “No, thanks, but I could use some information.” The woman sidled up to Wray Slade, slithering against him like a snake in heat, then placed her hand on his muscular chest and rubbed. “Darlin’, all I got is time, but you know the saying—time is money? Well, that’s especially true in my line of work. Now you come with Desiree here and I’ll make you feel good—real good—as good as you’ve ever felt in your life. I’ll even use my ultra tight muscle works on you—been practicing long and hard to work it on somebody special like you. And by the way, I like conversation while I’m pleasuring someone.” “How much?” Wray asked, his libido heating up to full throttle against his will. Desiree stepped closer, gave his ear a little flick of her tongue and 1

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whispered, “Sugar, you’re so handsome, I’d just about do you for free. But I got overhead problems right now and can’t do any freebies. Let’s just say a Franklin should do it.” No woman in her right mind had ever called him handsome. Frightening. Scary. Tough. Maybe even dangerous, but never handsome. He needed to disengage and walk in the opposite direction, as fast as his Nikes would take him. Too long without sex could make the mind and body do crazy things, and he wasn’t about to let himself do anything crazy. He’d had quite enough insanity in his life, thank you very much, Desiree. Instead, he heard himself say, “That sounds reasonable. Let’s go.” Desiree leaned toward him, thrusting her size double-Ds on his chest. She stuck her tongue out, wiggling it like a snake. “You will not be sorry, sugar. I assure you I’m worth every penny.” Wray took a long, hard look at her and frowned. The pancake makeup and dark blue eye shadow that extended to her brow line concealed her age. “How old are you?” “Sugar, old enough to have my techniques honed to a fine art. Old enough to sniff a good man when she sees one. Young enough to still get her juices flowing and enjoy the fruits of her labor.” As she turned and walked away, Wray watched Desiree’s ass swing from side to side. Oh, yeah, he thought. More than worth the money, especially when it’s company money. Wray followed Desiree to the apartment building beside the bar and trailed her up the stairs to her room, never taking his eyes off her fine, ageless ass. Garbage littered the hallway and paint peeled off the walls. The place was the dump from hell. Opening the five deadbolt locks to her door, she stood with the door open while a ferocious looking dog jumped up, planting his paws on her shoulders and licking her face. She affectionately rubbed behind his ears, “Hi, Killer. Okay, you can get down, boy. Yeah, I love you, too.” Killer then turned his attention to Wray, baring his teeth and 2

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growling. Wray stood still as a statue, not daring to move until he figured out if he was about to be Killer’s next meal. Desiree calmed the dog. “Knock it off, Killer. This nice man’s about to pay for your dog food. Be nice to him. Now go lay down.” The dog obediently circled a couple of times and lay on the floor, tucking his head between his paws and whining. “Come on in. Don’t mind Killer. But I’ll warn you now, he doesn’t tolerate anyone hitting me.” Nodding in affirmation, Wray walked into the room while Desiree sauntered up and began to unbutton his shirt. He looked around the clean, uncluttered apartment. There weren’t many homey touches scattered around the place and no pictures hung on the wall. Boxes were stacked in one corner of the room, obviously unpacked. She had either just moved in or she was getting ready to move out. He cleared his throat and grabbed her hands. “Ahh, can I use your bathroom?” “Sure, sugar. Right in there.” She pointed to the only door in the place other than the one through which they’d just walked. Wray shut the door and took several deep breaths. He could do this. It was important for him to go through with it. Whatever it took. Lives were at stake. This operation was important. He heard the bluesy sound of Ray Charles as he walked out of the bathroom. He walked over to the only chair in the room and sat. The bright flowers were faded and the arms of the chair were threadbare, but he could be thankful it appeared clean. Desiree began a strip routine in front of him. His penis responded in kind, pressing against his pants with an urgency all its own. Down boy, he thought. Fred obviously had a mind of his own. It had been a long time since he’d been in the sandbox and he wanted to play. Now. Flexibility must be her middle name, Wray thought, or she’s double-jointed. As nonchalantly as possible, he shifted his dick around in his pants, trying to make room for expansion. 3

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Desiree unhooked her black lace bra, letting it fall to the floor, then reached under her breasts, squeezing them with her hands, her long white throat arching back. Damn, Wray thought, she would have to have beautiful breasts— and they look real, too. Moving one hand to her mouth, she stuck two fingers in and sucked them. Slowly and provocatively, she pulled them from her fire engine red lips and rubbed one nipple between her fingers, making it wet and shiny, a pink protruding bud that he wanted desperately to pull with his teeth. If she didn’t stop this torture now, he’d need a towel to wipe the drool from his mouth, or he’d jump her. Neither choice held appeal, but he was hot, charged and he definitely needed some kind of release. It had been so long since he’d been wrapped up in the warm body of a woman that he’d forgotten what it was like to get turned on. It was all coming back real fast, though. “Desiree, we need to talk,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I need some information from you and I’m willing to pay you for it—and pay you well.” Oh man, she’s doing that wet-fingers-in-the-ruby-lips thing again. Desiree popped her fingers from her mouth and seductively slid them down her body while writhing in rhythm to the music. He watched her hands as they slid over her stomach, across her belly button, and lower still to the top of her underwear, then headed straight to her pussy. He felt his face heat up, and he wanted nothing more than to pull off her panties and bury his face in her thatch, taste her musky feminine juices and roll his tongue over her clit, sucking it like an oyster fresh from the sea. Swallowing hard, he tried to regain his equilibrium, keep his mind on the task at hand—and tried to remember to breathe. His erection now painfully strained against his pants and Wray moved to try to get 4

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some relief. Desiree’s fingers were buried in her pussy, and they glistened as she pulled them to her mouth. She inserted them between those luscious lips again, obviously savoring the taste of her juices. His mouth watered as he watched. Hating to break the sexual momentum, Wray abruptly stood. “Wait! Wait!” After grabbing a shirt from the couch, he threw it at Desiree. “Put that on.” When she hesitated, he commanded, “Now!” He pulled out his wallet while she put on the shirt, then handed her a hundred dollar bill. “This is for your time…now all I need is information. I hear your pimp has connections for people who want to buy Ecstasy? Desiree frowned and threw up her hands, backing away from Wray. “Man, I don’t know nothing about none of that, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you what I know. I don’t relish the idea of waking up dead. He’d kill me for sure. You a cop?” “Hell, no. Just someone trying to make a living. I hear if I had some product, he’d be my contact.” “You didn’t hear it from me.” Desiree began to dress. “I think it’s about time for you to leave.” He pulled out another hundred and laid it on the table. “I’m not asking you to introduce me or anything. I don’t even want to talk to your pimp. All I want to know is who he does business with. I believe in dealing with the top man.” “Mister, you might as well get out your pocket knife and slit my throat now cuz that’s where I’m gonna find myself if I give you what you’re asking for. Throat slit, dead in a dumpster…yep, that would be where I’d wake up dead in the mornin’. I want a little more livin’ under my belt before I’m ready to bite the dust, or be last week’s trash. Better go elsewhere for your information, cuz you ain’t gonna get none from this working girl.” 5

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Desiree stared at his wallet and nervously chewed her bottom lip. Then he pulled out three hundred more dollars and laid it on the table. “Now here’s five hundred dollars for the pretty little lady, five hundred dollars your pimp doesn’t need to know nothing about. All you gotta do is give me a name. You can write it down if you want to. You don’t even have to say it. Just give me a name.” For a moment she closed her eyes and, after opening them, Desiree said, “I’ll give you only a first name. Malcolm. He lives in Addison at Whiffletree Square. I’ve been there a couple of times with Tyrone when he had business to attend to.” “Anything else?” Desiree shook her head and snatched up the money. “That’s all I got, man.” “Thanks for your help, Desiree.” She gave him a long, lustful look. “Too bad it had to end this way, good-lookin’. We could’ve had something good together.” Wray let himself out the door. * * * Irma Rivera walked up the courthouse steps, as ready as she’d ever be for the trial. Pulling an all-nighter to make sure she had all her bases covered, poring over the papers for the hundredth time, she finally felt comfortable. Today’s court session involved an alleged murderer, whom Irma planned to prove to the jury didn’t do the crime. Or at least make sure they had a reasonable doubt, enabling them to make a unanimous not-guilty decision. They were well underway in the trial and today would be her turn at cross-examination. If she was lucky, someone would slip up and give her a loophole to get her client off. Sad thing about the whole deal was Irma felt the guy was guilty, and deep down, she didn’t want him to go free. But every person deserved a fair trial, she’d been appointed to this case and, damn it, she was going to do the best job she knew how. Irma couldn’t do it any other way. That’s how she was built. But that didn’t 6

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mean she didn’t hate her job at times. “The defense calls Wray Slade to the stand,” Irma stated in an audible voice. She watched Mr. Slade approach the witness stand, frowning at the bank of attorneys. It was common knowledge he hated defense attorneys, and rightly so. Being a detective, defense attorneys were the number one enemy to a man who hunted down criminals. She liked that about him—his dedication and commitment to doing his job well. Too bad they were on opposite sides of the fence. This man could be interesting. Wray walked with the swagger of a man’s man, legs apart, arms held away from his sides, allowing the bulky muscles room to move. He slowed for a moment and stared at her with his murky brown eyes that reminded her of the Trinity River back home. Irma could feel the electricity radiating from him, even from ten feet away. Something about this man appealed to her in a raw, sexual way—and it was disconcerting to her. The sad part was they would never connect, with him hating defense attorneys as much as he did. Irma watched as he walked up the steps to the stand, appreciating his bodybuilder’s thick neck, broad shoulders, narrow waist, and round butt. That ass was what women’s dreams were made of—hers to be exact. She watched as he placed his hand on the Bible and listened to his deep sexy voice respond, “I do” to the bailiff asking would he tell the truth. “You may be seated,” the bailiff announced. The judge said, “Miss Rivera, you may start your questioning of this witness.” “Thank you, your honor.” Irma stood, straightened her suit jacket, walked toward the witness stand, and looked Wray square in the eyes. For all that beautiful, hardened body, his face was a different matter all together. Hardened, lined—what was that under his intense gaze? Could it possibly be 7

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leeriness? But of what? Irma’s job was to find his vulnerable spot, his weak point, his Achilles’ heel, and play it for all it was worth, make him shrivel on the witness stand. After all, winning the case was a lot more important than anything sexual they could ever have. But she couldn’t quite bring up the tiger in her when she looked into those ebony eyes. They held such depth that everything else disappeared, including her own resolve to be tough. She suddenly saw much more than an incredibly powerful man. Her heart lurched. Oh, God, just what she didn’t need. Irma cleared her throat and tried to cleanse her mind of sexual thoughts. “Detective Slade, is it true you were the arresting officer of the defendant on May third, 2003?” “Yes, “ he said, without breaking his gaze. “Tell me, detective, did you use excessive force while apprehending this defendant?” “I object to this line of questioning. Just who is on trial here, counselor—me or the defendant?” Wray asked. “Your Honor, the D.A. pointed out it was necessary to use force to apprehend my client because he was a danger to society.” “The witness will answer the question.” Irma smiled smugly. “Thank you, your honor. Now, Detective Slade, would you say it was imperative to use excessive force while you performed your duty? Was my client resistant in some way?” Wray sighed, as if annoyed by having to testify. “No, counselor, he did not resist. I wouldn’t call my maneuvers to apprehend him excessive force. I’d call it necessary force to get the job done. In my line of work, it wouldn’t be prudent or safe to allow a criminal the opportunity to fight back.” Irma walked to the witness stand, determined to win the duel in the ring, caring much more for winning this personal war than getting her client off. “Mr. Slade, that is your personal opinion. Semantics have 8

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become your sword inside the courtroom, and you’re quite good at your choice of words to downplay your cruelty. But we still come back to your continual use of excessive force. Bottom line—by the word of the law, which is the last word—you abused my client.” Wray shrugged his shoulders, as if in defeat. “Whatever you say. I see this is one battle I’m not going to win.” Irma moved away, her chin rising saucily in the air. “Thank you, detective. Your witness.” Irma walked back to her seat and wilted into it. She felt like a snake that had just slithered back into its hole. And at that moment, she wanted only to shed her skin. She didn’t like herself any more, hating what she’d become.

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CHAPTER 2

Testifying for the trial had chewed up most of Wray’s one day off. Damn it to hell. He squinted at the sun and decided he had a good three hours of daylight left. Walking down the courthouse steps two at a time—the faster he got away from there, the better he’d feel—he heard someone call his name. Wray stopped and turned. Shit. Irma, flushed and breathless, chased him down the steps. “What in the hell does the bitch want now?” he cursed under his breath. He couldn’t help noticing how her perfectly sized breasts bounced as she raced down the stairs. Stopping at the step above where Wray politely waited, she trained on him at eye level. A little voice in his head warned, Dynamite comes in small packages. Wray heard the saying all his life, and now he was looking at it—in the flesh. He lifted an eyebrow, a silent invitation for her to speak. 10

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“Wray, I just wanted to let you know I’m really sorry about that fiasco in the courtroom. I…I guess I was grasping at straws, a little desperate.” That’s interesting, he thought. He’d had no idea they were on an intimate, first-name basis. Getting a grip on his patience, he took a deep breath, needing very much for his voice to be at his command and under control. “Nice try, Irma. If you could’ve come up with a video tape, it might’ve just worked.” * * * Irma tensed and remarked a little harshly, “Well, if you didn’t have a reputation for strong-arming everyone you handcuff, maybe it wouldn’t have been necessary for me to go to such elaborate lengths.” “It comes with my size.” Irma suddenly felt flustered, a strange state for her to find herself in, and she couldn’t think of a biting comeback. For that matter, she didn’t seem to be able to form a complete thought in the presence of Mr. Wray Brawn. Visions of him rough-housing a woman in bed sent her heart bumping in her chest and spiral-like thrills coursing through her. Her nipples immediately became taut with the thought, and she looked down in chagrin at them bursting through the flimsy material of her blouse. Wray glanced at them, and the heat of a blush crawl up her neck— he had to know she was turned on. How humiliating…somehow she had to wrestle her control back. * * * Wray noticed her exotic brown eyes dilate as her nipples protruded against the shiny blouse material. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on those mounds at that moment. What have we here? he thought. Too bad he hated lawyers or he might be willing to take this little scenario one step further—at least into the closest bedroom. Whoa, Nellie, hold your horses, man. It’s been way too long. Freddie, 11

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you’re giving me hallucinations because of your deprivation anxiety. We are not, I repeat, not going to bed with this woman, or any other woman for that matter. We are done with the female sex. Remember how long it took us to get over Jessica? We ain’t going there again, Fred, so you might as well go back to sleep—for the winter. Better yet, go find yourself a cave. So what could she possibly be wanting from him? Could be Miss Prim-and-Proper defense lawyer has some hidden secrets and desires, maybe some long dormant sexual fantasies of her own that she’s playing out in her own mind. Clearing her throat, Irma said, “I have to be going, but I just wanted you to know I’m truly sorry.” Wray watched as she turned, her blue-black hair swinging to hit him in the face. Then she ran back up the steps, giving him a bird’s eye view of her fantastic ass. And he’d just thought he was a breast man— until he got a lowdown on her perfectly round-almost-not-there butt. Must be Freddie’s influence over him. Chuckling to himself, Wray continued down the steps. He now knew where the last three hours of his day off would be spent—Virtual Fantasy, Inc. * * * Embarrassed beyond belief, Irma made a b-line for the bathroom. Staring herself down in the mirror, she asked, “What in the hell has gotten into you, woman?” She thought about Wray and her intense attraction to him. No, attraction was not the word—obsession was more like it. Thoughts and images of him had unmercifully taunted her every minute of the day— and especially at night, since she’d first met him when the trial began. And today’s encounter hadn’t helped at all. Drenching a paper towel with cold water, she draped it on her neck. What she needed was some good, old-fashioned, hot, steamy sex with him, until sated; then she could get him off her mind. Unfortunately, that was something she could never have…would never let herself 12

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have. Wray wasn’t interested in her and they lived in two different worlds. Hers in Coppell with the rich and famous, and his with the dangerous and scum of the earth on the streets. The only kink in her cure for what ailed her was she had no man handy to have wild, unbridled sex with. Maybe she’d give one of her friends a call and go out man hunting tonight. Riding the elevator down to the parking garage, Irma stepped into the dark interior corridor and searched in her bag for the keys as she walked. As if out of nowhere, she heard the squeal of tires and saw the blinding headlights of a car bearing down on her. Jumping out of the way the instant before impact, she fell hard on her knees, the content of her purse flying. Her heart thudding wildly at her close call, she brushed herself off, the scraped knees screaming out to her in pain. Then she scrambled to pick up her stuff and crammed it back into her purse. Damn reckless drivers. Everybody’s in such a rush to get nowhere these days. Righting herself and dusting off the front of her clothes, she looked around the parking area to see if anyone had seen what happened, and maybe got a description of the car and the driver. Not seeing anyone, she walked to her car with trembling legs and got in. Grabbing the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white, she breathed deeply, realizing what a close call she’d had. Slowly her body relaxed and Irma started the car. She needed a drink. Badly. Irma dug her cell phone out of her purse and punched in the number for her best friend, Rosemary. “Hello,” answered Rosemary cheerfully. “Hey, girl, thought you might want to hang tonight. Are you up for a night on the town?” Irma asked, her voice still a little shaky. “Sounds good. I’ll get a sitter for the kids. Cullen’s out of town on business for a few days. You sound kind of funny, Irma. Are you okay?” “I just had a little almost-hit-and-run scare. Don’t know what’s 13

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behind it, if anything, but I have to admit, I’m a little spooked. I’ll tell you all about it tonight. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up? Or if it’s easier for you to go tomorrow night, we can make it then. Will Cullen be back tomorrow?” “Yes, his flight comes in at ten in the morning.” “Then what do you say we make him take his shift with the kids and we can go out tomorrow. It has been a while since we’ve had one of our heart-to-hearts anyway, and I’m desperately in need.” “Sounds great, Irma. What time?” “I’ll pick you up around eight.” Smiling, Irma punched the end button on her cell. She and Rosemary had found it difficult to make time for each other since she was practicing law fulltime and Rosemary was kept busy with Cullen and the kids. Rosemary and Cullen had a fairy tale whirlwind romance. Irma couldn’t help but envy the happiness Rosemary found with him. She was thrilled for her best friend, but she also wanted the same for herself. Maybe one day, she thought, sighing wistfully. No one who watched her practicing law would ever believe she cared about anything beyond the courtroom doors. She ate, lived and breathed for her cases, had graduated number one in her law school class, and was on peer review and legal journal her last year there. But under the carefully tailored and cultivated professional exterior, lay a seething cauldron of unbridled passion. She read romance novels— erotic romance novels—by the dozens, soaking in her Jacuzzi for hours under lavender bubbles, fantasizing about the newest hero in the palms of her hands. Maybe tomorrow night she’d meet the prince of her latest dream and they’d ride off into the fantasy sunset, never having to go back to work. Lucrative as her defense work was, she must confess it felt dirty all the same. Irma never felt like she could get clean, even with two showers a day. * * * 14

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Safely inside her apartment, deadbolts fastened, she saw the blinking red light on the phone, indicating a new voice-mail. She listened to a computerized mechanical voice threaten her. “You barely managed to escape my wrath today. You get that murderer off and you die.” Click. Irma played the message again. Her heart thudded against her chest walls, her body shaking uncontrollably. She had to get hold of herself and clear her mind so she could figure out what to do. There was no doubt someone had targeted her in the parking garage. They would obviously go to any lengths to get the accused behind bars. But what should she do about it? She knew she needed to call the police, but would it make things worse? Until she could get a handle on what was happening, going to the police might very well cost Irma her life if she provoked her unknown caller. Okay, she had already presented her case in court. Tomorrow she was scheduled to present closing arguments and the jury would make a decision. I need a drink to calm my frazzled nerves. Maybe I should go to the police. After all, that’s what she would recommend a client to do in a similar situation. Then why was her gut instinct screaming to stay away from the police? Her mother had always told her if it ever came down to your head versus your gut, pick your gut every time—it’s far more accurate. Maybe she should call Rosemary. But first she’d take her glass of wine in the Jacuzzi for a long soak, and hopefully wash away the tension binding her neck muscles. Irma sipped her chilled white zinfandel as she ran the water. She watched the bubbles foam and pop around the tub. The bathroom was her favorite room in the house, her very own oasis in this crazy world. She could close the door, light her vanilla candles, breathe in the scents, and transport to another place and time. Letting her clothes fall to the floor, Irma stepped into the perfect 15

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temperature of the roiling waters. What dream lover would she conjure up tonight? The image of Wray Slade flitted across her mind. No! She would not allow herself to fantasize about a man who disdained her very existence. But just the thought of him had already jump-started her juices. Leaning against the bath pillow, water up to her chin, Irma let her hand slide over her flat, taut belly, then her inner thighs. Kent, her dream warrior, ever present and ready to please her, made his grand and glorious appearance on his white horse. Irma walked up to him, fully regaled in her own gossamer medieval attire, her long raven hair flowing down her back, arms outstretched toward him. The knight lifted his head gear and Wray Slade smiled, this time a smile of delight and longing, not the condescending, patronizing smirk she’d gotten from him outside the court house when she ate crow and apologized to him. Oh, well, if she couldn’t control her fantasies, she might as well enjoy them. Wray carried her inside the castle, down the long corridor and up the stairs to the boudoir, gently placing her on the enormous bed in the center of the room. Irma watched him as he shed his armor, piece by piece, until he was down to his undergarments. His penis jutted magnificently from the thin cotton garment. Oh, wow, was she in for a treat. He peeled off the remainder of their clothing, letting the garments fall to the floor. He stood in front of her, his expression full of desire, eyes glittering in anticipation of the love-making session to come. Somehow, Irma felt as she had lived this scenario before, sometime, someplace in her long distance past. Her heart knew this perfectly splendid maleness that stood before her in all its glory and manhood. She knew what his shaft would feel like as it slid deep into the recesses of her being, where it belonged, and how it would send her to the apex of her sexual threshold. And she knew this was and would be as good as it gets—primal, feral sex——the ultimate of what a human 16

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being could experience in this world. True to her body’s knowing, Wray carefully slid on top of her, as if they had done this a thousand times. He lowered his head to her nipple, sucking gently then tugging it harder between his teeth. She let out a moan and stretched, taking his penis in her hands and stroking it in a way she knew would bring him pleasure. “Ahhhh, darling, you’ve always known just how to touch me to make me feel like a new man. Keep going, Irma.” Irma lifted her buttocks and slid his penis between her legs, loving the way the tip hit the back wall of her vagina. Grabbing his cheeks with her hands she pushed him into her harder as she brought up her hips, and he thrust down with a grunt, his penis so expanded it rubbed her clit at the same time the tip hit her back wall again. Oh, my God, she was going to come fast…and she could feel him stiffen. “Not yet, baby. It’s been too long and I want to make this last,” he yelled. “Hang on, we’re going for a wild ride.” Bucking harder and faster, sweat pouring from both of them, Irma felt the tension building, and finally exploded, a thousand stars falling around her. He rode in right after her, spurting into her with abandon. “Oh, my God,” she screamed, digging her nails into his back, feeling the next climax building. “I’m coming again, Wray. Don’t stop now.” Even in its downsized state, his shaft hit her in just the right places, and the second orgasm was even more intense than the first. Irma was in Tantric heaven.

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CHAPTER 3

Wray walked in Virtual Fantasy, Inc. and winked at the receptionist. “Hi, doll, do you have an opening for a walk-in today for a regular? I don’t have an appointment, but I sure could use a session.” “Long time no see. Certainly we can fit one of our best customers in. As a matter-of-fact, we just had a cancellation. Today’s your lucky day. Come on back with me and I’ll get you prepped and suited up.” I would love to, sweetheart, but you’re married and I don’t do married women. “That’s great, Sandra. Can’t thank you enough.” Sandra showed him to the first changing room. “You know the drill. Frank’ll be waiting for you at the booth when you’re ready.” “Thanks, doll.” Wray removed all his clothes except his briefs and rubbed the special lotion into his skin, then pulled on the sex body suit. He loved the concept of virtual fantasy because you could have everything just the way you liked it—woman, sex, and no strings attached. What more could a guy ask for? 18

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Inside the booth, Frank was setting up the equipment. “Hi Frank.” “Wray, my man, long time no see. Glad you dropped by.” “Yeah, I’ve been working a lot lately. Too much.” “Too much of that’ll kill ya. You want the same scenario as usual or are you going to change up today? “Nope. I’ll stick with what works for me. Set up the court scene.” Wray climbed on the bed and relaxed while Frank hooked up the electrode sensors from the computer to the body suit. Frank grabbed the helmet, but before he placed it over Wray’s head he asked, “Wray, I have a new technique at this office and I was wondering if you would like to be one of our guinea pigs? The helmet fits tight on your cranium and the special sensors pick up your brain waves of the woman you’d like to have your fantasy about. All you need to do is think about someone you’d like to be with in the scenario. Irma immediately came to the forefront of his mind—that image of her running down those steps that he couldn’t seem to shake. “Sure, Frank. That sounds great. Let’s give it a try.” “I’ll go get the new headset,” said Frank. Within minutes, he returned and fitted the helmet onto Wray’s head. He clipped the sensors into the main unit, and a piece from Eric Clapton—“Lovely Tonight”—began to play through the headset and Wray relaxed into his fantasy mode. Wray stood at the attorney’s table while the exotic Phillipino woman walked by to the witness stand. No one else would be in the courtroom today. They were all alone—and the doors were locked, judge’s orders. Since Wray and Irma had not been able to resolve their differences in the judge’s chambers, he’d ordered that they work it out behind the courtroom doors, alone and unattended. It was that or twenty-four hours in the clanker for contempt of court. They both quickly chose the former. She took a seat in the witness stand and her gaze locked into his. 19

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Those luminous, expressive eyes were almost his undoing at that moment, but he managed to maintain control. He had to show her who was boss. Wray stepped toward her, closing the few feet between them. “Raise your right hand.” Irma obediently raised her right hand and placed the other one on the Bible in front of her while Wray continued, “Do you solemnly swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?” “I do,” whispered Irma, her voice barely audible. “Would you state your name for the court, ma’am?” “My name is Irma Rivera.” “Tell me, Irma, is it true you’ve been cross-examining me in an unnecessarily rough manner during this trial?” “Yes, this is true,” Irma admitted. “Would you kindly tell the court, in your own words, why you have resorted to such harsh measures, repeatedly.” Irma cleared her throat before she spoke, but her voice still cracked. “I don’t know.” “Come now, counselor,” said Wray, enjoying having her over a barrel, even if there were no witnesses. “You must have some logical reason as to why you see fit to humiliate me in such a crude manner in front of the court and everyone present.” “I…I guess because I find you very attractive.” He walked around to the opening of the witness stand and moved in closer to her. “I’m afraid you’ll have to expand on that statement to clarify yourself. If you find me so attractive, why would you constantly harass me?” Irma licked her lips before speaking. “Because I want you so bad, I can’t think straight when you’re on the stand. Because all I can think of when I stand there and look at you is what it would be like to fuck your brains out. Because you scare the hell out of me. “And that, detective, makes you a pesky distraction. I can’t keep my 20

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mind on the task at hand, which would be getting my client off the hook, when I’m thinking about jumping your bones every time I so much as walk into a room you’re in.” She grabbed his suit coat and abruptly pulled him toward her, locking her lips on his for a long, luxurious kiss. She released his mouth just as suddenly, her hands moving to his tie to loosen the knot and bring it over his head. Unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt, she kissed his neck, running her tongue over his pulse points, moaning with enjoyment as she went. His body flooded with massive releases of adrenaline, not unlike the time he’d had a gun pointed straight at his heart. This scenario could be just as wicked. He shook with the power surge and the desire rushing through him. Grabbing both sides of his shirt, Irma ripped it open, sending a spray of buttons flying through the courtroom, then raked her fingernails down his chest, ending at the waistband. She bit one of his nipples, twirling and flicking her tongue around it, while she unbuttoned his belt and pants. The sensation made his penis grow harder and his groin ache. Getting up from the stand, she turned him around and flung him into the chair as she removed his shoes, pants and underwear. Kneeling before him, she grabbed his penis and lowered her mouth over the head, drawing it deep into her mouth to suck and fondle. “Unbelievable. Incredible. Don’t stop. Ohmigod, don’t stop.” He was past no return and grabbed her head to change the rhythm. She picked the tie off the floor and slipped the loop over one of his hands, pulling the knot tight. She moved his hands behind him and bound them together with the end of the tie. She lowered her mouth back over his penis and smiled at him with gleeful abandon. Gently she combed his shaft with the edges of her teeth, then lifted her head. “Tell me what you want.” “What? I want you back down there doing exactly what you were 21

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doing.” “Oh, you like my technique, do you? Well, sorry, this is not your day to get your way.” “You asked me what I wanted,” Wray whined. Irma stood and removed her suit jacket, letting it drop to the floor. “Yes, I asked you what you wanted. I didn’t say I’d do it. There’s a difference.” Her arms moved up to her shirt buttons. She unbuttoned it, then moved on to her skirt. He drank in her every move, and she watched his still-hard dick bob as each button made its way through its slit. Unzipping her skirt an inch at a time had him panting hard and licking his lips. Irma continued to torture him by slowly removing her bra. Her nipples stood out in proud points, and he watched as she expertly rolled them between her fingers, then pinched them so hard they turned a crimson red. Sliding her hands over her stomach, she grabbed each side of her underwear and eased down the panties, one side at a time, revealing small portions of skin as she went. Sweat broke out on his brow and his top lip. Wray seemed to have stopped breathing altogether as she wiggled her panties to her ankles and stood to reveal a groomed line of curly black hair. The air whooshed out of him as she pulled her lips apart for him to take a good look of her inner folds. After wetting a finger with her tongue, she placed the finger on her clit and let him watch as she began to pleasure herself, rolling her clit between her fingers as it become engorged from the stimulation. This was the sexiest sight he’d ever seen in his life and he never remembered being this turned on. Irma, under her sleek professional demeanor was a hottie—a woman who needed a good lay. And Wray had every intention of being the man to provide her with that. Moaning with the pleasure she provided herself, Irma moved her hips to the 22

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rhythm of a good hard dick in her pussy instead of her finger. She heard him growl, so she asked, “What do you want?” “You. I want to fuck you. Now. Yesterday.” “A little overzealous, aren’t you? Maybe we need to teach you a little patience. So you want a good fucking, do you? Well, I’m in a generous mood today. You might just get what you want, since it’s your lucky day.” She moved her legs to each side of his and grabbed his penis. Placing the head along the edge of her lips, she ran it along the outside rim of her hole so their juices could mingle for co-lubrication. Lowering herself over his penis, she barely allowed him to penetrate her vagina before she pulled out. He groaned and she laughed, while placing the head in again and swallowing a little more of him inside of her aching canal. Suddenly, with no warning, she plunged down hard, engulfing him to the hilt. The swift move and shock of the sensation sucked the air from his lungs. She rode him hard and fast. Grabbing the end of the tie, she released his hands and placed them on one of her breasts. “Squeeze them, baby. They’re aching for your touch.” Wray began to play with them, trying to concentrate on fulfilling her desires instead of the wonderful way her pussy clutched his cock. “Harder,” Irma commanded. Never had Wray been with a woman who wanted sex so hard, so raw, and so passionate. He felt the end nearing and, as he pumped harder into her, Wray felt her body tense. “Come on, baby, come for me.” He took both cheeks of her ass in his hands and slammed her harder onto his penis. Burying her to the hilt, then raising her up to slap downward again, he could feel the velvet wall meet the head of his penis. He knew the sensation would take her over the top fast. Wanting to be ready, Wray looked deep into her eyes as she veered close to her climax. 23

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“Yes. Yes. Don’t stop. I’m almost there.” Wray felt her body tense as she grabbed his hair and pulled hard. The combination was too great for him and he let go with an orgasm that shook him to his roots. The beautiful sound of her scream at the same time assured him he had brought her to ultimate fulfillment the second he’d reached his. Bliss— in the form of a woman… Slowly, Eric Clapton’s throaty voice filtered into the headset as the fantasy ended. Wray opened his eyes to Frank grinning down at him. “Damn, man, are you trying to kill me?” Frank chuckled as he disconnected the probes from the body suit. “Thought this system would shake things up a bit. What’d you think of the new equipment?” “Please, God, let her really make love like that. Ha, as if that could happen. Thank God for VFI.” Frank laughed and said, “It ain’t gonna happen, man, ’cause there ain’t one alive that good.” “Well, buddy, I’ll just keep you in business.” As Wray walked out of Virtual Fantasy, Inc. and got into his car, he thought about what Frank had said. Irma was so damn reserved in her business suits, all tight and restrained. What would she be like in bed, he wondered. Would she be an uninhibited tiger woman like in the fantasy or more subdued like sex was a duty rather than a beautiful expression of love? He would never know because the lady hated his guts. Why she did, he didn’t have a clue, but often wondered. Wray didn’t have a date tonight and decided to make it an early night and headed straight home.

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CHAPTER 4

The next morning Irma awoke feeling tired and drained. She had slept fitfully, dreaming about someone chasing her. Taking a shower and choosing a conservative, black, pinstripe suit from the closet, she prepared herself for the day. Once at the courtroom, her client was brought in with handcuffs and she studied him as they removed them. Rosemary knew the client himself was not a threat to her. But, someone wanted him put away behind bars and she was the tool to set him free. That threatened someone enough to employ desperate measures—to get rid of Irma as revenge for freeing him, if that’s what it took. She stood for her closing arguments and pressed her point on the definition of beyond a reasonable doubt. The jury filed out of the courtroom and the waiting game was on. Calling her paralegal, Matt, she asked that the file be pulled on the victim’s family and friends and to place it on her desk. Maybe the clues were in there as to who was threatening her. 25

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Matt asked, “Is there a problem with the case?” “No. The jury is out on deliberation, but I had a threatening message on my voice mail at home last night and… Never mind.” “What? What were you going to say?” Matt pressed on. “Well, I’m sure it was just a coincidence, but someone almost plowed me down in the parking garage yesterday.” “My God, Irma. Have you told the police?” “I was trying to decide if I should.” “Why do you think you shouldn’t?” “They really don’t have anything to go on yet. Are there any messages or problems you need to discuss with me, Matt? Anything I need to know about?” “Nope. Everything is fine here. I’ve got everything under control. You be careful, though. There’s some lunatics out there.” Irma sighed. “I know. I guess I’ll start carrying my mace again.” She hung up the phone and briefly shut her eyes while gathering her courage. A deep, harsh voice from behind jolted her. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you just tell the person on the phone that you’ve been threatened? Excuse me for eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help but overhear.” Irma whirled around to face Wray. She stammered, “I…I did say…ah…someone left me a disturbing message on my phone at home.” “What did they say?” Angry with him for probing, she asked, “Were you not taught eavesdropping was rude?” “Yes, but in my business, it’s not polite to walk away from a crime waiting to happen. Sounds like you need a bodyguard for a while. What did they say to you?” “That if I didn’t lose this case, they’d kill me.” “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me your life has been 26

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threatened because of a case you’re trying and you didn’t report this to the police?” “Oh, give me a break, detective. So far, all I have is one voice mail. What could the police possibly do for me?” “Irma, this is serious. For one thing, they could file a report and put a watch out for you. That would give you some automatic immediate protection. Also, I want you to promise me you’ll contact me if you receive anymore threats.” He reached in his back pocket for his wallet and retrieved a business card, handing it to her. “Promise me, if you have any trouble or need me, you’ll give me a call on either of these numbers.” “Okay, but I’m sure everything will be fine.” The bailiff announced the jury’s return, and Irma walked back into the courtroom, anxiously awaiting the verdict, which might very well announce her death sentence. The juror stood and announced, “Not Guilty.” A loud roar of the crowd erupted and Irma stood speechless, staring at the jury. Her client grabbed and shook her hand hard, exclaiming at how she had given him a new lease on life. In terrified shock, she gathered her papers and stuffed them into her briefcase. Walking out of the courtroom, she watched the crowd, waiting for any possible danger. No one jumped out at her or tried to run her over on the way to the car. Irma sighed a deep breath of relief as she sank into the cool leather seat of her car. Maybe her stalker hadn’t yet been informed of the verdict. Her nerves were as tight as the strings on a bass guitar. What she needed was to get laid! But she didn’t have a boyfriend or even a bed buddy to call. Then she remembered Rosemary giving her a certificate to Virtual Fantasy, Inc. on her birthday. No time like the present to use it. She drove to Virtual Fantasy, Inc.’s office and announced herself. She filled out the paperwork and waited for the counselor to appear. A woman walked in with a clipboard and asked for her. “My name 27

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is Sandra, and I’ll be helping you today. I see you’ve requested a police scenario. I talked to Frank, our resident computer genius, and he has a generic program already in the system. All he needs from you is to pick your fantasy man from his collection in the computer. You can have your fantasy right now if you want.” “This is wonderful.” Irma felt like clapping her hands and jumping up and down in her seat like a small girl. “Please follow me and I’ll introduce you to Frank.” Frank sat mesmerized in front of a bank of computers and monitors as Irma approached. He turned and looked her way. “Hi, Irma. I’m Frank, and I’ll be hooking up the electrodes to your body suit and running the program that contains your scenario. Are you ready to tell me what kind of guy you prefer today?” “Let me see. I’d like someone tall and muscular. You know, a body builder type. With black hair and brown eyes. But I have a strange request…I don’t want him to be handsome—just an average Joe Blow. I want him rugged, a little worse for the wear. Dangerous looking, maybe with a scar on the side of his neck from an old fight wound.” Sandra knew exactly what type she meant—she had been known to live dangerously once herself. “If you’d like, Frank could load some pictures and you can pick someone out.” “No, I’m not that picky. Anyone who he thinks is a fit will be fine with me.” “If you’re sure.” “Definitely.” “Okay, then, why don’t you follow me into the changing room. I want you to undress down to your panties. There is a lotion in there to rub all over your body, then you can slip on the suit hanging on the wall. Once you do, please come out here to the glass booth.” Sandra pointed to an area with a bed, computers and wires all around. Irma stepped in the changing room to do as Sandra instructed. Sandra saw Wray Slade’s picture on the computer screen, “Frank, 28

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that’s not funny. You can’t use him.” “Why not?” Frank retorted. “You know why not. That’s a real person. He lives right here in this town. They may even know each other. You know the rules. We have to use people from other parts of the country.” “But, Sandra, can’t you see Irma is Slade’s dream woman? What’s wrong with us playing a little virtual match making. I can’t let this pass me by. If I didn’t allow her to have a fantasy about Wray, he’d never forgive me. Oh that’s good. I like it!” “Men’s logic,” Irma heard Sandra mumble as she walked back to the dressing room. Irma undressed, finished applying the lotion and put on the suit. Nervously, she took a deep breath and exited the changing room. Sandra showed her the way to the booth, and Irma looked at all the contraptions and wondered if she really should do this. Then the image of Rosemary being so happy the first time she came back from this place flitted through her mind, and Irma decided this was definitely what she wanted. Sandra told her to lie on the bed and Frank would hook her up to the computer to make the sensors stimulate her body as the hologram played out the scenario. When Frank finished attaching the electrodes, he lowered the headpiece, positioning it over her head. “This will project the holographic image of the man I’ve chosen for you today. Try to relax as the music plays through the headset. Are you ready?” “I…I guess so.” Sandra smiled at her and said as she backed up, “Allow yourself to enjoy.” The music began—“Colour My World”—and surprisingly enough, Irma began to relax… Driving a bright blue Mercedes convertible with her black hair flying in the wind, Irma turned up the radio. Suddenly flashing red strobe lights appeared in her rear view mirror. 29

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“Shit.” Irma looked around for a place to turn off the road to receive the ticket she knew she deserved. She had been driving on a country road with only two lanes and no shoulder to pull onto. She saw a small dirt road ahead and pulled onto it, readying herself to charm the cop out of a ticket. The large oak trees looming nearby cast shadows over her, suddenly she felt small and insignificant, and not a little scared. The policeman pulled in after her on the dirt road and turned off his lights. Leaning over to get her paperwork out of her glove box, she heard the officer’s insistent command for her to step out of the car. “But I haven’t got my paperwork and license out yet.” “Please step out of the vehicle, ma’am.” Grabbing the stack of paperwork she sat back in the seat to glare at the man being so unreasonable. He stood beside her car door in a freshly pressed blue suit, hat and mirrored sunglasses, those unnerving type that she thought men wore just to look at women however they wanted with complete anonymity. Then her breath caught in her throat. This was no ordinary police officer on patrol—this was Wray Slade. What was he doing in a traffic cop uniform? Was this some kind of sick game? “Did I do something wrong, officer?” Irma asked, raising the pitch of her voice to sound as innocent as possible. “You were speeding. I clocked you going eighty in a forty mile-perhour zone.” He opened the car door for her and repeated the order for her to step out of the car. “Alright already,” she exclaimed. “Give me a minute, for goodness sake.” “Please place your hands on the hood.” “What? Surely you’re kidding!” She glared at him. He grabbed her forearm and roughly twirled her around, forcing her to face the car, his strong hands burning a hole in her skin. “Now place your hands on the hood and spread your legs apart.” 30

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“Excuse me, Wray Slade. If this is your idea of getting me back, it’s really not funny. Time out. Who put you up to this?” With a cool, impersonal tone of voice, Wray stated, “Ma’am, I have no idea what you’re rambling on about. You broke the law, I’m enforcing it, and it’s in your best interest to do exactly as I say. You have violated traffic code 405.3 in the Bedford Traffic Index and it’s my duty to mete out your punishment.” “Wait a minute, damn it. I’m an attorney. I know my rights.” “Ma’am, you’re driving in a part of the country that makes its own rules and we deliver punishment for the breaking of those rules as we see fit. I’m just doin’ my job, earning my pay—it’s all in a day’s work.” Reluctantly she placed her feet a small distance apart and leaned over, placing her hands on the hood, as he demanded. He kicked her feet further apart and stepped between them. Irma could feel the length of his warm, hard body pressed against her backside. Mmmhh, this might not be such bad punishment after all. Leaning into her, he whispered into her ear, his deep rumbling voice seductive as hell, his lips lightly brushing her earlobes. “Don’t be alarmed. I am going to frisk you now.” She bristled and tried to turn around, but his steel column of a body pinned her in place. In a loud voice, Irma protested the treatment. “How dare you. This is illegal.” “If you don’t stop moving, I am going to haul your ass downtown and book you on resisting arrest. Then we’ll see exactly how legal it is. Now be still.” Irma remained immobile while Wray stepped away from her, slowly running his large hands up her arms, across her shoulders and down her back, as if committing every inch of her to his long-term memory. Pressing his body back against hers, his rock hard penis bulged against her ass. Irma tamped down the moan that nearly escaped her, and her legs began to quiver in anticipation of his next move. 31

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A ribbon of white heat ripped through her as the officer ran his ohso-skillful hands along the under side of her arms, tickling the sensitive area, and leaving fire in their wake. All her skin receptors fired when he placed both hands on her breasts, lightly squeezing then tenderly kneading them. Try as she might, Irma couldn’t suppress the moan of pleasure, and she felt her clit swell in response to his touch. Irma knew she should stop him, knew this was wrong, but she didn’t want him to stop. This man did it for her like nothing she could have imagined. Every other sexual experience of her life now felt like a mere appetizer for what she felt would be her filet mignon here. She bit her lip, trying to hold at bay any other moans she might have a problem controlling. This man’s body felt so damn good, and she felt her juices rushing, and Irma prepared herself for the scenario yet to come. Chuckling softly in her ear, his hot, sensual breath sending shivers up the back of her neck, Wray whispered, “You like that, don’t you? I can tell. Are you wet yet? Let me check.” Moving slowly down her body with his roughened hands, he spanned her stomach. Irma licked her lips in anticipation. She felt vulnerable but strangely unviolated knowing, in the back of her mind, she’d planned this seduction with her excessive speed. Irma had often fantasized about being seduced by a brawny cop and Wray Slade. Now she was living a merging of those fantasies. The officer moved away from her and the cool sensation hitting her over-heated skin caused her breath to hitch. Where was he? What was he doing back there? Would he touch her again? She hoped so. Surely he wouldn’t stop now, not with them both worked up into a frenzied sexual heat. How dare he torture her like this? Then she felt his hands again, this time on her ankles, calves, thighs, then her ass. Her muscles clinched as he squeezed her cheeks, and he emitted a groan as he squeezed her ass tighter with his hands, as 32

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if leavening dough into bread. His hands left her buns and went back to her ankles and knees, gently dragging the tips of his fingers up her thighs, ribbons of delight sweeping through her. Holding her breath, Irma waited in anticipation for the electric moment his hands found her pussy. She wanted it, needed it, and had to have it. Now. Tonight. Moving back, he pressed against her body again, spanning her sensitive flesh with his hand and spoke in a low hypnotic voice, putting her in an ecstatic trance. “Your panties are wet, my beautiful.” Moaning deep in her throat, Irma let her head fall back on his shoulder as he continued to work his magic by skillfully sweeping his finger over the nub of her clitoris. “Spread your legs wider for me, beautiful, so I can make you feel good.” She did as he requested. His finger stroked her clit, making sparks shoot through her and she wanted to scream from the pleasure. His other hand kneaded a breast as he moved the other hand to insert his middle finger into her vagina. She rotated her hips against his erection while he explored her with his finger, her cheeks heated with lustful fever. The feel of his long, hard shaft made her even hotter. “Oh, yes,” she crooned, moving her hips in response to his plunging finger. Sliding his finger out of her, he moved the slippery digit along her clit, circling it with just the right pressure to make her shake. Totally out of control now, unable to think beyond these intense feelings, she reached around behind her and rubbed her hand over his crotch. Removing his hand from her breast, she heard the sound of a belt buckle jingle and felt the unzipping of his pants. She dug her hand under his boxers and pulled out his manhood, barely able to wrap her fingers around the circumference of his large, hard-as-granite shaft. What a man. Oh, to feel that rock inside her. Moaning with pleasure at the feel of the velvety skin of his organ, 33

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Irma felt Wray place a scalding hand on her back and he pushed her down, her face again on the hood of the car. She bent over even further to accommodate him and whimpered as he removed his fingers from her vagina. Sliding down her panties with his fingers, he guided the head of his penis over the lips of her vagina. “Do you want it, beautiful? All you gotta do is say yes and it’s all yours.” “Yeah, ohhhh, yeah.” She begged, grabbing for his penis, but unable to reach it in the position she was in now. The officer slid his penis into her canal, letting her feel each inch, and she felt her canal expand to accommodate the size of his hard dick. He unclasped her bra and grabbed each breast as he slowly extracted his penis from her juice-saturated canal. He repeated the dance in slow motion and she tried to increase his speed to satisfy her need, but he held her hips fast so she couldn’t move. Only he controlled the motion. “Tell me what you want, beautiful.” “I want you to take me hard, long and fast. Don’t cut me any slack, just make it hurt so good. Please…” At that moment he pulled himself out and plunged into her with all of his might, burying himself all the way in. Irma let out a scream of delight and began to push back against him. He pounded on her now and she enjoyed every hard inch of him. Then he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, the combination of pain and pleasure making it even more erotic. “Ohmigod, don’t stop, please. Whatever you do, don’t you dare stop,” she gasped as he pinched her nipple with his free hand, hammering into her at the same time. She knew she was getting ready to explode and wanted to put it off as long as possible. The pureness of his penis inside of her felt sensational. She felt as if she knew this man, had dreamed of him since she was born. Sex with him was the most exciting thing she’d ever 34

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experienced in her life. It felt so right and so good. She wanted it to go on forever. The orgasm came quick and launched her to the moon. She heard a guttural scream burst from her lungs, as if it belonged to someone else and she had the first out-of-body experience of her life, so great was her pleasure. For a few seconds, she hovered over her spent body, Wray still pumping into her, then came back home to experience the sweetest warmth pulse over her, leaving her satiated and at peace while the postorgasmic spasms continued. Wray continued to thrust, his movements becoming more and more insistent, until at last she felt his body stiffen, he groaned and gave one final thrust before he collapsed into her, sharing her bliss… Irma heard the ending of “Colour My World” as she awoke from the fantasy. Frank stood beside her and lifted the helmet from her head. Sandra asked, “How was it, Irma?” Irma could barely answer. “Unbelievable.” “Unbelievable good or unbelievable bad?” Sandra wanted to know. “Good. Incredible. Fantastic.” Irma swung her spaghetti-noodle legs off the table as Frank finished unhooking the electrodes. “Wow, I can’t believe a hologram can be so real. Better than real.” “That’s what we like to hear.”

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CHAPTER 5

After cleaning up, Irma left Virtual Fantasy, Inc. for her apartment to get ready for her night out with Rosemary. The light on the answering machine blinked at her when she walked into the apartment. Her hands trembled as she pressed the play button. Chills went up her spine at the thought of what she might hear. There it was again, that scary mechanical voice. “I hear you did your job too well today. I’ll make you pay.” Irma clamped her hand over her mouth to stop the scream from escaping. Now she was truly scared. But what should she do about it? Maybe she should go ahead and call the police. But again, her gut instincts overrode and the small voice inside her said, Don’t do it, Irma. Okay, I’m going to forget about this guy and not let him control my life by making me scared. I’m going out with Rosemary tonight and we’re going to have a good time. She had to regain control. Irma took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The mysterious phone caller did not own her. She forced her 36

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thoughts to the upcoming evening. Now—what to wear was the question. She decided on comfortable chic, and slid on her favorite stretchy black dress, which clung to her body and fell slightly off the shoulders. To accessorize, she put on her pearl earrings and necklace. After grabbing her purse, she locked the door behind her and rushed to the car. For the first time since she’d lived in this apartment she was nervous about walking alone through the garage, uncertain what might await her. Driving to Rosemary’s didn’t take long. At this time of night, the traffic wasn’t bad. Irma knocked, then smiled when she heard the kids yelling, “I’ll get it” and thumps on the wood floor as they all rushed to open the door. Flinging it wide, the two older children grabbed her legs while the smallest one waddled over with her hands up, wanting to be held. Patting each child on the back and swinging Sandy into her arms to give her cheek a big kiss, Irma made a show of trying to walk while they hung on. Rosemary, laughing at her kids, demanded they release poor Irma and let her move. Mandy and Jason pulled her by the arms to come over and look at the game running on Play Station 2. “Who’s winning?” she asked. Mandy spoke up. “Jason is right now, but I am catching up fast.” “Nu-huh.” Jason said as he flipped buttons with his thumb and concentrated on the action figures. Cullen came out of the kitchen with a wine cooler in his hand. “Hi, Irma. I thought you might need this.” He handed her the drink. “Thanks. How was your trip?” “Long and boring. Where are you two ladies off to tonight?” “I’m not sure where Rosemary had in mind, but I was thinking maybe The Bone down in Deep Bellum.” “Sounds fun.” Rosemary came out of the bedroom wearing black stretch hip 37

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huggers and an off-white, low-cut blouse. Cullen gave her a wolfwhistle as she twirled around. “I don’t know if I’m going to let you out in public looking so hot,” Cullen said, his eyes sparkling, obviously very attracted to his wife. Irma stood to leave and gave Cullen a peck on the cheek. “Wait up for her. Thanks for letting her go out with me. I’ll take good care of her.” “No problem.” He grabbed Rosemary and gave her a big kiss. “Be a good girl tonight.” “I’m always a good girl, but when I’m bad, I’m still good. You should know about that.” Irma laughed and said, “Man, that’s an old joke. Let’s go, girl, before someone starts throwing stones.” Giving the kids kisses and saying goodbye took about five minutes, but after they closed the door, Rosemary smiled at Irma. “Whew, let’s get out of here and raise some girlfriend hell.” Laughing, they locked elbows and raced for the car. While they were pulling on their seat belts, Irma asked, “How does The Bone sound?” “Great. Good plan. I’m game. Now let’s go.” They turned up the radio and sang along with “Smoke on the Water” at the top of their lungs and slightly off-key, which made them both collapse into their normal giggles. When the Dallas skyline came into view, Irma turned down the radio. After paying the toll, Irma got in the far right lane and curved around to I-35. They had to park a street off the main strip because it was blocked to cars, and they walked the rest of the way. “You know what I think I am going to do for a living when I finally give up my attorney gig?” Irma said, turning the corner. “No, what?” “Make women’s shoes that feel good on their feet as well as look good. Ones you can dance all night in, sleep an hour, put on to go to 38

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work the next day, and your feet are none the worse for the wear. I’ll make a fortune.” “I’d be the first one in line. I was trying to ignore how bad my feet felt, but now that you’ve brought it up, I can’t quit thinking about them.” “Well, I can see the sign from here so let’s get a move on and we can sit down.” “You know, two intelligent girls like us should know better than to wear shoes that hurt our feet when we go out dancing.” “Yeah, you’re right. Only you didn’t factor in they look good with our outfits, and we do have to be pretty. We’ll never grow too old for our vanity,” Rosemary said. Sighing heavily, Rosemary stepped up her pace so she could get there and get off her feet. Soon enough she would give up and remove the shoes, dancing in her bare feet, even though it was against club rules. The place was really hopping by the time they arrived, standing room only. Finally they lucked out and found a couple getting ready to leave, and Rosemary grabbed the table for them. They ordered drinks and got up to dance. The dance floor was as packed as a cattle yard right before the slaughter, and just as hot. Thankfully, their drinks were on the table when they got back to the table. “Rosemary, I need to talk to you about something that’s been going on with me. I seriously need your input.” Irma picked up her drink, stirred it, then took a long, slow sip. “Sure, that’s what I am here for. Who is he?” “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not my love life that is in trouble here—it’s me. It all started when someone tried to run me down in the parking garage, and now I’m getting threatening phone calls.” “Ohmigod, what did they say?” “Well, you know I’ve been working on this big murder case. Apparently the person threatening me did not want me to get my client 39

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off. He’s called twice to tell me I’m going to have to pay. And Rosemary, I won the case yesterday. What am I going to do? I am so scared.” “Have you talked to the police?” “What could they possibly do? All I have to go on is a threat on my voice mail at home.” “I don’t know. They may be able to give you police protection or something.” “Wray Slade told me if I had any more trouble to come to him for help or go to the police. I think I’m going to take him up on his offer. Something tells me not to go to the police, but it’s just a gut instinct. Maybe the culprit works for the police department.” “Wray, huh? Isn’t he that detective you’ve been so hot for a long time now.” Irma blushed and took another long sip of her drink. “Yeah, he’s the one, but there’s only one minor problem.” “What’s that?” “He doesn’t like defense attorneys. In fact, he hates attorneys.” “Even female defense attorneys?” asked Rosemary. Irma shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe he thinks we like letting criminals go free or something insane like that. All I know is he hates me. I can feel it when I’m around him. The strange thing is, I also think, underneath all that anger, he’s attracted to me. I pick that up, too. But a lot of good it does.” “Well, it doesn’t sound like he exactly hates you if he offered to help you.” “Mmmmhhh, I guess you have a point there. Maybe he doesn’t hate me as much as I thought he did.” “Come on, let’s dance.” They got on the dance floor and moved to the sounds of “Fire.” Irma announced, “Don’t look now but the Balsy twins are headed our way.” They watched in horror as the two guys joined them and 40

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danced like monkeys on crack. Irma tilted her head at Rosemary, indicating her desire to leave the dance floor. Rosemary and Irma returned to their seats, enjoyed their drinks and talked about some of the nice-looking prospects in the bar. A good-looking Latino man came over to Irma and asked her to dance. Rosemary watched as they danced and noticed Irma seemed sluggish in her moves. The guy dancing with her moved in and they began slow dancing. Rosemary could not believe it. Irma never slow-danced with a guy she had just met, particularly if the song was a fast one. She was sure something was wrong. When the guy began dragging Irma out of the club, her body limp against his, with no protest, Rosemary snapped to action. She grabbed the security guard in the club and told him what she’d witnessed. By the time they pushed their way through the crowd, the man had Irma out of the club and was dragging her along like a limp noodle. “There she is.” Rosemary told the security guard. Security ran after them and caught up with the man carrying Irma, grabbing him after he let Irma drop to the ground. The culprit hit the security man and ran. The security man knelt beside Irma and felt her pulse. “My guess is that she has been given a Roofie, better known as the date rape drug. She should wake up in a couple of hours with a terrific hangover. But she needs to go to a hospital and get checked out.” “Ohmigod! He must’ve put it in our drinks when we were dancing. Can you put her in the car for me? “Yes.” He scooped her up like a feather and Rosemary led him to the car, where she dug Irma’s keys out of her purse. She noticed a business card in the side pocket and took it out. She clicked the unlock button to the car and read the business card while the security guard laid Irma in the back seat. The card was Detective Wray 41

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Slade’s and had his phone numbers on it, and his cell number written in ink. She looked for a minute at Irma lying in the back seat and made a decision only a best friend could. Rosemary slid behind the wheel of the car, dug out her cell phone from her purse and called the phone number on the card. “Hello, Slade here,” answered the voice on the other end of the line. “Yes, Mr. Slade, this is Rosemary Blakely. I’m a friend of Irma Rivera and she needs your help.” “Is she okay?” Wray asked, his voice thick with concern. “Yes, but barely. Someone drugged her. The security guard at the club thinks it was that date rape drug, and the guy she was dancing with tried to take her somewhere. I hate to impose on you, but could you meet us at the Presby emergency room in Dallas off 75 and Walnut. That’s the closest hospital. I thought it would be faster for me to take her than to call an ambulance.” “I’m on my way,” said Wray. Rosemary constantly checked the rearview mirror to see if she was being followed. Once at the hospital, an orderly came out and helped Irma from the car into a wheel chair. Rosemary found Irma’s insurance card and did the requisite paperwork while Irma was rolled to one of the rooms for examination. Shortly after completing the mounds of paperwork, a man approached her. “Are you here with Irma Rivera?” “Yes, I am.” He stuck out his hand, “I’m Wray Slade.” Rosemary shook his hand. “Oh, I’m so glad you could come. I’m so worried.” “Where’s Irma?” Wray asked. “In the examining room with the doctors. I’ve been stuck up here with paperwork and haven’t heard a thing.” “Well, being a detective does have its perks. Let me see if I can find 42

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anything out.” Rosemary watched him walk back to the emergency area. She hated the suspense of not knowing whether her friend would be okay or not. After five minutes, Wray walked out of the emergency room. “They just got the lab report back. It was Rohypnol all right—the date rape drug—but she’s stable. They’ve got her hooked up to an IV glucose bag. They said that would help dilute the drug and get it out of her bloodstream faster. The doctor said it’s highly unlikely she’ll suffer any side effects. He said we could take her home, but she’s still pretty out of it.” “Wray, I was wondering if I could ask you a huge favor?” “Sure, what’s that?” Rosemary explained in detail the information Irma had shared with her about what had been happening and how frightened and terrorized she’d been feeling. Rosemary continued, “I tried to make sure no one followed me here, but I can’t be sure. And I’m convinced this was not some random act against Irma. I think it’s all tied together. Frankly, Wray, I’m afraid to take her home alone. I’d take her to my house, but I have three children I don’t want to put in danger. So I’ll just come out and say it…could she stay with you a while?” Wray frowned and thought about the complications this request would cost him but in the end, he gave the only answer he could. “Certainly.” Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Wray. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.” “Can we see her now?” Wray asked as the attending physician walked up to them. “Yes. She’s lucid, but I’ve given her some medication that may make her drowsy. Back this way.” The doctor led them to Irma’s cubicle in recovery. Irma lay on the table and, when they walked into the room Irma sat 43

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up, grabbed Rosemary and said, “I love you so much. Thank you for being my bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Rosemary laughed and hugged Irma back. “It’s my pleasure, honey.” Wray quirked an eyebrow at the doctor as if to say, What’s this? The doctor cleared his throat trying to cover a laugh, “She is a bit out of it from the drugs, but she’s fine now. The nurse has the release papers for you to sign.” “Thanks, doctor.” Rosemary and Wray shook the doctor’s hand and he left them with Irma. Once the wheelchair arrived, Wray helped Irma off the bed. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss. “I love you, too, handsome. I’ve been dying to do that for such a long time.” Wray grinned as he removed her arms from around his neck and led her to the wheelchair. “Really? This is good to know.” He winked at Rosemary and said to the orderly, “She’s ready to roll.” “Rosemary, why don’t you bring your car around and I’ll help her into her seat. I figure you’ll want to see where I live and get her all tucked in for the night before you leave.” Rosemary smiled at this big burly, sensitive guy. “I would, thank you.” As Rosemary followed him to his apartment on the lower east side, she gave Cullen a call and explained what had happened thus far, and that she was following Wray to his place. “You don’t even know this guy.” “True, but Irma does and she trusts him. She told me he was the best in the business, and after meeting him, I agree. What else am I going to do? I can’t leave her by herself and I can’t bring her to our house. If someone is really trying to kill her, I have to think of the children remaining safe. You see that don’t you?” “Yeah, I guess you are right. If Irma trusts him, I guess she’ll be all right.” 44

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“See you soon.” She parked as close as she could to the apartment building. Wray opened the car door and unhooked Irma’s seat belt. “Hi again, handsome.” Her speech was still slightly slurred. “So you came back for some more. Well, I’m just the gal to give it to you.” Irma almost fell out of the car, so Wray gently scooped her into his arms. Irma placed her arms around his neck and began giving him little love kisses all over his face and neck. “Follow me,” Wray said to Rosemary. Rosemary had the opportunity to look at this man Irma liked as he walked the stairs. He was power-packed, from his huge neck down to his tree trunk legs. Not a handsome man, but handsome was not Irma’s style. Wray fit the mold for her rough-and-ready type. Wray opened the door and walked through the hallway with Rosemary following at his heels. Going to the back of the apartment, he slid Irma down his body and onto the bed. Her dress hiked up and he had a good view of her hose, garter belt, and black lace panties. Rosemary cleared her throat, went around to the other side of the bed and pulled down Irma’s dress. She looked at Wray who still stared at Irma’s covered crotch; he looked a little shell-shocked. Oh yeah, this is going to work out beautifully, Rosemary thought, hesitant now to let Irma stay without Rosemary as chaperone to this horny detective. Irma rolled over into a fetal position and said, “Goodnight.” While Irma slept, Rosemary and Wray relaxed in the living room. Wray offered her a beer, whiskey, or tea. Rosemary told him tea and once they settled down with her on the couch and him in a big easy chair, they began to talk about the events of the evening. They planned for the days ahead, including details for Irma’s care. “I’ll bring some of Irma’s clothes over tomorrow,” Rosemary promised, walking toward the door to let herself out. “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. It looks like the perp knows 45

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Irma’s habits and where she lives. Which makes me assume he’s been following her. He probably knows about you, so if he didn’t follow you here tonight, I’d rather take this opportunity to keep Irma hidden away. I can get her some clothes tomorrow.” “Okay, that makes sense. Well, I better go. Here’s her purse.” Rosemary shoved the dainty purse into his oversized hands and smiled. “You know when she wakes up, she’s going to be none too happy about this new arrangement.” “She’ll come to terms with it, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Rosemary smiled at the thought of Irma and Wray fighting for control over the next few days. “We shall see.” Satisfied Irma was in good hands, Rosemary left. And hopefully, she thought, things would progress naturally between two consenting adults. As attracted as Wray was to Irma, she had a gut feeling he would never do anything to violate her. Rosemary chuckled to herself as she went home.

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CHAPTER 6

After closing the door behind Rosemary, Wray went to the guest bedroom to check on Irma. He felt her pulse at the neck, good and strong, then ran his fingers over her cheek and her lips. Irma moaned and licked her lips, touching his fingertips with her tongue. He jerked his fingers back as if they were burned. The sensation radiated up his arm and right down to his groin. Damn! I didn’t think she’d be this conscious. Wray stood abruptly and left the room. Walking to the mini-bar, he poured a glass of Jack Daniels and coke. He downed it in a couple of swallows and poured some more. Taking his drink over to the computer, he looked up information on the man at the address Desiree had given him. Malcolm was actually Malcolm Marx with a shiny clean arrest record. He did a search on him and found he owned several legitimate businesses that Wray figured were the fronts for his drug operations. He moved in the right circles to deal Ecstasy. 47

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Some way, Wray would have to figure out how to get close to Malcolm. He called his partner at the station. “Hey, Buzz, what’s happening?” “Your usual. It’s a full moon and all the crazy bastards are out tonight. How about you?” “How’d you like to do a tag team surveillance on a clown named Malcolm Marx over the next couple of days?” “I wouldn’t, but I suppose I don’t have a choice in the matter.” “Right-o. Can you get us the equipment loaned out of the supply room? The address is 68321 Spring Valley. We need to set up in the apartment or office across the street.” “Got it. When do we start?” “You can take the day shift and I’ll start tomorrow night. See you around eight.” “Sounds good.” Wray walked back into the bedroom, stopped in the doorway and emptied his glass again. Irma had turned onto her side, but her dress had ridden up, wrapping tightly around her waist. His penis hardened again just from the lovely sight of her perfectly round ass, the garter belt with lace straps extending down to hook onto the black hose. He wanted to snap off those garters with his teeth and lick every square inch of that lovely butt. He didn’t trust himself, but he couldn’t just leave her there fully clothed. Setting his drink on the nightstand, he walked to the end of the bed and took off her high heel shoes. Rubbing her foot in his hand, he looked at how beautiful and dainty it was, the bright pink toenail polish peaking through the black hose. She moaned again and opened her eyes. Dreamily she stared at him. “That feels good. Please don’t stop…” She drifted back to sleep with a smile on her face. He lifted the other foot, gently pulled off her shoe, and massaged her arches and the balls of that foot. She moved in the bed, stretching 48

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up her arms, reminding him of a kitten purring for its milk. He looked at her dress wrapped around her and made the decision to get rid of it—so she could sleep comfortably, of course. Bending down, he put a hand underneath her, pushing her into a sitting position and, with his other hand, unzipped her dress. He pulled it over her head and when her arms were free, she wrapped them around his neck. Pulling him toward her, she hungrily kissed his lips, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth. She opened her mouth and slid her tongue between his lips to tangle with his, and purred as she pulled him closer. Irma pulled at him and he braced himself with one arm on the bed to keep himself from toppling onto her, returning her kiss with gusto. She released his mouth long enough to say, “Come to me, baby. I want you.” Then she tugged at him again. Unprepared for the strong pull from her, he landed with half his body on top of her in the bed. Irma sucked his tongue into her mouth and seductively stroked it. Dragging her nails down his back to his ass, she grabbed each cheek in a hard squeeze as she pumped her pelvis up onto his throbbing penis and purred once more. Now it was his turn to moan, and his dick pumped into high gear at full throttle. She had a steady rhythm going now—pumping her pussy onto his hard dick while moving her tongue at the same rhythm. He knew if he didn’t stop this soon, he’d be buried deep inside of her and he couldn’t be sure if this aggressiveness on her part was of her now uninhibited desire for him or a reaction from the drugs. As much as he wanted to make love to this exotic beauty, more than he could ever remember wanting anything in his life, he didn’t want to make love to her under these uncertain conditions. Wray was way past wanting or enjoying sex just to get off. He could take care of that himself with no headaches. He wanted the sharing, the caring, the sensuality and mutuality of the whole experience. And they would just have to wait. 49

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Just a few more minutes. The evil side of his conscious spoke. Wray dug his hands in her black silky hair and pumped into her again, sliding his hard penis up and over her mound. Irma sat up, her expression earnest. “Wray Slade, I want you to make love to me. Now.” Wray hesitated, “Kitten, I don’t think that would be wise…” Irma interrupted him, planting a wet kiss on his lips and pulling him down. Well, maybe he could just get a little taste of what it would be like to make love to this exquisite creature. Her satiny brown skin, her luminous eyes with the dark, curly lashes, her broad smile and perfect teeth—everything about her spelled perfection. But the best thing about her was that she was so real, so unassuming, the antithesis of the hardened, tough persona she projected in the courtroom. Suddenly Irma broke off the kiss and panted wildly, clutching his butt cheeks harder and slamming her crotch into his. “Ohmigod, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Wray. I’m coming. Oh, yes. Now!” He let her pump faster and harder against his erection. She climaxed with a scream of pleasure, digging her nails into his skin. Then, just as suddenly as it all began, she sighed contentedly, turned over, sidled her cheeks next to him and promptly fell back into a deep sleep. Damn! He had a raging hard-on and now she wouldn’t be finishing the job. Well, that was what he got for not stopping before things got out of hand. Wray got up and pulled the covers over her, then stood straight, running his hands through his hair. Grabbing his glass off the nightstand, he went back in the living room to drink away his passion. He fired up the computer again and worked late into the night, trying to get his mind off Irma. It was either work or take a cold shower. When Wray turned off the computer, he crashed on the couch for the rest of the night. The next morning he woke early because he didn’t 50

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want Irma waking first, thinking she might be frightened since she wouldn’t know where she was or what had happened. He brewed coffee and took it to the bedroom door. Knocking softly, he listened, but heard no response. He opened the door and noticed her garter and hose on the floor. Apparently during the night she had finished undressing, but his vivid imagination took over and he groaned as the erection he worked so hard to squelch the night before immediately sprang up again. Damn. Why did she have to be so bloody sexy? He placed the coffee cup on the bedside table and gently shook her. “Irma, wake up. It’s me, Wray Slade.” With a gasp, Irma sat staight up, grabbing her head as if suddenly reminded of her pain. Staring wide-eyed at him, she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Ohmigod, what have I done?” Wray realized she thought they had slept together and a devilish side of him wanted to make her pay for all the times she had humiliated him on the witness stand. “Don’t you remember, kitten?” He winked at her for seductive measure. Irma groaned and let her head fall back onto the pillow. “No, I don’t remember a thing.” Wray patted her arm in reassurance. “Rosemary and I brought you here last night, Irma. Someone at The Bone apparently slipped a Roofie into your drink. She was worried about your safety, so she called me and asked me to bring you here.” Irma looked at him with a puzzled expression, “A Roofie?” “Yes. I think the guy was trying to kidnap you. It may’ve been connected to the threats you’ve had lately. Luckily, Rosemary was on her toes, and stopped the ploy.” Big tears slid down Irma’s cheeks. “Why is someone trying to kill me? I was just doing my job.” She punched the pillow. “I hate that damn job. Do people really think I want to let criminals go free?” Wray ran his hand down her straight blue-black hair. “Well…I 51

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guess that’s what we perceive when we see you defend the bad guys time after time. Stop crying, kitten. I should’ve realized you’re just trying to give those guys what every citizen of the United States has a right to—a fair trial.” She looked at him and began crying harder. A sobbing woman never failed to tear his heart to shreds. He took her in his arms, cradling her, rocking back and forth and stroked her hair. “It’s, okay, kitten, just get it all out. I’m here.” * * * A torrent of tears let go and she cried until exhausted, but she felt better. As the tears dried, awareness crept over her that he still held her, even though she’d stopped crying. She felt like the moon after it slid out from behind a cloud, light and full of anticipation after a dark night. She looked into his eyes. “I’m so sorry to have lost it like that. Thank you for being so kind and being here for me.” She looked at his face, then zeroed in on his gorgeous lips. Her heartbeat accelerated, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and a heated flush spread over her body. She watched his lips move while he spoke, not really comprehending what he said, only noticing the sensuous lines and manly tones of his kiss-me-now lips. “Irma, are you all right?” Shaking her head to get rid of the sexual haze, she asked, “Sorry, what did you say?” “Would you like me to fix you some breakfast? We really need to talk. And I make a mean omelet.” She leaned back, creating a space between them, and said, “Sure. Ahhh, yeah, sure.” Then, with an embarrassed jolt, she realized she was sitting in Wray Slade’s bedroom with nothing on but panties. She snatched the sheet and held it in front of her. “Just let me get something on and I’ll be right out.” “If you’d like, I could loan you a T-shirt.” “Yeah, that’d be great, thank you.” 52

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He briefly left her. When he came back, he handed her a white Tshirt with “Pigs Do It Better” written on the front. She laughed when he held it up, “Is that so?” He gave her a lop-sided smile and said, “Care to find out?” Irma gasped, opened her mouth to say something, but no answer would form except, “Hell, yea!” He laughed and took a step back. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you get ready.” Irma took a quick bath and scrubbed her face then donned the Tshirt. She contemplated putting her panties back on, but couldn’t bare to put on a dirty pair, so opted to go without. The T-shirt came to her knees anyway. Following the smell of food, she ended up in the kitchen where Wray was stirring scrambled eggs, a kitchen towel thrown over one shoulder. Irma loved the dichotomy of this macho man in the middle of such blissful domesticity. Any man who could whip up breakfast was a man after her heart. Forget the food. He looks good enough to eat. “Can I help you do something?” “Yeah, you can put the bacon on the plates and butter the toast.” “Okay, done.” They worked seamlessly together in the kitchen, as if they had been married for years. Irma felt cozy—comfortable. A peaceful feeling settled over her, and with it, an uncanny sense of belonging—to him, but not the feeling of being possessed, as she’d always seemed to feel in her former relationships with men. Wray smiled at her and scooped the eggs out of the pan onto plates. He handed them to her. “If you take these to the table, I’ll refill our coffee cups. By the way, do you take anything in yours?” “Nope, just black, thanks.” She sat at the table and waited for him. Suddenly nervous, suddenly wanting to be more, suddenly wishing she was anything but an attorney. 53

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He smiled when he sat next to her. “Eat up before your food gets cold.” Then he dove in like a man who hadn’t seen hot food in a month. Irma daintily placed her paper towel onto her lap, then picked up a fork and took a small bite of the eggs. Irma had barely started when Wray laid down his fork and pushed away his empty plate. He took the last two swallows of coffee and said, “Well, now, let’s talk about you and the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.” Irma sputtered and placed her hand over her mouth so the food wouldn’t fly out. “What do you mean?” “Well, you agree someone is trying to kill you, right? “Right.” “And you agree you need protection, right?” “Right.” “So I’m the man for the job. The only problem is I’m working another case, so you’ll have to tag along with me, if that’s okay with you.” “Do you think that’s really necessary?” Irma could not control the part of her that felt electrified at the thought of being with Wray for days, but how could she keep from throwing herself at him during that time? Discipline. Good old-fashioned discipline, her little voice told her. “Yes, I do. Do you have any idea who might be after you?” “Not a clue. I had my paralegal pull the file on my client, but I never got to the office to pick it up.” “Well, that’s a good beginning. You can call the office and have them courier it over here. Since today is Sunday, I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” “How long do you think I’ll need to stay with you?” “As long as it takes.” He stared her in the eyes and her throat tightened while her pussy clinched. As long as it takes to make love to him at least twenty times before we have to part ways, and he goes back to hating me. I’m on reprieve 54

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right now, in the de-militarized zone since I’m a victim, but when everything gets straightened out, we’ll be back to square one. My God, she thought, he’s too damn sexy for words. * * * Wray almost laughed when she jumped up and started clearing away the dishes. He could tell he made her as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, and he loved making the uptight, conservative attorney edgy. He loved to watch her squirm. He smiled until he noticed the thatch of black hair silhouetted through his white T-shirt. He began to salivate and felt a flush of new heat roll up his face and down to his dick. Damn, he was getting another hard-on. The least she could’ve done is put her panties back on. Knowing she wore no underwear was a turn-on enough, but seeing the evidence sent him over the top. Wray couldn’t resist another look. He could make out the perfect triangle of the hair over her sex and his mouth went dry. All he could think of was no panties, no restraints if he wanted to thrust into her at this very moment. She moved beside him to pick up his plate and silverware, and it took every muscle in his body to keep himself from pulling her into his lap and stroking her. Standing abruptly, he knocked over the chair and said awkwardly, “I’ll wash the dishes.” “No, you made breakfast, so I’ll wash up.” “Okay, thanks. I’ll go take a shower then.” A cold shower! How in the hell was he going to stay in this apartment the rest of the day with her, knowing she had nothing on under that T-shirt but sweet juicy flesh and the softest, most beautiful skin he’d ever seen in his life. Maybe he needed to go out and buy her something to wear today. He shaved, showered and wrapped a towel around his waist. Exiting the bathroom, he walked into the bedroom and slipped on a pair of workout shorts. He headed to the kitchen to get some juice. Irma was 55

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still cleaning the breakfast dishes, just now filling the dishwasher with soap. Her T-shirt had hiked up and she leaned over the machine, so he could see the bottom swell of her ass. Immediately, his penis began to swell and, with his thin pants, it wouldn’t be hard for her to see. He turned to go back to his room but she grabbed his arm—and looked straight down at his new erection, which was threatening to become a permanent state if he didn’t do something fast. She kept her eyes on his bulge, and he watched as her nipples began to protrude through the tantalizing white T-shirt. Thoughts of their little foray last night invaded his mind. Moving his hands to cup her face, he lowered his mouth over hers and passionately kissed her. The kiss was just as hot as last night’s and she returned it with the same enthusiasm. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned into him, pressing those nipples into his chest, igniting every nerve ending in his body. This woman was unbelievable. He eased her over to the table and stripped off her clothes, one inch at a time. Skimming his hands over the mounds of her beautiful breasts, he opened the pink moist skin of her vulva. He examined it, thinking it looked very much like a freshly bloomed rose. Lowering his head, he savored her musky, excited scent, and tasted her juices with his tongue. He laved his tongue over her clit, then pulled his head back to watch it swell, loving the sight of her face contort in agonized pleasure. Oh, the beauty of it all. He felt his penis pressing urgently against his pants. Freddie wanted more. His instincts had been awakened, and he had no intention of going back into hibernation. Even though Irma seemed on the verge of orgasm, he was not finished with her yet. While he administered that talented tongue on her, he spread her lips and placed a finger in her vagina, moving it with the rhythm of his tongue. * * * Irma felt pressure mounting, the ball in her stomach grew until she 56

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groaned and gave her full attention to his ministrations. She let herself implode, every cell in her body seemed to turn inside out, and she screamed, “Wray! Wray! Wray, I’m coming.” Wray pulled his pants halfway down. “Kitten, turn around.” Once in place, he masterfully took her hips and slid her bottom over the edge of the table and slid his penis inside her, her vaginal walls still spastic from her orgasm. Irma loved the fullness of Wray inside of her, the way his penis ignited the sensitive cells of her canal as he slid in and out of her. Her primal instincts activated to full throttle and she wanted him to increase his thrust faster and harder. Irma reached behind her, grabbed his thighs and pulled him toward her, showing him her need. She cried, “Yes. Yes, Wray. Just like that. Oh, my God, I’m coming again.” Irma could feel his muscles tighten and a groan escaped him, deep and manly as his fluid spilled into her, filling her with his warmth. A sense of unity and intimacy like she’d never dreamed possible in this life blanketed her. This was perfect and pure.

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CHAPTER 7

Irma made Wray a list of the things she needed from the store and wrote down her dress and pant sizes. “I can write you a check for your purchases when you get back.” “No problem. You just relax while I’m gone. I’ll pick up some food. Any preference? You aren’t a vegetarian or anything, are you?” Irma laughed, thinking that was probably this macho man’s worst nightmare—being stuck with a die-hard vegan for three days. “No, I’m a meat and potatoes girl. I like just about anything with legs.” “Okay, great.” He looked relieved. Walking over to her, he wrapped her in his arms and planted a knockout kiss on her lips. “Just giving you a little something to remember me by.” As if she could ever forget. After he left, Irma picked up the telephone and called Rosemary. “Hi, it’s me.” “How are you?” Rosemary exclaimed. 58

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“Wonderful. Scared. Sated.” “Really? That bad and that good, huh?” “Mind-blowing. Thanks for bringing me here last night. I feel so safe with him, even with my life turned upside down. You aren’t going to believe this, but he’s out shopping right now for some clothes for me.” Irma giggled. “I’m looking forward to seeing what he comes back with, but a part of me is scared I’ll have to go out in public looking like a dweeb.” Rosemary laughed. “Yeah, a man turned loose buying women’s clothes is a scary thing. How are you really handling all this?” Irma sighed and stopped smiling. “Rose, I’m really frightened. What if that nut finds me? He said he’d kill me. And I think he means it.” “I know. But try not to worry—Wray’s not going to let anything happen to you. He seems more than capable, in fact, very competent.” “He is very good at his job, I have to admit. I trust him implicitly, but you know, there’s always that…what if?” “You can’t think like that. You can’t let this guy control your life through fear. Have you any idea yet who it could be?” “No, not yet. It’s probably someone in the murder victim’s family. We’re going through the files tomorrow as soon as Matt can courier them over.” “Great. Well, I’ve gotta go. The kids are beating up on each other.” “Okay, talk to you again soon.” Irma called Matt and left a voice mail requesting he courier over the files. She left Wray’s address, which he had written for her on a pad on his desk. She lay on the couch to watch an old classic movie with Cary Grant. The movie had just ended when Wray walked back into the apartment, carrying all the bags he could possibly hold. He looked frazzled and dumped everything on the floor by the front door. He 59

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walked over to the couch, raised her legs, plopped onto the couch and put her legs across his lap. “Whew…my God, that was a lot of work. I can’t believe women enjoy shopping. I think I need a nap. Care to join me?” He ran a hand up Irma’s leg, with the comfort only a couple has with each other. She laughed and swung her legs off his lap. “No way. I want to see what you bought me.” Placing all his purchases on the chair in the living room, she began to pull out clothes, holding them against her body for him to see. He didn’t do a half-bad job, she thought, until—the teddy. She held up the nightwear and watched his expression through the see-through material. “What am I suppose to do with this? Blow my nose?” He smiled sheepishly. “No, that’s your nightgown, kitten.” “Who told you this thin piece of material was a nightgown?” “No one had to tell me,” he said defensively. “It was hanging there with all the other sleepwear. Now, how about putting it on and modeling it for me?” She snorted and folded it, putting it back in the sack. “In your dreams.” While she put away his purchases, he laid out the take-out Chinese boxes on the coffee table. After filling both their plates with a little bit of everything from the containers, he carried the plates to the living room, set them on the coffee table, and hit the seat beside him. “Come on and sit down. The food is getting cold.” While they ate, he told her about his shopping experience and she told him about calling her paralegal. Once they finished the main course, they opened their fortune cookies. Wray asked her to read hers out-loud. “Trouble is headed your way.” Irma frowned. “You didn’t read it right. Haven’t you ever heard how you are suppose to read a fortune cookie?” 60

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“I guess not.” “You’re supposed to add ‘in bed’ to the end of it. Now read it right.” “Trouble is headed your way—in bed. You just made that up.” Wray laughed. “I did not.” “What does yours say?” “You will achieve great success—in bed.” “Liar. Let me see that.” She snatched the piece of paper out of his hand. “I can’t believe it really says that.” They both looked at each other and burst out laughing. He grabbed her and said, “Let’s get started on making my fortune come true.” “I thought you had to go to work?” Wray looked at his watch, “Mmmm, I think we have time.” He lifted her T-shirt over her head, and grinned mischievously. “Lay back, kitten. I’ve got a sweet surprise for you.” He dipped a finger into the red sweet and sour sauce, and drew a heart around her nipple with the sauce. Then he outlined a heart on the other nipple. Wray lowered his tongue to lick the sauce off each nipple, sucking until she withered in Chinese-fortune-cookie bliss. Dipping a finger into the sauce-cum-fingerpaint, he drew a heart around her navel, then placed some sticky-sweet topping right on her clit. He slowly spread her legs as he kissed up one side of her thigh, then the other. Irma grabbed his hair and pulled his head toward her clit, wanting, longing, needing and begging him to take her. Wray watched every expression cross her beautiful face, enjoying the sexual heat that created an aura about her, lighting up her face like a diva Madonna. He eased his face between her legs and licked off her clitoris the succulent red juices that had mingled with her own. With long, hard stokes, he quickly had her purring, her stomach muscles clutching. He wanted more. He wanted to watch her come. Moving his finger in and out of her vagina, he changed the direction 61

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of his tongue to firm, small circles on her button, stimulating unmercifully her love zones. The moment he had been waiting for arrived. Irma screamed and clutched his head as the orgasm took control of her body. Wray placed a pillow under her ass and plunged his hard dick into her still quivering vagina. “Oh, yeah…you’re going to make me come again. Oh, Wray, that feels so good.” Her words excited him and pulled on his heart muscles. He wanted to please this woman to the max. For some reason, all he cared about was making her feel good and him being the one to do so. She cried out again in ecstasy and her muscles contracted around his penis, making him lose control and explode with a hard orgasm of his own. They lay entwined in each other’s arms for a while, catching their breaths. He enjoyed the feel of her stroking his back with her hands and sliding her foot up and down the back of his leg. Never before with any other woman had he felt such peace and tranquillity. Is this what love felt like? Damn, where in the hell did that come from? He jumped off the couch and her like he had been shot. “I guess you’re right. We better get going or we’ll be late.” “We?” “Yes, we. You’re going with me. I don’t want to chance leaving you here again a second time.” “No one knows where I am. I’ll be fine here.” He put his hands on each one of her cheeks and tenderly held her face, looking into her eyes, “Kitten, please go with me to the stakeout. I’d worry if you stayed here alone—I’ll be gone longer. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Okay?” Well, if you put it that way. “Okay. You win. Let me get dressed.” By eight p.m., they pulled up in front Whiffletree Square where all 62

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the rich and famous resided. He showed his badge to security and went to the office building where all the surveillance equipment had been set up. Buzz, Wray’s partner, greeted them at the door and gave Wray a run-down of what had been going on thus far in the apartment across the street where they had Malcolm staked-out. “Malcolm called someone and set up a meeting tomorrow at eleven for the exchange of cash for merchandise. Two million in cash to be exact,” Buzz told them. “Pretty expensive merchandise.” “Yeah. The department has called the phone company for a trace on the number he called. You should be getting that info tonight sometime. I’ve talked to the captain and we have a go-ahead to bust them tomorrow at the exchange.” “Okay. Where’s it going to be?” “Over in the warehouse district off Washington Avenue. That seems to be the new hip-happenin’ place now. “Buzz, I believe you know Irma Rivera. She’s in a tight spot, so I am doubling as bodyguard.” Whispering to Wray, Buzz said, “Sure you are.” To Irma, he said, “Nice to see you again, ma’am. Well, I am outta here.” The executive suite had been rearranged to accommodate the surveillance machinery along the window. A computer monitor sat on the desk, displaying the activities in the room being observed. Wray trained his eyes on the monitor until the phone rang in Malcolm’s apartment. When Malcolm moved into another room, Wray would go to the telescope to zero in on the man. Close to eleven o’clock, the apartment buzzer rang at Malcolm’s and he answered the intercom. “Come on up.” Wray immediately began taping the apartment. He watched as a beautiful blonde bombshell that appeared to be in her early twenties entered Malcolm’s apartment. 63

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“Silva, what a nice surprise,” Malcolm said when he opened the door. Before Malcolm could even close the door, Silva’s arms were wrapped around his neck and she saddled her body next to his, planting a seductive kiss on his lips. “I’ve missed you,” she announced in a sultry voice after breaking off the kiss. Leading her over to the couch with his hand in the small of her back, he asked, “Is it me you miss, or what I can give you?” Silva gave him a small, shy smile. “Maybe a little of both.” Malcolm wolfishly smiled with narrowed eyes. “At least you’re honest. Go in the bedroom and take off your clothes,” he demanded. “I’ll be right there.” Silva walked obediently into the bedroom while Malcolm went to the wall safe and extracted a large wooden box. He placed a small handful of pills into a small baggie and put the box back in the safe. Wray exclaimed, “Bingo!” Curious to see what was going on, Irma walked up to Wray. “What’s happening?” “I’ll let you see for yourself. “ Wray scooted over and adjusted the height of the telescope. Irma peered through the lens. “He has the drugs in his apartment,” Wray informed her. Irma watched Malcolm walk to the bar and drop some ice cubes in a glass. He poured some golden liquid from a bottle into the glass then added some water and carried it into the bedroom. Silva, blonde and sleek, at least a six-foot Nordic goddess, stood totally nude, waiting for Malcolm to walk in the room. Malcolm popped one of the pills in her mouth and gave her a drink from the glass. He shook the small packet of pills in front of her eyes then moved his hand to her vagina, inserting the bag inside her canal. “A little gift for you to take home and enjoy later. Now I expect a 64

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little gratitude from you in return.” “Of course,” Silva said and began to undress Malcolm. “What an asshole,” Irma said. “He thinks he’s God or something. Why don’t you go arrest him now? He obviously has the drugs and just gave Silva some for her services.” “Yeah, well, that’s the way their world works, Irma. Her favors for his drugs. No, we want the big player. The one he’s scheduled to meet tomorrow.” Silva had Malcolm’s pants and underwear down around his ankles. He had already taken off his shoes and now he kicked his clothes over to the side. She knelt in front of him and took his penis in her mouth, stroking it with her hand as she pulled it in and out. The sound of the surveillance equipment was so sensitive Irma could actually hear Silva moaning and Malcolm panting. Irma pulled away from the eyeglass. “Isn’t this an invasion of privacy?” “Not when you have a court order. I like to think of it as a job perk. Those are few and far between in this business. We might as well enjoy the show.” Irma’s curiosity got the best of her and she continued to watch the couple in their sexual heat. She’d never thought of herself as a voyeur, but watching the two gorgeous bodies getting ready to tango sent frissons of delight and a sense of wicked sinfulness coursing through her. And from the bulge in Wray’s pants, she assumed it excited him, too. She hoped this erotic stimulation would lead to a red-hot lovemaking session for them later. Wray moved behind Irma and kissed her neck while she continued to watch the couple. She could feel him undoing buttons on her shirt, but she was so enthralled with watching the sex play in the apartment, she couldn’t wait for him to fondle her. Malcolm grabbed Silva’s hair and yanked. “Suck my dick faster,” he growled. “That’s it. Yeah. Play with my balls while you suck.” 65

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Silva moved a hand to cup and massage his testicles, as he pumped harder into her mouth. Wray, on the other hand, had Irma’s shirt open, bra undone, and was tenderly squeezing her hard-nippled breasts. He seductively stroked her chest, then her stomach. The contrast in technique between the soft stimulation Wray tendered Irma and the harsh sex play between Malcolm and Silva was as different as night and day. It made Irma more aware than ever of how great she and Wray were together. The difference between the two men really turned her on. Malcolm pulled back from Silva and ordered her to stop. “Lay on the bed and spread yourself for me. Get your legs as far apart as they can go. You know what I like.” Irma watched as Silva lay on the bed and bent her legs so he could see her vagina. She began to masturbate and rub her clit with her finger while Malcolm stroked himself and watched. When he looked like he was close to coming, he moved his head closer to see her crotch. Silva began to moan. She moved her fingers into her pussy and took out the little plastic bag Malcolm had placed there earlier. She threw the bag across the room toward her purse, then slid her finger back into her canal, moving it in and out while she spread her lower lips with her other hand. At the same time, Wray placed two fingers on either side of Irma’s clit, squeezing gently between his fingers, and slowly massaging it into a swelling expansion. Irma placed her hands on top of his, guiding them in the rhythm that seared her to a boiling Fahrenheit. Even wanting desperately to feel the girth of his penis deep inside her, slamming against the back wall of her vagina, she wasn’t quite ready to tear herself away from the titillating images in the telescope. She heard Malcolm say, “I can’t hear you. Talk to me, baby.” Silva spoke in a low seductive voice. “My pussy feels so wet and hot. My juices are running all over my fingers, making it easy to slide them in and out of my vagina. Oh, finger fucking myself feels so 66

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good.” Silva’s hips thrust up as she pumped her hips and Malcolm stroked himself faster. Silva announced, “I’m coming, baby. Come with me. Ohhhh, I’m coming.” Malcolm stood over Silva and spilled his fluid over her while she screamed with her self-inflicted orgasm. Irma shut her eyes and allowed the stimulation of Wray’s fingers to consume her. Moaning, she laid her head back on his chest and thrust her hips against his probing fingers. She turned in his arms to face him, her fingers itching for his smooth, hardened muscles. She removed his shirt and stoked his chest with her hands, then leaned in and took one of his nipples between her teeth, softly biting it, then nipping the other one. Slowly she undid the buttons on his jeans and slid the pants down his body. Kneeling before him, she took his swollen shaft in her hand, pumped a few times before rubbing the drops of liquid that oozed out over the head for lubrication. She circled her tongue around the bulbous head several times, then licked up the sides. “Kitten, stop torturing me,” Wray panted, his face hot and red. Laughing, but understanding his need and impatience, she slid her mouth down the whole length of him. Pulling her mouth back up the shaft, she whirled her tongue around the head, probing the tip of her tongue into the slit at the end, loving the sight of him letting go to his pleasure; his legs trembled as she dipped and thrust her tongue over every centimeter of his organ. Wray groaned and grabbed a handful of her hair. “You make me feel so good, Irma, like no woman has ever made me feel. Let’s go over to the couch so I can make you feel good, too.” He pulled off his shoes and stepped out of his pants. Irma followed suit and removed the remainder of her clothing, and Wray took her hand and led her to the couch. Easing her onto the sofa, he said, “Kitten, lay back and let me pleasure you. This one’s for you—all you have to do is close your eyes, 67

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relax and enjoy. I’m getting ready to send you to the moon.” With her eyes already closed, Irma whispered, “Wray, how did you know I’ve always wanted to go to the moon. When I was a little girl, I’d walk out every night and look at the mysterious moon in awe, wanting so badly to find a way to get there.” “Well, fasten your seatbelt. We’re on our way.” He planted soft kisses on her neck, then migrated south, exploring every inch of skin, the sensations creating electric sparks that set every cell sizzling. He eased himself down to the V between her thighs, spread them wide, and buried his head between her legs. His face felt so good and hot next to her skin. His tongue sliced the crease on both sides of her legs then he spread her vulva with his hands, exposing her throbbing clitoris. Using back and forth strokes with his tongue, she bucked wildly at the surprising new sensation, loving the warmth of the pulsating heat pooling in her loins. He sucked her clit, pulling on it stronger and stronger, then plunged his hard tongue into her vagina. She grabbed his head, her muscles tensing for the impending, explosive orgasm. She climbed to the top, his tongue moving faster and faster with her heat, then she exploded, and launched to the moon like a rocket, just as Wray had promised. After she’d recovered and came back to Earth, Irma said, “Wow, but I have to have you inside me now.” Irma changed positions and lowered herself over his penis. She sank onto his erection with a slow, steady control, enjoying the nerve endings coming alive with the muscle expansion and contraction, and watching him lose control again. Once she had him fully buried inside her, he groaned with satisfaction. She moved upward again and slammed onto him, enjoying the feel of him hitting rock bottom before she moved up again. He took her breasts in his hands, kneading them and gently pulling at her nipples, allowing the shockwave to move to her womb. Wray 68

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moved his hands to her hips to help her lift and slam down on him. She could feel the building of her second orgasm and moved faster, harder. Then she heard Wray say, “I’m coming, baby. Come with me.” She began to shiver, her body readying for the upcoming climax, and she screamed his name over and over. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, how can anything on Earth be this good?” As liquid bliss enveloped her, the spasms slowly ebbed and she fell limp in his arms.

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CHAPTER 8

The next morning Irma awoke to Buzz bringing in coffee and donuts. “Rise and shine, lady. I brought sugar and caffeine to get the body jumping.” “Thanks, Buzz,” Irma said, shoving the blanket aside and planting her bare feet on the floor. Wray grabbed a cup of coffee and grunted his thanks to Buzz. Buzz looked at Irma and tilted his head in Wray’s general direction. “Not a morning person, I take it?” She smiled, taking an immediate liking to Buzz. “So how did you like your first stake out? Irma smiled, remembering her night with Wray. “Great.” “Really? Wray, you’ve got to let me in on your secret. My stakeouts tend to get quite boring. You really must enlighten me on what you do differently.” Buzz smiled and winked at Irma. Wray grumbled, “Cut the crap. It’s way too early, Buzz. I hate people who’re happy in the morning.” Stretching his arms to the 70

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ceiling, then taking a big swig of coffee, Wray asked, “Are we all set up for the bust this morning?” “Yeah, we meet the P.D. around ten.” “Irma, I need to drop you off at my place for a couple of hours while I do this. Will you be okay or do you want me to ask one of the officers to stay with you?” “I’ll be fine. No one but Matt and Rosemary know where to find me. Matt should’ve sent over those files by now, and I can get started sifting through them while you’re gone.” Irma got up to leave. “Buzz, it was nice to meet you.” “You, too. Take care.” Wray told Buzz he would meet him at the exchange point. Buzz would follow Malcolm to the drop off point. They drove back to Wray’s apartment in silence. Once in front of the building, he pulled over to the curb. Placing his hand behind her neck, he pulled her close and kissed her long and hard. Irma could tell he was worried by the frown creasing his brow. “Don’t worry about me, Wray. I’ll be fine.” “You know I care about you, don’t you, Irma?” “Even though I am a defense attorney?” She smiled. “Well, nobody’s perfect. It’s our flaws that make us lovable, right?” “Yeah, not everybody can be a morning person.” She gave him a light punch in the arm and they laughed together. “Now, scoot before I change my mind and escort you up to the apartment. It’d be a crying shame for me to miss all the fun at the exchange. I’d also have to get used to missing my paycheck.” “Mmmm, you know—it’s not that good of a job anyway. Let’s see, what will you pick—paycheck, sex, paycheck, sex. Tough call, huh, Wray?” She moved over and planted another long kiss on his mouth.” He broke off the kiss with a groan. “Okay, out, before Fred takes control and I have no choice in the matter.” Irma stuck out her bottom lip. “Okay, okay. But hurry back as soon 71

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as possible. Wilma will be waiting.” “I’ll be anticipating. You can count on that.” He winked at her and, as soon as she slammed the door, he peeled out of the parking spot. She watched him until his car was out of sight, then trudged up to his lonely apartment. * * * Wray felt extremely anxious about leaving Irma alone. If anything happened to her, what would he do? Strange that he’d never remembered worrying about anyone like this. Could he have let down the barriers to his heart? Yes. And it was too late now to throw up walls. Too late to close the barn doors after the horses were out. Damn it. But it felt good to be in love. Wray said it out loud, as if saying it and hearing it freed him. “I’m in love with Irma Rivera!” It took all his willpower to keep the car moving toward the exchange and not turn it around to get back to Irma, protect her, wrap her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her. Wray felt his heart would explode from the fullness of his love. He drove to the designated spot where Buzz and the back-up team would be waiting. The bug in the warehouse had been in place for around twelve hours so they could hear the exchange. Buzz and Wray climbed into a surveillance van and listened. The preliminaries were out of the way and Malcolm’s voice rang loud and steady. “Have you got the goods?” “Yeah, right here. Same supplier as before. Premium shit. You?” “Here’s your money.” At the last cue, Wray and Buzz burst out of the van at full throttle. The men with the battering rams stood on each side of the door and Wray gave them a nod of readiness. In seconds, they were through the door and yelling, “Dallas PD, freeze.” Wray had hoped no one would actually move and start a firefight, but someone did and immediately the bullets started flying. It lasted only a few minutes. One fatality and three injuries. Wray was glad no 72

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one from his team took a hit. Malcolm came out of it without a scratch. They found him hiding behind the car—typical coward, he let his men do his dirty work and take the fall. Wray took great pleasure in slapping on Malcolm’s cuffs and pushing him into the squad car. But Wray couldn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor until he could reassure himself Irma was okay. Buzz, obviously noticing Wray’s anxiety, slapped Wray on the back and said, “Hey, man, I can finish up here. Why don’t you go back and take care of Irma?” “Thanks, man.” * * * She asked the security guard in the lobby if she had received a package. He looked behind his booth but there was nothing for her. Once in the apartment, she called Matt to see when the files should be delivered, but she got his voice mail. Irma had tried to watch some television while she waited for Wray to get back, but she couldn’t concentrate. She felt too restless and worried. She knew how extremely dangerous Wray’s job was, and the thought of him being injured made her stomach knot. Never had she met anyone like Wray and she wanted him to be safe at his apartment with her. In her arms. Making love. Loving him. Yes, she had fallen in love with the brute. The knock on the door made her jump, though she was sure it was the courier. Looking through the peephole, Irma saw it was her paralegal, Matt. Relief flooded through her. Opening the door, she smiled. “Come in, Matt. Thanks for going to the trouble of delivering this yourself. I was expecting the courier.” Matt walked in carrying a huge file in his hand. “Hi, Irma. I decided to bring this over personally to make sure you’re all right.” “I’m fine, Matt, thanks. Come on in. Would you like a glass of tea or water?” He didn’t move from his position by the front door. “No, nothing 73

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for me, thanks. I can’t stay long. Has anything else happened?” “Nothing since Wray’s been my unofficial bodyguard.” Matt’s eyes darted around. “Where is Wray, by the way?” Irma watched Matt’s eyes nervously scan the room. She felt a sudden chill snake up her spine. “He’s at work right now. He’ll be back—soon. Let me see what you’ve brought me. Any clues that you know of?” Irma opened the file and scanned through several pages. When she looked up, Matt had donned a pair of latex gloves. Her heart leapt into her throat. What in the hell does he think he’s doing? Puzzled, she frowned and asked, “What…?” Matt stared at her, his face contorted in vicious rage and he pulled a thin cord out of his pocket, wrapping it around his latex-laden hands. For the first time in her life, Irma felt soul-deep fear. This man was getting ready to kill her. All of a sudden it became clear to Irma that Matt was her stalker, the man who had been threatening her life. Frozen with fear until the fight-or-flight adrenaline kicked in, Irma knew she had to get the hell out of there. But Matt was too quick for her. He grabbed her arm and looped the cord around her throat like a lasso. “You stupid bitch. I’ve been right under your nose the whole time and you didn’t have a clue. Some attorney you are. So stupid—it’s lawyers like you, getting known murderers off scot-free, that’s ruining our society. Those guys deserve to roast.” Irma’s hands grabbed the cord, attempting to pull it away from her neck so she could breathe. She wheezed out, “Why?” “It was my step-brother he killed. You never put two and two together because I have a different last name. You let him go, just like all the other murderers you’ve helped set free. Well, he’s the last murderer you’ll ever help escape their due reward—burning in eternal damnation.” Irma fought for every breath, but she was no match for Matt’s 74

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strength. Then she heard Matt grunt and the cord around her neck went slack. Irma took a deep breath, jerking away from him and falling on the floor. Irma watched as Wray punched Matt in the ribs, head, then a repeat blow to the ribs, just for good measure. Matt hit the floor, out cold from the blows. Wray left Matt on the floor, after slapping handcuffs on him. “Don’t worry. He’s not going anywhere except a jail cell.” Wray quickly moved to Irma’s side, taking her in his arms. “Are you okay, kitten?” She finally felt safe, but her body began shaking uncontrollably and she rubbed her throat where the cord had been. But when he folded her tighter into his arms, she began to sob. He carried her over to the couch and sat her on his lap. “Let me look at your neck. Can you swallow?” “Yes, but it hurts.” “You’re going to have a welt across your neck and it’ll be sore for a while, but it’ll heal.” Irma buried her head on his shoulder and let the tears flow while Wray stroked her hair and consoled her. Once her tears subsided, he moved her off his lap. “Kitten, I’m sorry, but we’ll need to go downtown and file a report. Are you up to that yet?” She nodded and her voice sounded gruff to her own ears. “I’m ready to get this whole mess behind me.” “That’s my girl.” He gave her a small kiss and went to lift a groaning Matt to a standing position.” “Let’s go, man.” He walked him downstairs and placed him in his car, then called a report into the station, letting them know he was bringing Matt in. Irma climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. * * * Once the reports were finished at the police station, Wray offered to 75

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drive her home. It was the first time he’d seen where she lived and he was quite impressed with the decor. He knew she must make a lot of money to afford a place like this in this town. He could tell it was decorated in her style. Unlike his place, cluttered and furnished with early attic. “Man, this is nice.” “You like it? I bought it about two years ago.” She puttered to the kitchen and brought back a beer for him and a glass of wine for her. “Have a seat.” Wray perched on the end of the couch, uncomfortable in such a luxurious place. He felt out of his element and the whole thing hit him—they would never work as a couple. What in the hell had he been thinking? The truth was, Wray hadn’t been thinking, he’d been feeling, and he well knew the dangers of that. Wray stood abruptly and announced, “I need to get going.” * * * Irma, seeming to sense something was amiss, grabbing his arm. “Would you mind if I ask you a favor, Wray?” “No, go ahead.” “Would you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.” “Sure.” He wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head on his chest. She raised herself on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “What was that for?” “For saving my life and just being here.” “Well, if you really want to pay me back…” He let the innuendo slide and laughed when she punched him in the arm. He gathered her back into his arms and said, “Seriously, my heart literally stopped beating when I walked in and saw him choking you. I can’t imagine life without you, Irma. I don’t want my life to be without you. I want very much to spend the rest of it with you.” Irma smiled at him with tears in her eyes. “Even if I am a defense attorney?” 76

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“Yeah, even if you are a damn lawyer.” “How would you feel about a district attorney?” “Much better.” “Mmmm, I thought so. Well, there just so happens to be a job opening. It’ll mean a cut in pay, but it’s just money.” “Really? That’s great.” “Although, I’ll probably have to give up this great apartment. I likely won’t be making enough to keep it.” “I know the perfect place.” Irma grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom, “Well, now that matter is settled, let’s see what I can do about paying you back. I believe I have a new, sheer teddy to show off.”

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VELVET VEERS

Velvet Veers divides her time between homes in Texas, Louisiana, and Minnesota. She has been writing for ten years, has published three books under different pen names, and written two screenplays, one of which has been optioned by a major independent film production company. She has contracted three separate trilogies of e-novellas for Amber Quill Press’s “Amber Heat” imprint: Companionship, Inc., Virtual Fantasy, Inc., and Road Warriors, Inc. A new title will appear each month, beginning in June 2003! Velvet has undergraduate degrees in business and psychology and a master degree in counseling. She loves to read, run, ride Gold-Wing motorcycles, snow ski, travel and write. She has six children, three dogs and two cats. She loves to hear from her readers, so please visit her web site at: http://www.velvetveers.com

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Don’t miss Virtual Fantasy, Inc.: Book III: Virtual Hearts Club, by Velvet Veers, available Winter, 2003, from Amber Quill Press, LLC

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