Dirty (34 page)

“I want you to leave this office and spend the afternoon telling all your friends, including those still on HPD, that you and I are no longer on speaking terms.
 
I’ve kicked you out of my life because of some fool story I learned while snooping around in this case.”
 
That info would get back to Brooks in two shakes.

“What’s that supposed to prove?” Hank demanded.
 
The heat of anger had given way to disappointment.
 
I heard it in his voice.
 
Saw it in the set of his shoulders.

“I’m setting the stage.
 
I want Brooks or anyone else who might have been involved with Disposable to think you and I are on the outs and that I know something damning.”

I prepared for the fallout.

“You’re trying to get yourself killed, little girl.
 
That’s what you’re doing.”
 
Hank pushed to his feet.
 
“I won’t have any part in it.
 
You do what you have to and I’ll do the same.”

He wheeled around and headed for the door.

My heart shot out of the chute like a wild mustang and started to buck erratically...surely he hadn’t meant that.
 
“Hank!”
 
He paused at the door and turned back to me. “You do understand that this is just part of my set-up.”

He didn’t answer but he did wink at me and I understood that things were as okay as they could be right now.
 
Which wasn’t saying a hell of a lot.
 
I could only assume that he wanted to keep Dawson off balance.
 
Here we were on the same team and not one fully trusted the other.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

My attention whipped back to Dawson.
 
I met that piercing gaze with lead in my own.
 
“My strategy involves only one thing, Dawson.”

Those blue eyes didn’t back off, just kept trying to penetrate my defenses.
 
“And what is that?”

“Whatever it takes.”

He refused to look at me then.

“Until this is done,” I continued whether he looked at me or not, “I want the world to believe that I’ve fired you.
 
Apply for jobs elsewhere.
 
Complain about me to anyone who will listen.
 
I’ll contact you through Hobbs until further notice.”

“Fine.”

He got up and walked out without a backward glance.
 
I didn’t try to stop him.

There were things I could have said, assurances I could have given.
 
But I hadn’t.
 
It was better this way.
 
I needed this set-up to feel real.

Hobbs wandered into my office.
 
“So Dawson is fired and you’re not speaking to Hank.”

I nodded.

“Well, are you speaking to Bob?”

Anticipation spiked.
 
“Fraley?”

“The one and only.” Hobbs gestured to my phone. “Line one.”

I snatched up the receiver.
 
“Mercer.”

“I just got off the phone with Hank,” he said, dispensing with the usual pleasantries.
 
“He’s pretty upset.”

“Well, so am I,” I returned, keeping up the pretense.
 
As much as I wanted to trust Bob, I couldn’t be a hundred percent.

“Just remember, Jackie,” he warned after taking a long drag from his cigarette, then blowing it out right against the mouthpiece of the phone, “things are not always what they seem.
 
Illusion is a powerful persuader.
 
Can keep us from seeing what we really don’t want to see.”

The call ended on that note and I couldn’t help speculating on whether Bob had been talking about this case or was referring to my relationship with my father and uncle.
 
Men in general, for that matter.
 
Somehow relationships never worked exactly right for me.
 
Or maybe it was the men I chose.
 
Who knew?
 
The kryptonite theory flitted through my muddled musings.

I didn’t have time to worry about that right now.
 
I had one more move to make.

By seven that evening the ball was rolling.
 
According to Donna, Hank had spent the afternoon at the Pistols and Petticoats Pub, a local cop hangout.
 
Hopefully he would continue to do as I asked and spread the word that we were on the outs.

Dawson had called my cell about six and let me know that he’d hung out at a diner all afternoon poring over the help wanted section of the classifieds.
 
Awkward stretches of dead air in the conversation had warned me that he wanted to ask about my plans with Willis but he didn’t.

I was glad.

If I was lucky the news of the division at the Mercer Agency had reached Brooks by now.
 
And any damned one else who had reason to care.

Throughout the afternoon Dawson had tried repeatedly to intrude into my thoughts but I kicked him out each time.
 
How could he ask me if I intended to fuck Willis for information?
 
Well, it just showed that he didn’t really know me at all.
 
That I allowed his asking to get to me only infuriated me all the more.
 
My plan was, fortunately, proving useful on another level.
 
Dawson and I needed the distance.

I parked in front of the ritzy condo that belonged to Ken Willis, aka Kevin Williams, and slid out of my faithful old Jeep.
 
I reached back inside for my purse, which contained the necessary props for tonight’s performance and Shorty—I wouldn’t be caught dead without him, if you know what I mean.

Before heading to the door I took a deep, bolstering breath.
 
This was it.
 
My one ace in the hole.
 
Whatever happened I could not screw this up.

I’d splurged on a new mantrap outfit.
 
Lipstick red leather mini with black thigh-high stockings.
 
The matching red lace-up bustier showed off just enough to whet the appetite.
 
I flipped my hair over my shoulder, slung my purse strap there—I’d opted for a more casual Kate Spade knock-off—and took the plunge.

One ring of the bell brought the man of the hour to the door.
 
He looked striking as always.
 
His jaw was still just a tad swollen.
 
Black Armani trousers with a silvery shirt that could be Versace or Dior.
 
He liked both.
 
He also liked it a lot when I looked slutty, like now.
 
Hell, for that matter, I even liked it.

“You look great,” Willis said with a big old breathy sound of satisfaction.
 
“Come in.”

I moved through the door and immediately made myself at home.
 
Remembering my mother’s advice, I took it slow.
 
Took my time building up his ego with small talk.

Willis had prepared dinner.
 
That was just another thing about him.
 
His culinary skills were nothing short of remarkable.
 
Oysters on the half shell (imagine that) for an appetizer; Lobster and grilled salmon on a bed of rice as the entree.
 
Five hundred dollar a bottle wine.
 
Only the best.

When dinner was behind us and things had started to get cozy in the living room, I grabbed my bag and headed for the bathroom.
 
The one off the master bedroom.

I did a little necessary business, then brushed my teeth and reapplied my lip gloss.
 
Did a pit check and popped two Altoids.
 
I took some time fiddling with my hair.
 
I’d left it down.
 
He liked it that way.

Before making my exit, I tucked a couple more Altoids in my mouth, hoping the pay off would be worth the burn.

He waited in his bedroom as I’d known he would.
 
He’d kicked off his expensive shoes and relaxed into an upholstered chair that flanked the massive dresser.
 
Miles Davis played softly in the background.
 
I abruptly wondered what kind of music Dawson liked.
 
Then reminded myself I wasn’t supposed to care.

I deposited my bag near the bedside table and strode over to Willis.
 
I took his hands in mine and pulled him to his feet.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”
 
I said this on a lusty breath that made him visibly shiver.
 
I couldn’t deny my own primitive anticipation building.

One button at a time came loose beneath my fingertips as I worked my way from his throat to his waist.
 
I’d almost succeeded in blocking from my memory just how handsome he was...how I knew his skin would feel...and nature showed me who was boss.
 
I might never pick the right guy as far as the emotional stuff went, but I had some damned good taste otherwise.
 
I watched him watch me and couldn’t help being turned on.

I tugged the open shirt from his trousers and pushed it off his bare shoulders, selfishly enjoying the feel of his hot skin beneath my palms.
 
I leaned close and inhaled his cologne.
 
Vera Wang for men.
 
Very sexy.
 
Very expensive.
 
He had it all...looks, money, charm...every woman’s fantasy.

Yet, as good as he smelled...as intriguing as he could be...I still preferred Dawson’s subtle fragrance and incorrigible unpredictability...

I gritted my teeth and evicted Dawson for the dozenth time.

Then I did that thing that drove Willis crazy.
 
I licked his nipple with my freshly invigorated tongue.
 
He groaned.
 
Old Monica had known what she was doing with those Altoids.

I closed my eyes and let myself go.
 
I knew what he wanted...what he liked and I gave it to him.
 
A means to an end, I reminded the part of me that threatened to rebel.

The belt hit the floor and the trousers came off.
 
I backed him onto the bed.
 
He kept kissing my face...my cheek, my nose, my forehead.
 
I wouldn’t let him touch my lips...just couldn’t do it.

“Jackie,” he whispered. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
 
He left a trail of kisses along my shoulder.
 
“Couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted you.”

I pressed my finger to his lips.
 
“Lie down,” I ordered.

When I had him flat on his back, I crawled up the length of him and leaned down to retrieve the cuffs from my bag, allowing my still-restrained breasts to brush over his chest.

He groaned and reached for the laces of my bustier but I pushed his hands away.
 
I tethered one wrist to the big brass headboard, then the other.
 
He looked a little hesitant when the second bracelet snapped into place, but I teased his nipple again and he forgot all about it.

The Whip Cream came next.
 
I drew a line down the center of his chest and started to lap it up like a hungry cat, so damned slowly and thoroughly I thought I might melt before he did.

His breathing grew more rapid, more uneven. “You’re killing me,” he panted.

I kissed a path back to his face and whispered seductively, “I’m so glad we didn’t let that uptight shit Brooks ruin things.”
 
I touched the tip of my tongue to the shell of his ear, then blew.
 
He shivered.

“You have no idea.”
 
He rubbed his thigh against my hip since his hands were restrained, tried to draw me closer.

I tugged at his earlobe with my teeth. “I can imagine,” I murmured softly, allowing my lips to move against his jaw.

The more I nibbled and licked, the more he opened up.
 
It was like once he got started he couldn’t stop.
 
He swore his trouble in San Antonio had been a one-time thing.
 
A mistake.
 
Brooks had taken advantage of it, wouldn’t let it go...kept using him anytime he needed something.

“But I do have him to thank for meeting you,” Willis choked out, thankfully drawing my attention from the trail I was making to the waistband of his boxers.

I moved forward on all fours, and whispered against his mouth, “Really?”
 
Finally we were getting somewhere.
 
I nipped his bottom lip then very slowly, making each move as erotic as possible I backed off the bed to start my striptease.
 
I propped one foot on the bedside table.
 
Rolled down the stocking and slipped off my shoe.
 
As soon as the first piece of sheer silk landed on his stomach he started talking again.