Hooked (4 page)

“And what about Serena?” Melody asked. “Dead. Fished out of the river. Who could have done such a thing?”

Benny’s stomach took a dive. What if the cops asked his women? Should he tell them to shut up? No. That would look like he had something to hide. Better keep his mouth shut. He hoped he didn’t visibly show concern. Melody’s voice broke through his meandering thoughts. So did her hands, unzipping his fly.

“Does Daddy want Mommy today? Or does he want Melody the wicked stepmother?”

Her long, slim fingers slipped inside to stroke his cock with a feel-good, gentle touch. Unfortunately, it took longer these days to get off. It wasn’t age, he didn’t think. More like what used to turn him on didn’t work as fast anymore. He constantly needed more kink. His girls were patient and considered arousing him a challenge. They never acted bored. The money was too good.

“Save the mommy routine for the fat man tonight. This time he wants baby sister to watch. Since you and Cindi got on so well, Colin asked if she’d grab a rattle and crawl all over him while you take him to Never-Never Land.”

“Never-Never Land is a whole continent with that one. Good thing I work out. I’m always afraid he’s going to bounce on the wrong place and break something.” She sighed. “But for now?”

“Make me happy, baby. Start with these.” He held up a pair of custom-made nipple clamps. “Then…you know what I like. You can finish with a massage.”

Melody straddled him. He squished her breasts together and licked and sucked enough to get her hot, careful never to leave marks. Her satisfaction wasn’t a priority, but he wanted her to enjoy what she was doing so she’d be more enthused about pleasing him. After all, that was the whole point of getting laid, wasn’t it? Male satisfaction?

“
Yeah, how’s that?” he said, pretending to care.

Leaning down, she murmured in his ear. “You’re the best
, Benny.”

Of course I am
.

He closed his eyes. She clamped one nipple at a time, holding the chain that connected them between her teeth while her hands teased his erogenous zones to heighten the pleasure.

“Oh, Jesus,” he said, as the pain shot through his chest and tweaked his dick. His fingers tightened on her nipples in concert with the exquisite pressure she exerted by moving her head, pulling him one way, then another. After tightening the clamps, she sat up. To Benny’s delight, she never allowed her gentle but prodding fingers to lose interest for more than a few seconds. His erection blossomed.

“Who said women were the only ones to derive pleasure from these little torture toys?” Benny found the torque quite sensual. Once the nipples were numb, the pain subsided, but keeping the clamps on too long cut off blood circulation. The real erotic pain hit when they were removed and the blood rushed back.

Then his cell phone rang.

The hell with it.

But what if it’s important?

He motioned to Melody to get his phone. Letting go of her nipples, he latched onto the phone and checked the number.
Rats! The woman wouldn’t call him if it weren’t important.

“Hello. Oh my God,” he moaned, clapping his hand over his mouth. He waved at Melody to stop her glorious manipulations.

“Are you all right, Mr. Cooper?”

“No, I mean,
I mean, yes, I’m fine, Mrs. van Syke.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. Is something wrong? Is Jenny okay?”

“
Um, here, she wants to speak to you.”

“Daddy. I don’t feel well. I want to go home.”

“Of course, honey.” An apologetic glance at Melody. She tightened the screw. “Oww, fuck! What are you doing?” Benny cried as Melody loosened the clamp.

“What did you say, Daddy?”

Shit
! Benny rolled his eyes at Melody. “I said truck. Silvie will come get you in her pick-up truck. Mommy will be home in a little while, I’m sure. Silvie will give you something for your stomach, okay, Jenny baby?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“I’ll call you later. Daddy loves you.”

He clicked off the phone. “Jesus, you almost tore off my nipple.”

“I’m sorry, Benny. I thought I was loosening it. I have this directional problem.”

“I’ll say.” Melody wiped the sweat from Benny’s forehead. “Left, loosen; right, tighten. It really isn’t hard to fathom.”

“Gotcha.” Melody frowned apologetically. “Won’t happen again. Promise.”

“Okay, okay. I need to make a call.” He called the maid at the house and told her to pick up Jennifer at the van Sykes
’. “There’s children’s stomach medicine in Jen’s bathroom, Silvie. Give her a dose. My wife should be home soon.” He listened, agreed, and hung up.

“Now, where were we, sweetheart?”

“I’m afraid I was tearing off your nipple, Benny. Should I loosen the clamps now?”

“Yeah, they’ve been on long enough, and amazingly, that extra twist aroused me more than ever. Should be a major high.”

Melody slowly released the pressure, and the initial shock detonated stabs of glorious pain to Benny’s brain. He expelled an almost feral moan. The result turned arousal into a full-fledged, swollen hard-on. Melody applied an oral balm to reduce the soreness around his purplish nipples, slid down, and took him in her mouth, flicking her tongue over the head of his cock. One hand slid under his buttocks; the other massaged his testicles. The triple manipulation made Benny forget he was fifty years old. More like twenty again, heading for an outer galaxy in the heavens.

T
he hotel was booked solid due to a writers’ convention, which left Linc without a room. He needed to get his overnight bag from his car so he could shower and change. He trusted Tawny not to run a disappearing act on him. She said she wouldn’t, and she hadn’t lied so far. Maybe he was being conned, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt. She wouldn’t be hard to find if she skipped.

“I’ll be here,” she said. “There’s no warrant for my arrest, is there?”

“No. We thought we’d try the
quid pro quo
approach first.”

“You mean I screw over Benny Cooper so the IRS doesn’t screw me over, is that it?”

She sure had a way of nailing it. “Something like that.”

“Then if Cooper gets off, he gets his shot at me.”

“That won’t happen.”

She scoffed and pulled a bra and panties from the dresser drawer. “I know how these things work, Detective Walsh. I’m the pro in
quid pro quo
, remember?”

“Take your shower. If you don’t mind, I’ll take one after.”

She blinked in surprise. “Are you moving in with me?”

The thought stabbed Linc in the gut. “Just for tonight. No rooms in the inn. I checked. I could pull the cop thing, but I’d rather keep a low profile.” He pointed to the other room. “Sofa bed. I’ll even take you out to dinner to explain what we want you to
do.”

“Then your office can pay for the night’s hotel charge. I don’t do anything for free. Remember that too.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

She pulled her wet dress over her head and stood naked in front of him. It was the second time she’d done that, and each time the sight of her magnificent body had the same effect. He watched her gaze lower to the swelling inside his wet pants.

“Seems like you’re the one with the hard bargain, Walsh.” Then she turned and strolled into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. “Key card’s on the dresser.”

Fuck! Fuck!
He left the room and hustled down the long corridor to the elevators. His rain-soaked pants clung to his legs like packing tape. Goddamn uncomfortable. What was wrong with him? The woman was a hooker, and he was a sex crime investigator. That’s supposed to be like oil and water, but it felt more like accelerant and match.
Get hold of yourself.
Take a Valium or whatever you can find to make stubborn dicks behave.

Ignoring the stares, he stopped in the bar and ordered a double vodka. He’d anesthetize himself. That would keep everything in place. He always called the shots when it came to women. This one had him tied in knots. All he could think of was getting her in bed. Maybe he should call the captain. No, he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

The drink relaxed him and the walk to the car helped. Exercise. That’s what he needed. And a cold shower and another drink. And a five-fucking-mile run.

* * * * *

T
awny turned on water in the tub as hot as she could stand. The wet dress had served its purpose, but by the time she shed it she was shivering in the air-conditioned room. She poured the tiny bottle of hotel bubble bath into the gushing surge and stepped in. Frothy foam surrounded her. Total immersion, that’d relax her. She slid down into the water until she was completely submerged, a feeling akin to being ensconced in a warm, toasty blanket. Lack of air forced her to the surface. She took a deep breath and let it out with a weary sigh.

Why was she so tense? Aside from the fact the government wanted a piece of her, like everyone else, what had her on edge? She knew what, but she couldn’t admit it.

All the years she’d been in the life, she’d never been attracted to anyone enough to get involved. They were business clients, contributors to her retirement so when the time came she’d never have to do anything she didn’t want to. Even her regulars, men she knew well, never tempted her. Oh, some tried. A few even offered marriage―after they divorced their wives. Many weren’t married, but there were obvious reasons that kept them from being good bets. Not that she expected to play out the hand.

She loved her independence. Loved taking off when she wanted to, scouring ruins in Italy and Greece. Enjoyed vacationing with exciting men. They wanted her because they couldn’t have her, and that made it fun. She did what they wanted in return. Most of that was fun too. But it was always business.

So what was happening with Lincoln Walsh? She turned him on, that was a no-brainer. He had a bulge in his pants the size of a bus since he hit on her at the beach. But he had an unusual effect on her too. One she couldn’t control. Yeah, he was handsome. She’d been with plenty of handsome men. Rich too. As a cop, she figured Walsh made just enough to keep him in Italian shoes. To her, man and money were separate, and money alone had never roused her interest. It was a means to an end, and she didn’t need anyone to supply it for her. She’d done fine by herself. There was something about this one, though. Underneath his tough exterior hid a softness he’d detest if he knew he possessed it.

She slipped under the water again.

* * * * *

T
he door to the bathroom was still ajar. Linc glanced in. Tawny’s long, sleek legs rested on the outside edge of the tub, piercing a surface of bubbles. He didn’t see her head, and nothing moved. Not the water. Not Tawny.

Hot prickles of fear spiked every nerve ending. She wouldn’t. Throwing his bag down, he slammed the bathroom door back against the wall and rushed inside.

“What?” she asked, emerging from under the suds. “What’s the matter?”

He stopped short, his heart pounding. She was all right. “Nothing. Nothing’s the matter. Sorry. Sorry.” Embarrassed at his overreaction, he backed out of the bathroom and bee-lined to the balcony. He fastened his shaky hands to the railing to steady them and sucked in long breaths of fresh air.

The scene brought back another time, long ago. He didn’t have those flashbacks often, but when he did, it took everything out of him. Settling down, he watched the waves roll in, one after another. When he was a kid, Harry took him to the beach, and Linc found solace in the constant, hypnotizing undulation of the ocean, without understanding its perpetual locomotion. Harry told him if the ocean stopped moving, the planet would cease to exist.

The ocean still moved, the rain had stopped, and the sun peeked hazily through a break in the clouds. Crazy weather. Crazy life.

“You okay?”

He hadn’t heard her approach and turned abruptly. She wore a pair of royal blue slacks and a tee shirt that must have been dyed to match her turquoise eyes. Barefoot, with a blue rubber band fastening her wet hair in a ponytail, she looked like an innocent, buffed clean and polished.

He nodded.

“You scared me to death. What did you think, that I slit my wrists? Or maybe you thought I drowned myself.”

He shrugged, turning away so she wouldn’t see how the bathroom scene had affected him. Of all the examples, why did she have to bring up that one?

“Nothing you have on me would make me do that,” she said. “I like myself too much.”

He saw her try to make eye contact when he didn’t answer, and he connected briefly.

“I’ve filled the tub. Go on. It’ll relax you. You’re wound in knots.”

“I’ll just shower.”

“The bath’s ready. Don’t waste water.”

Their gazes met, and this time he smiled. “Thanks. I haven’t taken a bath in years. Always in too much of a hurry.” A white lie, but that was okay.

“Don’t hurry now. We have all night.”

He put the all night thought out of his mind and headed for the bathroom.

* * * * *

T
hey settled on dinner at the hotel. The
maître ’d
ushered them to a table for two overlooking the ocean. The calmness of the setting sun conflicted with the tenseness radiating from Tawny like heat waves. The waiter took their order―Tawny a Perrier and a grilled vegetable plate; he ordered vodka on the rocks and a steak, medium rare.

“You don’t eat meat?” he asked, buttering a roll from the bread basket.

“Nope. Not since I was a kid. Our grammar school took us to a farm in the country. It was also an abattoir. I peeked in back, saw the slaughtered animals, and that was it. I haven’t been able to stomach meat since.”

“Bad field trip.
So you don’t eat meat and you don’t drink.”

“Nope again. Not in years. In my business, um, former business, a girl can’t get sloppy on the job. That’s when bad things happen.”

“Sounds like you’re a control freak.”

She relaxed and laughed for the first time. “Yeah, probably. Only about certain things, though.” The waiter brought their drinks, and she sipped hers. “You can tell me what this is about now so I lose my appetite, or you can wait until after we eat when I might lose my dinner. Maybe you’ve changed your mind and decided to keep it a secret.”

“No secret. Sorry.” He took a long, much-needed swallow of his vodka. Maybe Tawny had relaxed, but he was wound tight. “We think Cooper is using his clubs to gather information about his clients, then blackmailing them. If we grilled his girls, they’d tell him, and we’d have nowhere to go.”

“What clubs?”

Linc snorted. “Come on, Tawny. You know what clubs I mean. Maybe you even worked his place a time or two.”

“I told you, I never worked for anyone. That’s the truth.”

“Then cut the crap.”

The waiter came with their meals, and Linc waited until he left before picking up the conversation. He lowered his voice. “You know about the sex clubs. Every class act working the city knows Benny Cooper.”

“Why not get one of them to do your dirty work? I’ve retired, remember?”

“Because we don’t have serious enough bargaining chips with any of them, and we do with you. Drugs would be our only possibility. Cooper’s girls don’t use.”

Linc cut into his meat, but he didn’t eat it. He was having a hard time with this conversation. He liked Tawny. She was smart, at least IQ-wise, and didn’t make excuses about the path she took. He’d always tried to get girls out of the business, and here he was forcing one who’d quit to go back to work. Putting the squeeze on her made him uncomfortable.

“We could pull them in for prostitution, but they’d be out on a misdemeanor charge before the ink was dry on the fingerprint cards. Pros like you―like you used to be―have everything covered. Fake jobs and a client list who couldn’t get involved without dirtying their reputations or their marriages. Besides, word would get out, killing our chances of getting him on the bigger charges we think he deserves.”

Tawny speared a roasted red pepper, chewed slowly, and swallowed. “I could throw myself on the mercy of the court, pay the taxes and penalties. Maybe they’d be lenient and give me a pass.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Your past profession wouldn’t help your case. Judges frown on prostitution.” He watched as reality dawned on her, and she nodded in agreement.

Her fork hovered in midair. “I’m still not sure what you want me to do.”

“We’ve heard rumblings that Cooper’s filming his clients to blackmail them. We’d like you to go to work for him, get us proof.”

“If you don’t have proof, what makes you think he’s doing that?”

Linc swallowed hard. “One of his girls, at least that’s what we assume, called me about something that scared her silly. She didn’t say what but mentioned Cooper’s name. Either he’s into major kink, or he’s doing something even more illegal than running a sex club.”

“Could be another Benny Cooper. I’m sure he’s not the only one.”

“He isn’t.”

“Then what’s the prob―” She stopped and let out a long breath. After pushing aside her plate, she leaned back in her chair. “Oh, I see now.”

“Right. She’s the one we pulled out of the harbor. Sarah Marshall, working name, Serena. She called about a week before she washed up. I checked out all the Benjamins and Bennys, but finally zeroed in on this particular Cooper because of his wife, Eileen.”

“A former call girl. I get it. And now you think he’s involved in murder? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

“That’s what we want you to find out. The Marshall woman could have been killed by a john, a jealous boyfriend. Lots of possibilities. One thing she didn’t do is commit suicide. Women don’t jump into the harbor to end their lives. Off a bridge, maybe, but they rarely drown themselves. They either take pills or,” Linc hesitated, “take a bath with a razor blade.”

Tawny’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment before responding. “You’re probably right.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And Benny Cooper would hire me, why?”

Linc closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, expelling a quiet snicker. “An establishment like his would kill to have you. Any pimp dealing in high-priced call girls would.”

Tawny didn’t flinch. Why would she? That’s what she was.