Intimate Knowledge (11 page)

“Well, we know what we think their target will be,” Jennifer interjected. “And even though I was in school the last time I visited, the Gallery is bloody huge. Why don’t we go there, have a look around. We can see if we recognise any of the areas from the surveillance photos. That at least would be another connection and something we can take to your Agency.”

“I’m not sure I want you there,” Saul replied. He roamed his gaze over her face possessively. “These people will know what you look like, and other than their names, we don’t know anything about Vincent and his mate. It would be dangerous for you.”

“At the National Gallery, with thousands of other visitors and tourists?” Jennifer replied. She took Saul’s hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Saul, we’ll be careful, and surrounded by great big crowds of people. Look, you can call Preston and ask him if there’s an update on Vincent if it will make you feel better. But honestly, what could possibly happen to me in such a huge place and with you right by my side?”

George shouted with a crack of laughter.

“Oh dear, you must be very new to all this. Those are words you never, ever say on a mission. Trust me.”

Jennifer grinned, the mood having lifted with George’s amusement. Saul, however, still looked torn. Jennifer pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll follow whatever orders you issue. I don’t like the thought of you going there alone, and besides, this is my adventure too. I want to come along. Please.”

Saul sighed.

“You better remember that tomorrow—your promise to follow my orders,” he reiterated.

She smiled, glad he’d capitulated.

Saul saved copies of the blueprints and other maps of the National Gallery, emailing them to himself. Minutes later he started closing down the browsers.

“I owe you, George. Thanks, man,” Saul said.

George nodded as he disconnected the card reader and ejected the plastic security pass. He looked at it a moment, then held it out to Saul.

“You realise we’ll have to hand this in when we go to Preston, don’t you?”

Saul nodded.

“Yeah. But I’d rather have it on me tomorrow when we check out the Gallery. I doubt we’ll need it, but I’ll feel better having it in my pocket. Can you sit on this for a day?”

“Sure,” George said. “It’ll be Sunday, anyway. No one from management will be in, and even if we talked to Preston I doubt he’d call them in with what we have. One day won’t make a difference.”

The two men stood and shook hands. Jennifer grinned as George turned to her and she returned his handshake.

“It was lovely to meet you,” she said with feeling.

He chuckled.

“You too. I presume I’ll be seeing you around?”

“Jennifer will be around,” Saul replied as he wrapped an arm possessively across her shoulders.

She grinned happily up at him. “Maybe for a beer or dinner one night down at the local pub?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you Monday, man.”

George walked them out.

When they’d climbed into the car, Saul revved the engine, peeled away from the kerb. Jennifer looked around them, half expecting to see someone trying to follow them. When it became clear no one was behind the car, she turned to look curiously at Saul.

“I wasn’t kidding back there,” he said without taking his attention from the road. “I’m burning up for you, babe. We could teleport back to my place and it still wouldn’t be quick enough for my liking.”

Jennifer sat back in her seat, her desire instantly flaming once again. She nodded. More promising words weren’t necessary when she felt exactly the same. He knew it and she knew it.

“Step on it,” she ordered.

* * * *

They started kissing before Saul had even closed the door behind them.

Ravenous for him, Jennifer clasped his shoulders with her hands, scraping her blunt nails over his skin as she tried to remove his shirt and jacket. His buttons popped and she didn’t feel the least bad. His clothes were the enemy, hiding the beauty of his body from her.

Saul tugged her shirt up over her head, exposing her lacy bra to the cool air. He pressed his body against hers. She shivered as her naked back hit the chilly wall. They each grappled with shoes, waistbands and finally each other’s underwear.

“I need to feel you,” she panted, devouring the sight of his luscious, muscled body with her gaze.

Saul didn’t reply—a small grunting sound of assent emanated from his lips instead.

His hands were warm on her bare hips. He swung her around from the wall, pivoting so she faced the back of the couch.

“Hold onto it,” he said.

She clasped her hands onto the top of the backrest, looking over her shoulder at him. He’d ducked for a moment, digging one hand into his crumpled jeans for a foil packet. As he sheathed his thick cock Jennifer’s mouth watered.

She’d wanted to suck him, feel his head spurt and tremble beneath her tongue. They were both too worked up for a long, slow mouth-fuck, though, the intricate, intimate dance of back-and-forth between them having burnt and built for too long throughout the day. Saul tugged her hips back, causing her to bend over—her naked arse waggling in the air.

“Damn, I want to fuck that arse,” Saul ground out hotly.

Cream pooled slickly in her pussy. How could such simple words make her so aroused? Particularly when she’d never performed that specific act and until discovering the magic between them, hadn’t felt the least desire to do so.

Saul reached one hand around from her pelvis, spreading her arse cheeks until he could stroke a finger over the tiny, puckered opening of her anus. His digit seemed to find a whole host of nerve endings, each one jolting to life and telling Jennifer in no uncertain terms why some women enjoyed that decadent act so much.

“Shit,” she panted, all other words flying out of her mind. She arched her back, pushing her arse farther into his reach.

“I don’t have the patience for that tonight,” he said sadly, “but I do think we’ll go there some other time. For now, though…”

After a few more strokes he lowered his hand to slide nimbly over her soaking lips and eagerly sought out the heat of her clit. Her eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed over her nub with devastating skill.

She moaned loudly and wriggled her arse into him, begging silently for more.

“That’s my girl,” he crooned. “Do you know how gorgeous you look? Naked as sin, bum in the air as I prepare you for my cock?”

She felt three long, thick fingers enter her swiftly, pumping and stretching her channel. She groaned, unable to find words to reply.

“Oh yeah, take all of me, that’s it.”

Rocking back, eagerly accepting his penetration, Jennifer craved more. After a whole day of their mutual teasing and swift, too-brief touches and stolen, hot kisses she was horny as hell. She needed him as hard and fast as he’d promised her so darkly earlier.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded, pushing her hips to entice him. “Hard. Fast. Right now, like you said.”

“Holy shit,” Saul cursed, the strain in his voice showing his control was as thin as hers.

He removed his fingers from her clenching pussy, lifted his hand around to press down at the base of her spine, tilting her arse farther up. In one long, slow stroke he moved inside her, his cock piercing her with an intensity that stole her breath.

Deeper and deeper he thrust, the motion continuing forever. His inches seemed endless, until finally he stopped, his balls slapping lightly against her.

“Hang on, babe,” he murmured huskily.

Saul grabbed hold of her hips and pulled out of her only to slam back in again. At the different angle she stood at, his shaft pressed over a different set of nerves, including her G-spot. The stimulation was intense, but still she craved more. Jennifer released one hand from the back of the couch to caress her clit. That, coupled with Saul removing his cock and again possessing her quickly ratcheted up her excitement.

Harder and faster they both came together, the only sound in the room was their gasping, panting breaths. Jennifer groaned, her climax building somewhere between her belly and pussy. Her skin prickled with sensation, the thick possession of Saul’s cock driving her wild.

He slammed into her, over and over, stealing her breath in the same way that he’d taken her heart. All too soon the pleasure burst and she felt as if she exploded into tiny pieces.

Screaming her orgasm, she shouted Saul’s name, the pleasure more than intense—it bordered on painful.

“Fuck yes, just like that, babe,” he cried out, his thrusts deeper and harder. Suddenly, he shuddered and pumped his seed deeply within her body. Saul dug his hands into her hips, holding her still as he emptied himself.

They stood frozen like that for a moment, locked together.

Finally, her legs shook with reaction as the adrenaline faded.

Saul carefully pulled his cock out of her, scooped one arm under her legs and swept her up close to his body.

Feeling sated and blissful, Jennifer wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed her forehead to his chest.

“I needed that,” she murmured.

He carried her to the bedroom and gently placed her on the mattress. She tilted her head up and they shared a lingering, tender kiss.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered.

She watched while he removed the latex, and left the room. After a moment she heard the tap water running.

Shaky, but with her skin still highly sensitised, Jennifer pulled the blankets down and crawled between the sheets. Lying on one side she waited for Saul to rejoin her. He didn’t take long. As comfortable as if they’d been together for years, he climbed next to her in the bed, entwining their arms together with familiar ease.

“I can’t imagine this getting any better,” he confessed.

She smiled.

“I can. The more we learn about each other and the closer we get, the more special this will become. Just think of all those tiny, intimate details we have to learn about one another. I can’t wait to learn them all, and see all these other sides to you I never knew about before. I get a thrill of excitement just thinking about it.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” He chuckled. Saul bent to lick and nibble a slow trail down the side of her neck.

Jennifer shivered in delight—she had quite a few erogenous nerves at the base of her neck in the juncture of her collarbone.

“Mmm,” Saul murmured. “I see what you mean. I can’t wait to explore every inch of you.”

She laughed huskily, more than willing to start right there and then.

Chapter Seven

It had been more than a decade since Jennifer had stood inside the National Gallery, but the magnificence of the architecture still had her gaping in amazement. High-soaring ceilings, the dome, intricately carved cornices—the whole place was stunning.

She and Saul had spent almost two hours roaming around, appearing as nothing more than innocent locals whiling away a late Sunday morning. Hand in hand, their fingers entwined, they looked…well, exactly like the lovers they were. Surely no one could mistake the glances they shot at each other, or the possessive way Saul leaned close when he pointed something out to her—or she to him.

“There are only three exhibits the Gallery is promoting, but there’s so much more here. They could be after anything,” Jennifer commented, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Some of her jitters had returned too. Preston had reported he had suspicions Vincent and a man who fitted the description of this associate, Graeme, hadn’t been seen since mid-afternoon the day before.

Despite the safety she felt with Saul, her nerves were unsettled, her instincts knowing those men were both loose somewhere, possibly lurking under the radar.

“I’ve seen some very strange things over the years,” Saul replied. He squeezed her hand and her heart fluttered, focusing her attention on him again. “If it’s a private collector instigating this then he could literally be after anything. It might be an obscure sculpture no one has heard of, or one of these beginners might be his estranged son and have massive sentimental attachments and no inherent monetary value at all. It’s impossible to say.”

Jennifer nodded and stared at the painting they stood before.

The local art school had been given a tiny corridor, which they’d dedicated to their internal award winners. Amateurs, but already incredibly talented, the running theme seemed to be the individual’s own personal take on more famous work. A statue clearly mimicking the famous Venus was of a bustier, larger woman with short, cropped hair. The Mona Lisa had been transferred into a well-known politician, the secretive smile seeming far more sinister now than the famous painting.

All sorts of well-recognised Masters had clearly influenced the winners.

But Jennifer had been ensnared by a beautiful beach landscape. A tall, dapper black man in a navy blue, thinly pinstriped suit danced with a svelte, Caucasian blonde woman in a slinky, glittery cocktail dress. It took her a moment to place the original—The Singing Butler.

Realising she’d been staring at the painting, Jennifer glanced at Saul. His gaze roamed the vivid colours and bold strokes also. She smiled fondly at him, pleased to see him as enthralled by the romantic image as she.

“It’s captivating,” he said. “I like the way his arms cradle his love. There’s an inherent gentleness in the way he’s guiding her.”

“They seem to be leading each other,” she postulated. “Facing each other while they dance, but with their torsos angled so their backs are turned to us they’re equals. Because they’re moving away from the viewer and captured in that moment you can’t see who’s in control. How can you tell he’s guiding her? She might be in the lead.”

Saul chuckled.

“Is a woman ever really not in charge of her man?”

Jennifer grinned but was clever enough not to answer that.

“I wonder if the tide’s coming in or going out?” she mused. Jennifer had meant to merely think the query, but such personal thoughts had a habit of slipping out when she was with Saul. Her guard was always relaxed around him, she trusted him implicitly. No thought was too strange or too personal to share with him.