Part 11 (2/2)

She wanted the gusto for herself.

And she was gonna get it.

DAVE L LARSON was living on easy street. Life didn't get much better than this. He lay back on the foofy pillows of Bea's overstuffed couch and toed off his shoes. He had it all. A hot chick and a growing reputation with the right people looking for his particular skills. was living on easy street. Life didn't get much better than this. He lay back on the foofy pillows of Bea's overstuffed couch and toed off his shoes. He had it all. A hot chick and a growing reputation with the right people looking for his particular skills.

And thanks to his handy-dandy off-site backup system the triad had no idea about, it'd taken him a couple of keystrokes and he'd made a spanking brand-new copy of the chip they wanted. No point in wasting time chasing his tie and the other chip when it wasn't any kind of real threat. He'd asked Bea enough questions to know her friend wasn't a problem. If there was one thing Dave prided himself in, it was his judgment of people.

”Hey, snook.u.ms, did you want a beer?” Bea asked as she curled up on the couch next to him. ”I'll get you one and you can tell me what you've heard about my photo shoots. I'm ready, you know. I've got the perfect lingerie coming and everything.”

Dave grimaced. He might actually have to find a way to make that happen for her. But at this point, he didn't have a clue. Time to change the subject.

Even though he'd intended to wait until after s.e.x, Dave pulled a box out of his jacket and handed it to Bea. Before, after, either way, he'd be getting s.e.x. This little gift would just ensure it'd keep coming.

”A present?” Bea said in that cute little girly voice that got him all excited. ”For me? How sweet of you.”

She leaned over, her lush b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his shoulder giving him s.h.i.+vers, and brushed a lip-gloss-infused kiss against his cheek. Even knowing he'd have a breakout as a result, Dave couldn't bring himself to wipe the stain away.

He forced himself to sit still as nerves scratched their way down his spine. This was the first present he'd given a woman, if you didn't count his mother. And he didn't. Had anything ever mattered as much as this moment? He felt he was putting everything on the line.

In the blink of an eye, Bea ripped through the wrapping he'd made the clerk redo three times until he'd been satisfied. When she lifted the lid of the velvet jeweler's case, her grin sparkled as bright as the diamonds nestled on the white satin.

”Oh, Davey,” she squealed, leaping across the couch to wrap those long, tan arms around his neck. Dave groaned as he slid his hands over her curves. She was a dream come true. Sweet, a little dumb, with a body better than any of his favorite p.o.r.n queens. He couldn't get enough of her.

She rained kisses over his face and neck, all the while hooking the five-carat diamond bracelet around her wrist. Dave sighed in pleasure.

”You like?” he asked as she held her arm out to admire the dangling ice. This was definitely worth tapping into his untraceable overseas account for the funds. ”That's just the beginning. You stick with me, you'll be wearing jewels from head to toe.”

Bea leaned back on her heels, her short dress hiked up to the thighs that he'd beg to taste again. The look she gave him was at odds with the airy persona he'd come to count on. ”I appreciate the gift, Dave. But I'm not with you for presents. Or even for that magazine shoot you've promised me. I'm with you because I like you. I really admire what you've made of your life.”

Dave ducked his head to hide his wince. Sure, she liked the picture he'd painted. Who wouldn't? He was custom-made for her, thanks to his ingenuity and brilliance. Not that he believed for a second that she'd stick around without jewels and incentives. But that was fine with Dave. It wasn't as if he'd stick around if she didn't have such well-stacked incentives herself.

”I mean, how many guys orphaned so young make a huge success like you did? You're a photographer to the stars. You're a self-made man. I admire all of that, especially what you told me about investing in the arts.” Bea gave him a s.e.xy look through her lashes. ”I'd really love to learn more about art. It's so s.e.xy.”

Dave chewed the inside of his cheek while he tried to remember what he'd told her. He really needed to start writing these things down.

Before he had to come up with anything, though, his cell chimed.

”Hang on,” he told her as he pulled it from the leather case on his belt. The tension in his body went into overdrive when he saw the three X's on the readout.

”Can I take this in your room? It's business and, you know, private.”

She didn't even take her eyes from the sparkles as she waved him on his way. Dave hurried to the lush delights of Bea's bedroom, and, with a wince, answered.

”Larson here.”

”Larson, my man. You've done us proud.” The voice was as smooth as gla.s.s, but Dave knew it could cut deep enough to slice his jugular. A man didn't make top lieutenant in a group as powerful as the triad without a deadly reputation. ”I wanted to personally thank you for the information on that chip. It's exactly what we were hoping for.”

Dave wiped the bead of sweat from his upper lip. ”You, uh, you got it all to open, right? No questions on anything?”

”You're information was both concise and user-friendly. Well done.”

Dave tried to swallow, but he didn't have any spit in his mouth. If it was fine, why was the enforcer calling him?

As if he'd plucked the question straight from Dave's brain, the man continued in his whiskey-smooth tone, ”I like to make it a point to let my people know when I'm pleased with them.”

Dave's heart skipped a beat. His His people. people. Yes! Yes! He'd made it. Time for the cushy jobs, the prime benefits. He'd made it. Time for the cushy jobs, the prime benefits.

”Of course, I was a little disturbed when I'd heard of your earlier...mistake.” His pause was just long enough to let Dave become very aware of the sweat raining down his spine to soak the waistband of his slacks. ”But you retrieved the temporarily misplaced information in a timely manner and didn't cause undue hards.h.i.+p for my people. I hate it when they have to take time away from their day-to-day jobs to...deal with issues.”

Retrieved. Dave's vision blurred just a bit around the edges. Remade, retrieved. They were so close to the same thing. It didn't matter. Bea's friend was harmless. Just some bubbleheaded bimbo, hardly anyone to worry about. h.e.l.l, she'd likely tossed the tie by now.

”Hey, no problem,” Dave finally said. ”I mean, it was a simple mistake. Easy enough to rectify, ya know?”

”But it was rectified, which is what matters. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how damaging it would be to our operation should any of that information ever be used by any party other than us. An ident.i.ty is a precious thing, and, of course, an exclusive thing. Should anyone else have the same ident.i.ty, the same information, well...the picture isn't pretty, is it?”

Since the picture flas.h.i.+ng through Dave's mind was of his body, dead in any horrifying variety of ways, he had to agree the image was ugly.

What if the chip slipped into the wrong hands? What if Bea's bubblehead friend somehow found it, even though it was expertly hidden in Dave's favorite tie? What would she do? Dave swiped the sweat off his chin with a shaky hand. Maybe he should check things out, try to get it back.

”As you know, I appreciate thoroughness in my people. After all, finding new ones is such a trial.”

Since the triad had a reputation for never letting anyone leave employment alive after they'd ”found” them, the threat was clear. The line went dead. Bile rose in his throat. Needing to wipe away the sweat dripping down his forehead and soaking his s.h.i.+rt, Dave headed for the bathroom to wash up.

He had to get that chip back. Not that the lieutenant had any idea the chip the triad had was anything other than the original. But just to be on the safe side, Davey'd better hook up with Bea's friend, Audra. He'd get his tie back, secure his deal. After all, he'd finally achieved his dreams. No way some loose thread was gonna screw that up for him.

BY W WEDNESDAY, Audra was worn out and ready to scream. She'd just finished the final modifications to one of Simply Sensual's hottest designs for Bea. Now, the lilac lace screamed down-and-dirty s.e.x instead of sweet, demure seduction.

It wasn't leather, but it'd suit Bea to a tee. She just hoped Bea wasn't disappointed. Her friend seemed to be putting a lot of hope into this guy's promises. Promises that sounded too good to be true.

Not that she hadn't cared about her friend's welfare and happiness in the past. She just didn't know how to interfere without sounding like an uptight idiot. As a rule, the three Wicked Chicks tended to live by a sink-or-swim policy, never interfering with or advising the others.

She thought of the final adjustments needed for Bea's last outfits.

Discontent weighed at her shoulders.

She didn't want to work.

No, what she wanted was Jesse. It'd been a long time since Friday night. Much too long since that delicious o.r.g.a.s.m on the back couch. Even the barrage of erotic dreams she'd been enjoying all week weren't enough to satisfy her anymore.

She wanted Jesse.

She pulled a slip of paper out of the back pocket of her denim skirt. The creases were worn fuzzy, and looked about ready to rip apart from her unfolding and folding it. She stared down at the angular scrawl. Jesse Martinez-cell. Jesse Martinez-cell. Seven digits to delight. Seven digits to delight.

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