Southern Spirits Read online

  Her hand moved over the front of her panties, lingered, brushed teasingly across her pussy through the gossamer satin, making her shiver. Her hand still there, she stepped back, until she was at the foot of the bed, and sat down, her legs spread. Now she looked down to see her fingers gently peel the lace trim aside, slip beneath the satin, touching her bush, feeling the heat radiating from her sex, and the hairs closer to her folds. Her middle finger eased up and down, tentatively at first, and then more boldly. She was wet; what would happen tonight had excited her more than she had expected.

  Her finger moved upwards, pressed at the base of her clit, and the familiar tingle blushed outwards for a moment.

  ‘Yum.’

  The sound broke the spell, and she looked up to see Cliff, fresh from his shower, his hair combed back with his fingers. He had a thick red towel wrapped about his waist, and a bulge had begun to rise at the front.

  Cat ignored him, watching her reflection as she touched herself some more, her other hand now stroking the tops of her breasts with her fingertips, until goosebumps rose and her nipples puckered beneath the satin. She leant her head back, letting her hair tumble off her shoulders.

  Now Cliff stepped forwards, blocking her view. ‘So, what do you want? A little –’

  ‘A little quiet.’ She reached out and undid his towel, casting it aside to watch his cock pulse back to insistent hardness. Then she grasped it, gently stroking it, loving the feel of it, its firmness and heat. ‘Just do as you’re told.’ She looked up at him, her gaze equally firm and hot. ‘This is for me. I don’t care if you get off or not. Understood?’

  He grinned, reaching out to stroke her hair. ‘Sure, babe. Whatever you say.’

  Cat released his cock, then reluctantly removed her other hand from her panties before slinking backwards along the bed. When her head was on her pillow, she raised one knee up, the foot flat on the mattress. ‘Whatever I say? Well, I say start at my feet, and work your way upwards.’

  Without further ado, he followed her, descending to kiss her toes, her feet, her ankles, his fingertips blazing a trail ahead. As his lips reached her inner thighs, his finger touched her sex through her panties, then slipped beneath a leg band to touch her pussy, lightly stroking her, making slow, tight circles around her clit, while his thumb brushed hypnotically up and down her groove. He was kneeling up now, straddling her raised leg, his shaft twitching against her inner thigh as if seeking attention.

  Tingles and sparks ran through her, and their eyes met. She slipped her hands behind her head wantonly as Cliff masturbated her, his hand shifting so that his thumb now massaged her clit, and his middle finger gathered the juices she was producing, moistening her puffy, sensitive outer lips, delving further into her as he continued.

  Cat squirmed, kept her hands above her – Dios, this was lovely! – willing the satin panties to fade away, longing to feel more naked. Not that Cliff would have the sense to . . .

  Suddenly he was removing his hand to do just that. Smart boy, for once. She took the opportunity to remove her bra as well, enjoying the air on her skin. She watched him watching her as he returned to his work, watched his fingers and thumb, glistening, listened to the soft wet sounds which increased as she ground her hips upwards off the mattress, adopting a rhythm that complemented Cliff’s. She let herself wallow in the sweet sensations, building on them as they radiated outwards from her.

  She came, suddenly, almost without warning, making her pull back from his now-overwhelming touch, the blood rushing to her head. Her hands snaked down to her parted inner thighs, her fingers framing her sex as if to try to contain the heat. Then her forefingers parted from the rest enough to reach down and gently draw back her folds, the cool air barely soothing the inner flesh. Her voice was husky as she urged, ‘I need your mouth, here.’

  Cliff looked impatient, impatient for some relief of his own. Still he obediently dropped his head between her legs, gently nuzzled, then lapped and moistened her some more, tasting her juices and delving deeper into her with that gorgeous thin tongue of his, before rising to her clit, the tip of his nose nestling in her bush, drinking in her scent. His eager attitude was welcome, sending little jolts of pleasure which fed on the lingering embers of her recent climax, fanning them back to life. She grew warmer and wetter as he alternated between his tongue thrusting and circling her clit and his lips sucking on her folds.

  As he returned to her clit, and she felt the pressures building once more, Cat squeezed her thighs against his head until she made him groan into her sex. He was pushing down hard now, and she met his resistance as she pushed her hips upwards, and received another, stronger orgasm, waves washing over her.

  She felt Cliff rising from her pussy, drawing up closer to her head, his intentions clear, but she didn’t protest, wanting this as well. She raised her legs again, helping him into her. Slick and hot as she felt, she enjoyed being filled and, as he almost lay upon her, their eyes met again as he thrust into her, hard and fast, as if seeking to punish her for keeping him waiting for this for so long. His words confirmed this. ‘Yeah, about time –’

  ‘Shut up.’

  He listened, and she relaxed, strings of climaxes erupting within her, not overwhelming like before, but still very satisfying. She almost told him to slow down, make it last, but thought better of it. As his control eroded, she wrapped her thighs tightly around him, using her remaining strength within to squeeze him, until his face contorted and his limbs galvanised, his pace quickening, and then he erupted in her with a strangled gasp. He collapsed onto her, his chest sweaty, heaving, breath huffing from his mouth next to her ear.

  She gave him a moment like this, also strengthening herself, her resolve strong with the warm satisfaction of her climaxes. Then she slapped him on the shoulder. He withdrew, rolling onto his back beside her, even as she was rising, reaching for her panties and blouse.

  Cliff stared up at the ceiling, smiling beatifically. ‘God, I needed that. You were good. Now, how about that Chinese?’

  She was up on her feet, slipping back into her blouse. ‘No time. You have to get dressed and leave.’

  He grinned and jumped up, cocking a salute. ‘Your wish is my command. Where am I going?’

  She slowed down a little as she climbed back into her slacks. ‘That’s your business.’

  ‘Huh? What’s the problem?’

  ‘No problem. You’re going, and you’re not coming back.’

  Without looking at him, she left the bedroom, then stopped at her desk and turned when she heard him follow, his cock quickly wilting. ‘Cat, what’s going on? Did I . . . did I do something wrong?’

  Leaning against her desk, her hand reached out blindly and touched her briefcase, resting there. ‘Why didn’t you tell me I’d moved into your apartment?’

  Cliff’s mouth opened. Then he swallowed hard and she could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes, spinning lies. ‘What? I don’t . . . I don’t know what you mean . . .’

  ‘Oh, sure you do, honey. Apparently, I moved in six weeks ago. At least, that’s what you put on that credit card application. The one “we” applied for.’

  His face paled even further. ‘How did . . . How did you find out?’

  ‘An overly friendly customer service rep tracked down my work number this week to offer me an upgrade to Gold. It was the first time one of those annoying calls became useful.’ She lifted the paperwork from her briefcase now, though she’d perused them thoroughly that afternoon. ‘You stole payslips from my files here for the verification. You forged my signature on the application. With my added income you were able to get quite a substantial credit limit.’ She glanced up again. ‘Put your clothes back on, you look ridiculous.’

  Cliff’s breathing quickened, and he hurriedly dressed, still trying to make eye contact and project some air of sincerity, or regret, or something else he didn’t really feel. ‘Cat, I’m so sorry about this. I’ve been behind in my bills, I couldn’t ask you for money –’


  ‘So you committed credit card fraud instead. Yes, that was a much better choice, congratulations, idiota. I explained the situation to them, and they’ve closed the account and started recovery proceedings.’

  His face was ashen now, looking thoroughly stunned – at least, at having been caught out. ‘Cat, I swear to you, this was just the one time, and I’d have paid it all back. You have to believe me.’

  ‘I don’t have to do a damn thing, Cliff. And it was no more a one-off than all the other times you’ve done this, with other women, in Virginia, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, using other aliases.’ At his disbelieving expression, she dropped the paperwork on her desk and continued, ‘You may see me as just your “little accountant”, Cliff, but I’m more than that. I’m a criminal investigator. I deal with dishonest people like you all the time and I know all the tricks of the trade. I think it’s that insult to my intelligence that hurts most.’ She reached behind her again, produced his key ring and tossed it to him. ‘I’ve taken my key back. So, off you go, don’t call and don’t return.’

  He swallowed again, his arms falling to his side. ‘Look, Cat, I know you have every right to be angry with me –’

  ‘That’s just it, Cliff. I’m not.’ In recent weeks, she had become more and more conscious of his many negative traits: his complacency, his laziness, his condescension. However, the sex had been great and she had been prepared to forget the rest because of it. Now, however . . . ‘I’d have to possess some remaining emotion to be angry. You’re not worth that.’

  He managed a self-pitying look, and then asked warily, ‘Then why did you . . . Why did we fuck? Why didn’t you just throw me out?’

  ‘Because whatever else you are, you’re a good fuck. Nevertheless, even the best fuck isn’t going to help someone if he disrespects me as much as you have. So I thought I’d get some last moments of fun out this sorry relationship.’

  She watched the disbelief, the disbelief that the user was used as well, boil – boil into resentment, and then anger. He drew closer. ‘Goddammit, you can’t just –’

  She held her position, her face taut, and her voice dropped low. ‘You take one more step, I’ll knock you on your sorry ass. You know I can do it.’ He stopped, but she continued, ‘Then I’ll have you charged with attempted assault on a Federal officer. I’ll use all my influence to make sure you end up in a cell playing the puta for some three-hundred-pound tattooed bank robber.’ She nodded towards the front door. ‘Try to leave with some dignity, Cliff.’

  Then she saw it: the acceptance that he couldn’t salvage anything more, and it was best he moved onto his next victim. He departed; to his feeble credit, at least he didn’t slam the door.

  She stood there, staring at nothing in particular, almost sorry that she didn’t mention she’d already alerted some local bounty hunter friends of hers to collect Cliff for his outstanding warrants.

  Almost. Adios, Cliff.

  She wouldn’t miss him, just miss having her libido fed so much. She had a strong drive, but her luck with men was bad, and her work and attitude made it more difficult. But she’d rather stock up on some batteries for her vibrators than put up with the likes of him.

  She heated up her takeaway and settled down on her couch, just in time for the midnight movie.

  2

  Cliff had gone, and in the following days, she had been able to put him out of her mind and focus on her work. In fact, such was her focus that she almost didn’t respond to Hausmann’s summons.

  She entered to find Hausmann, and Special Agent Nathan Ames, sitting there grinning. Ames was older than Cat, not tall but broadly built, like some ex-football player who still kept in shape, with dark, flattering features and just a hint of grey at the temples.

  Wary, Cat said nothing as Hausmann motioned for her to take the seat beside Nathan. When she did, their supervisor took his own. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear that the department’s approved the Wheeler investigation, and with you serving undercover.’

  She nodded, still wary. ‘Thank you, sir.’ She left it at that, waiting for the ‘however’.

  ‘However, we feel that this will require an additional agent and, with that in mind, I’ve asked Nathan to work with you, now that he’s returned from leave.’

  She tried not to show her displeasure. She failed. ‘Sir, with respect, I don’t need any help with this case.’

  ‘And with equal respect, Cat, I disagree. Nathan has considerable field experience, and the threat assessment suggested on-site back-up would be prudent.’ He paused and added, ‘This will still be your case. You’ve raised it, and you’ll remain the primary.’

  She felt like she was tumbling into a ravine, but grabbed hold of this assurance like a lifeline. ‘So, I will remain in operational command?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Nathan interrupted with some amusement. ‘You will be in total command of the entire two-agent team.’

  She ignored him. ‘Sir, this won’t –’

  ‘Prepare the appropriate forms, Agent Montoya,’ Hausmann concluded, in a tone that would brook no further discussion. ‘You’ll need to make amendments for your new partner.’

  Her face went taut. ‘Yes, sir.’ She rose and departed, closing the door just a little too forcefully before returning to her own office and pacing around like a caged animal, her insides feeling like coiled springs. Cabrón! That bastard as much as said she couldn’t handle the case alone! Even worse, he’d assigned Nathan Ames, of all people . . .

  An unwelcome face almost immediately followed the knock on the door. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Veta al infierno!

  ‘Been to hell, thanks: crap weather but interesting company.’ Nathan stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind him. ‘You’ll be glad to know Hausmann’s door is still on its hinges.’

  ‘Hausmann es una grande puta.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure his mother still loves him.’ His expression sobered. ‘Cat, I want you to know I didn’t ask for this assignment.’

  ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘Yes, really. What, you think I don’t have cases of my own?’

  ‘No, I think you heard that this was taking place on a swingers’ train, and you were jumping at the chance to get me alone in an environment like that.’

  He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Sorry to burst your bubble, Kitten, but I didn’t exactly retire my piece after the Christmas Incident.’

  Cat was ready with an acid reply, but then thought better of it. Whatever had happened between them before, he was no liar. And in the cooler light of reason, it made sense to have back-up, especially if they were crossing state lines. She felt the tension in her muscles ease, a little. ‘Sorry.’ She walked around to her chair, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

  ‘Listen, Wildcat.’

  ‘Don’t call me that.’

  Nathan smiled. ‘Well, we are supposed to be playing the part of a couple. Couples have pet names for each other, to demonstrate familiarity. I can call you Wildcat, you can call me –’

  ‘Pajiero?’

  ‘My Spanish is rusty. That means “handsome”, right?’

  ‘No, but a hand is usually involved.’ She offered him a cocktail-shaking gesture with her fist, in case he still didn’t get it.

  He grinned. ‘See? That’s familiarity. How else would you know that was one of my favourite hobbies?’

  ‘Because you’re a man?’ She set the folder down again. ‘I’ll bring the copies over this afternoon –’

  ‘Tonight.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Tonight. We’ll discuss things over dinner.’ He smiled. ‘I make a wicked seafood platter.’

  She leant forwards, resting her chin on her hand as if regarding him for the first time. ‘Oh? Dinner at your place? Maybe with some soft lighting, music? And then we can pick up where we left off on that desktop –’

  ‘You know, for someone who wanted that matter buried, you keep reaching for the shovel.’ He reached into hi
s shirt pocket and produced a business card, then set it on the edge of her desk. ‘My address and number. I’ll have dinner ready for eight. And just so you don’t feel the need to strap on a chastity belt, I’ll make a gentleman’s promise not to put any moves on you while on assignment.’

  She raised an eyebrow as she accepted his card. ‘A “gentleman’s promise”? How gallant. The trouble is, men make piecrust promises: they seem sound, but crumble easily.’

  ‘You’re very young to be cynical.’

  ‘Must be the company I’ve been keeping.’

  ‘Maybe you need new company.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Despite herself, there was something about his old-fashioned, persistent charm that was appealing. ‘Eight, then.’

  Her headache worsened after his departure, and she rummaged through her desk drawer for her bottle of aspirin. She downed two without water and grimaced at the taste.

  She was returning the bottle when she found the tightly rolled band of shocking-pink paper, torn, bound with elastic . . .

  Last Christmas.

  It was a tightly bound band of tissue in shocking pink, bound with elastic. However, Cat didn’t have to unfurl it to identify it, so she set it down on the linen-clad table beside the plastic magnifying glass and tiny jumping frog, the other prizes she found in the gaudily wrapped cardboard tube. Christmas crackers were some British custom, and Hausmann’s wife had brought back a load from a trip to London a week ago. Around Cat, her colleagues pulled theirs, wore the paper hats and read the terrible jokes, all of them enjoying the novelty.

  She wished they’d taken to her with the same enthusiasm. She’d been in the department for four months now, and while people were friendly enough, it seemed like a polite friendliness, an acknowledgement that she was there and no more. No one had even asked her out, leaving that paranoid corner of her mind to tell her that they had dismissed her as not even worth talking to, except on business.