Wine, Tarts & Sex

Twenty

The knock on the door was loud.

And early.

Liv glanced at the bedside clock. Seven. Jeez-who was knocking on her door at this time of the morning?

“Don’t answer it,” Jake mumbled, his face buried in his pillow. “They’ll go away.”

But Liv was already reaching for her robe hanging on the bedpost. “I can see a car in the drive from the window. Maybe it’s someone I know.”

Reaching the window, she surveyed the expanse of gravel fronting her backyard. “Holy shit.” Two county police cars were parked there.

“What’s up?” Jake rolled out of bed, his brain’s warning system switching on at her sharp expletive.

“The county mounties are paying a call.” She tossed her robe aside, figuring clothes were required for this encounter.

“Here?” He dropped back onto the bed, his sleep-deprived senses overriding his brain’s warning system.

“No, Siberia.” She pulled a T-shirt from her dresser drawer.

O-kaaay… that was sarcasm. Coming to his feet in a surge of conciliatory good manners, he reached for his jeans. “Let me go talk to them. I’ll tell them you’re not home. They’ll go away, and we can get back to sleep. Oh, shit.” He felt the adrenaline rush as his brain cells engaged with reality. “This is about Janie and Matt. It’s not about you. Look, stay here. See that no one comes out. I’ll handle this. In my business I deal with security types all the time.”

Pulling his T-shirt over his head, he was halfway to the door when Liv caught up and grabbed his arm. “Wait. It’ll be better if I go out there. I know the county mounties. You don’t. Also, this isn’t the big city where your expertise with security types matters.”

“Who cares whether you know these guys or not if Leo sent them? By the way, just how well do you know these guys?” His voice had taken on an edge.

“Is this where I say, ‘It’s none of your business’?” Her voice was equally sharp.

“I’d like a better answer.”

“And I’m not giving you one.”

Another knock on the door brought them back to the issue at hand.

“Sorry,” Jake said. “I’m losing it.”

“I apologize, too.” She smiled. “And I lost it a long time ago.”

“Since we’re both semirational once again, may I politely point out that I could very easily deal with these deputies. I’ll say you’re on vacation. I’m house-sitting. I’ll tell them to come back in a week.” He figured he might be better with bullshit than she, seeing how he spent his whole life dishing it out to rich customers who all expected personalized service.

“My car’s out there.”

“So? You took a plane.”

“Look, I grew up with these guys. They’re good kids.” She picked up the shorts she’d tossed on the floor last night. “And if this is about Leo, I guarantee you, his reach doesn’t have the same power out here as in New York. This is the hinterland where no one’s ever heard of him,” she added, stepping into the shorts. “So be a dear and warn Janie.” She zipped the zipper. “Then come down and see how I’m doing. ”

He hesitated for the briefest second. “Okay,” he said, clipped and low. “We’ll do it your way.”

She lifted her brows. “That sounds as though you don’t normally utter that phrase.”

“You got that right,” he muttered, still not sure he couldn’t handle the situation better.

Another round of knocking echoed through the house.

Jake’s jaw twitched, then he reached out and opened the bedroom door. “Go.”

They met Roman in the hall.

“I told Janie to stay in her bedroom,” Roman said, his voice taut. “Matt’s still sleeping.”

“Liv thinks she might be able to talk these guys into going away,” Jake explained.

“Could be.” Roman nodded toward the stairs. “Better go before they wake up Matt. We’ll watch your back.”

“Please, don’t say that. I’ve never in my entire life needed anyone to watch my back. Okay?”

Roman and Jake exchanged glances.

“And don’t do that either,” Liv muttered. “You’re creeping me out. It’s only the diaper patrol outside. I’ve known these guys from day one of their deputy jobs. Neither is over twenty-three, and the only reason they have these cushy, do-nothing jobs is because their daddies have money and connections in the county. We have no crime around here unless you count the occasional fight that breaks out at closing time at a local bar. So trust me. I’ll handle this.”

Quickly running her fingers through her hair, she ran down the stairs.

When she walked barefoot out onto her back porch a few moments later-like all farmhouses, traffic flowed through the kitchen-she resembled a fresh-faced farmer’s daughter, all rosy-cheeked, pale tousled hair, leggy beauty, and a winning smile.

Watching from the kitchen window, Jake took note of the dropped jaws and open mouths as Liv came into view. The two deputies almost fell backward down the steps, practically doing a Keystone Kops pratfall before coming to rest on the sidewalk below. An older man in an Italian suit standing on the lawn, however, gave no visible reaction, unless the slight swing of his briefcase indicated a tightening of his grip on the handle.

The suit must be Leo’s man.

And that guy didn’t look as though he could be talked out of much of anything. His face was expressionless, his thinning hair cut short, his skin tanned to an acceptable, not-too-dark, PC shade. He was middle height, middle-aged, and toned. A white-shoe lawyer from the look of it rather than a goon, but obviously a man willing to do whatever it took to please his client if this crack-of-dawn visit was any indication.

“Morning, Wayne, Arlen,” Liv said, her smile in place as she descended the back steps. “What can I do for you?”

“Sorry about the early hour,” Wayne Stensberg said, his round face flushing red. Hitching up his belt, he shifted from foot to foot and looked as though he wished he were somewhere else.

Liv shrugged faintly. “It’s not a problem. I’m always up early.”

“The thing is,” Arlen Christensen muttered, touching his holstered firearm as though to remind himself that he was a lawman, “this lawyer from New York wants us to deliver a summons.”

Liv offered them a wide-eyed look. “A summons for me? Whatever for?”

“Nah, it ain’t for you, Liv. This guy says you have a lady visitor here.”

She shook her head. “He’s wrong. I’m here alone.” Her mouth lifted in the faintest of smiles. “Well, not precisely alone.” She nodded toward Jake’s BMW, Roman’s car fortunately somewhere else. She’d never seen it. “A boyfriend stayed over last night.”

Both deputies turned red, their imaginations running wild after Liv’s remark about her boyfriend sleeping over.

Arlen regained his composure first, although he had to clear his throat a couple times before any words came out. “I’d say we’re pretty much done here, then.” He nudged his partner with his elbow. “Let’s go.” Drawing himself up to his full five-foot-ten-inch height as though to add significance to his decision, he added politely, “Real sorry to bother you so early in the morning.”

“Whose shoes are those?”

Everyone turned at the sharp question.

The thin-lipped lawyer was pointing his right index finger at a spot on the lawn.

Liv’s heart sank. There were Matt’s red sandals, a vivid splash of color against the green grass. He must have left them there when he’d swung on the basswood tree’s rope swing.

“Those must be my neighbor’s boy’s,” she said, nervously watching the well-dressed man walk over to the sandals and pick them up. “Gracie brought Ryan over the other day,” she went on, smiling at the deputies who knew Gracie as well as she did.

“Prada.”

The cool voice was in contrast to the triumph in the man’s eyes as he held up the sandals and nailed Liv with a victorious look.

“We have Prada in Minnesota.” She forced her voice to a calmness she didn’t in the least feel.

“The boy’s here. I know it,” Leo’s lawyer rapped out. He nodded at the deputies. “Serve the papers.”

“Are the papers for me?” Liv was relatively sure they couldn’t serve Leo’s papers to just anyone.

Wayne lifted the sheaf of papers he held and, gazing at them, read, “Janie Tabor Rolf. Some custody papers, I think,” he added. Giving the lawyer, who had treated them like hired help from the moment he’d walked into their small office, a resentful look, Wayne jabbed his finger toward Liv. “This here ain’t Janie Tabor,” he said, his voice loud enough to carry across the lawn. “New York,” he muttered under his breath. “Cranky fuck. Beg pardon, Liv,” he murmured, his gaze apologetic. “But we had to at least drive him over here. The idiot was screamin’ something fierce.”

“I understand. It’s not your fault. And if there was anyone here besides me and my-ah-friend,” she murmured, “I’d be the first to cooperate.”

“We know that,” Arlen replied, clearly sympathetic. “The guy’s a nutcase,” he added, careful to keep his voice down. “Threatening and carrying on like he owns the world. Hey, Mr. New York-you want a ride back?” he shouted, indicating his car with a jerk of his thumb. “Or you can walk back to town if you want. Wayne and me are leavin’.”

Red-faced with fury, the man, who looked vastly out of place in the country in his Italian suit, stomped back to one of the cars, got in, and slammed the door.

“Wanna flip who drives that one?” Wayne grumbled. The man had gotten into his car.

“I’ll drive the prick if you buy at Smitty’s tonight,” Arlen offered.

“You got yourself a deal! I’ll buy coffee at Mae’s, too, as soon as we dump this piece of shit.”

“Sweet.”

The two young deputies high-fived each other and, with a wave for Liv, strolled back to their cars.

Liv remained on the sidewalk until the two police cars disappeared from sight down her driveway. Then, realizing she’d been holding her breath, she exhaled softly and turned back to her house.

“You were impressive, babe,” Jake drawled as she walked into the kitchen a few moments later. “That big-city lawyer’s spitting nails about now.”

“Wayne and Arlen are nice guys. I was pretty confident they’d listen to reason.”

“They were serving custody papers, weren’t they?”

Liv turned at the sound of Janie’s voice and saw her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Roman at her side like her Pretorian guard. “I think so. Wayne mentioned custody papers.”

“This might be a good time to move on,” Roman observed. Leo wasn’t a patient man. He’d put someone else on the hunt who’d found the same phone records as he.

“Or perhaps time to give Leo a call,” Janie countered determinedly. “I don’t feel like running every time one of his goons shows up. I really like it here. It’s peaceful.” She smiled at Liv. “Who would think I’d like peaceful? But I do.”

“Leo might not operate so legally next time,” Roman warned. “He sent me out here to snatch Matt and bring him back.”

“I know.” Janie patted his arm. “I knew why you’d come. I also had a pretty good idea you couldn’t do what Leo wanted.” Roman had always been nicer to her than he would have had to be as Leo’s hired gun, taking time when they met to engage her in conversation.

“My personal feelings aside, I’d still recommend finding a better refuge. Leo won’t give up. He’s putting plan B in action as we speak. That’s my professional opinion, and I know him better than you.” Dipping his head, Roman held Janie’s gaze. “I know a lotta things you don’t want to know about him.”

“But then you don’t know that I have something of Leo’s he’s going to want back very badly.” She hadn’t told anyone about it. Not Brad or Liv, not Roman who, until last night, had been only a possible in terms of reliability.

A new degree of admiration gleamed in Roman’s eyes. “Is that a fact?” he murmured.

Janie grinned. “Yes, indeedy. I have some excellent leverage. I hadn’t planned on using it unless it was absolutely necessary. But if Leo wants to play hardball starting at square one, I’m more than willing.” She took Roman’s hand. “Come, I’ll show you.” She turned to smile at Liv and Jake. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“That was all very mysterious and cheerful,” Jake murmured, watching the couple walk away.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know,” Liv said firmly. “With Leo Rolf, ignorance is bliss, believe me. There is nothing about that man that withstands close scrutiny.”

Jake knew some foul things about Leo but kept them to himself. Time enough to reveal the sordid details should Janie need help in divorce court. “How about close scrutiny and me?” Jake playfully inquired.

“Now, that’s entirely different,” she said, gazing up at him from under her lashes, her smile pure seduction.

“Not that I shouldn’t go home.”

“I know. And I should be out in my vineyard, working.”

“So what’re we gonna do?”

“How tired are you?”

“I’m never that tired.”

“I was hoping you weren’t.”

“I knew you were hoping that.”

“Don’t think you know everything about me.”

“I’ve got a feeling I’m gettin’ close to knowing everything about you.”

“Sex-wise you mean.”

"No, I meant your favorite CDs.”

“Just for that, I may not want to have sex with you.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“You think I can’t go without sex?”

“Yeah.”

She saw the certainty in his eyes, heard it in his voice, realized he might understand her better than she understood herself. “It’s all your fault.” A flat, almost resentful note in her voice.

“I know how you feel,” he grumbled, a scowl drawing his dark brows together. “I’ve been trying to leave before I even got here.”

She suddenly grinned. “It’s not as though it’s the worst problem in the world, I suppose, what with the Middle East currently going up in flames.”

A smile slowly formed on his mouth. “I guess. Put it in perspective-right? But I’m tellin’ you, this is sorta getting out of hand.”

She slid her fingers through his. “Could we talk about this later?”

“After you come?”

“And after you come.”

His grip tightened, and he jerked her against his body, his free hand skimming down her back, cupping her bottom, holding her hard against his cock. “What if I feel like doing it right here?”

“You can’t.”

“I can do anything I want.” Putting action to words, he pulled her toward the pantry, opened the door, shoved her in, and shut the door behind them.

“Really, Jake… wouldn’t it be more comfortable-” He’d pushed her up against the door and was unzipping her shorts. “What if someone came in?”

“Like who?”

“Like anyone or may-”

He kissed her hard, stopping her objections, which weren’t very convincing anyway, since she’d begun moving her hips in a show-me-what-you’ve-got way. Although even if her protests had been convincing, he might not have noticed, since he was busy shoving her shorts down her legs.

“Jake-stop!” This time there was no question she meant it.

“Uh-uh.” That male-brain single-focus thing was operating at the max. He lifted her up, kicked away her shorts, and ran his middle finger down her cleft in a practiced checking-on-progress stroke.

It took her a moment to drag her senses back to reality after his titillating scouting maneuver. But once back on track, she said, heatedly, “Stop! You don’t have a condom!”

“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t come in you.”

He was stroking her clitoris, every one of her sexual receptors was panting in response, sending competing messages to her brain apropos the importance of condoms. And when she should be responsible and engaged, her brain seemed to be turning to mush.

He was unzipped a second later and forcing her thighs apart with his muscular thighs, pushing his swollen cock up into her with his own very specific style of engagement. Propelling her up on her toes, he grunted in satisfaction as he thrust in up to the hilt and lifted her completely off her feet. As she started to fall, he quickly slid his hands under her bottom, picked her up, wrapped her legs around his waist and, without missing a beat, swung his hips out and drove back in again hard, hard, hard.

Leaning into her, he pressed her back against the door while she clung to him and met each pounding, fevered thrust.

“What are you doing getting fucked in your pantry?” he said, thickly. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“Screw you,” she muttered, rankled at his knowing tone, chafing as well that she wanted him with an almost unfathomable intensity.

They could have been animals mating, she thought, her panting, him growling, each uttering guttural, throaty moans deep in their throats. Mere days ago, she couldn’t have contemplated such outrageously wanton feelings, no more than she could have considered overlooking the lack of a condom. And here she was, throwing caution to the winds just to feel the raw, feverish pleasure he so casually offered.

How did he inspire this overwrought nymphomania? Was it him or her or some odd, compelling combination of the two?

His arms abruptly tightened.

As if she was alert to his every mood, she looked up.

He smiled faintly, neither resentful nor ruffled-other than sexually. He was exclusively focused on getting off. “No rush,” he politely said. “Just wondering.” He’d actually considered coming in her, a notion so shocking it had sent his adrenaline into the stratosphere, instantly clearing his mind. On the other hand, he couldn’t last forever.

“Are you waiting for me?” Her gaze was heated, her voice breathy with need, issues of unfathomable need obliterated by more gratifying sensations.

“Take your time.”

He didn’t mean it. “You come. I can wait,” she said, inexplicably willing to subordinate her pleasure to his like some harem slave or vassal handmaiden from ages past.

“Uh-uh… we’ll both come; I’ll fill you full of my sperm,” he said, his voice a low, sexy rasp. “That way I’ll leave my mark on you, and other men will know you’re taken-that you’re my property. No one else will be able to screw you-just me. Only I can cram my cock in you and make you scream for more. Would you like that?”

The pulsing ache inside her had reached fever pitch at his words, the entire focus of her senses on his cock sliding in and out of her flame-hot vagina.

“Answer me,” he growled, “or I’ll take it out.”

“Yes, yes-please don’t!”

“Good girl. Here, babe-you can have it back.”

She gasped, the jolt of his cock hitting bottom spiking through her brain, the aftermath rippling outward in concentric waves of heated bliss.

“Maybe I should keep you tied to my bed,” he murmured, “so you’ll always be there to fuck me. Then when I come home, you’ll be waiting for me, with your cunt wet with longing. I’ll ram my big stiff prick into your tight little pussy and fill you with come over and over again. How would you like that? Would you like me to fill you to overflowing? ”

She wasn’t able to answer. She was climaxing.

Like he wanted.

And just in the nick of time, he determined, jerking out and coming all over her stomach.

After he’d found some paper towels and wiped off and wiped her off, he helped her on with her shorts. Patting the zipper in place, he dropped a kiss on her nose. “Thanks, babe. I needed that.”

“As if I didn’t. By the way, you’re good,” she said with a sunny smile. “You should do phone sex.”

He grinned. “Just for you, I’m on call twenty-four/ seven.”