Fat Tuesday(118)

He parted the swollen lips. The center of her sex was longing to hold her, and the next he was. very wet. He sent his fingers deep, then withdrew them and used the He clutched her tightly. She felt incredibly small and soft against the ball of his middle finger to lightly massage that most sensitive spot.

him. He buried his face in her neck beneath her hair. His hand cupped j Her soft gasping of his name he took as permission. Within sec her head and pressed her face against his throat. onds, his jeans were open, and he was positioned above her. When ... .

he entered her, he almost sobbed from the pleasure of it. He didn't want it to be rushed, but the sensations were so intense, so long anticipated and frequently fantasized, that they overtook him, and he could no longer hold back.

The climax passed too quickly. He raised his head, an apology on his lips. But her features were soft and slack. Beads of sweat dotted her upper lip, her eyes were closed. Beneath him, her chest rose and fell.

Her nipples were tight. He feathered them with his thumb. He felt her belly quicken against his an instant before she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

He rocked forward slightly and stayed inside her to share each rippling, pulsing pressure. When it subsided, he rolled to his side and drew her close to him, pressing her head to his chest and stroking her back. They lay like that for a long time, and he could have stayed that way forever. But he felt compelled to say something.

"I know how religious you are. You probably regard adultery as a mortal sin. So, you can say I forced you if you want to. Just ...

just don't feel bad about it, okay, Remy? I don't want you to feel bad about this.

About me."

She worked her head free so that she could look into his face. She laid her palm against his cheek and searched his eyes."You don't have to worry about that. I'm not really married."

From the window of his office, Pinkie watched the revelers on the street below. The Orpheus parade was over, but the crowds were still out in full force, sinning with a vengeance before the start of Lent, almost twenty-four hours away.

Hearing the door open and close behind him, he turned. Bardo slunk in, looking uncharacteristically subdued."My men won't go near the place.

Said it's still crawling with heat in all its forms. Cops, sheriff's deputies, state police, coroner. You name it."

"It's been confirmed that Mccuen is dead?"

"As a doornail. Story is, Pat whacked him to protect Basile."

"What about Basile?" Pinkie asked.

"You aren't gonna believe it. Pat had him in custody, but he got away."

Duvall swore viciously.

"Basile overpowered the old codger who runs the bait shop."

"Overpowered my ass," Duvall roared."Did Pat buy that?"

"I don't know."

"Didn't that Gregory character tell us that Basile and Dredd what's-his-name are thick as thieves? The way you describe the heat around the place, even Saint Basile couldn't have escaped that compound unassisted. And what the hell happened to Gregory and the men I sent with him? Any news?"

Bardo shook his head."Nothing."

"I don't think they ever made it to Dredd's Mercantile. Obviously they double-crossed us."

"They're two of my most dependable guys," Bardo argued."I tell them what to do, and they do it, no questions asked."

"Gregory James's family has a lot of money. He bribed them to let him o. By now they're probably in Vegas banging whores two at a time."

"They couldn't be bribed," Bardo said stubbornly.

"Then explain to me where they are."

Bardo shrugged, and Pinkie cursed.

He didn't remember ever feeling this confounded or incompetent.

He'd had two excellent chances to trap Basile, and both had failed.

Mccuen had apparently planned to bypass Del Ray Jones and act independently.

Duvall didn't have a problem with that. In fact he admired Mccuen's initiative. Except that it had backfired and Mccuen had got himself killed. Thank you, Doug Pat, Pinkie thought. He must be dealt with later.

In the meantime, Gregory James had vanished and taken two expert hit men with him. How the hell had that sniveling queer coward managed that?

Wherever Basile was, he was probably laughing his ass off at these bungled attempts on his life. Just thinking of that caused Pinkie's blood pressure to skyrocket.

Bardo interrupted his thoughts."Don't get steamed at me for say Pinkie turned, but Bardo went on, undaunted by the lawyer's glare.

"Basile could have popped Mrs. Duvall and dumped her body in the swamp same day he took her. She could be dead already. Or ..."

"Well? Or what?"

"Or, hell, Pinkie, think about it. If she's been shacking up with Basile for almost a week, maybe she's ... you know ... She could be making it so interesting for him, he doesn't care about revenge anymore.

Either that or he's getting his revenge in another way."

Pinkie's eyes went dangerously cold and blank."So your theory is that either my wife is dead, or she's f*cking her brains out with Basile?"

Bardo spread his arms eloquently."You know broads. They're kinda like dogs. Long as you feed them, and pet them once in a while, they love you. Why do you think they're called bitches?"