Microsoft Word - FortunesFool.rtf (39 page)

Or worse.

The sounds of the visitor's loping gait grew closer, moving in from

the foyer to the main room. Seconds from the sound of the curtain

swooshing aside, Miranda shoved Archer back against the wood paneling

of the wall. She threw her arms around his neck and looked up into his

shocked face.

"What are you—"

Miranda put a finger to his supple mouth. She didn't bother to deny

to herself that she enjoyed the sensation. With a grin, she grabbed two

fistfuls of his white t-shirt and hauled it over his head. She kicked off her shoes and threw a leg up around his waist, her skirt riding up her thighs.

"Quiet," she mimicked. Her mouth closed over his just as the curtain brushed aside.

A short, rotund man in his mid-thirties stood in the doorway. The

dusk of night behind him outlined his face, the bare, hanging bulb of the backroom illuminating, yet harshly shadowing his features.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Miranda broke from Archer's embrace with heaving breath. She

hoped her lipstick had smudged from the kiss and that her eyes slanted

with passion. She hoped the man saw all of these things, earmarks of one hot night of clandestine ardor.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" the man asked.

"I—" Miranda blushed. "Christening my new work place?" She laughed, gesturing with Archer's t-shirt. "My boyfriend, Bobby, just got back into town and I guess we got a little excited.

Archer faked a bumbling hick persona. "We're real sorry. It's just

that I'm on leave from the Army and me and my girl here wanted to

make the most of our time together, if you know what I mean." He

squeezed her against his side and Miranda nearly laughed at his goofy

grin. The steel vise of a warning grip on her arm made her think twice.

Edith's son chuckled and folded his arms. "Didn't Ma just hire you?

I doubt this was one of the job requirements."

253

D'ARC, GALE, KENT, MARCH

"Yes, she did…" Her tone changed from guilty admission to

pleading. "Please don't tell her. We're just having a little fun. I promise we'll get out of here." She gave him a wink and a naughty smile, sliding an arm up around Archer's neck again. "You know how it is."

The man gave her a slow, leering smile. The exchange felt a bit

creepy, but mostly harmless. "Sure, lady. I know all about it." He nodded to Archer, who grinned again in mock embarrassment. "Just lock up

when you two kids leave."

Cold air blasted into the shop as the doorbell jangled behind the

man's exit. Miranda sighed in relief.

"You think that was pretty clever, do you?" Miranda felt his heart pound against the thin cotton of her peasant blouse. As if he had held

himself in check during those crucial moments. "You could have just gotten us shot, you know that?"

She smiled and ran a finger down his naked chest, delighting in the

feel of his sinuous muscles beneath her caress. "Relax, I just saved your investigation. Now you have a reason to be here."

Archer scoffed, his eyes narrowed slits of cool anger. "You think

this is all some game, inspiration for that book you're supposedly

writing."

Miranda knew it would irk him that she didn't appear sufficiently

chastised. She loved it. "I thought you had to play games sometimes to catch a criminal. Didn't they teach you that in training,
Special Agent
Archer
?"

He cinched his arms tightly around her waist. "Maybe you're the one who needs a lesson."

Ever the writer, Miranda had a good idea of what she was about to

get into. They stared at each other, eye to defiant eye as she reviewed the past scripts of her sexual encounters.

Kiss mouth.

Fondle breast.

Fondle cock.

Oral (hopefully).

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Done.

So far, this encounter had exceeded expectations. After all, she'd

already been arrested
and
outwitted a criminal. Her fantasy life was always richer than her reality ever could be, which is why she took such pleasure in pleasing herself. Now that the handcuffs were on, all bets

254

FORTUNE'S FOOL

were off in terms of reality and the usual.

Besides the interesting details, there was something strange between

them, something ethereal and predestined. This same sizzling

connection made her feel as if she had little choice about the course of events. That each small movement was supposed to happen. Had to

happen.

"This is some fantasy to you, isn't it? Something zany to put into a silly book?"

She blushed, genuinely this time, for it seemed he could read her

thoughts. Sure, he had belittled her work, which she did not take lightly, but the idea that he could know her mind made her shiver. She wanted

nothing more than to escape him now.

Good luck, what with your hands cuffed behind his neck.

He took the momentary fracture in her defenses as an opportunity to

break her. Archer swung her around by the waist, pinning her against the wall. His unsmiling mouth came down hard upon hers, as if he was about

to undergo the most serious of tasks.

The kiss was like a sigh of relief, a dam breaking after relentless

pressure. It had been a while and Miranda was hungry. Archer's mouth

was firm and insistent as it closed over her upper lip. A warm gush of

liquid heat wet her panties when his tongue slipped into her mouth to

touch hers. He slid his tip over the side of hers and she relished the slow, sensuous stroke.

That pacing couldn't last for long, and the tempo quickly built to a

frenzy as they battled for dominance over the heated kiss. With lips

swollen and wet, they explored each other's mouths like uncharted

territories. Miranda lost herself in the kiss until she heard a metallic click from behind Archer's head.

He had freed her hands. And she could only guess why.

His mouth left hers and she felt suddenly bereft without the

connection, left with only the loud, throaty sound of her own gasping

breath. He trailed kisses across her cheek and throat, following a slow, delightful path to her hairline. Archer then bit down on her earlobe,

holding it firmly between his teeth as he tongued it back and forth.

Unable to escape without pain, she silently endured the sweet torture.

"Fantasies are all right," he whispered into her ear, "in a lonely bedroom…in the darkness…but what if we made them real?"

The suggestion effectively knocked every coherent thought out of

her head. He smelled like pure sex, a fragrance she had noted the

255

D'ARC, GALE, KENT, MARCH

moment she'd pulled his shirt over his head. The scent mocked her now,

practically begging her to lick every exposed inch of his torso. The

handcuffs still hanging from her wrist, Miranda slid her hand down

between them and grasped his cock through thick denim. She outlined its

tantalizing swell with her palm.

Archer groaned and Miranda wrapped her free hand around him,

grabbing his tight ass to pull him against her. She spread her legs,

rubbing herself all over his hardened length. His eyes widened in

surprise, then narrowed, as if he had given himself over to the idea that she had pretty much lost her mind. Miranda agreed, but she could do

nothing to help herself except ride the wave of lust to shore.

He kissed her passionately again, and her kiss was as bold as his,

meeting him stroke for stroke, challenging him to outdo her.

"You think you can shock me, Archer?" Miranda asked, her tone

designed to emasculate. "Go ahead and try."

He slid a hand up the inside of her thigh, causing a ripple of

goosebumps in the cool air. He hooked a finger around the string of her

thong and ripped off her underwear.

Here's something new,
she thought.

His knuckle drifted down over her cleft and parted her sex. She

moaned once. He swirled a finger between the lips of her pussy, gliding

over the slick flesh, but never breaking their gaze until he brought his finger to his mouth to taste her moisture. Miranda was momentarily

taken aback, and Archer looked smug, as if he'd bested her. No way

would she let him think he'd won.

She smiled as he brought his hand forward and she captured his

finger between her lips. Miranda had never tasted herself before and the idea of it drove her wild. With the saline taste of herself still on her lips, she went on to do him one better, unzipping his jeans and dropping to her knees.

Miranda prided herself on her ability to give a good blow job. She

had nothing but contempt for women who gave a lackluster performance.

She yanked down his jeans and began with a long slow lick from

base to tip, eliciting an approving groan from Archer. When her lips

enveloped the head of his cock for the first time, Miranda taunted him by meeting his eyes and holding their locked gaze all the while she licked

and sucked him off. After breathless minutes of pumping up and down

over his hardened member, she tasted his pre-ejaculate. Her nipples

tightened and tingled, excited by the prospect of tasting his come and

256

FORTUNE'S FOOL

winning their little battle.

Instead, he withdrew from her mouth and stripped down to nothing.

Even in the garish light of the hanging bulb, the sight of his nude body floored Miranda. No desk job for this man. From the looks of his

muscular thighs and rigid abdomen, Archer spent his time in the field,

chasing down the bad guys or whatever it was he did.

Archer raised an eyebrow at her appreciative gaze, but then

narrowed his eyes as if an idea had just occurred to him. He hauled her to her feet and held her by the elbow as he glanced around the room,

seemingly looking for something. He must have found it, for he pulled

her into the corner so fast that he accidentally booted the trash bags at his feet. Scrapped counterfeit bills spilled out at their feet, the botched

leftovers of bleached dollars turned hundreds.

Miranda was so shocked that when he let go of her arm to shove her

against the wall, she fell upon the pile of illegal tender. Although the move was disproportionately rough and violent when compared to their

lovemaking, the aggression actually excited her more than anything.

Miranda found that she loved to be on her hands and knees facing a

corner. The bizarre thought of fucking a stranger on top of a mound of

money in that same corner further encouraged her lust and excitement. It was decadent and outlandish.

She loved it.

Miranda lifted her skirt to the waist and spread her legs, exposing

her pussy to him. He kneeled in the cash next to her, squeezing and

kneading her ass.

"You smell like sex," he said.

She sighed.
Tell me about it.

"You smell like sex," he repeated, "and I want to taste you again. I want to lick your flesh, to flick my tongue over your clit, to suck on the lips of your pussy. I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, Miranda."

Again, he tried to shock her with explicit words. Two could play at

that game. She slipped off her top and unclipped the front closure of her white lace bra. Her tits brushed the counterfeit bills, positioned as she was with her weight resting on her elbows and her ass in the air. She

swayed back and forth, her nipples caressed by the cotton papers.

She slipped her hand beneath her belly and between her legs, resting

her head on her other arm.

"With your tongue, hm?" She sighed dreamily, twirling a finger through the curls of her mound, watching him eye her every move. "I'll 257

D'ARC, GALE, KENT, MARCH

tell you how I want to be fucked, Fed." Right off the bat, she slipped two fingers inside herself in one quick motion.

"I don't want preliminaries. I don't want preparation. I want you to push right into me. I want to feel the head of your hard cock slip through my tight pussy." Miranda pulled her fingers out to lie on either side of her clit, squeezing them together until that little bud of excitement

throbbed to be licked and owned.

She continued, calmly telling him how she wanted to be fucked, all

the while watching his cock dip and rise at each word. "I want to
hear
you fuck me," she went on to say. "The wet, loud sound of your body slapping against mine should be the only thing I hear." The moment she had uttered the words, he growled, diving onto the pile of bills. Roughly digging his hands into her flesh, he grabbed her by the hips and put his mouth to her pussy.

Miranda cried out, more than ready to feel his tongue on her sex. He

didn't disappoint her, starting out with one broad, flat stroke of his tongue on her engorged flesh. The heated liquid of his caress drove her to the

brink of madness, forced her to rock back against his mouth, thoughtless of will or intention. Only pure need remained.

Archer cared nothing for her need or the insanity of her movements.

He forced her to hold still beneath his ministrations, while he sucked her clit and labia. When she refused to conform, he hauled her legs over his shoulders and lay back against the bills, her breasts resting against his navel, her head on his thighs.

A perfect position for distraction from his passionate tonguing.

Without even a nod to gravity, his cock stood up straight, begging

her to wrap her lips around its base, the coarse hairs there brushing

against her face. Archer groaned and the sound vibrated against her

vulva. Combined with the very thought of sucking his dick, that made