Double Jeopardy (5 page)

Animal noises came from deep within as the
pulses started at the base of her spine, shooting through every
sensitive nerve ending she had until her pussy flooded Antoine’s
cock with an orgasm that left her close to death.

He slowed his thrusts and gave her a minute
to recover, kissing the nape of her neck and nibbling up and down
her spine. He pulled out of her, removed the pillows and turned her
to her back.

“Mmmm, what are you doing?” Chloe asked
sleepily.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

“I can see that,” she said, eyeing the
glistening cock that had brought her so much pleasure. “What can I
do to help?”

“Just lay back and enjoy. My time will
come.”

He took a moment to study her in the soft
glow of candlelight. Several of the candles had already gutted
themselves out and the fire in the fireplace had died down to red
embers. Antoine didn’t know if it was afternoon or night, only that
he was destined to be with this woman. She was his match on every
level, though his gut clenched when he thought of what her answer
might be to his proposition.

“I love you, Chloe,” he said softly.

Her eyes grew big and filled with unshed
tears. He flicked and rubbed her clit with his fingers and suckled
her nipples once again, building her arousal until he knew she was
ready for what he had planned.

“Pull your knees to your chest,” he told her
and watched as she obeyed. He ran his finger down her swollen pussy
lips to the puckered star below, rubbing the moisture around and
inside. He grabbed the oil he’d used to massage her earlier from
the table and poured it slowly over his shaft, watching her while
she watched him.

“Just relax,” he said.

He pushed the plump head of his cock into her
anal passage, the small opening devouring his shaft with each small
push. He massaged her clit with his thumb as he felt the resistance
of her anus give way to allow his entrance.

Chloe sucked in a deep breath at the
invasion, but she forced herself to relax, opening the passageway
further so she was helping him penetrate the forbidden orifice.
She’d only experienced anal sex once before, on the day she’d
gotten the job working for Lucian Deveraux. But the stranger who
had introduced her to the act had had a much smaller cock, and it
had been over almost before it had begun.

“That’s the way,” Antoine encouraged. The
sight of his thick rod stretching her tiny hole was amazing. There
was a part of him that wished Lucien could be there and they could
take her like this together, each of them pistoning in and out of
her holes until they both shot their seed inside of her.

“God, you’re so tight.” He gritted his teeth
and closed his eyes. Her tightness was too much. He rubbed his
thumb in faster circles and shoved in and out of her faster,
faster, until both of their moans filled the emptiness of the
bedroom and her ass clinched tight around him.

“That’s it baby, I’m coming.” Each breath was
labored, his words barely a whisper. Sweat poured from his brow and
his balls tightened painfully. Come erupted from his cock and he
filled her ass with his seed. She milked him with every pulse of
her own orgasm until he lay drained and exhausted on top of
her.

Neither of them noticed as the last candle
went out.

Chapter Seven

“Let’s leave this place. Just the two of us,”
Chloe said several hours later. They’d bathed again and slept in
small increments, waking frequently to make love until the shadowy
gray of a rainy New Orleans morning began peeking through the
windows.

“I don’t want to stay here any longer, and I
can’t bear to watch Lucien take you again as his lover.”

“I will have no other lovers now that I’ve
found you,” he said.

“Nor will I,” she promised, “But it is not
necessary for you to give up your love of men for me. I’d never ask
you to give up that side of yourself.”

He kissed her brow and squeezed her hip
gently, and Chloe knew she’d pleased him with her answer.

“And I’d already made up my mind to leave
while Lucien was away. Now you can come with me.”

“Why did you decide to go? How were you
planning to survive on your own?” Antoine asked.

“The same way I did when I was forced to find
work in New Orleans,” she answered. “My husband was murdered just
over a year ago. He and Lucien shared an occupation in common. Both
of them were savvy businessmen who decided to make money off
contraband whiskey.”

She ran her hand down Antoine’s bare chest
and smiled as he sucked in a breath and grabbed her hand before she
could go any lower.

“I didn’t realize you were a widow,” he said
softly.

“It’s still hard for me to believe sometimes.
But Samuel died bringing a shipment to a buyer here in New Orleans.
We’d barely made it across the Louisiana border before he was
shot.”

“Samuel?” Antoine asked. “Samuel Monroe?”

“Yes. I suppose you’ve heard of him. I would
think the circles your business leads you to are rather small
ones.”

“You could say that.” Antoine sat up in bed
and ran a hand down his face. “Your husband is the reason I decided
to break ties with Lucien.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lucien was the buyer your husband was coming
to see. You see, the way Lucien keeps law enforcement under his
control is to give them other distributors to disband or arrest.
The deal he set up with your husband was a ruse to trap him. When
the officer Lucien paid killed Samuel, it just meant there was less
competition he had to deal with in the future and the cops made a
collar. In his eyes, everybody won.”

“Except me.”

“Yes, except you.” Antoine watched her
nervously. The sheets were pulled up high over her breasts in a
protective gesture and her gaze was distant, as if she were
reliving the most horrible day of her life with a different
perspective.

“I guess I should have expected it from the
beginning. I’m sure Lucien found great hilarity in the fact that I
knocked on his door to ask for a job.”

“Lucien would think it was convenient that he
didn’t have to hire men to keep track of your whereabouts.”

“And did you know what he planned to do to my
husband?”

“I swear to you, I did not. I didn’t find out
what had happened until too late. I started making my own plans to
leave the next day.”

“Then you must follow through with your
plans, as I must follow through with mine,” Chloe said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I swore a vow of vengeance on whoever took
the life of my husband. I plan to fulfill it.”
“You can’t do that, Chloe. It would be the same as suicide. Lucien
is protected in ways that you could never dream of.”

“It doesn’t matter. Lucien must be
stopped.”

“And he will be. We will both leave here
today. Can you drive?”

“Yes, of course,” she said awestruck at the
authoritative tone to his voice.

“You’ll take my car and head northwest until
you reach the mountains in Colorado. I have land there and a small
house with cattle and horses. The men who work the ranch know me as
Billy McKenzie. I’ll send a letter with you explaining to them that
you’re my wife and you’re to make yourself at home. I’ll follow a
couple of hours behind you taking a different route to make sure no
one is following us. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but how does us running like cowards
make Lucien pay?”

“I have information to turn over to the
federal authorities in Washington D.C. There’s a man there who’s
known for being a straight arrow, for never succumbing to bribes.
He’ll take care of Lucien. Do you trust me?”

“With all my heart.”

“Then let’s get going before the sun decides
to come out.”

Chloe packed the few belongings she had
quickly and tucked the letter Antoine had written proclaiming her
as his wife into her handbag. She followed him through the
servant’s stairs to the basement and watched as he opened a hidden
door that was made to look like the rest of the stone walls. They
fled through a long, dark corridor that smelled of damp and must.
By the time they reached the end to the cluster of rocks and brush
that hid the tunnel from view, rain was falling in heavy sheets and
she was panting for breath. She smelled the mud and silt of the
Mississippi as the rain churned it toward the surface. She knew
they were down by the docks.

Antoine grabbed her close and put his mouth
to her ear so she could hear over the echoing rain that pounded
outside the tunnel walls. His warm breath sent shivers over her
chilled skin and she held him close, knowing they’d be separated
all too soon.

“The docks are empty at this time of day,” he
said. “My car is just a few steps away. Do exactly as I told you
and everything will be all right.”

“Antoine,” Chloe said softly. She touched her
hand to the side of his face and brought her lips up to his—a last
kiss until they met again.

“God, I want you still,” he said.

Chloe felt his arousal against her mound and
moaned into his mouth. “One more time,” she said, fisting her hands
in his hair.

The wall was cold against her back, a
combination of dirt and rock soiling the back of her dress. They
were both frantic in their need. Lips and tongue clashed and hands
roamed possessively. It was lust at its core. Fucking in the truest
sense of the word. He pushed her dress above her hips and ripped
her bloomers from her body, lifting her legs so they wrapped around
his waist. He plunged into her wet heat, shooting her to a
shattering climax in seconds. She felt his body stiffen and his hot
seed pour into her moments later.

They both panted for breath, holding on to
each other to keep from falling to their knees. They righted their
clothes and didn’t speak. Tears ran down Chloe’s cheeks, mixing
with the rain, as she left Antoine in the dark tunnel.

Chloe didn’t miss the irony in the fact that
she was leaving Lucien Deveraux’s home much like the way she came.
Her clothes dirty, her hair disheveled and come running down her
legs.

Antoine watched Chloe leave and knew his
chances of ever seeing her again were few. He had papers to
gather—the information he’d promised Chloe he’d send to Washington,
and a few legal papers declaring Chloe and any children they might
have conceived his legal heirs. He’d have a fake marriage
certificate drawn up and sent to her. She’d be taken care of. No
matter what.

He knew what Chloe had said was true. Lucien
Deveraux had to be stopped. And the only way he would be stopped is
if he was dead. Antoine was the only man who had enough inside
knowledge to see it done properly. He’d leave New Orleans, just as
he’d told Chloe he would, but he’d head north on the road to
Chicago and meet Lucien on his way back. If he was lucky he’d kill
Lucien and get away before his guards could retaliate. If he wasn’t
so lucky…

At least Chloe would be safe.

Chapter Eight

The further Chloe drove from Antoine and New
Orleans, the worse the feeling in her gut. Antoine’s plan wouldn’t
end well. It would take a miracle for him to survive such a
suicidal mission.

She drove straight through the day and night,
stopping when she could for fuel, but not to eat or sleep. Her
tears had dried somewhere in Texas. She stopped and bought a new
dress—a respectable dress—at a store in Dallas. And just outside of
Boulder, Colorado, she stopped to comb her hair and pinch her
cheeks. A new home waited for her. A new life. And she wasn’t going
to arrive there looking like the maid she’d been for the past year.
If she was lucky Antoine would meet her soon. If she wasn’t, she’d
never see him again. Either way she’d survive. Just like
always.

She stopped the car outside of the McKenzie
ranch and stared at the big iron M on the gate. There was land for
as far as the eye could see—rolling hills dotted with cattle and
horses. She couldn’t see the house from the road, but a large barn
sat to the left and a small, ramshackle cabin sat to the right.

Chloe took a deep breath. “I’m Chloe
McKenzie. This is my home.” And she pressed her foot down on the
accelerator and drove through the gate. The road to the main house
was graveled and rutted, and she bounced in the seat uncomfortably.
And then the main house came into view.

It wasn’t what she’d been expecting.

Two stories of rustic wood sat in front of
her. Split logs darkened with age, and a wrap-a-round porch newly
painted in bright white. A porch swing and two large rocking chairs
sat on the porch. The windows of the house were open and white
curtains billowed with the breeze. It looked…nice. Comfortable.

She got out of the car and an older woman
came out onto the porch with an apron tied around her ample waist.
She held her hand up to shade her eyes and squinted in Chloe’s
direction.

“Can I help you?” she called out.

“I hope so,” Chloe said with a friendly
smile. She made her way up the steps to the woman and held out her
hand. When the woman took it she said, “I’m Chloe McKenzie. Billy’s
wife.”

The woman’s mouth dropped open for a moment
in surprise, but she quickly gathered her wits. “Well, my goodness.
I didn’t know Billy had gotten married. Is he with you?”

“No, but he sent a letter. He had some
business to see to and plans to meet me here in a few weeks.” Chloe
pulled the letter from her hand bag and handed it over to the
woman. She read it quickly and put it in her apron pocket.

“Well, I’m Mrs. Peace, the housekeeper. Let
me get your things and I’ll show you to your room. I’ve still got
something hot on the stove if you’re hungry.”

“Yes, please. I drove straight through. I’m
famished. Don’t worry about my bag. I’ll get it later”