Guilty Pleasures (2 page)

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Authors: Donna Hill

BOOK: Guilty Pleasures
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That night in his room, they didn't just have break-your-back sex, they rewrote the book—leaving them dazed, wary of this thing that erupted between them, and wanting more. Jake did things to her pussy that should have been illegal. It yelped and meowed for hours then purred in satisfaction. Management knocked on the door several times following calls from guests concerned that someone was being hurt.

Jake stirred in his sleep. Eva's memories of that first night faded as she glanced over at her husband and smiled. Ten years as partners, five years as man and wife. They'd certainly had their adventures, she mused, and began to gently stroke his shaft. Even at half-mast, it was lethal. She licked her lips as she felt it grow in her grasp.

Jake moaned, opened his eyes. “What man wouldn't want to be awakened with those expert fingers around him

His voice was coated with the veil of sleep, thick and still raspy.

Eva leaned closer. Her strokes grew faster. Jake gripped the sheet in his fists. His breath hissed from between his teeth.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” she whispered before finishing him off in the deep recesses of her hot mouth.

*   *   *

Jake lay sprawled atop the rumpled bed with his hands tucked behind his head. He watched his wife as she moved around the suite, talking about their plans for the day. He loved watching her. He loved everything about her.

Eva was the kind of woman he never thought he'd get. When he saw her that night in Vegas, he knew it was meant to be. Something inside him shifted into overdrive. He hadn't stopped seeing her in his dreams from that evening in Atlantic City. He'd let her get away the first time, but not again.
Screw the con,
he'd thought. In the reflection of her eyes, he saw himself as a horny teenager walking toward her, sure that she'd tell him to get lost, not this dance or any other. But when she opened her legs and let him inside—heaven help him, he was done.

All his life growing up in the belly of urban New York City, he'd drifted in and out of relationships, never staying long enough for anyone to uncover what he really did in his spare time or who he really was beneath the facade. Eva was different. She was a kindred spirit. She understood the art of the game and was ready to play. He'd let her into his life and into his world—at least most of it.

To outsiders, they were simply Mr. and Mrs. Jake Kelly, a young buppie couple living the good life on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Their three-bedroom town house was like every other in the well-to-do neighborhood. They even had a dog to fill out the picture of domestic bliss. Every day Eva went to work at Sebastian's as a senior clothing designer. Jake used his gift of glib and his looks to sell luxury cars. But their real passion was the con. As a team, they'd mastered it. They were unstoppable and had amassed a hefty sum of money from unsuspecting businessmen—the marks were Eva's specialty.

But over the past few months, she'd begun to lose her edge, her fire. Jake was worried.

“Jake I don't know how much longer I can do this,” she'd said about three weeks earlier.

They were in a hotel in Detroit. A convention of CPAs was being hosted there. Eva and Jake were looking over the pictures they were planning to send to the mark's wife.

Jake put aside the Polaroids of Eva in bed with the mark. He looked up at her standing over him. He leaned back in the gilded chair, folded his hands. “Why
We're making more money now than ever.”

“It's not about the money.” She paced in front of him. He tried to keep his eyes on her face and not on her long bare legs.

“Then what is it

She exhaled a breath of frustration, came toward him, and sat down. “I want to settle down, Jake. I want to have a regular life like regular people.”

Jake would have laughed, but he could see she was dead serious. “There's nothing regular about us. This”—he waved his hands across the dozen photos spread across the table—“is what we do, baby. It's who we are.”

Eva tossed her champagne-colored hair away from her face. “It's not who I want to be anymore. We've been in the game long enough. It's time to get out while we still can.”

“Woman, has Rita been in your ear again

“Goodtime” Rita Harris was Eva's first cousin, daughter of Eva's deceased mother's sister, who was also long gone. Rita was a dead ringer for Eva. Those two were thicker than Thelma and Louise. Rita was the party girl of the duo. She'd done time for petty theft, but her specialty was forgery. Her skill was nothing short of genius. He had to give her props. Nonetheless, Rita was the last person that Eva should be listening to, but Rita was about the only person Eva considered a confidante.

“Rita hasn't said a word to me.” She rolled her eyes. “If anything, she'd want me to stay in the game so I can keep buying her those designer gifts that she loves.”

Jake smiled. That was true. Goodtime Rita loved jewelry and clothes almost as much as she loved crafting the perfect identity papers.

“All right, so it wasn't Rita.” He looked her over, searching for some hint in her body language, but it was uncharacteristically rigid. He got up from the table, came around, and stood in front of her. The heat from her body warmed his veins like good brandy. He stepped close enough to hear the sharp intake of her breath.

“Baby,” he crooned.

“Jake…”

“Damn, I love when you say my name like you need it.” He pulled her to her feet and pressed his face against her neck, dragged in a breath. “Love the sound of my name coming from your mouth as much as I like breathing you in.”

Her hand crept like vines along his thighs, stroked them up and down. “Jake.”

A low rumble against her neck was his only audible response. Jake eased her back against the table, knocked the pictures to the floor with a sweep of his hand.

Hunger whipped its tongue through them with long hot strokes.

Jake pushed up her short skirt, nearly ripping it in his haste, moved her panties aside, and put two fingers deep into her wet well. The liquid flowed over them.

Eva moaned. Her back arched. She raised her hips and spread her legs wider, opening to him.

They did it right there on top of the table. A scene right out of
The Postman Only Rings Twice
à la Jack Nicholson.

Yeah, he remembered that night in Detroit like it was yesterday. Good to the last drop.

“… So what do you think, baby

Jake blinked, focused on Eva. “Whatever you want to do is cool with me.”

She put her right hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side. “You didn't hear a damned word I said.” She puckered her lips and waited for him to lie.

He flashed white teeth. “How do you expect me to concentrate with you prancing around here naked

Eva arched a brow, took a harder stance.

Jake held up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right. What did you say

“I was telling you it would be great if we went sightseeing today.”

His face screwed up into a series of wrinkles. “Do we have to

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