In Too Deep (11 page)

“Water,” Erin said.

“Just water?” The bartender pushed something across the counter to her. “You sure you’re not up for something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like a lucky charm.” The pierced girl lifted her hand, revealing a small baggie of pills, each one shaped like a four-leaf clover. Erin recognized them as one of the many shapes and sizes that Ecstasy came in.

“No thanks,” she said, and taking her bottled water, headed off toward the dance floor as Kid Rock blasted from the speakers.

She spotted Patricia dancing in between two women, her left arm wrapped around the woman in front of her while the other hugged the woman behind her, creating an erotic sandwich in which she was the filling.

Sweat laced with desire crept through Erin’s pores. She wanted more than anything to stare continuously, to allow the sensual scene to assault her erogenous zones, awakening the fierce hunger that followed a long hibernation. But bodies crowded hers, blocking the addictive spectacle. She could smell the sweet scent of sweat mingled with perfume and cigarette smoke and took another sip of the cold water before dumping the remainder over her head. Its iciness shocked her but did little to cool her down from the heated sight of Patricia and the sex sandwich. Frustrated, she tossed the empty bottle aside and ran her hands through her wet hair, shaking the water free.

“Hot?” a deep, throaty voice questioned in her ear. A split second later the body followed, pressing up against her from behind.

“A little.” Erin glanced sideways, expecting another come-on from a lonely lesbian. Instead she found herself face-to-face with Elizabeth Adams. A thrill rushed through her and she found it difficult to swallow, though not from nervousness.

The dark-haired woman standing before her was absolutely breathtaking: five feet and ten inches of pure strength and sexuality, a carved icon of beauty and grace, all in one package. She smiled a devilishly seductive smile and pulled Erin easily into her taller, stronger frame.

“Maybe I can help.” Her eyes flickered with mischief. They were as light as ice, a shade of blue Erin had never encountered before.

“How so?” Erin reminded herself to remain calm and to act uninterested. But the photos had done nothing to prepare her for Adams’s raw beauty.

In a white button-down Western shirt with the sleeves torn off, she looked incredibly sexy. Her jeans were faded and ragged and hugged nicely to her long, firm legs. White and brown snakeskin boots finished off her outfit.

She drew closer, allowing Erin to feel the harnessed power of her body. The alluring scent of men’s cologne tickled Erin’s nostrils. Adams started to move against her in the same erotic dance Patricia had reveled in, a gentle gyration of legs and hips, arms held firm and fast. Erin loosened her nerve tight limbs and let them fall into tune with Adams’s.

“I could start by offering you a cold drink, somewhere away from all these sweating bodies,” Adams whispered seductively in her ear, causing chill bumps to come alive all over her body.

“And where might that be?” Erin asked, inhaling her scent.

“Upstairs in the VIP room,” she purred. “I came all the way down here to invite you personally.” She pulled back slightly, her arms still resting possessively on Erin’s hips. “I’m Liz, by the way.”

“Katherine,” Erin said. “I met your friend Tyson earlier.” She tossed her head in the direction of the huge man now looming by the stairs.

“Yes, he tells me you weren’t very nice.”

“He did, did he?”

“Yes, he said that you hit on him and then when he refused your sexual advances, you took advantage of him anyway.”

Erin laughed, and allowed herself to relax a little. “I guess I was a little aggressive.”

“Let’s hope you’re the same way with me.” Adams grinned and raised her hand to wipe water from Erin’s face.

“So what’s upstairs that’s so much better than down here?”

The grin widened. “Me.”

Erin’s heart flipped in her chest. Patricia was right; their target was charming as hell. Tall, gorgeous, powerful in body and in life. Falling for her would be so easy, as it obviously was for countless other women. But Erin was on assignment, and Adams was most likely a killer.

“Maybe some other time,” she said, playing her part.

The grip on Erin’s hips tightened, moving down to her backside. “This is an offer you can’t refuse.”

“It’s a big deal, huh? Getting a personal invitation?” Erin did her best to act tough, while the temptation to melt into Adams’s arms grew stronger, a mere sigh away.

“Most people don’t require such”—she leaned in, placing her mouth once again against Erin’s ear—“personal attention.”

Erin nearly melted on the spot. She clenched her jaw and prayed for control. “Well, I’m not most people, am I?”

“No, you’re definitely not most people,” Adams continued in her ear. “And I have a feeling you’ll require a lot more of my…personal attention.” She took the tip of Erin’s earlobe in her mouth and lightly sucked.

Erin shuddered, her grip tightening on Adams’s strong arms. The combination of hot breath in her ear and hot mouth on her earlobe was too much to bear. She pushed herself away, suddenly thankful that she had to act uninterested. Breaking their contact would allow her to regain her bearings.

“So show me this VIP room of yours,” she said, and ran her hands through her wet hair, sending cool drops down the back of her neck and into her vest, helping to bring her back to reason.

Adams seized her hand possessively. “You got it.”

She led Erin through the crowd, brushing past Patricia and her dancing duo. Out of the corner of her eye, Erin saw Patricia observing them, and part of her felt victorious and spiteful at having nabbed Adams. Maybe now it would be Patricia’s turn to have to watch while jealousy possessively crawled up her throat. She immediately scolded herself for the thought. They were here to do a job, nothing more. If she felt jealous and possessive of Patricia, that was her own problem. The detective merely perceived her as a coworker, a friend at the most.

She dragged her concentration back to her target, observing the effect Adams had on the women around her. Many stopped dancing to stare as they passed by. But their eyes weren’t on Erin—they were on Liz, lustful and hungry. A few hopefuls approached, trying to get her attention any way they could, but she looked past them, through them. It seemed she had acquired what interested her, and now she parted the waters with her trophy in tow.

They headed over to the private staircase where Tyson stood guarding the velvet ropes. He nodded his head at Adams as they approached, and removed the rope to let them pass.

*

The VIP room was darker than the rest of the club, hidden from the strobes and lights of the dance floor. Erin squinted, trying to adjust to the dim surroundings. She was able to make out numerous lounge chairs and love seats where some women sat close and talked while others kissed and groped.

They walked up to a bar on the left side of the room, made noticeable only by a blue neon strip that ran along its edge. A woman stood behind the bar wearing a Western bowtie and a cowboy hat. Her breasts were covered by what Erin at first thought was a tight leather vest, but upon closer inspection realized was painted on with what she could only guess was some sort of body latex.

Instantly intrigued by the all-but-naked woman, she leaned on the bar while Adams ordered their drinks, and tried to get a look at what the bartender was wearing below the waist. When she moved, Erin could see that she had on extremely short cut-off jeans and cowboy boots with spurs.

Adams handed her a screwdriver and as they walked further into the room, Erin watched some of the women on the sofas, transfixed by their kissing. One in particular caught her attention, a woman engrossed in a threesome, two others licking and sucking on her neck.

Astonished, she asked, “Isn’t that—”

“Yes.” Adams sounded completely nonchalant about having a prominent Hollywood actress making out in her club.

Desire and disbelief collided in Erin’s veins. It had long been rumored that the woman was a lesbian, but it had never been publicly confirmed.

“Would you like to meet her?” Liz offered, gently steering Erin over.

Not wanting to interrupt the kissing trio, Erin said, “No, it’s okay.”

But Adams forged ahead. “Angie?” The woman continued kissing, oblivious to their presence. More loudly, Adams repeated, “Angie.”

Angie put up a halfhearted struggle to dislodge her lips from one her partners’, but then returned to kissing the woman on her left, their lips connecting with shorter, stronger pulls.

“I want you meet someone,” Adams said, this time more forcefully.

Angie seemed to pick up on the stronger tone, and pulled away from her kissing.

“This is Katherine.” Adams gently pulled Erin forward.

Angie pried herself up from the couch and smoothed down her deep brown leather pants. She wore a very thin white tank top, showing off her ample, unharnessed breasts.

Embarrassed at interrupting the famous woman, and feeling like a little kid meeting her favorite movie star, Erin said, “I’m sorry. I—”

“Hi, Katherine, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Angie smiled a thousand-watt smile, her inviting lips bruised and swollen from kissing. She placed a hand on Erin’s shoulder, halfway hugging her.

Completely lost for words, Erin felt Angie’s breast against her own and mumbled, “I’m a…a huge fan.” She immediately felt stupid at having said it aloud. But Angie didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, it looks to me like you should be the one in pictures,” the actress said, her eyes lingering on Erin’s lips.

“Yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she?” Adams said. “We were just going to go have a drink.”

“Maybe I can join you.” Angie’s eyes never wavered from Erin’s face.

“Some other time,” Adams said, and led Erin away.

At a large metal door, she typed in a number code on a keypad and the door clicked open.

“What’s this?” Erin asked.

“My private lair.” Adams smiled at her.

Erin hesitated momentarily, gathering her thoughts. Meeting Angie Hartman had thrown her for a loop, leaving her almost giddy with excitement.

The room they entered was large and spacious, containing a lounge area with furniture in light browns and grays and leading into an adjoining room with a king-sized bed. The two vast windows Erin had noticed from the outside provided an incredible view of the Valle Luna nightline.

A bank of security monitors lined the wall behind the vast bar. She counted fifteen, each capturing a different view of the club, the parking lot, and main entrance. Adams had spotted her before she’d even set foot in the club.

“That’s quite a setup you have there.” Erin pretended to sip her drink. It looked and smelled like a screwdriver, but she didn’t want to risk it. Not yet.

“Security is important to me.”

“Don’t you mean voyeurism?”

Adams raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. “I hate these Wild West parties,” she said after a moment. “But my friends from Philly love them.” Capturing Erin’s gaze, she began unbuttoning her shirt. “They all think we ride around on horseback and eat tumbleweed.” The white shirt parted and Erin looked away, not yet ready to see the body underneath. Adams bent and pulled off her boots, tossing them across the room where they came to rest with a thud. She eyed Erin hungrily. “Now, how about we take the cowboy off of you?”

Erin didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her voice had disappeared along with the courage she was so sure she would have.

Adams stepped ever closer, her head cocked to one side. “Why haven’t you ever been to my club before?” she asked, allowing her shirt to flap openly.

“Maybe I have,” Erin said, looking at her face, careful not to look at her body. Even so, her eyes were still able to make out a white bra against tanned skin.

“Uh-uh. No chance.” Adams ran a hand slowly up the outside of Erin’s arm. “I would’ve noticed you.”

Erin’s eyes strayed to the contracting muscles lined up neatly on the taller woman’s abdomen. “I don’t usually do the nightclub scene,” she said.

“Well, then tell me…” Adams stepped into her and lightly kissed her neck. “What do you do?”

Erin inhaled her alluring scent, and heat raced to her loins. She backed away, her heart pounding with want. “Not this.” She gave Adams her best stern look. “If you think I’m going to sleep with you, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“It wasn’t sleep that I had in mind.” Adams closed the gap between them once more.

Erin wanted to close her eyes and drift into her, but she knew she couldn’t afford to get lost in the arms of the dangerous Elizabeth Adams, potentially jeopardizing her assignment. Instead, she placed her hands firmly on Adams’s broad shoulders and held her at bay.

“Look, all this may impress other women—the club, the celebrities, your mindless charm. But it doesn’t impress me.” She held the other woman’s stare without flinching. “I’m not out for some quick roll in the hay. This is exactly why I don’t do the nightclub scene.” She didn’t mean a damn word she was saying, but she hoped it sounded convincing.