Chapter Nine

 

Half an hour later, they were driving down Priestley Avenue—an exclusive tree-lined street in West Hampstead with tall white, oversized houses standing to attention. Each house had black, spiked railings separating them from the wide pavement, and neat topiary trees stood like fat butlers on the imposing doorways. All but a few were in complete darkness.

John swung the bike to the end of the street, hoping he would find the garages belonging to the expensive homes. He was in luck. As he killed the engine and came to a roll, neat rows of white garages were tucked behind the houses. A quick search on the ambling bike soon produced garage number 132 half a dozen doors up.

They both slid silently off the bike.

Kat reached down and pulled at the small, cold handle. It was, of course, firmly locked. “Damn,” she muttered. “Now what are we going to do?”

John already had his knife out and was unfolding a long, thin gadget from the handle. Bending double in the darkness, he fiddled for fifteen seconds before trying the handle once again. The door pulled upwards.

“Impressive,” Kat muttered in mock admiration. “Is that essential military expertise or have you picked it up from somewhere else?”

“It was essential in my line of work,” he whispered, lifting the door carefully.

“You never did tell me. What did your unit do in the army?”

“You’re right. I didn’t tell you.” He ducked his head. “Result, it’s here!”

Kat rushed forward.

John’s Porsche sat in the darkness. No longer silver, but a metallic shade of azure blue.

“Excellent.” Kat grinned but then her face dropped. “But how are we going to get into it. These cars are useless without their keys, virtually impossible to break into. That’s the whole reason Carlos had me, remember?”

The car indicator lights flashed twice, the orange glow lit up the inside of the garage as a quick, high pitched beep echoed rudely into the quiet.

Kat turned to John, puzzled.

“Spare key.”

“Good thinking.” She walked up to the trunk as he popped it open remotely.

 

* * * *

 

John ducked his head as he came to stand next to her. A weak light showed the trunk held a green first-aid box and an empty cola can. Neither of which were his. Barely able to contain his apprehension, he reached into the semi-darkness and began to get his bearings within the small space. Trying to remember exactly where he’d cut the hole in the lining and secreted the diamonds away.

Eventually, after what felt like an age, his fingertip poked inwards. “Yes, I’ve found the hole.”

“And the diamonds?”

His heart went from skipping with elation to pounding with fury when he found nothing within the hole. “Shit! They’re gone.”

“No, they can’t be. Let me look!” Kat pushed him out the way and shoved her hand into the trunk. “Oh God,” she said, delving into the empty space. “Now what?”

“The valet boy. Carlos’s kid who does up the cars. It must be him. I’d bet my life he’s got the diamonds.”

“You reckon? He didn’t look bright enough to find a well-hidden hole like this.”

“He wouldn’t have to be bright, just thorough in his refit. And let’s face it, those cars back there were getting a damn good sort out.” He shut the trunk of his car and locked it. “I’m guessing Carlos doesn’t get his hands dirty in the garage. He’s the organiser, the boss, out hustling up business and looking out for the next car. Which means that dozy kid has my whole damn future stashed away somewhere” He pulled the garage door closed.

“Aren’t you going to take your car now you’ve found it?” Kat asked. “I could drive it for you.”

“I know where it is. When I want it back, I’ll come and get it.” He marched over to the bike, pulled his helmet on, swung his leg over the seat and revved the engine, no longer worried about being quiet. “Are you coming or what?”

“But what’s the plan?”

 “We go back to Carlos’s workshop and ruffle up the kid.”

Kat stood rooted to the ground.

“Carlos won’t be there. He’ll be at hospital having his shoulder shoved back into its socket, and it will take a while with all that muscle mass to heave against.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Now, get on or I’ll leave you here.”

By the time they’d returned to Carlos’ garage, the sky was turning a lighter shade of blue in the east. Once again, John pulled the bike up behind the skip.

Carlos’s workshop appeared deserted. The lights at the windows were off and the thump of rap music had been replaced with silence.

Kat pointed to the row of scruffy, dark terraced houses at the end of the street. “He lives in the end one, doesn’t he? You think he’s in?”

“I’m guessing he’s done his night’s work and hit the sack. But not for much longer. I need a chat with his sorry arse.” John waited until Kat had climbed off the bike and then hoisted himself off. Without bothering to remove his helmet, he strode towards the front door.

“Wait, wait, let’s cover all our bases here.”

John kept on walking.

“Let me talk to him.”

“Why?” John said with a snort as he stopped and turned to look at her. “Why on earth would I do that? I can get more out of him than you can.”

Kat put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. “You reckon…soldier?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched and he turned and continued on his way.

“John. At least listen to me.” Kat ran several quick steps and grabbed his arm. “For crying out loud, stop a minute, will you?”

John blew out a deep sigh and halted.

“Let me go and speak to him while you turn the place over.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because he’s a kid. He’s much more likely to talk if he is being treated nice than if he’s being bullied by a brute like you.” She frowned as if he was totally stupid not to see her point. “I’ll go and ask him nicely if he knows where they are, and you look around the place. Check under his mattress, behind pictures, that sort of thing. You can’t push a kid around, even you know that.”

“Alright. But only because I don’t want to thump a teenager. But if you get nothing out of him, he’s all mine…right.”

“Great,” said Kat with a smile. “Back me up, will you, and make sure you keep the noise down.”

He tutted and ducked into a neighbour’s narrow porch so he was out of sight.

 

* * * *

 

Kat moved to the end house and knocked on the peeling, red door. She turned to look at John, and sent a hint of a smile his way before the door was opened.

“Hi,” she said softly to the pimply, sleepy face. But it was only sleepy for a second, because then the opener of the door saw who was addressing him, and the tired eyes grew wide and a nervous twitch tugged at his left nostril.

He glanced up and down the street. “Shit, what the hell are you doing at my house?” A noticeable lisp played with his s’s.

Kat smiled warmly. “Can I come in? Just for a minute.”

He frowned but stepped into the small hallway and made enough room so she could enter onto the frayed carpet. Carefully, she pushed the front door up behind her, being sure not to click the lock into place.

Her nerves were cool as ice. Now was the time to do what she was most skillful at, most practiced at. Getting what she wanted by turning on her female charm. Using her strong sexual powers to hypnotise and mesmerise her victims until they were putty in her hands. She could handle this kid. He looked young, sure, but not so young he wouldn’t think with his dick.

“What are you doing here?” he asked again, roaming his attention over her leather outfit.

“What’s your name?” Kat strutted into the living room.

“Todd.” He followed, and she sensed his gaze on her rear.

“You know who I am Todd, don’t you?”

“Of course I know who you are. You get cars for Carlos.”

“Ahh, I see, so where have you seen me before, Todd?” She kept her voice smooth but loud enough to cover any noise John might make as he made his way up the staircase.

“I’ve seen you loads when you drop cars off. Like earlier when you brought the Merc.”

“You were there, tonight?”

Todd flattened his shoulders as if proud of what he was about to say. “I was in the BMW.”

“Are you old enough to drive?”

“I’ve got my provisional I’m eighteen, you know.” He huffed. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I need to talk to you.” She smiled and stepped closer.

“What about? Not Carlos? ‘Cause he’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“Up the hospital. Had a run in with someone, wouldn’t say who, but he was in a bad way with his arm when I dropped him at the emergency room.”

Good, Carlos is out of the way.

“Todd, I don’t want to talk about Carlos. I want to talk about you.” She turned up her attack, stepped closer so he backed up against the wall.

“Why? W-w-w-what do you want to talk to me about?”

“Because,” she put her hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, “because, Todd, you have something I want.” She trailed her hand over his skinny chest.

His gaze followed her hand as it flowed over his non-existent abdominal muscles, reached his naval and finally came to a halt at the waistband of his jeans.

She hooked her finger over the fly button. “Do you know what I want?”

He said nothing.

With her other hand, Kat reached up to the metal zip on her own jacket and began undoing it very, very slowly, pulling it low so her soft cleavage was partially exposed. “Do I have anything you want Todd?” she said licking her lips. “Maybe we could trade?”

“I, er…I, er…don’t know,” Todd stammered again, unwilling or unable to remove his gaze from the top of her breasts.

“Diamonds,” she whispered, pressing her body against his. “I’m looking for diamonds.”

He dragged his attention from her breasts to her eyes.

Kat studied the depths of his pupils, there was definitely something lurking there. Acknowledgement? Deception? No, it was more like comprehension.

A triumphant release of adrenaline spurred her on. He knew exactly what she was talking about. “Where are they, Todd. I know you have them.” She put her lips so close to his, practically a kiss. “Tell me where my diamonds are, and I’ll give you what you want. Exactly what you want.”

He stared at her, clearly not believing his luck that he had an amazingly sexy, ready and willing woman pressed against his hormone-ravaged body. He didn’t utter a word, didn’t move a muscle. The room was perfectly silent and still.

There was a bang on the floorboard upstairs.

Todd’s head jerked upwards. “What was that?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” she answered, her voice silky and soothing. She lifted her hand and pulled his face down to regain his attention. “Have you got a girlfriend, Todd?”

“Err…no, no…not at the moment.” He licked his lips, and his focus returned to Kat’s ample chest pressing against his.

She plucked the necklace from her cleavage and swirled it between her fingers like a hypnotist. “Do you want a girlfriend?” She cocked her head to the side. “I would be a really good girlfriend.”

His eyes stayed fixed on the pendant. He looked like he might burst with lust. Kat lifted his oil-stained hand and placed it flat on the leather covering the lower half of her left breast. “I go all the way,” she murmured. “Have you ever been all the way?”

He shook his head, his mouth hanging open even further than before.

“If you give me the diamonds, Todd, I’ll be your girlfriend. We’ll go all the way.” She prepared herself for the final assault and pushed her mouth up to his. She only just controlled the shudder of repulsion as she felt his weak rubbery lips and tasted his sleep stale breath. He started to kiss her back, his mouth moving out of sync with hers as his other hand clamped onto her right breast and squeezed.

She broke the kiss. “You do have the diamonds, don’t you?” She stepped backwards so his hands fell away.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I have the diamonds. They were in that Porsche you got last week.”

“Are they here?”

“Yep.”

Kat treated him to another hot kiss. His hands moved to her buttocks, and he pulled her hard against his clearly excited body. She allowed it for a moment then, pushing away, said, “Hey, show me the diamonds first, big boy.”

He grinned manically and tried to grab her again.

“Ah, ah.” Kat held up a finger to his wet lips. “Show me the diamonds, Todd. It will get me even more turned on…for you.”

He grinned, licked his lips and side-stepped to a low bookcase next to the fireplace. There were no books, just car magazines precariously balanced on thin shelves. On the very top was a small, rusty tin box with a picture of a red steam train on the lid. Todd poked his dirty thumbnail under the lid, and it pinged open.

Kat hovered next to him. Anticipation killing her. She held her breath as Todd pulled out a small black velvet bag with a drawstring top. It was exactly as John had described.

Todd really does have the diamonds.

The kid was even dopier than he looked—millions of pounds worth of diamonds sitting in an old tin on his bookcase.

“Is that them?” She reached out her hand.

“Not so fast.” Todd lifted them high, way out of her reach. “You get the diamonds afterwards.”

“But I want to see them first.”

“No. You’ll see them afterwards, like I said. Now come here and give me what I want, girlfriend.” He made a lunge for her waist.

Kat dodged to the right, and his open arms closed around thin air. “Don’t get silly, Todd. A deal is a deal. I want to look at the diamonds, and then we’ll do what you want to do.”

“That’s not the deal anymore. It’s my turn to have you after sitting waiting all those times while you screwed all those other pricks.” He stepped forward.

Kat backed up to the opposite side of the room.

He was tall and fast on his feet, not to mention annoying—seriously annoying.
It was late, she was tired and she wanted her diamonds.


Clenching her right fist and letting the joint of her middle finger jab outwards, she weighted into a balanced stance. She waited the split second it took for Todd to reach her, then struck out at his rapidly approaching head.

She made contact with the soft flesh on the indent of his temple. Her one protruding knuckle joint delivered a hard, vicious blow which stopped him in his tracks.

An expression of stunned surprise crossed his face, but only for the time it took for him to blink, then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he folded to the floor. His limbs crumbling like a building being demolished.

 

* * * *

 

John peered through the crack in the living room door. He could see Kat backed into the corner and the lanky kid heading straight for her with his arms outstretched. Fast and leery, he looked full of malicious intent and not likely to take no for an answer.

John’s muscles twitched under his leathers. He would have to go and give the kid a good hiding after all.

What he saw next stopped him.

He wasn’t needed.

Kat pounced at her attacker, knocking him flat to the floor with one brutal strike to the head. John knew it was brutal because she’d got him like that once. Only he hadn’t crumpled in a heap like the kid.

John almost felt sorry for him; almost, but not quite.

Kat stooped and took a wonderfully familiar looking velvet bag from the kid’s clenched fist and slipped it into her jacket pocket. She rolled the kid over, fussed with his neck and leg until he was in a textbook recovery position then straightened, rubbing her palms together as if to rid them of dirt.

Quietly John ducked outside and leant against mossy, brickwork. His heart soared. She had the diamonds. He couldn’t wait to be re-united with the bag of gems he’d nurtured and watched grow over the last year. It would be like seeing an old friend. Only this old friend would make him rich. Very rich

He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as Kat stepped out of the house a few seconds later.

“Well,” he grinned, hardly able to contain himself, “let’s see them.”

“See, what?” she replied, keeping her gaze glued to the end of the street.

“The diamonds, let’s see the diamonds.”

“Carlos has them. Todd handed them over when he found them last week.” She shoved her hand on her hip and glared up at him. “You should have asked Carlos about the bloody diamonds when you were in a position to.” Her voice was full of scorn. “Because now he’s at the hospital getting his messed up arm sorted.”

“But…” The smile fell from his face.

Kat’s green eyes narrowed, and she looked even more feline than usual. “We may as well go. You can drop me off at my apartment.”

She turned and strutted towards the bike, her arse wiggling from side to side and her arms swinging.

The little bitch.

She had the diamonds and she wasn’t going to tell him.

He couldn’t believe it.

After all they’d been through. Hell, he’d nearly taken a bullet for her. She’d been grateful enough for that gesture at the time.

But two could play at this game.

He’d show her.
He’d play her double-crossing game and win hands down. She’d picked the wrong opponent this time. He wouldn’t be duped by her—not again. And to think he’d even begun to feel a little guilty that he wasn’t giving her as much as she thought she was getting.

He made fast strides to catch up, his knee shouting a reminder it was a long time since medication. “So what’s the plan, Pussy Cat?” he asked trying to keep his voice light.

“You take me home, then you go back to your own apartment.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “There’s no need to stick with me anymore, John. I’ve done my part of the deal.”

“But don’t you want your share of the diamonds? I’m going to speak to our mate Carlos when he’s back from the hospital. Find out where they are and then we can split them, like we always said we would.” He wondered if she might smile and produce the velvet bag from her pocket, kiss him and tell him she’d been teasing.

She didn’t.

She remained cool and distant as she slammed her helmet on. “If you find the diamonds, then I’ll have my share. If they even exist, that is. For all I know, you made the whole thing up,” she paused, “because you wanted to hang out in my apartment all week.”

“What?” John’s chest felt like it had been slammed into by a truck. “If you really think that, you’ve gone bloody crazy, woman.” His voice was ragged with indignation. “Do you think I’ve liked hanging out with you all damn week? Hairdressers, shopping, all that crap you’ve given me. It’s hardly been a bloody holiday.” He was shouting now. “Why the hell would I put myself through that if I didn’t have to?”

“You certainly looked as if you were having a good time in my bed.”

“You liked having me in your fucking bed,” he snarled. “You liked having my cock in every fucking hole you’ve got.”

Roughly, he pulled on his own helmet and swung himself onto the bike. Kat slid behind him and curled her arms around his waist. But it didn’t feel intimate anymore. Now her arms felt functional, necessary. There was no caress, no sneaky feel of his abs beneath the leather of his jacket, and she didn’t press herself onto his back before they’d even moved away.

He revved the engine loud, louder still, not giving a damn who heard them. He pulled off so fast Kat was forced to grip hard. He charged down the narrow back street on the wrong side of the road, stormed faster and faster on to the main roads, not slowing at stop signs and skipping reds.

 

* * * *

 

By the time they hit the North Circular, Kat was terrified. She’d been on the back of the bike lots of times, but John had never driven like this. Reckless, risk taking and with a total disregard for safety. He had a death wish, and he was going to taking her out with him.

Are diamonds worth death?

Doubts seeped into her conscience. Perhaps she was wrong to lie and keep the riches to herself. Perhaps this was one occasion where honesty would have served her better. Their knees skimmed the surface of the road, a tight bend taken way too fast. She caught her breath and prayed for the bike to return to an upright position. Damn him, she thought as the events of the last week flashed before her like a life before death. Damn him for making her care enough to feel guilty.

She visualised him in her kitchen with ingredients spread on the work surfaces and the pan hissing as he seared steaks. Saw him sprawled on the sofa smiling over at her with heavy eyes as he rubbed her feet, then pictured him in the shower, gloriously naked and covered in frothy, white suds. She remembered him brushing away her tears and making soothing noises as he held her tightly against his chest, remembered their delicious feeling of connection which had made her feel safe and wanted for the first time in her life.

But that was in the past. John was in the past.

She clenched her fists around his abdomen. She had to erase those emotions and think of the future. Her future. The fact that John had managed to get close, tear down her walls was irrelevant, because without the diamonds, she may as well have taken Carlos’s bullet in the head and be dead and buried. Without the money, lots of money, she’d be on the streets, fending for herself, fighting to survive. She didn’t think she could go back and be that person again. She hadn’t wanted to be that wretched soul the first time round, and the thought of having to dodge an enraged Carlos and his henchmen as well as survive London’s dark, cold alleys was so terrifying it made her dizzy and wrung out her heart.

She held her breath as John skipped another red, narrowly missing a car which slammed on the brakes and whacked on the horn. John didn’t even slow down, didn’t even appear to notice their close shave with the Grim Reaper.

Kat saw Carlos’s ugly, swollen face snarling before her mind’s eye and shuddered at the foul image. There were no more jobs with Carlos; she was officially retired from that corrupt game, thank goodness. She hoped she’d never see him again. He would rape her and kill her, slowly and painfully. It made her all the more resolute about her decision to keep the diamonds. She had to put her safety and her life above her feelings for John. Survival was her only option, her only choice.

But the little bag of diamonds had felt so light. Was there really two million pounds worth in there? She had no idea about such things, but couldn’t take the risk that John had lied about how much was in the little velvet pouch. He’d lied about other things—so had she—so why should she trust him to have told the truth about what a few gems were worth?

She had plenty of money in her bank account. But now, she’d need to find somewhere else to live and that would use up a big chunk of the diamonds. Eventually, she’d need more money, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d be back to doing a normal job, like a normal person. She didn’t want that. Not now she’d gotten used to finer things.

Kat set her jaw determinedly as she tucked her head tighter between John’s shoulder blades. He was accelerating wildly along Park Lane. Yes, the diamonds—all the diamonds— would be her ticket to a financially secure future. Since John had effectively ruined her future in one night, it seemed only fair that she should keep them. He could go get himself some more, whereas she was hardly likely to find another Carlos to work for.

They finally arrived in the basement of her apartment block.

John clicked off the engine and waited for Kat to slide off the bike. “This is all yours now,” he said handing her the keys.

“Yep.” Kat decided not to complain about his awful driving. What was the point? Soon, he’d be gone forever, and she’d have the loot. Bringing up his death wish handling of the bike might just delay his departure. And after all…they had made it back alive.

He climbed off and stepped up close, his leathers creaking in the silence of the underground car park.

Kat couldn’t bring herself to catch his eye. The sooner he was gone the better. Then she could be on her own again. It was what she was used to. What she preferred. It was so much simpler than having to think of someone else all the time. It was so much simpler than caring.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” he said.

“Unless you find the diamonds, then I’d appreciate my share.” Kat crossed her arms. “Some honour among thieves would be a refreshing change, don’t you think?”

“Honour among thieves,” he repeated with a raise of his eyebrows and a slow nod. “Interesting idea, Pussy Cat.”

She pursed her lips and flicked her attention towards the elevator.

“If I track them down, you’ll be the first to know.” He bent and pushed his lips to her cheek. “See you around, Pussy Cat.”

Then he was gone. His body heat lost as he stepped past her and headed towards the dawn light of the street.

She turned and watched him stride up the concrete ramp. He was doing his best not to limp, not to look like the broken man she knew he was. She held her fingers to her cheek. She could still feel the press of his lips, the scratch of his chin and the warmth of his breath against her skin.

It was a lousy goodbye, so quick, so impersonal after all they’d been through, but it was all she got—it was more than she deserved.

His silhouette went abruptly from view as he turned the corner. She tugged at her bottom lip and made for the elevator, stabbed number thirteen with her fingernail and cracked it way down low. It stung instantly. She swore and clasped it in her opposite fist.

She stepped in and looked at her face in the smoky mirror doors and recalled how he’d just looked at her. It was a look full of disappointment. She’d been a tool to retrieve his diamonds, and she’d turned out, as far as he thought, to be useless. Failed to do her job; failed to live up to his expectations.

But what did it matter? Relying on another person’s opinion to feel good about herself was never going to work. She was independent; she could fulfill her own needs. She didn’t need John to do that.

I don’t need John full stop.

So why did his sudden absence feel like a gaping hole? An emptiness like falling out of an airplane without a parachute. Why did she feel like a planet knocked off orbit by a cataclysmic meteor strike?

She didn’t.

She was fine.

She had the diamonds.

She stepped onto level thirteen, ignored an elderly neighbour’s polite ‘good morning’ and barged through her front door. She resisted the urge to check the place out. She was done with her obsessive compulsive disorder. What good had it done her anyway? Instead, she walked straight into the bathroom and flicked on the shower. Sod John, she thought, hurt turning to anger. He’d been using her, but she’d used him too.

She walked into her bedroom and peeled off her leathers. Dropped her tattered dress and ripped bra on the floor. She was desperate to feel the hot jets of water pummelling her tired, aching body. Flaked with semen and alive with John’s scent, she needed to wash him away, forget that he’d ever managed to crack her shell and make her feel alive.

She strutted naked down the corridor into the steamy bathroom. If John had managed to slide open the bolts protecting her heart, she’d just have to ram them back into place again. Make sure no one else ever got the chance to release them and make her vulnerable and weak.

She slammed the bathroom door and flicked the lock.

 

* * * *

 

John dodged early morning commuters as he headed to the front entrance of Kat’s building. He strode through the lobby. “Morning,” he called to the sleepy security officer, waving a cheery hand in the air.

“Mornin,” the man called back with a relaxed smile. “Gonna be another nice day out there.”

“Yep, the sun’s feeling warm already,” John said lightly as he called the elevator.

It had to come down from level thirteen to collect him.

He stepped in, grateful not to be using the stairs. Sharp spikes of pain were nipping the bones in his knee like an annoying terrier snapping. The lift pinged shut, and he couldn’t help but stare at his reflection in the dark mirrors.

He looked rough. He didn’t take much notice of his appearance on a day-to-day basis, but today, he certainly looked like he’d been up all night.

He peered closer. It was something more than tiredness. His shoulders had sagged and tipped sideways because of his nagging knee. His eyes were dull, barely open, and they had no life in their depths.

No fighting spirit left.

John realized—for the first time ever—he looked truly wounded. Like he’d been shot all over again, but this time couldn’t drag himself up from the dirt. He’d come to live with the pain in his leg, but this pain was different. These wounds were different. Just when he thought he was healing he was right back at square one, no, make that minus one.

And it was all Kat’s fault. She’d done this. Somehow, she’d made him feel good, like there was someone worth living for. How she’d managed in such a short space of time he had no idea. But she’d touched a place deep within him, and now, just as quickly as that feeling had arrived and settled itself in his chest, she’d snatched it away. She’d shot him down as devastatingly as the Taliban son of a bitch had two years ago.

He should be thrilled their parasitic relationship was over. She was a thief and a liar. He’d been a fool to trust her, and predictably, she’d stabbed him in the back.

He snatched his gaze from his reflection. He’d never had any intention of giving her half the jewels. All along, he’d planned on taking the vast majority for himself. They were his. He’d stolen them. They were for his sweet future.

The lift opened, and he stepped out, glanced at his watch. She’d been in her apartment ten minutes. Her routines were fairly predictable, and he reckoned she’d be in the shower. He slid the lock with his knife and opened the door like he had before. He really should’ve sorted the security out for her so creeps couldn’t sneak into her apartment without her knowing.

He listened.

Yep, the shower was running.

He headed for the kitchen, reached into the cupboard and grabbed a handful of rice. Then he limped into her bedroom and scanned around for her biker jacket. He spotted it hurled on the bed along with her trousers, dress and black lace underwear.

He pulled out the small velvet bag he’d witnessed her poking into the inside pocket. It felt wonderfully heavy in his palm, and a slow, wide smile spread across his face. He emptied the diamonds onto the duvet and they caught the morning sunlight, sparkling as if in greeting. But he didn’t have time for admiration. He cupped his fist and poured the rice neatly into the bag and, when it was sufficiently heavy, pulled the drawstring tight and returned it to Kat’s jacket pocket. He arranged the jacket casually and bent to scoop up every one of his precious stones. After dropping them into his own jacket pocket, he pulled the zip tight.

The pipes clanked, signalling the shower turning off.

John took a backward step into the hallway, stumbling over her discarded biker boots. He cursed as his knee twisted, and he heard the bathroom door pull open. Quickly, he slid into the living room out of view.

Kat passed a metre from him—a soft, padding sound as her small feet skimmed the deep pile of the carpet. A second later, the heavenly scents she’d used in the bathroom wafted around him. They filled his nostrils with memories of her delicate body writhing under his. Her velvet hair brushing his face when she sat astride him and the sweet taste of her mouth, her breasts and her pussy when she was open and hungry for him.

What harm would one last time do?

A well of need opened up in him and his cock stiffened in anticipation. One last time, just for the road, seemed like a very good idea indeed.

 

* * * *

 

Kat bent double and rubbed her hair vigorously with a towel. Her naked behind was slick with body moisturiser and her breasts swung in the stooped position. She felt cleansed of the night’s activities, but something still didn’t feel right. She hoped a few hours sleep would rid the dull ache from her chest. It was probably nothing more than tiredness making her feel so hollow—nothing more than tiredness, and the fact that soon she’d have to pack and get out of her apartment.

Satisfied her hair was sufficiently dry, she twisted the towel into a rough knot, balanced it on her head again and turned to hunt out fresh underwear.

Her heart faltered. Her breath caught.

John.

He stood in her bedroom doorway.

His left shoulder shoved against the frame, weight tipped onto his right leg and one hand shoved into his pocket. His leather jacket was undone, and the impressive bulge in his trousers told her he’d had a good eyeful as she’d bent over in front of him. The expression he wore was unusually dark and arrogant, even for him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, placing her hands on her naked hips and frowning. She made a point of not looking towards her jacket.

His freshly licked lips tipped into a smile “We deserved a much better goodbye.” His voice held that scraping quality she’d come to adore. It sounded as though it had started so low in his chest it was just an echo that grated through his larynx and scratched out of his mouth

Her nipples tingled and her pussy heated. “Why can’t you ever knock like a normal person?”

“You and me both know there’s not much that’s normal about either of us.”

Kat pulled the towel from her head, tossed it on the floor and reached for an enormous, metal bristled brush. “What did you have in mind?” She began to drag it through her long, tangled tendrils. “As a better goodbye?”

“A game.”

“A game?”

“Yeah, you want to play?”

“Depends on what I have to do.”

“Nothing except lie back, baby. Lie back and enjoy.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m gonna take a shower first.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged and carried on brushing knots from her hair.

He shucked out of his jacket and flung it on the floor. Dragging his T-shirt off in his usual manner, he disappeared down the corridor.

Kat waited for the sound of the door clicking shut, but it didn’t come. She glanced at her jacket. She needed to hide the diamonds someplace else. They were too close for comfort.

Reaching quickly into her pocket, she grabbed the tiny bag and pulled on her dressing gown. As she stepped out of her room, she could make out the uneven gush of water, the spray interrupted by his body as it splashed onto the shower tray.

She slipped out onto her balcony and grasped the trunk of the olive tree. Tipping it in its ceramic planter, she poked the black bag safely beneath it.

She made it back into the bedroom just as John switched off the shower. She grabbed her hairbrush and pretended she’d been battling snags the whole time.

“You’ve got too much on,” he said, appearing at her door with a towel wrapped around his lean waist and his hair glistening with droplets of water.

“So have you.” She grinned and, despite the nervous fluttering in her chest, she went to pull the towel from his waist.

He clasped his fingers around her arm and jerked her away. “Not so fast, Pussy Cat. My game, remember.”

Kat pouted. “So play then, soldier.”

It was like showing a red rag to a bull. The next thing she knew, she was flung onto the bed and he was over her, his weight pinning her down. He grabbed a green silk scarf from the bedside cabinet and wrapped it around her wrist before she could even blink.

“Hey…” she said.

“You said you wanted to play.”

“I do, but you could tell me what we’re going to play first.”

“That would spoil the fun.”
His mouth was on hers. His hands were deft, everywhere at once. He shucked off her dressing gown, and was looping the scarf around the slatted headboard and her other wrist as his tongue was busy, probing and invading.

She felt herself liquefy under his relentless passion. She would forget about the diamonds and give herself over to him this one last time. It would set her up for a lifetime of fantasies. She would make those memories, store them in a secret place and revisit them in the dead of the night when she was all alone.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing her.

She lifted her head from the pillow, chasing for a kiss, and opened her eyes to see where he’d gone. She was greeted with darkness; absolute pitch black, not even the slightest chink of light.

“What the…?” She yanked her arms but they were held securely to the headboard by their constraints. She twisted as if to look at her captive hands.

“It’s all good, remember,” he breathed quietly by her ear. “All good, trust me.”

She felt the bed lighten and the mattress even out. “Where are you going?”

No answer.

“John?”

Silence.

“John, you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be scared, Pussy Cat.”

Kat gasped as she felt something sharp and hard on her nipple. “What the hell’s that?”

“Just the hair brush…calm down.” He swirled it around, and she felt all the hard little points catch on her flesh. White dots flashed in her vision, and her areola became the centre of her world as he doubled the pressure. She tried to look, she wanted to see her body’s reaction to his game, but there wasn’t even the tiniest crack of light to be found through her blindfold, not even down at her nose.

Click. Whirr.

“What’s that noise?” she asked, twisting her head directly towards the new sound.

“Nothing.”

“Yes, it was. I heard something. John I want to know.” Confusion filtered through her veins. “What made that sound?”

“Will you stop twittering? You’re spoiling the game.” He pushed his mouth to hers, thrust his tongue between her teeth and played with the base of her tongue, silencing all further questions. She arched towards him, greedy for his taste. Greedy for him.

Click. Whirr.

“Whaa…” she mumbled through his deep, penetrating kiss.

“Shh,” he breathed into her mouth. “Go with it, trust me.”

He kissed her again, gentle and sweet, then nuzzled his way down to her breasts. Where the sharpness of the brush had scratched her skin, the warmth of his tongue soothed.

Kat curved into him, pushing concerns from her mind. He’d only ever done good stuff. She did trust him; she knew she did. For a fleeting second, though, she wondered if she’d done the right thing by taking the diamonds. But it was her only option. She had to look after herself. She was just glad he didn’t know, because she wasn’t sure what he’d do. She’d glimpsed his fury and his power, and she had no intention of getting on the receiving end of that; especially when bound and blindfolded and completely surrendered to his will.

“You like this?” he asked, rotating the bristles over her other nipple so they caught and scraped deliciously.

“Mmm,” she managed, feeling her hands tingle from lack of blood. She eased their position slightly, reduced the strain and concentrated once again on her nipple being sweetly tormented. “It feels sharp.”

“Sharp, you like sharp?” His voice was a velvety caress, a complete contrast to the exquisite discomfort she was experiencing.

“I like that feeling between pain and pleasure. I guess I shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“It’s not right, is it?” She moved her head to where she guessed his face was hovering over her chest.

“There’s nothing you can do about it—you like what you like.” He pressed the spikes harder onto her peaked areola. Using his hand to scoop the base of her breast upwards towards the firm attention of the brush he drew a giant swirl. “If anyone other than you on this earth had shoved their finger up my backside, I’d have broken their fucking neck.” He pressed the brush even harder and pulled it upwards towards her neck, scooping and dragging little waves of skin with it.

Kat caught her breath. The pricking sensation travelled so deep, so harsh, she knew her soft flesh would bear the tiny marks when she eventually looked. “S-so why didn’t you break my neck?” she stammered. She was sure he could easily break a person’s neck.

“Because for some crazy fucking reason, it got me off when you had me there.” The words came from between gritted teeth, like he didn’t enjoy uttering them, didn’t like admitting to his newly discovered, dark desire.

A sudden, fast flick of his fingers seared across the exposed tip of her nipple. A red-hot flame of pain, new and different, mean and tight. “Ow,” she cried out.

“What, you don’t like it now?”

Kat felt the pain bloom down to her clit. It trilled like a musical note and sent her hidden nub quivering with sexual excitement. “I…No, yes, I…”

She heard John’s amused huff. “Make your mind up, baby. I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No, it’s okay,”

“Good, now open your legs.”

Kat swallowed but it was more of a gulp. She had no idea what his next plan was. She was aware of him moving over her and sitting towards the base of the bed. She tipped her head back onto the pillows as she felt his big, determined hands pushing at her sensitive inner thighs, sending them higher and wider, brazenly exposing her intimate flesh. She was trapped, tied down. She could go nowhere.

The brush was back at work, rotating thorns grating over her abdomen, pulling and scratching. It reached her mound, and she bit down on her lip. The pressure was too heavy, it would hurt too much down there, all those mean little sticks on fragile tissue. “John,” she squeaked nervously, twisting at the scarf holding her to the headboard.

“It’s okay, baby. I know what you can take.”

She pulled in a breath and tried to still the tremble in her thighs. The brush scratched over the bare, plump lips of her pussy. But just as the jagged bristles were about to scrape over delicate skin, the pressure eased off, and it was just a soft, tugging sensation stroking at her outer lips.

She let out the breath but sucked it straight back in again as she felt his fingers on her. Gentle and sensual, he stroked and petted between her legs. He spread out her wetness and exposed the inner lips, teased her clit from its hiding place and danced down to the smooth sheath of skin between her entrance and her anus.

She felt like she was a wet mass of folds and flesh. Open to the elements and vulnerable, she could feel cool air in every nook and crevice. She was totally at his mercy. She loved it and wanted more. She wanted his fingers inside her, filling her. She wanted his mouth sucking her clit, swirling his tongue around her needy nerve endings. “John, please…I.”

“My game, remember,” he said, his voice oaked and husky. His touch left her.

She shifted her thighs back together and tried to get pressure on her clit by clamping her legs.

“No, stay perfectly still.” He tutted irritably, and his hands held onto her knees, forcing her wider and even more open. Two thick fingers pushed into her pussy and froze.

Click. Whirr.

He pulled out.

“What was…” She fell silent as something new hovered at the entrance of her vagina, thick and cold. “What’s that?”

“Nothing you haven’t had before, Pussy Cat.”


A familiar whirr filled the room. The vibrator. God, she loved her vibrator. It was so damn reliable. She tugged at her silken manacles, wishing she could free herself and touch John. She wanted to get her hands, her mouth, anything on him. His male scent permeated through his freshly showered smell. She inhaled deeply to remember it for future reference.

The vibrator pushed halfway in. It slipped through her channel easily, its way well lubricated. “Please,” she said when John kept the ears from touching her clit. “Please, let me come.”

Suddenly, a blinding light hit her retinas. John had peeled the blindfold up an inch, and as she focused she saw his head hovering right above her. He looked straight down at her.

“What do you prefer, wine or whisky?”

“What?” She blinked rapidly.

“Look at me. Answer the question, what do you prefer, wine or whisky?”

Kat caught his dark gaze. “Wine, you know I do, why?”

The blindfold tugged back down.

“All part of the game. We get three questions each, honest answers only.”

“But you know I…” Her sentence was cut off as the quivering ears of the vibrator surrounded her clit. She sensed him at the end of the bed again, his hand trailing lazily up her thigh and causing her to shudder with unbearable sensitivity.

“Think of your questions for me, baby, think real carefully.”

Kat couldn’t think of much. She was rocketing towards instant orgasm. The vibrator’s ears did it every time, and combined with the twirling inside her pussy, she knew it would only be seconds before the explosion.

She arched her back and flung her head to the side. The climax storing was itself up like an ocean about to burst through a damn. Her clit shuddered and pushed out for more, her insides wept their fluid around the rubber of the vibrator.

It all stopped.

The room went silent. The vibrator stayed deep but became perfectly still. She wailed in disappointment. “John…please…no, I was so close…”

The blindfold lifted again, bright light piercing her eyes. “Where are the diamonds?”

“What,” she squeaked. Her eyes flicked up to the left. “How would I know where the diamonds are, for God’s sake?”

The blindfold dropped back down. She felt it tighten further behind her head, ridding any streaks of penetrating light. Once more, she was immersed in her own world of deepest, darkest black.

“You gonna ask me a question?”

Kat pulled at her arms, rolled her wrists, but she was bound up so tightly she had no chance of freedom.

“Ask me anything. We’re playing a game, a game of honesty.”

“Okay.” She shifted her hips, hoping for the pleasure to resume, hoping maybe she could knock that switch. “What did Cobra One do? What was your role in the army?”

“Why do you want to know that?”

“Curious.” She wished he would just answer and turn his attentions back to the switches which were in an agonising off position.

“Special ops.”

“Explain.” Her voice was curt and impatient.

She felt his dense weight looming over her, his naked chest brushing against her taut nipples. “I could tell you…” he whispered by her cheek in a voice that flowed like treacle, “but then, I’d have to kill you.”

“You’re killing me anyway,” she huffed, refusing to let a spark of alarm ignite in her gut.

He chuckled deep in his throat. “SAS, Pussy Cat, I was SAS until I got shot to pieces.”

“Oh. I see.” That explained a lot, his swift, silent movements, his calm authority in the face of danger plus his total lack of social skills.

The vibrator didn’t start back up as she’d hoped after her question. Instead, he moved back between her legs and she guessed he was sitting with his legs folded beneath him. With a sudden upwards scoop, her buttocks landed on his tensed thighs. “Can I ask another question?” she said.

“Sure, baby.” He was rubbing his lubed finger over her perineum. She contracted around the vibrator to keep it in place as he tilted her pelvis farther forward and dragged her harder up towards his abdomen. His hard cock jutted against her inner thigh.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” she said, her shoulder joints pulling to the max with the new position.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

“Yes,”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Pussy Cat, I’ve killed in the line of duty. But only the bad guys, so you’re quite safe whilst you’re being a good girl.”

She trembled at what may lay beneath his words, but forced herself to beat down the adrenaline, the fear. He didn’t know anything about the diamonds, how could he?

His lubed finger slid over her anus, and her ring of muscle tightened. After a moment, it gave way to his persistent push, the way it had the day before, and she allowed him to slide in. A blaze of orange-red light shot across her eyelids. Dazzling and searing, it shot away all coherent thoughts about her predicament.

He added another finger and flexed them into a ‘v’ shape. She cried out at the nip of pain.

“Relax, it’ll be awesome, I promise.”

She bit on her bottom lip to keep from protesting and forced her ass to relax.

“That’s it, good girl, you can take my dick now.”

“Yes, now, and the vibrator, too. Switch it on.” Her voice was breathless and needy even to her own ears.

“You’re getting greedy, very greedy.” He pulled the vibrator out altogether, cupped her arse in his hands and shifted her so her anus was directly in line with his cock. He dragged her legs up to his shoulders and stretched out his left leg to the floor so it wouldn’t have to flex. “You can have all of it in a minute, my feline friend, as long as we finish the game.”

“Game?” Her mind had gone blank. “What game? I want the vibrator.” All she could focus on was the longing, the need and the off-the-scale pleasure that hovered only millimetres from her reach.

“You have to answer my last question.”

“Okay, okay, okay, what do you want to know now?” Her teeth ground together so hard she feared for their survival.

Once again, the darkness lifted. John’s rugged face hovered a few feet above hers. She could see her ankles touching his ears as she balanced upwards against his torso. Her breasts were battling gravity and losing, tipping downwards and bearing the tiny red scratches from the brush.

“I want to know…” he said, his voice sounding deeper, wilder and more dangerous than ever before, “if you want me to leave you?”

“No, God, no, don’t leave me like this, not until you’ve made me come. Please don’t walk out now, John.” She couldn’t bear it if he left her like this, even if there was something in his voice that set every instinct she had on full alert.

“That’s not what I meant.” The muscle in his jaw beat a wild dance. He nudged the burning hot tip of his penis against her asshole, pressed slowly, so, so slowly it extended the blissful torture of entry to the maximum. “I mean after this, after I’ve fucked you into senseless oblivion, do you still want me to leave, Pussy Cat?” His black eyes bored into hers, searching and exploring with an intensity that caught her breath.

Her eyes were moist, and she flicked them again to the left hand side of the ceiling. “You know I do, that was the deal. You have to leave.”

He said something unintelligible, then with a gentle push he sank all the way into her.

She moaned deep in her throat at the heated, wonderful spiral of pleasure. The blindfold wasn’t replaced, and she absorbed his suddenly soft expression gazing down at her. He stilled at the hilt. Something in his eyes had changed, thawed, calmed, she didn’t understand why.

Gently, he withdrew so the rim of his cock sat just inside her back passage. He held still and reached down for something at his side.

Kat tried to cant her hips to ease him back in but couldn’t travel even an inch. She was trussed up tight and the scarf had stretched thin. Suddenly, she saw what had been making the clicking and whirring noise.

In his hands, he held a camera, an old fashioned Polaroid which delivered the photo directly out of the base. He held it up to his face and tensed his thighs beneath her buttocks to keep her steady. He pressed the button.

Click. Whirr.

The small, square photo rolled out the slit instantly.

“Bloody hell,” Kat said. “You just took a photo of your cock in my arse.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“Is that my last question?”

Kat frowned. “No, it just would have been nice to be asked, that’s all.”

“People don’t always ask when they take things—you, of all people, should know that.”

He looked at her with an oddly indulgent smile. “Plus, it would have been a wasted question, because I’m taking photos because I can. There’s no real answer.” He wafted the photo in the air then laid it out of reach on the sheet with several others at different stages of development. “So what’s your last question for me, baby?”

“Are you ever going to fuck me, damn it?”

He chuckled. “Oh, yes, and that’s another wasted question. Think again.” He reached for the glistening black vibrator.

Kat managed to shift her hips the tiniest bit, and his dick slid into her arse a fraction farther. He caught his breath, and she saw beads of sweat balancing in the coils of his chest hair. He was having as hard a time holding back as she was; he was just pretending it was easy for him. She needed to quickly think of a question. What had he asked her? Something about staying.

“Do you want to leave here…me? Do you want to leave me?”

His eyes flashed and held hers steadily. His fingers worked to slip the vibrator into her wet folds. “I don’t want to go anywhere,” he said quietly. “I like it right here, with you.” He lifted off the bed and plunged his cock into her arse at the same time as he flicked on the vibrator and slid it into her pussy. The blissful ears caught onto her clit, his hands expertly leading them to the right place for maximum stimulation.

Kat could barely register what he’d said about wanting to stay. Her brain had dissolved into a pile of mush, her thoughts scattered.

He began to fuck her, his cock and the vibrator thrusting as one.

She couldn’t move and was totally at his mercy. He had ultimate control over pace and depth. Her entire body shook, quivered and convulsed, and she hadn’t even reached orgasm yet.

She’d felt full to capacity with just his penis in her rear, but having the big black vibrator pounding and circling in her pussy was simply too much, overload. The erotic sensation was heady. She was lost to it, consumed by it. Currents of fire scorched her body like bolts of lightning, whipping and slashing.

“Fuck, I can feel the damn vibrator on my dick.” John grunted as he reached to cup her breasts. “It’s massaging and rubbing me through your thin wall. Those beads are fucking wicked.”

She fisted the straining scarf and forced herself to look up at his face. He’d taken photos but she’d have to rely on memory.

His broad chest was high above her, damp and flexed, his neck tendons were strained like ropes holding an anchor in a storm, his jaw was clenched and his stubble a deep black shadow. The sensual mouth she’d come to know so well was half open in a slack, awed pose. And his eyes, his endlessly deep eyes, were looking at her with such tenderness that it threw her over the edge.

She could hold back no more.

“Come, baby,” John grunted. “I want to watch you explode around me.”

His words sent her into freefall, and she allowed the glorious abyss to claim her. She shut her eyes as her body was dragged into a hundred different directions. Splashes of colour tormented her vision, and her fingernails dug deep into her own flesh.

He shoved in harder and faster, increasing his ride to a gallop. She revelled in it. The wonderful pressure just kept building, she thought she’d reached the top, but it was there, more and more for the taking. She bucked and writhed as much as her position would allow. She couldn’t even pull in a breath for the pace at which he was hammering, spiralling her to an ecstasy so magnificent she would have sobbed if she could have found the energy.

He released her breasts and curled his fingers around her hipbones, pounding her more forcefully than ever before. The sensation was now a whole new bloom of cascading gratification. She had never felt so complete, so in tune with what she needed.

“God, you fit so well around me…” John groaned as his dick swelled inside her. “But I want to come in your pussy, I want to come around those sweet, hot girly muscles that beg for me, that crave me, that want me to stay.”

Kat flung her head to the side, her muscles contracting and releasing every object invading her.

The vibrator switched off.

Silence except for the hungry panting of two sets of lungs.

He pulled the toy out, dropped her legs from his shoulders and moved swiftly off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Kat whimpered, still in a state of ecstasy.

She sensed him leave the room.

“John,” she cried desperately. Surely he wasn’t leaving her now.

She strained her ears and heard water running in the bathroom.

Then he was back, the scent of soap mixed with the scent of their sex.

Kat sighed as he settled between her legs into missionary and slipped his damp cock into her vagina like the perfect jigsaw puzzle, thick and hot, so much better than the artificialness of the vibrator. His hard body landed on her still pulsating clit, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him deeper.

 “Hang on, baby, let me untie you.”

His full weight crushed her for several seconds. She barely had enough oxygen circulating anyway, and it sent those crazy ants racing through her brain, delighting in her hypoxia.

He loosened the fraught knots, then carefully lifted her arms over her head.

 “Shit,” he said, quickly pushing onto his elbows. “Breathe, will you, Pussy Cat? You’re using your lives up too damn quick this week.”

She pulled in a breath and looked at him, eyes dazed and glassy. “John,” she groaned. “I think I’ve got stuck on a permanent orgasm.” Her pelvic muscles were still shuddered, seizing John’s cock, carrying on of their own accord, relentless, in another world, another level of space and time.

“It sure feels like it,” he moaned into her open mouth.

Then he kissed her softly and sweetly. He licked her teeth, the tip of her tongue and the inside of her lips. And while he invaded her mouth, his rich, hot semen poured into her, wave after wave, flowing straight into her womb and swept up all the more efficiently by her sublimely powerful, extended orgasm.

Gradually, her convulsions stopped, the pressure eased, and they became small judders, the gaps between each one lengthening from micro seconds to whole seconds to several seconds.

John murmured something in a foreign language.

Eventually, he slipped out of her, rolled to his side and cradled her against his hot chest. She tucked her head under his chin and another string of foreign words spilled over her. She didn’t know what he was saying in his post-coital moment of bliss, but it sure sounded like it was coming from the heart, and it poured straight into hers.