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“No, no,” Jaine babbled, and Sam promptly made a liar out of her by sliding out his fingers and replacing them with a hard thrust of his full-grown morning erection. She bit her lip, but a strangled sound escaped anyway.
“I can see I’m wasting my time talking to you now,” Shelley said. “I’ll call again when you aren’t occupied. How long does it usually take him? Five minutes? Ten?”
Now she wanted an appointment. Since biting her lip hadn’t worked, Jaine tried biting the pillow. De
sperately reaching for a moment of control, just a moment, she managed to say, “A couple of hours.”
“Two hours!” Shelley was shrieking again. She paused. “Does he have any brothers?”
“F-four.”
“Man!” There was another pause as Shelley evidently weighed the advantages and disadvantages of dumping Al in favor of a Donovan. She finally sighed. “I’m going to have to rethink my strategy. You’d probably let BooBoo tear my house down, brick by brick, before you’d do anything to upset that particular applecart, wouldn’t you?”
“You got it,” Jaine agreed, her eyes closing. Sam shifted position, getting to his knees and straddling her right leg, with her left one hooked over his arm. Forking her that way, his penetration was deep and straight in, and his left thigh rubbed right where it did the most good. She had to bite the pillow again.
“Okay, I’ll let you go.” Shelley sounded defeated. “I tried.”
“Bye,” Jaine said thickly, and fumbled to return the phone to its hook, but couldn’t quite reach it. Sam leaned forward to do the honors, and the movement pushed him so deeply inside her that she shrieked and climaxed.
When she could speak, she pushed her hair out of her face and said, “You’re evil.” She was panting and weak, unable to do anything except lie there.
“No, babe, I’m good,” he countered, and proved it.
When he was lying beside her, sweaty and limp, he said sleepily, “I gather we almost got BooBoo back.”
“Yeah, and you weren’t helping matters,” she grumbled. “She knew what you were doing, too. I’ll probably never live this down.”
The phone rang again. Jaine said, “If it’s Shelley, I’m not here.”
“Like she’ll believe that,” he said as he groped for the receiver.
“I don’t care what she believes, as long as I don’t have to talk to her right now.”
“Hello,” he said. “Yeah, she’s here.”
He extended the phone, and she took it, glaring at him. He mouthed, “Cheryl,” and she sighed with relief.
“Hi, Cheryl.”
“Hi. Listen, I’ve been trying to call Luna. I have some photos of Marci that she wanted to have copied, and I wanted her address to mail them to her. I was just there yesterday, but who pays attention to street signs and numbers? Anyway, she isn’t answering her phone, so do you have the address?”
Jaine sat upright, a chill roughening her bare skin. “She isn’t answering? How long have you been trying to call?”
“Since eight, I guess. About three hours.” Cheryl suddenly got it, and said, “Oh, God.”
Sam was out of bed, pulling on his pants. “Who?” he asked sharply, and turned on his cell phone.
“Luna,” Jaine answered, her throat tight. “Listen, Cheryl, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe she went to church, or out to breakfast with Shamal. Maybe she’s with him. I’ll check and have her call you when I find her. Okay?”
Sam punched out numbers on the cell phone as he pulled a clean shirt out of the closet and shrugged into it. Carrying his socks and shoes, he left the bedroom, talking so quietly into the little phone she couldn’t hear what he was saying.
To Cheryl she said, “Sam’s calling some people. He’ll find her.” She hung up without saying goodbye, then vaulted out of bed and began fumbling for her own clothes. She was shaking, the tremors growing worse by the second. Just a few minutes ago she had been so blissed out, and now this awful terror was making her sick; the contrast was almost paralyzing.
She stumbled into the living room, fastening her jeans, as Sam was going out the door. He was wearing his pistol and his badge. “Wait!” she cried, panicked.
“No.” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “You can’t go.”
“Yes I can.” Wildly she looked around for her shoes. They were in the bedroom, damn it. “Wait for me!”
