My punishment?
Chapter Twenty
Vanessa
“I’ve got whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and something called caramel body paint. You think that’s enough?”
I’d just pulled into the parking lot of my favorite supermarket and settled back with the key fob in one hand, my phone against my ear, listening and waiting. A long silence fell across the line, but I wasn’t deterred because I knew Emmett. At least I was starting to, and his silence meant he was interested.
A cough sounded, mixed with a laugh. “How many hours do you think I can last?”
I shrugged, a flirtatious smile on my face he couldn’t see. “It’s not about lasting Emmett. It’s about pleasure. Isn’t that what you told me when you tied me up and made me come until I passed out?”
His laugh was deep and outright sexy this time.
“Something like that, if I recall.” His voice grew deeper and thick with desire, a sure sign he more than recalled. “Caramel is my favorite. I can lick it all night.”
A shiver slipped down my spine and I squeezed my thigh muscles together to stop the ache throbbing between them. “Good to know. I’m more of a whipped cream girl myself.”
“Good to know,” he growled. “Hang on.”
Silence fell again, and I was relieved. As much as I loved the dirty talk and the innuendos, it wasn’t healthy to be aroused all the time. Was it?
“Sorry, Nessa got a problem I need to deal with. See you tonight?”
“Can’t wait.”
It was nice having something to look forward to other than work and wedding planning. Unlike the shelter, this was something just for me. Just for the sake of enjoyment.
“Me either, Vanessa. Bye for now.”
The way my name rolled of his tongue stayed with me as I exited the car and made my way inside the grocery store. Midday shopping was the best because the stores were mostly empty. Everything was freshly stocked, which let me take my time. And daydream about the way Emmett had taken me last night, rough and intense under the hot spray of the shower. Something had been on his mind, he’d admitted that much, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet so I distracted him with pleasure.
“Vanessa Decker?”
I froze at the sound of my name, so I slid my hand into my purse until I found the pepper spray before I turned.
I took a step back, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing above me. “Do I know you?” I asked, on my guard. The woman had bright red hair pulled into a low bun that highlighted her bright blue eyes and pale, freckled skin. She was small which made her appear young, but the white shirt and black pants and blazer said she was at least old enough to hold a job.
“Not yet.” Her blue eyes sized me up, but I resisted the urge to squirm because this woman’s gaze was nothing compared to the millionaires and billionaires who did the same before trusting me with their bets. Their winnings.
“But you will. Addison Beck,” she said with a bright smile and held her hand out.
The good midwestern girl in me almost accepted her hand but the cynical, experienced part of me resisted. The part that had just been attacked took another step back. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard about your attack and I’d like ask you some questions.” She wasn’t a reporter; I’d dealt with enough of them during Lance’s missions to know the difference.
“I’ve already given my statement to the police. Multiple times.” And they ordered me, explicitly, not to talk to anyone else about it. “If you need information, you should talk to them.”
Her gaze bored right through me, and I returned the favor. “You know Ms. Decker, you’re a smart woman. A beautiful woman with a good head on your shoulders, so you should be a bit more careful about the company you keep.”
There was a bite, an edge to her words, and I stood a little taller. “And what business is it of yours what company I keep, Ms. Beck?”
“Agent Beck, actually.” My hand tightened on the pepper spray when she reached behind her, producing a big shiny badge. “FBI.”
I nodded at the badge, keeping my expression neutral. I didn’t want to let this shady woman know she’d surprised me. “Why is the company I keep the business of the FBI?” I shook my head and reached for my shopping cart to have something bulky between us because there was something about this woman I didn’t trust. “Did you follow me here for a reason?”
She nodded and a few red tendrils loosened, enhancing the little girl quality I was sure she fought hard to squash.
“Yeah, to let you know the Ashby’s are bad news. They’re criminals in case you didn’t know.”
“They why aren’t they in jail?” Something about the fire in her eyes, the passion in her voice went beyond mere good guys versus bad guys. This confrontation was something else altogether. And I wanted no part of it.