Carol (Carol Schmidt Series) (12 page)

“So,” he said, handing her one. “Here’s to you!”

They touched glasses and tasted the wine, which was light and
florid, and perfectly cool, not freezing. This guy knew how to treat his
Pinot
Grigio
, which was a good sign.

There was just a hint of expectation in his tone, though. They both
knew that they weren’t here to taste wine. There was business to attend to, and
he was not going to let that slip his mind, however attractive she looked tonight.

And she did look attractive. The same short black skirt, but now a
low-cut T-shirt was hugging her breasts, which sat there appealingly but not
too provocatively, as he did his level best to avoid looking at them.

“I have,” she said, “a problem. And it’s here.”

In her hand was a small attaché case. She had been holding it the
whole time, and he had studiously avoided looking at it, as if that had been
the polite thing to do. What with her cleavage and the case, it had been a
challenge for him to find anywhere at all for his eyes to settle.

“That,” he said, “looks like a problem just waiting for a solution.”

“Well, it’s a problem that I don’t quite know how to resolve.”

With that she sat on the edge of the nearest leather armchair and
clicked open the case. In it, not surprisingly, was money. Neat, new bills, the
bundles lined up neatly.

“One hundred fifty thousand dollars, which I need to deal with.”

Deal with
. He still wasn’t sure about
the money part. But the rest of the package, bursting to get out of that black T-shirt,
was drawing him in.

“Deal with, how?”

They had not discussed the details in his office. She said she
needed to be sure, see him on his own territory, so to speak. It was the way
she liked to do things, good and personal, old fashioned.

“I know you have done money transfers out of the country before.
Legal, of course. I need this cash taken out of the US.”

“Where to?”

She sighed. “I have family in Latin America. You can tell?” she
said, gesturing to her dark eyes, her slightly dusky skin. “My dad was
Argentine.”

“So you want your money in Argentina?”

She shook her head. “Central America. I’ve been told it’s a good
stop-off point for money.”

He nodded. “Sure can be.”

“Panama, somewhere like that,” she said. “I’ve looked it up on the Internet,
read about it. I’m getting out of here, leaving the country. I just want the
cash somewhere I can pick it up after I’m gone.”

“But this needs to be legal, I mean, if I’m involved.”

“Oh, wow, yes. I mean, of course. Completely. All I want is your advice.”

He thought for a second.

“Are you hungry? Dinner’s about ready.”

The moussaka was outstanding, and Carol has tasted the real stuff in
Greece on numerous occasions. Following the entree was a mango sorbet with a
raspberry sauce so light and piquant that it made her heady with delight. A man
who could cook like this deserved the very best she had to offer. And that’s
what he was going to get, if she could orchestrate this properly. First,
though, was the matter of the money.

By the time he served coffee, the contents of the attaché case had
still not been mentioned again. Instead they’d talked about travel and music,
about sports and politics, all of which he seemed to be knowledgeable about,
yet not overbearing.

Had he flirted? Not really. His stare across the dinner table had
been serious and concentrated, as if he was taking her in, her opinions, her
observations, everything. He was, quite simply, the perfect host. Which was a
shame, because he was also a conman who had cheated lonely widows out of more
than two million dollars.

With coffee over, there was a pause. He wanted her, badly. And as
for a hundred fifty thousand bucks, he didn’t really need the hassle. Fifteen,
even thirty grand in commission? He’d gladly have paid that to sleep with her
tonight. Money from unknown, unregistered sources was not his game. But he
couldn’t let her go. That much was obvious.

“OK,” she said, rising from the table. “I have to be leaving. Thank
you for a wonderful evening, Jerry. Really, thank you.”

She let him hang there, unprepared for this.

“Can I,” she added, “can I leave the case with you?”

“
Leave
it here?” he asked, taken aback, the request jerking
him out of his confusion. Should he be making a move on her right now? Feeling
those lips against his, and that body too? He had to have her, whatever it
took. She was amazing. But now she was leaving...

“Like I said,” she told him, smiling sweetly, “I do business the old-fashioned
way. I came here tonight to see if I could trust you.” She moved over to him
and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I know I can.”

He felt her hand take his.

“W-what shall I do with it?” he asked.

Leaning into him, she whispered in his ear: “Put it in the bank! I
don’t want it in my hotel room.”

“Hotel?” he said, pulling a frown. “I thought you lived in...”

“Until today I did,” she said. “The sale of the house was finalized
this morning. As of now I have nowhere to go. Two, three days and I’m leaving
for good. South America here I come!”

He dithered. She liked that. The whole
you can stay here
line
would have been too forward, not classy. In any case, even with a window of
just a few days he’d get everything he wanted. She would guarantee that, now
she’d seen him in his natural habitat. She would enjoy a couple of days with
Jerry Hobbs, no problem.

“Jerry,” she said, moving around and kissing him square on the lips,
“let me trust you. I want to, really I do. Please help me make these last few
days the best ever. I’ll ring you tomorrow.”

With that she was gone.

Jerry Hobbs spent a long and very sweaty night dreaming of Mrs.
Carol Denvers, and wondering what the hell he was going to do with her money.

It was a little
less balmy the following evening when he opened to the door to find a slightly
wind-swept Carol standing there.

“Hi,” he said, trying not to seem like a puppy that’d been waiting
all day for its owner to come home.

He almost managed it too, she told herself as she kissed him on the
lips, just a touch longer than necessary, and moved into the hall.

“Bad day?” he asked, taking her coat and inhaling the alluring smell
of her, something fresh and soft, like summer fruit.

“Last bits of business,” she said. “Shipping my stuff off. Just a
big pain in the ass.”

“Where to?”

“Like I said,” she answered, running her fingers through her hair
and looking as if she was in desperate need of a drink, “Panama. A distant
cousin of mine works in Panama City. I’ll be storing my stuff there for a few
weeks, ’til I find my feet.”

“Wow, you work fast.”

“Not really. I’ve been planning the move for a while. It just kind
of crept up on me.”

“You were going to move with your husband? To Panama?”

She looked temporarily confused. “With him? Oh, God, no. We’ve been
separated seven years. Kept on good terms, though.”

“Well, at least he left you a little something. Talking of which...”

She squeezed her eyes closed. “Let’s talk about something else,
shall we? I’m frazzled.”

He led her into the living room and sat her down, immediately plying
her with a glass of white wine that he had chilling in a bucket.

She took a long drink, sighed, drank some more. It was even better
than yesterday’s wine, fuller-bodied, smoother. He kept touching the bottle,
eyeing the label, as if he was excited by it. Perhaps the wine was his best
stuff, something that he wouldn’t have opened just for anyone, a special bottle
for a special evening. She didn’t bother to ask what it was. If he was toasting
his own good fortune in advance, that was fine by her.

“Here’s to a lovely evening!” she said, grinning up at him as they
both drank. “And, here’s to you, for agreeing to help me at such short notice.
But now,” she added, placing her glass down on the coffee table right in front
of her, “after I have taken advantage of your generosity so completely, I have
yet another favor to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“I had absolutely no qualms about leaving that case of money with
you yesterday. Could I trust you with my clothes as well?”

Was it a come on? It sounded odd, a bit out of character, not quite
fitting for the situation.

A cute smile crept onto her mouth. “I really need a shower. Would it
be so forward to ask if I can use your shower room?”

A moment’s pause. Then he laughed, nervously, trying to make it into
a joke, something between old friends, as if she hardly had to ask to use the
shower at all.

“Top of the stairs on the left. There are fresh towels in there,” he
added.

She stood up and embraced him gently, cupping the back of his head
with her hands.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she said, kissing him on the lips again, and
letting her mouth open slightly this time, until their tongues flicked each
other fleetingly.

As she began to pull away he gripped her waist tight with both hands
and kissed her harder, his fingers digging into the top of her buttocks, firmly
but not too firmly.

There they remained, both of them loving it, that first surrender to
what they both knew was inevitable, the headiest, sweetest kiss of all. In
Jerry’s case, there was also an element of hope; he was still unsure what he
was going to get tonight. For Carol there was no doubt. There never was with
her.

She headed toward the shower without another word.

The water gushed over her shoulders and down her back, the power jet
doing a great job of exciting every muscle in her body until she was alive with
anticipation. It wasn’t just that she was horny for him, or that the wine was
now getting into her system, it was the fact that she was in charge. God, she
loved her job sometimes. Seductress? You could hardly put that on your CV. But
that’s what she was, and at times like this, when she would gladly have screwed
the guy anyway, it seemed like she had won the lottery. The expression
win-win
had never been more appropriate.

She soaped her ass, let her hands run around the perfectly round
cheeks and up between her legs. The bathroom door had been left slightly ajar,
and she’d left the glass shower door fully open. Now she turned and let the
water cascade down her front, closing her eyes, knowing that at any moment he’d
be there at the door watching. When he did finally approach, she knew, he would
be unable to resist touching her butt, and she wanted there to be a little soap
there for him to work with. She stood still, the steam rising around her, her
tits flushed hot, the nipples big and relaxed as the powerful jets of hot water
washed over them.

Sure enough, a moment later he was there, watching. She could see
his reflection in the chrome of the faucet fittings. He was still in his
clothes. Let him take the lead, she told herself. She turned her head a
fraction, just so he knew that she had sensed his presence. Then she waited.

A hand brushed the small of her back. She tried not to overreact,
but her back arched a little, such was the sudden electricity in his
fingertips. For a while he didn’t move them, then he pressed a little harder as
one finger began moving slowly up and down, not more than an inch or two, but
enough for her to know that she wanted this man to touch her all over.

The movements became unsteady as, with one hand free, he deftly
removed his clothes. A moment later he was right behind her, naked.

“You found the shower, then?” he asked, both hands now on her ass,
then running round her hips and up her flat belly until they found her breasts.

She shuddered, letting her head roll back until it rested on his
shoulder. He cupped her breasts in his hands and caressed her ear with his
mouth. The water was gloriously hot, and they stood there, not saying a word.
It was perfect, and they said nothing. That’s what she liked most about this
guy, his silence, that he wasn’t telling her how much he wanted her. She knew
exactly how much he wanted her, every man she had ever known had wanted her.
But this one had the sense not to tell her.

As they stood there, Carol smiled at the thought of the Cardinal,
who she knew would now be waiting for her in a hotel several miles away. They
were a great team, and there was a very good reason for that: the Cardinal knew
that he should only ever ask her to seduce the kind of men that genuinely
turned her on. It was an understanding they’d reached over the years, and it
had served them both well.

This policy had one advantage in particular. Every man she seduced
immediately sensed that she wanted them. Her desire was impossible to hide,
because it was real. Whatever she said or did, an encounter with Carol Schmidt
(or Denvers, or Smith...) was as about as special and awe-inspiring as a man
could wish for, because it was the real deal. Until, of course, it was over. Then
it was a different matter.

So now, with his body pushing into hers and her nipples hardening
beneath his fingers, she gurgled with pleasure, tilted her head upward, and let
the hot water crash into her grinning face.

Before long his stiffened cock was sliding up between her butt
cheeks, which were still slippery with soap. She could feel the top of his
penis pressed firmly into the small of her back. She began to move her hips,
gently at first, and he pushed his crotch harder against her, until her
buttocks were massaging him. He was rock hard, moaning quietly to himself,
letting her ass do the work, and knowing that his cock had never felt this
good.

She closed her eyes, loving the play of his fingers on her nipples,
and the hot water on her as he jerked more and more urgently against her from
behind. Spreading her legs slightly, she reached down between her legs and took
his balls in her hand. It was enough to send him mad; she felt his mouth clamp
tight against her shoulder, sucking the flesh, as if he was powerless, just
waiting there for her to bring him off, all thoughts of fucking her having
vanished from his mind; this was enough.

She lurched forward, letting him ride her ass crack, his cock pointing
upward, its hot end digging into her back harder and harder. The water now ran
down her back and onto his penis, which went faster and faster, sliding up and
down between her buttocks, his balls tight in her hand. His whole body was
quivering, and they both knew he was on the verge. Yet they carried on, neither
of them wanting it to end.

His strokes got quicker, and his teeth bit her shoulder, not hard,
more as if he was hanging on with his mouth, the rest of his body out of
control. His hands were eagerly pawing at her tits, pulling hard on the
nipples, then running against his palms. She could feel the taught, rubbery
ends of each nipple rub and bobble against his skin, faster and faster as he
brought himself to climax.

When he came, he howled like a wolf. With short little jerks his
cock jabbed up into her back, hot come running down the shaft and between her
butt cheeks, then mixing with the water from the shower, which was all over
them now. His scrotum tightened, but she held onto it, using the tips of her
fingers to dig into the root of his cock as it exploded.

They remained there, his penis still moving against her butt, but
more slowly now, until she felt the rigidity fade away. He was hanging onto
her, as if he might fall. With one last gentle squeeze of his balls she turned,
gathered him in her arms, and kissed him hard on the lips, forcing her tongue
way inside his mouth and keeping it there. He was gasping for air, but
desperately kissing her back, their tongues like a couple of alligators
wrestling, so eager that they were hurting each other.

“That,” she said, having drawn her mouth away, so that they could
both take a breath, “was for everything you’ve done for me.”

She sent a hand down over his stomach and took his soft penis in her
hand. She ran it between her fingers, drawing back the slippery foreskin and
digging her nails carefully into the glans until he spasmed, eyes closed,
biting his lip. “I want you to fuck me, Jerry,” she told him, very plainly, no
theatricals. “And I want to do things to you. Tonight. I need you.”

As she spoke, she pushed her hand down beneath his legs and gripped
one of his buttocks hard. Then she moved her hand right into the cleft and ran
her fingers up over his butt hole, pausing just a second and feeling the tight
little ring retract, then up until his balls and cock were sitting beneath her
hand. He was already getting hard again, not a hundred percent, but enough to
play with.

Suddenly he was kissing her, his hands up and down her back,
grabbing her butt and fingering the soft flesh. Their faces were taking the
full force of the shower’s jet, their hair plastered to their heads; but they
hardly noticed, kissing like eager teenagers, teeth crashing into each other,
and their hands all over.

He was in heaven. And she, perhaps even more than usual, had
forgotten that this was work.

*

“So,” she said, curled up next to him on a king-sized bed, both of
them in large, white toweling robes, “I came to you because I needed some help
with the money. And it turns out I don’t care about the money, all I care about
this.”

It was not clear what “this” meant, but as she kissed him she took
his hand and guided it down to her sex, which was still moist from the shower,
her neat little pad of dark pubes hot and soft to the touch.

He tried to keep it slow, letting his fingers caress the outer
ridges of her pussy, but he was having a hard time stopping himself from sliding
them all the way inside her. She sensed his dilemma.

Straddling him, she grabbed both his hands, pinning them with hers
to the pillow on either side of his head.

“Will you?” she said, shuffling up his torso, letting him feel the
wetness of her sex on his belly, until she was sitting astride his chest, her
legs wide apart. “Please.”

She leant over him, letting her crotch hang in the air just in front
of his mouth.

He closed his eyes as she lowered herself down onto him. He let her
move her sex against his lips, toying with him, letting him have only the
briefest taste before she pulled it away. It was nice, but it didn’t last.

A second later he struggled to free his hands and grabbed her ass
cheeks so tight she thought his fingers were going to bruise the flesh. With
all his strength he pulled her onto him, his mouth open wide, as if he was
screaming.

But it wasn’t a scream. Immediately he was devouring her as if he
hadn’t eaten for a week, pulling her apart until her cheeks felt like they were
going to split. He had her clit between his lips, flicking it fast with his
tongue, making her buck with pleasure, but his hold on her ass so secure that
she had no chance of writhing; she was held there about as firmly as anyone had
ever held her, and he was slurping and lapping at her juices with a delight
that she had rarely experienced before.