Page 41 of Intoxicating Pursuit

Intruder

THE ENABLER

S ometimes, Oscar had the best job on the planet. He had staked out a perch on Sammy's front porch swing, where he could keep an eye on the street and smoke as much as he liked. . . maybe even browse a little porn. Practically a fucking vacation.

Sunset always brought out the mosquitoes, though.

When he felt the first bite, he considered retreating indoors.

The motion-sensitive cameras he’d mounted along the fence line monitored things better than he could anyway, once it got dark.

He toggled through the cameras on his smart watch and took comfort. Everything was working as it should.

A car pulled up across the street and parked. No one moved for a minute. Then Claudia emerged from the driver’s-side door and made a beeline for the carriage house.

Oscar stubbed out his cigarette and scrambled down the porch stairs in a flash. “Freeze, Claudia. Not another inch.” He unholstered his Sig P220, holding it discreetly at his side. An ornamental cherry tree sheltered him from the neighbors’ view, but he’d still prefer not to flash the gun around.

Claudia paused, then simply changed course, approaching Oscar instead.

“Claudia, get your hands where I can see them. I’m not fucking around.”

“Relax, Oscar, I’m harmless.” She lifted her tiny hands up subtly, just to the height of her ribs, and continued walking toward him.

“You need to leave.”

“Oh, come on. When’s the last time I could get near you without Gabe’s people shooing me away.” She took a few steps closer. “I just thought maybe you were tired of all the phone sex and might like to enjoy me in person again.”

His heart picked up pace. Even in the dimming twilight, she was spectacularly beautiful.

Her face was all slender, symmetrical angles, and her blonde hair fell like silk down her shoulders.

Her wide-legged linen pants cinched snugly at her waist. If he tugged the drawstring, he imagined they would fall right off.

She clearly wore no bra beneath her camisole. In his mind, she was already naked.

He tore his gaze away from her nipples. “Get lost, Claudia.”

“Oscar, I’m not armed. I’m just here for fun.” She eased toward him. “Why don’t you frisk me? See for yourself, so you can chill out.”

He tried to control his breathing but was failing. He knew what lay inside those pants was tight as a fist.

She drew close and placed her hands on his chest. “Go ahead, Oscar. Check me for weapons. I want to see what happens when you do it.” She dragged her fingernails toward his waistband, then slid her hand in his pants, gripping him gently. “Come on. Show me what happens.”

The cherry tree obscured the neighbors’ view, but Kate was home. He really should chase her away.

She started to rub her hand in mesmerizing circles. “I know what you need, Oscar,” she breathed. “No one should keep you from what you need.”

His brain lost focus.

Using his free hand, he felt around Claudia’s waistband and stroked the firm curves of her ass.

No weapons there . He patted her pockets—nothing but a lighter.

He needed to check her ankles too. She could have anything concealed in those baggy pants.

He tucked the Sig into his waist holster and bent to stroke both hands down her toned legs.

She lunged for the gun.

“Goddamnit, Claudia!” He grabbed her tiny wrist in his giant paw. “What the hell?”

“I’m just playing Oscar. Relax.” She laughed at him. “Seriously, you should see your face.”

He finished feeling up her legs. He could see goosebumps through her top. Nothing could hide there. She was unarmed.

He led her to the porch, peeked through the door to make sure Sammy’s mom wasn’t inside, then hustled Claudia up the old wooden stairs to the second floor.

On the landing outside Sammy’s bedroom, Claudia stripped off her cami, baring her round, plump breasts. The last of Oscar’s blood rushed from his brain to his groin. She pulled the drawstring on her pants, and they fluttered to the floor, just like he thought they might. She wore nothing else.

Oscar picked her up in a fireman’s hold, carried her into Sammy’s room, and barely made it to the bed.

***

A fterward, he lay beneath her, drowsy, his heart still pounding.

He glanced at the nightstand and saw his pistol.

From this position, Claudia could grab it before he could—if she wanted.

His wallet and phone sat on the opposite bedside table, and he began to realize just how stupid this was.

Slowly shifting his body, he moved from under her, picked up the pistol, and eased out of bed.

She propped herself up on her elbow. “You’re getting up?”

“You need to go, Claudia. This was fun, but you need to split.”

“Not yet.” She looked around curiously. “So, is this where she sleeps? Surprised she let you in here.”

“She didn’t. But I’m not sleeping on a fucking twin mattress.” He found his underwear and pulled them on. “And she didn’t let you in, either. Get dressed. You need to get gone.”

Claudia slipped out of bed and perused the simple white room, peeking in drawers and lifting up picture frames. “Ugh, could she be any more plain?”

Oscar crossed to the opposite bedside stand and tucked his wallet in the drawer. “Claudia, seriously, the old lady could come in any time. You’ve got to leave. I have a job to do.” He picked up his phone and checked the security cameras—no notifications.

Claudia opened Sammy’s closet door and stepped inside, rifling through the hangers.

“Come on. Get out of there, Claudia. You’re starting to piss me off.”

A moment later, she emerged. “Look, Oscar, the ugly girl has silk scarves. What do you think we should do with these?” She walked languidly to the bed and laid upside down on it, so her head was near the footboard.

She held a scarf in each hand and grabbed the posts.

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you tie me up?

I can’t do any harm then. Plus. . . I think I need some more attention. I’m not quite done yet.”

Oscar froze in place. Claudia needed to leave, but he couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t stop imagining all the things he could do with her bound up.

She released one of the scarves, licked her fingers, and stroked them down past her belly. “Well, I guess if you’re not going to help me, I’ll help myself.” She let her legs fall gently apart, revealing silky pink flesh.

Fuck.

All of a sudden, Oscar couldn't think of anything he’d rather do than tie her up. He walked to the foot board, grabbed the scarf, and lashed one of her wrists to the bedpost. Then he crossed to the other side of the bed, stilled her busy hand, and tied it up securely as well.

“Well, Oscar—” her pale blue eyes shone wickedly— “I guess you can do whatever you want for as long as you want now. But try to finish me off this time. I shouldn’t have to do it myself.”

Oscar didn’t wait another moment. He tore off his underwear and did exactly that.

***

“ O scar?” Claudia wriggled beneath him. “Oscar, wake up. You're too heavy, and I need to pee. Get up.”

He could barely move. He was incredibly drowsy, like he’d been drugged. He reached up, loosened the scarves, and let her go. “Bathroom’s in the hallway,” he mumbled.

Darkness had settled over the room. The old, wooden bedroom door closed with a bang, and the bathroom door in the hallway clicked open and shut.

A hazy, seductive shroud of sleep weighed on Oscar, and he dozed in the margin between dreams and wakefulness, his nerves tingling with pleasure, his face buried in Sammy’s comforter.

The back door chimed.

Holy shit. Oscar bolted upright. Had he fallen asleep? What had he done?

Oscar leapt out of bed and yanked on his pants.

He zipped them carefully and fumbled around for his pistol before racing into the hallway.

The bathroom door was closed, and the light was on, but that didn’t mean anything.

Someone was clattering around in the kitchen, down in the room with the giant butcher’s knives.

If it was Claudia, he couldn’t risk it. He raced down the stairs shirtless, still reeking of sex.

Sammy’s mom was crouched on the kitchen floor, foraging through the cabinet under the sink. He didn't see anyone else. “You okay, ma’am?”

“Yup. Just out of dish soap.” She stood up and pivoted, taking in Oscar’s disheveled appearance.

He looked down at his scruffy, naked chest and realized what a mess he was. “Sorry, ma’am. I was napping and heard someone down here. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, of course.” She caught herself. “Well, I guess not of course . I do appreciate you checking in on me. Death threats. . . Can you believe it? What a crazy world.”

She looked him over more closely, tilting her head with concern. “Sure you’re okay? Looks like you’ve had a good spook. Why don’t I make us a pot of coffee.” She turned on the faucet and started to fill the carafe.

How could he get out of this? And where the hell was Claudia? “No thanks, Kate. Can’t sleep if I drink that stuff.”

“Oh.” She shut off the water.

“Why don’t I walk you back to your cottage? Make sure you’re good and settled for the night.”

“All right.” She dumped out the water, retrieved the detergent from the kitchen counter, and pinched his cheek. “You’re a gem, Oscar.”

Keeping his pistol low and out of sight, he followed her out the back door. He inspected the old carriage house but found no trace of anything amiss. He checked the window locks and took comfort everything was secure, for now.

“Good night, ma’am.” He locked the door on his way out, then took a few strides to Sammy’s back door, creeping cautiously into the kitchen.

***

C laudia couldn’t believe her luck. Could the old woman have better timing? With Oscar downstairs, she could finally poke around the room freely. She rifled through Sammy’s stuff and snatched a photograph or two, before deciding to leave something behind as well.