Stealing Taffy

  “Oh, my, yes.” She sucked from the straw, harder this time. “See, right after my fiancé put my credit cards in the shredder, he went off and found a gun somewhere and decided it would be a good idea to take me hostage, along with my sister and my sister’s best friend. But when he busted in, a squirrel flew through the front door and attacked him, which gave me a chance to hit him with a tequila bottle. Thank goodness he fell and hit his head on the corner of the coffee table. Just then, the police came. My former fiancé is in jail now, did I mention that?”

  Dan shifted in his seat.

  “You know, my parents died when I was little, and after the whole kidnapping thing, it came out that they had been murdered by my fiancé’s evil dead father! Can you imagine how I felt when I realized I’d almost married the son of the man who killed my mama and daddy?”

  Dan’s brows knit together.

  “Oh, I am so sorry! I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

  “Uh, not really.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  Tanyalee heard herself sigh. “I do go on sometimes, believe it or not, but I have to say, you’re a very good listener.” She patted his hand with hers. And kept it there. He felt so warm and solid. Tanyalee brushed her thumb back and forth across the top of Dan’s very large hand, noting the lovely texture of muscle, tendon, skin, and a dusting of manly hair. Without warning, she pictured the landing strip of dark fur that probably ran down the center of his ripped abs, leading right to his …

  “Oh, my goodness!” Tanyalee sucked on her straw like she was trying to pull a nail from a coffin. “Enough about me. So, what do you do for a living, Dan?”

  Dan smiled, and Tanyalee thought maybe he started to chuckle but had stopped himself. “Nothing exciting. Not compared to what you’ve just told me.”

  Oh, well—so much for the Italian-prince fantasy. “That’s okay. I’m sure whatever you do is exciting in its own way.”

  “Yeah, well, I … I own some factories.”

  Tanyalee felt her mouth unhinge but couldn’t seem to hide her surprise. So why was this guy in the cheap seats? Maybe it was a last-minute booking. “Factories? What kind of factories?”

  Dan paused for a moment. “Cheese factories,” he said.

  * * *

  Cheese factories? Where the fuck had that come from? O’Connor was going to laugh her ass off when he told her about this. Dante’s boss possessed a sense of humor almost as twisted as his own, which turned out to be a real plus in their line of work, since busting up meth labs wasn’t a laugh-a-minute kind of job.

  But maybe he shouldn’t mention this mile-high encounter to O’Connor. Especially if it ended the way he hoped it would, and he hoped it ended completely naked. Besides, he and O’Connor would have a lot more than his love life to discuss when he got back to Asheville. He didn’t care what the DEA higher-ups said—he would get his transfer out of North Carolina. He had to. Six months in and he was already going insane. A Brooklyn boy had no business chasing hillbillies through the woods. It just wasn’t natural.

  Pink Taffy’s little polished thumbnail was dragging along the top of his hand and her breath was coming too fast. He wasn’t sure if it was the vodka, the way she’d been staring at his body, or the mention of his vast industrial holdings that had her panting. It was all he could do not to burst out laughing.

  Dante had always enjoyed women and it was usually mutual, but now that he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in three years, he’d have to admit that women had become his diversion of choice. Especially women like Taffy here—a hot dish of girl-sex served up with an extra-large side of crazy sauce. Why this particular kind of woman seemed to get him every time was a mystery to him. His twin sister the shrink claimed he chose the type on purpose. Daya said the ultrafeminine, überunbalanced types provided an antidote to his overly masculine, law-and-order personality. Dante knew his sister was full of shit and just trying to mess with his head, like always, but it was an interesting theory.

  “What kind of cheese?” Taffy had just asked him.

  “Oh, several kinds.” Dante realized his pretty travel companion wanted details, but he wasn’t much in the kitchen himself and he was raised on his mother’s authentic Puerto Rican cooking, which was heavy on the sofrito sauce and light on the cheese, so he’d have to wing it. “Cheddar, Monterey Jack, and Muenster, mostly.”

  “Oh, how lovely.” She batted her eyes at him.

  The flight attendant came by with his seltzer and he thanked her politely.

  “You have such lovely manners,” Taffy said, now running a fingertip up and down the inside of his wrist. Dante ignored the snorting sound that came from the elderly eavesdropper in the window seat. Taffy didn’t seem to notice. “I can tell you’re a Yankee but I can’t place the accent. Are you from Chicago originally?”

  “Brooklyn.”

  “That’s in New York City, right?”

  He nodded, clenching his jaw to prevent anything sarcastic from slipping out, because, really? This chick had to ask where fucking Brooklyn was?

  “I’ve never been to New York City,” Taffy said wistfully. “Except for this trip to Arizona, I’ve pretty much been in North Carolina all my life. Of course, we were supposed to have our honeymoon in Hawaii, but you can’t very well go on a honeymoon without a husband, now can you?”

  Or credit cards. “So why were you in Arizona, Taffy?”

  The sensual caress of her fingertip came to a screeching halt. She pulled her hand away. Uh-oh.

  “Family business.” Taffy sniffed, pushing her empty plastic cocktail cup to the corner of her tray table.

  She is so lying. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” With that, Dante silently reviewed the checklist now clearly displayed on the whiteboard of his brain.

  Lying? Check.

  Manipulative? Check.

  Beautiful? Check, check.

  Completely fuckin’ lolo? Check-the-shit-out-of-check.

  The flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has informed us that due to an increasingly severe weather system in the Raleigh-Durham area, we are being diverted to Reagan National in Washington, D.C.”

  A collective groan went through the coach cabin.

  “What?” Taffy blinked in incomprehension. “But I don’t want to go to Washington!”

  “We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause our passengers, but please be assured that safety is our primary concern. More information will be available at the gate, but we will now begin our initial descent into the D.C. metro area.”

  She looked to Dante with huge blue eyes. The flight attendant raced by, picking up trash and instructing everyone to lock their tray tables and return seats to upright positions.

  Dante suddenly took pity on daffy Taffy. Clearly, the girl wasn’t a seasoned traveler, and she needed some guidance. “Usually, in cases like this, they put you on the next outgoing flight once the weather is clear. Or, you could choose to stay overnight and catch a flight the next day.”

  His mind began to flood with the image of Taffy spread out on a hotel bed, naked, naked, and more naked …

  “I don’t know anyone in Washington,” she said, shaking her head. Dante thought he saw her upper lip tremble. “Will the airline pay for a hotel?”

  He shrugged. “Not likely. These days you’re lucky if they bring the plane to a full stop before throwing you out the cabin door.”

  She gasped.

  Totally naked.

  “I bet you’ll come up with a creative solution to that little problem,” said the eavesdropper, snorting again.

  Dante shot the old broad a look he figured would shut her up. It worked like a charm.

  Taffy blinked back real tears, and Dante felt a flash of sympathy for her. He might be a federal agent but he wasn’t a jerk. Not all the time, anyway. And he could tell that whatever Taffy had been up to in Arizona had left her vulnerable, unsure of her ability to cope, and i
n need of lots of vodka. Maybe just being away from Raleigh and everything and everyone she’d ever known was too much for her to handle. Maybe it was the jailbird ex-fiancé. Dante made a mental note that if he had a few extra minutes when he got back to Asheville he’d research any recent kidnappings, cold-case murder investigations, real estate swindles, and flying-squirrel incidents in the Raleigh-Durham area. It might give him an idea if any of the wacko tale she’d just told was true, though he wouldn’t bet on it.

  What was important was that he got her naked, ASAP.

  “It’ll be okay,” he assured Taffy. He reached for her pretty little hand and held it in his own. Dante smiled kindly at her, calculating that it would take an hour, tops, and he’d have Taffy just the way he wanted her.

  Unwrapped.

  Chapter 2

  Dan inserted a card into the hotel room door and gave it a push. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Tanyalee as he gestured for her to go ahead. She felt herself blush from peep toes to hairpins.

  Oh, God. This was wrong. All wrong. She shouldn’t be doing this. “Thank you kindly.” As Tanyalee walked under the bridge of his arm, she calculated that he must be six feet three, maybe four. Her mouth went dry.

  “Are you hungry?” Dan asked.

  She shook her head, too nervous to speak, and wandered through the room. It was quite nice, with a big king-sized bed made up with fancy linens, a minifridge under the TV, and maybe even a view of Washington, D.C.

  If she weren’t such a shameless tart she’d take a moment to look for the White House or the Capitol, but she wasn’t here for sightseeing, was she?

  Tanyalee hugged herself and wondered … was this the “negative self-talk” her therapists had warned her about? Was this part of relapse? She pushed the unpleasant questions out of her mind because of course she wasn’t in relapse! This wasn’t about manipulation. This was just about sex.

  “I’ll go get some ice. Be right back.”

  Tanyalee waited until she heard the door shut, then spun around in a near panic. “Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shee-it!”

  What in the world did she think she was doing? She looked down at herself and realized she was in the process of stripping to her underwear and heels, that was what.

  Tanyalee tossed her clothing to a chair, turned off the lamp, and opened the curtains wide. The city lights, intensified by their reflection in the river, became the room’s only illumination. She turned on the TV to a music channel, and heard the strains of soft jazz.

  She breathed deeply and took a moment to decide how to set the stage. It was fortunate that she had worn perfectly lovely lingerie for traveling. The peach lace balconette-style bra put her cleavage to its best advantage and the matching panties were cut high on the leg and low on the hip, perfectly accentuating her curves. A spontaneous mood was best, she decided, and opted for one of her tried-and-true poses. She turned herself slightly away from the door, her long neck exposed, back slightly arched, one arm relaxed at her side while the other hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She had one ankle coyly crossed in front of the other. He would enter the room and catch her alluringly unawares.

  While she held the pose and waited, the oddest sensation began to seep into her bones. Tanyalee felt awkward. Ridiculous. She untwisted herself, and though unsure what to do next, she was certain of one thing—she couldn’t simply stand there in the middle of the room in her underwear like an idiot!

  I can’t let a man see me just being plain ole me …

  The click of the card key in the door made her jump, and she ran across the room to hide behind the wall next to the bed.

  “Taffy?”

  “I’m here,” she said, her voice barely audible.

  This was her last fling. Of course it was. This was her last fling before she went back to Bigler and took up residence in Chastity City.

  Dan strolled into the room, put the ice bucket on the credenza, and turned her way. Tanyalee stepped out from the shadows, and his eyes immediately flashed. He chuckled, low and sexy. “Looks like you got a head start on me.”

  Ooooh, how she loved the sound of his Yankee accent! Unbelievably, she didn’t really mind him calling her that hideous name, either—not with that voice of his! Tanyalee raised her arms and unpinned her hair. Then she messed it up. She licked her lips. This seemed to have the desired effect on Dan, who untied his tie, ripped off his jacket, and untucked his dress shirt while in a trancelike state. Next, he unbuckled his belt, kicked off his shoes, and yanked off his socks. She watched his chest rise and fall as he walked toward her, pants open, shirt loose, dark eyes sparkling.

  What she saw on his incredibly handsome face was nothing but animal lust. It had been a long time since she’d had any animal lust in her life. For sure there was no lust at all, animal or otherwise, during the ten weeks she’d spent at Sedona Sunset. That place had been nothing but endless group therapy, crying, writing lists of people she needed to make amends to, and beating the tar out of a pillow with a whiffle bat. Before rehab, her last brush with lust of any kind had been with Wim Wimbley, her idiot of a fiancé, and that was a dehydrated, wimpy kind of lust she could manage only after receiving a new piece of jewelry. Even that seemed like eons ago.

  The sound of a zipper jolted her to attention.

  Dan was such a big man. His shoulders were so wide. Suddenly she couldn’t swallow. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe the big cheese stud wasn’t safe. Or sane. She could always tell him no, right? It wasn’t too late.

  Right?

  He pulled off his shirt as he stalked her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Taffy. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

  “Okay.” She gave him a brave smile, trying not to stare at his torso.

  Sweet baby Jesus!

  “But you know what I am gonna do to you, right?”

  She heard herself pant. “What?”

  “I’m gonna fuck you silly, all night long, right up until we have to leave for the airport in the morning. You gonna be good with that?”

  “Oh, heavens yes.” It occurred to her that Dan’s accent had just kicked into high gear. It reminded her of one of the husbands from The Real Housewives of New Jersey, probably as close to an Italian prince as she would ever get.

  But it wasn’t what she was hearing that was of primary importance. It was what she was seeing. Tanyalee felt her eyes bug out as she stared at Dan’s pants. His open pants, to be exact. And the extremely large lump pushing out from the gaping zipper. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered.

  “You want that?”

  She nodded.

  He was right in front of her now. She looked up, up, into his face. Tanyalee felt one of his hands roam up the center of her back and slide over the nape of her neck. He claimed a handful of hair and tilted her head back. It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t rough. It was just … direct.

  Dan stepped forward until he was nearly on top of her. He used his body to push Tanyalee until she bumped up against the wall. Then he used his feet to spread her legs, nudged his thighs against the inside of her stance, and she gasped. Dan laced his fingers in hers and pressed their joined hands on the wall over her head, a move that caused her breasts to push up and out, and his eyes wandered down her throat to her chest.

  It was the oddest thing, but Tanyalee noticed that this display of dominance didn’t scare her. Not one bit. When Dan met her gaze with his again, she saw there was respect. Admiration. Like he was in awe of her. Now, of course, this wasn’t the first time she’d seen awe in a man’s eyes, but this was different somehow. Dan wasn’t so overwhelmed with her that he was a slobbering puppy dog, the way Wim had been. God, that had made her sick to her stomach sometimes! The eyes of the man now towering over her told her one thing—she wasn’t the seducer here. She was the seduced.

  Tanyalee almost came in her panties.

  “I gotta ask you some questions before I kiss you,” he said.

  She nodded helplessly.

  “Were
you staring at me while we were waiting at the gate at O’Hare?”

  “Yes.” She’d told the truth. When had she started doing that?

  “When’s the last time you were with a man?”

  She had to do a quick calculation. “More than ten weeks ago. Closer to eleven.”

  “Why were you in Arizona?”

  Tanyalee sighed and averted her eyes.

  “Look at me and tell me the truth.”

  She returned her gaze to Dan and saw that his expression had softened. This man was awfully good at getting information out of people—maybe he was one of those secret interrogators from the CIA, like in the movies, and he just ran a cheese factory as a cover! “If I answer truthfully, do I get to ask some questions of my own?”

  Dan chuckled again. “Sure. So why Arizona?”

  Tanyalee nodded, knowing there was no way around it. “I needed time away to deal with a personal issue. I had to think about changes I could make that would help turn things around for me. I haven’t always been a good person, and I had to come to grips with that fact.”

  Dan paused, thinking for a moment, weighing her response. “So the fraud and the shoplifting—you were at fault, right?”

  Tanyalee rolled her eyes and groaned, and before she could even think of fighting him on this point, Dan lowered his head and placed his lips on the side of her neck. She gasped from the pleasure of it. Then he trailed his tongue down to her shoulder, and bit her softly. “Your turn to ask a question, baby.”

  “That’s not fair,” she managed. “I can’t even think straight when you do that.”

  “Who said anything about fair?”

  “Um, oh, Lord … uh…” He licked softly into the hollow of her throat and Tanyalee felt a hot bolt of need land between her wide-open legs. This was going to take some concentration. “Okay. All right. What I want to know is, um, oh my … do you really own cheese factories?”

  “Nope.” His lips moved across the tops of her breasts and his tongue found a hard nipple just under the lacy surface of her bra cup. He flicked at it.

  “No?”

  “Nuh-uh.” He took the nipple between his teeth and gently bit down.