Marilyn Goldfarb was a little perplexed, her husband Sol had tossed and turned all night. His stirrings had wakened her; Sol was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. When she’d asked this morning he’d said he was a little restless, he had an important meeting that afternoon, he was thinking about it, that was all.
Sol usually took the train each morning, his office was in the city, the train beat fighting the horrendous traffic jams but today he’d taken the Maybach. He’d said the meeting was in the afternoon, he didn’t know when it would break up and he didn’t want to be stuck if the last train had already run.
Marilyn was a little disappointed, she had a date with her friend Ruth Finkel, they were having lunch then a round of golf at Willow Hills, their club. She liked to drive the Maybach when she went to the club. It was a 2009 Maybach 62 Zeppelin sedan, Tiaga black with a light brown shoulder stripe, distinctive; most of the members drove luxury cars but no one else drove a Maybach.
Oh well, she thought, next time; besides her car was a cute little Mazda Miata; competition yellow, bright and shiny, just like this perfect day; just like Marilyn’s disposition, she always had a smile.
Ruth was waiting when she arrived, they were lunching on the patio, the dining room required more formal attire; Ruth and Marilyn were dressed for golf, soft spikes, little golf socks, shorts and golf shirts. Of course both ladies were also wearing lingerie; Marilyn’s was special, a treat she didn’t deny herself. She wore nothing but silk, Carine Gilson silk panties and bra; Marilyn loved the soft coolness of silk.
As they were enjoying crab salad stuffed tomatoes, Ruth commented, “I know it’s none of my concern but is Sol having some problems with the business?”
Not that Marilyn was aware of and she certainly hoped there were none. Sol was the president of Silverstein Supplies, wholesaler of commercial hardware to the construction trades. The company was sixty years old; it had been founded by her grandfather who’d passed the leadership to her father. When she’d married Sol her father had given him a twenty-five percent interest in the company, when he’d retired Sol had succeeded him as president.
But her father had passed away several years ago, Marilyn was an only child, she’d inherited everything, the mansion they lived in, the lake front week-end cottage upstate and stock in the firm. Herman Silverstein held had fifty-one percent ownership; now Marilyn did.
“I’m not aware of any problems, Ruth, why do you ask?”
“It’s just something Hy said.” Hy was Ruth’s husband; his company was also one of Silverstein’s biggest suppliers. “He mentioned that Sol had always paid net thirty and discounted now the invoices aren’t being paid for sixty days or more; he thought maybe the crash in the housing market might be affecting Sol’s cash flow.”
Marilyn answered, “I’m sure that’s all it is, he’ll work through it.”
That’s what she said but she knew she needed to talk to Sol, that kind of speculation could hurt their borrowing ability and their trade credit. She decided she’d call Sol when she got the chance; have him meet her here at the club for dinner. That meant going home to dress appropriately but it wasn’t all that far, she’d leave when they’d finished their round and had their two glasses of wine in the nineteenth hole.”
In the heart of the city, in his eighty-second floor office Dennis Dancer was on the warpath, no real reason, he was set to do the biggest deal of his life, $15,000,000.00 with Paco Hernandez, the head of one of the Mexican cartels. Dancer was really brokering the deal. The meth cookers throughout Appalachia and the Ozarks supplied his product, the deal had been in the works for several months, the cash would be wired transferred to his accounts in the Caymen Islands then the Mexicans would transport the 3250 pounds of crystal meth. How they distributed it wasn’t his concern. He was paying $200.00 per ounce and selling it for $300.00; 50,000 ounces with a street value of $800.00 an ounce.
The cookers would gross $10,000,000 but they had the cost and risks of production. Paco stood to make $25,000,000 but he was responsible for the transshipment and distribution, Dancer’s cut was a cool $5,000,000.
Dancer was a fastidious man, impeccably groomed, his manicurist and barber both came to his office once a week. He wore nothing but custom tailored clothing, he preferred a European style to his suits, his shoes were stitched by hand. He was a Dandy. He owned six nightclubs, when he’d made his move and had taken over his first; he’d gone in with two of his men to let the employees know that they now answered to him.
When asked about the former owner he said, “He won’t be around anymore.”
One of the girls had looked him up and down, his custom clothes and said, “Well ain’t you the dandy;” the name stuck. He was Dandy Dancer and he was nervous about his deal. He needed a little relief.
He hit the intercom, “Cherry, come in here.”
He had two secretaries in his outer office, Cherry, not her real name, when she’d worked in one of his clubs she called herself Cherry Delight, she was there for moments like this; the other secretary, Tony Grosso was there for his Glock 17, he was a bodyguard.
Cherry rushed in, it didn’t do to keep Dandy waiting, he could blow up in a second. That would earn her a trip to his private room, his private bedroom and bath through the door concealed in the paneling behind his desk. She did not want to go there; it was painful to say the least; Dandy was a sexual sadist, he wasn’t huge, maybe seven inches but he used it like a weapon and he liked whips.
He’d scooted back from his desk, “Give me a little help here Cherry.”
She unzipped his slacks, he was still flaccid, she pulled out his cock and took it into her mouth. Now this was something Cherry could do, as a secretary she left a lot to be desired but as a cock sucker she was world class.
She licked his shaft ‘til he was hard then deep throated him, she could take him all. Down her throat, sucking, humming then back up then down, bobbing on his lap.
God what she could do with her tongue and lips, twirling her tongue around his erection, teasing the little hole then up and down again. Dandy grabbed her head and fucked her mouth, forcing his cock down her throat, trying to gag her, she sucked, she was the best.
She’d brought a box of tissues with her, it was on the floor beside his chair; she grabbed a handful. Dandy was swelling, he was ready to cum, he turned loose of her head, let her finish. He gushed into her mouth, she swallowed, his cock spasmed, another gush, another swallow. She sucked him ‘til he was dry; she hadn’t needed the tissues. She had them in case of an accident; if she couldn’t swallow it all she’d catch it in the Kleenex, if it got on his slacks it could mean a trip to his room.
“Ok, get out of here and Cherry, a guy by the name of Goldfarb’s supposed to be here at three-thirty, keep him waiting then buzz me at four, got it?”
He hit the intercom, “Tony, bring me Goldfarb’s file and call Joe and Angelo, tell them to get here at four-thirty but wait outside, I’ll call Joe on his cell if I want them to come up.”
In his mid-town office Solomon Goldfarb was pacing, desk to window, back and forth, nervous. His company was in trouble, the housing collapse, builders weren’t building, his products weren’t selling and his accounts receivables weren’t paying. Long term clients, relationships built over years, always good for the money, they were defaulting right and left, some bankrupt, others that just weren’t paying. Sol understood, he was in the same shape with his suppliers, still…
Sol had always been a gambler, Las Vegas junkets, Atlantic City, now he had an ****** account, he’d usually come up a winner, especially at college basketball. March Madness 2010, the finals, Duke versus Butler at Lucas Oil Stadium, Indianapolis, Indiana. Duke was favored by seven, it was speculated that Butler’s star forward, Matt Howard would be out, concussion in the Michigan State game.
Sol was sure there was no way Duke could lose; they didn’t, final, Duke 61, Butler 59. Duke won, Sol didn’t, the spread was seven, the Blue Devils hadn’t covered. Sol had put it on the line; he could save his company with a win, $100,000.00 on the Dukies, lost.
Now he had a three-thirty appointment with Dandy Dancer to pay, he couldn’t, he’d just beg for more time.
At around one, before she and Ruth teed off she called Sol, his secretary answered and put the call through, “Mr. Goldfarb, Mrs. Goldfarb is on line one.”
“Hello Dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“A dinner invitation, I’d like you to meet at the club for dinner.”
“Marilyn Dear, I have that meeting I mentioned, I probably can’t make it before seven, will that work?”
“That’s fine Sol, Ruth and I are teeing off at one-fifteen so we’ll probably finish around four. After a little stop at the nineteenth hole I’ll go home and change, seven’s fine, I’ll meet you in the bar.”
“See you at seven then.”
And Sol resumed pacing; he’d skipped lunch, he was too nervous to eat. At two forty-five he left for Dancer’s office, he’d walk; it was only a mile and a half.
Precisely at three-thirty Sol arrived in the reception area of Dancer’s office; he announced himself to the young lady at the right desk.
“Hello, my name is Solomon Goldfarb; I have a three-thirty appointment to see Mr. Dancer.”
She buzzed Dandy, “There’s a Mr. Goldfarb to see you, Mr. Dancer.”
“Four, I’ll buzz you at four, tell him to have a seat.”
To his male secretary, “So tell me Tony, whata you think?”
“I think he’s strapped, it looks like he’s been running the company by spending his reserves and depleting his paid in capital. He’s got some assets; that Maybach set him back half a million but he’s got no cash that I can see. I bet he’s here to cry poor mouth.”
“You think so, I told him I’d carry him a little, $50,000 today, $50,000 in a week and $10,000 extra interest the week after that.”
“He won’t have it Boss, I’d bet.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” glancing at his watch, it was two after four. He buzzed Cherry, “Please show Mr. Goldfarb in.”
“Mr. Goldfarb, please have a seat,” Dandy said, indicating the chair across the desk.
“You have my money, the $50,000, Mr. Goldfarb?”
“No Mr. Dancer, I don’t, I need a little more time.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand Mr. Goldfarb, I’ve given you more than enough time, you were to bring me $50,000 as a demonstration of your good faith, yet you come empty handed?”
“You disappoint me Mr. Goldfarb, severely disappoint me, but I try to be a fair man. I understand you drive a 2009 Maybach 62 Zeppelin, a nice car Mr. Goldfarb, a very nice car. I’ll tell you what; sign the title over to me, I’ll call it square, principal, interest, everything, now is that a deal.”
“Mr. Dancer, that car cost more than half a million, it’s only a year old, that’s really not much of a deal.”
“Hey, you know what they say, “Drive it off the showroom floor it loses half its value,” so that’s the deal I’m offering.”
“Mr. Dancer I’ll have to think about that.”
“You do that Mr. Goldfarb, you think about it, but remember, you defaulted on our agreement, I’m not responsible for what may happen. Now, get out of my office.”
After Goldfarb had left Dandy told Tony to call Joe, he needed the two of them, now.
Sol walked back to his office, he wanted to sit down with his corporate comptroller, see if there was any way he could get his hands on at least $50,000 to buy some time. The walk seemed much longer going back than it had earlier.
Marilyn was tickled, she’d just beaten Ruth by three strokes, shot a 92 and Ruth was stuck with the drink tab, their little bet whenever they played. They ordered a Kistler Vineyard Chardonnay, a big creamy Chardonnay, Marilyn’s favorite.
After bidding Ruth adieu, Marilyn drove home in her yellow Miata, her face as radiant as the car; it‘d been a good day. She was sure Sol had reasons for what Ruth had told her. They’d had peaks and valleys in the past, he’d work it out.
Dandy had Joe and Antonio in his office, Antonio was an ox of a man, six-three and at least 260, he was muscle, not too bright but if muscle was required he was a good man to have along. Joe was the exact opposite, slim with dark hair he was only five seven but he was quick as a cobra and deadly with either his Glock or his knife, if there was “wet work” to be done, Joe handled that. He’s the one that had “disappeared” the club owner for Dandy’s first take-over.
“Ok, here’s how it is, I got a guy name of Goldfarb, he owes me a hundred grand and he’s welching on our agreement, I think it’s time we set his mind right. We’re gonna take a little drive out to his house, maybe talk with the wife, see if she can help him out, capice?”
Angelo asked, “We gonna fuck her Dandy?”
“Angelo is pussy all you ever think about; we’ll see after we get there.”
Angelo gave Dandy a little grin; pussy was about the only thing he thought about, that and food.
They took the elevator down to the garage, it would take about an hour to make the drive, it was four thirty, five thirty then, they took the Explorer, black Ford Explorer, when they arrived Dandy told Joe to drive clear to the top of the drive, like they were on official business, they got out and walked toward the front door.
Sol’s meeting with his comptroller wasn’t going well. He’d been chastised for blowing a half a mil on the Maybach, about the European vacation, the two weeks spent in Israel; Sol hadn’t realized how much money he’d gone through. Marilyn’s clothing budget was stupendous, dresses, pant suits or skirts and tops were all from famous designers, even her lingerie was outta sight, she only wore Carine Gilson, silk bras and silk panties, over seven hundred just for a set, he didn’t know, really hadn’t cared, it made her happy and if Marilyn was happy, Sol was happy. She was a true JAP, Jewish American Princess, the only child of a rich man, her every need had been catered to, first her father then Sol.
Still Sol felt he was a lucky man to have married her; he’d never made president of Silverstein if he hadn’t. Marilyn was a beautiful young woman when he’d met her. She was Jewish, of course, but her features weren’t Semitic. She was a tall, willowy blonde, slim and lithe, with a dancer’s body and a dancer’s grace. She moved like a panther, gliding across the floor. Now she was, if anything even more beautiful, at forty-seven she still turned heads. He was proud of her, he loved her and he hoped she’d understand.
Marilyn was beautiful, especially tonight; she’d showered when she got back from the club then had taken some time with her hair and make-up. Marilyn’s hair was honey blonde with sun streaks, light highlights and shoulder length, Sol liked her with longer hair and she liked pleasing Sol, her weekly appointment with her hairdresser kept the gray at bay, and a little gray was showing up, top and bottom. The top her stylist took care of but the bottom took, ouch, tweezers; still, to maintain the illusion of youth, one had to pay the price.
Then she’d dressed carefully, she was wearing black thigh high stockings, black Carine Gilson silk panties and brassiere and a Donna Karin ensemble, a black pencil skirt, knife cut up the back, a black shoulder cap top and a black jacket, her feet were encased in Manolo Blahnik patent leather Mary Jane pumps. She was wearing minimal jewelry, a white gold choker and white gold earrings, complimenting the silver clutch she was carrying.
She picked up the keys to the Miata, it was only five-thirty, she’d have another glass of that fabulous Kisler Vinyard Chardonnay while she waited for Sol. The doorbell rang.
Marilyn opened the door; on her porch were three men, men she’d never met before, the one carrying a black briefcase spoke, “Mrs. Goldfarb?” A nod of acknowledgement, “May I ask is Mr. Goldfarb in?”
“No, I’m afraid Mr. Goldfarb isn’t, he’s been delayed in the city, may I help you?”
“Yes, I’m certain you can, what I have to discuss could possibly affect both you and Mr. Goldfarb, may we come in?”
Marilyn hesitated for a moment, three men, men she didn’t know asking to come into her house; she looked them over, appraising them, the risk. The gentleman doing the speaking was richly attired, perhaps a little flamboyantly for her taste, still his suit cried out hand tailored. The other two were also wearing suits, off the rack suits, still good quality; she guessed her hesitation was because one of them, the big one was so intimidating.
“Please Mrs. Goldfarb; I’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”
“I apologize, my name is Dennis Dancer and there two gentlemen are my associates.”
“Well, yes Mr. Dancer, please do come in, although I don’t have a lot of time, I was just on my way out to meet Mr. Goldfarb for dinner at the club.”
“I’m sure you will have a lot to discuss, I have some paperwork to show you, may we use your dining room table?”
Marilyn led the way to the dining room, the decoration was minimal, just a bowl of artificial fruit.
Dandy had enjoyed the trip, even at forty-seven she was phenomenal, her ass was as tight as a teenagers, he followed her graceful sway.
“Can we do our business here Mr. Dancer/” She asked.
The table would easily seat ten, solid walnut, sturdy, exactly right.
“Gentlemen, please clear the table,” Dandy said.
Angelo stepped forward; he swept the arrangement off, with a crash the Waterford bowl shattered, faux pears and apples rolled.
Appalled, she stood in silence, frightened and shocked.
“Mrs. Goldfarb, I offered Solomon a very nice deal this afternoon, he gives me the title to the Maybach, we’re square.”
“Mr. Dancer, that automobile is worth five hundred thousand, how much does he owe you?”
“His original debt was one hundred thousand but I’ve given him time, he’s run up interest; I want one hundred and fifty thousand now, can you pay his debt, Mrs. Goldfarb?”
“No Mr. Dancer, I cannot, I believe this conversation is over, please leave.”
“No, I’m afraid it’s you that doesn’t understand, Mr. Goldfarb owes me a rather large sum of money and, more to the point, he’s defaulted on the arrangement that he made, to continue to carry him I need collateral, you understand don’t you,” as he raised the briefcase he’d carried in.
He snapped the two latches, “Mrs. Goldfarb, this is my collateral,” he said as he laid two photos on the table. “Please look at them.”
Marilyn stepped closer, yes, they were photos, the first she saw was of herself, smiling, at the club. The second nearly buckled her knees, it was of her nineteen year old daughter Sharon, she was on the quad at Wellesly, a woman’s college in Massachusetts, Sharon was a freshman there, Marilyn’s Alma Matter.
“Mrs. Goldfarb, I’d like to inspect my collateral, don’t you agree that that’s reasonable?”
Marilyn was struck dumb, this man was threatening Sharon, no, this couldn’t be happening she thought.
“Mrs. Goldfarb you didn’t answer me. Don’t you think a creditor should be able to inspect his collateral?”
Dumbly, shocked, Marilyn nodded her acknowledgement.
Dandy smiled, “I knew you were reasonable, that you’d agree; so, I want to inspect my collateral. Mrs. Goldfarb, please take off your jacket.”
That snapped Marilyn out of her stupor
“I’m sorry Mr. Dancer?”
“I thought I was clear, I want to see my collateral, You Mrs. Goldfarb are my collateral, I want to see you, now take off the jacket.”
Infuriated at his impetuousness, Marilyn screamed, “Just who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
Unruffled Dandy replied, “My collateral, Mrs. Goldfarb, my collateral, now take the jacket off.”
“Mrs. Goldfarb, I can see that that’s a very nice ensemble, Donna Karin would be my guess, there’s no sense in having it ripped and torn, however if you don’t do as I ask, these two gentlemen will assist you in disrobing, it’s your choice, take your clothes off, fold them, put them on the table and have them for another day or pick up the shreds later, it’s entirely up to you.”
It finally registered, this man was serious, he was going to force her to disrobe for him, he wanted to inspect his “collateral,” her.
Slowly she removed her jacket, folded it and laid it on the table.
He smiled at her, “Very good, Mrs. Goldfarb, now the blouse.”
It wasn’t really a blouse, it was a shell, she took it over her head, folded it and laid it on the jacket.
“Now the brassiere Mrs. Goldfarb.”
She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, shrugged her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
“Hey Dandy, she’s got great tits for an old broad,” Angelo, who else.
“Angelo, quiet, this is a lady of class, don’t call them tits, they’re breasts aren’t they Mrs. Goldfarb?”
Marilyn couldn’t answer, how far was this man going to go?
“Please lift your breasts Mrs. Goldfarb.”
Marilyn knew what he was looking for and she knew he’d find it; she lifted her breasts, both so he could see the underside.
“Ah, just as I thought, still, I must compliment your surgeon, he did fantastic work, your breasts are beautiful.” They were, they were 36C cups and sculpted, sculpted by a plastic surgeon’s scalpel, Dancer had noticed.
“Step out of your shoes Mrs. Goldfarb.”
She kicked off her Manolo Blahnik pumps and stood in her stocking feet.
“Ah, now we come to the test don’t we Mrs. Goldfarb; your skirt, please remove your skirt.”
Marilyn hesitated, “Take the skirt off Mrs. Goldfarb unless you require assistance.”
She unfastened it, unzipped it and let it fall to the floor, she stepped out of it and stood before him, black thigh highs and black Carine Gilson silk panties, nothing more, breasts free, she stood nearly nude.
Dandy gazed on her for several minutes, drinking in her beauty, she was truly spectacular, he could by the puff in the front of her panties tell that she was unshaven, untrimmed, how he really preferred his women. He got most of his sex from his club managers and their girls; they all seemed to be bare as a babies butt or had a little landing strip no bigger than some black dude’s soul patch. This woman was truly a vision.
Marilyn was trembling with fear, she expected, no, she knew she was about to be raped, at least Dancer and probably the other two, too, her knees would hardly support her.
The fateful words, she knew they were coming, “Mrs. Goldfarb, lower your panties please.”
Marilyn couldn’t take anymore, the slow deliberate way he’d forced her to undress, his quiet demands, she let go.
Marilyn, with her beautiful honey streaked hair, couldn’t take anymore, she nearly collapsed, she didn’t, she held herself up but her bladder betrayed her.
First a darker spot on her black panties then a yellow stream through the gusset, finally, through both leg holes, a golden cascade, three puddles on the tile, merging into one, her feet, her stockings, her panties were soaked.
“Mrs. Goldfarb, I’m sorry that I was so disturbing to you, I only wanted to know if you were naturally blonde.”
“She’d broken, she shrieked, “My hair’s brown, gray and brown you bastard, oh you bastard.”
Marilyn stood sobbing, a proud, beautiful woman, the end of what had been a nearly perfect day, the worst day of her life, she stood in her own urine and she sobbed.
“Mrs. Goldfarb, please be sure to let Mr. Goldfarb know that I stopped by, that I took the opportunity to inspect part of my collateral, if I have to inspect the rest I suppose we, my associates and I will have to drive to Massachusetts.”
Even through her tears, even through her embarrassment and humiliation she understood, if Sol didn’t get him taken care of he’d go after Sharon.
They were out the door and gone before the implication of what he’d said registered. He’d humbled and humiliated her, she was standing in a puddle of her own pee, she could endure that but he’d threatened her daughter; that she couldn’t abide.
She pulled herself together, first things first, soaked thigh highs still on, she traipsed across the carpet, up the stairs to her bed and bath. She stripped her underwear off, showered and dressed, dressed like she did when she gardened, white cotton panties, a simple bra, shorts, a pull over and sneakers.
She picked up the evidence of her weakness, her Carine Gilson panties and the thigh highs, went back down stairs, picked up her brassiere and carried them to the garage, to the trash, seven hundred dollars of lingerie into the trash, she’d never wear those panties and stockings again, the bra was part of a set, it had to go, too.
Like a charwoman, she got a mop and cleaned the evidence of her weakness. What to do next, she called Sol on his cell phone, told him that she’d had to change their plans, that she was at home, then called her attorney.
He wasn’t only her attorney, he was her friend and confidant, she told him what she knew and what had been done to her.
“Marilyn the first thing we need to do is assure your safety, yours and Sharon’s, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Let me make a few calls, I don’t have anyone that I can recommend but I have friends, other lawyers who’ll know, I’ll get back to you shortly.”
In less than twenty minutes he had her back on the phone, “Marilyn, I’ll tell you I’ve tried to find out something about the guy that I got a recommendation for, lexis nexis, nothing, all my other searches, nothing, maybe he’s a ghost, a chimera, I don’t know but I got a contact number. They tell me, call the number, leave a message, what your problem is, if he’s interested he’ll call you back, if not you’ll never hear from him. The guys that know say he’s expensive but he’s the very best. Do you want his number?”
She dialed the number.
“Paladin Protective Services leave a detailed message; tell me what you need, leave a number, if I’m interested I’ll call you. You have two minutes.”
It took a moment for the pragmatic words to register then Marilyn poured out her heart, the threat to her husband, the threat to her and most important, the implied threat to her daughter, she prayed she’d hear from him.
Ten minutes later her phone rang, “Mrs. Goldfarb, this is LJ Paladin, you left a message for me, I’m sure I can help, would you like to meet?”
“Mr. Paladin, I’m told you’re expensive, could we meet before we agree on anything?”
“Mrs. Goldfarb, some might feel I charge a lot, frankly, I do, I require a five thousand dollar retainer, non-refundable up front then hourly billing for myself and any operatives that I employ, I can assure you that your cost will be in the $25,000 to $50,000 range, if that discourages you I can understand but, I’m selective about my clients, I’d never have returned your call without the recommendation I got from an attorney that I’ve performed a lot of work for; do you want to meet?”
Marilyn thought, that is a lot of money but then she reconsidered, she bought quality, in her cars, in her clothing in her undergarments and from what her attorney had told her Paladin was quality, the best. She thought they could meet on neutral ground, size each other up, make decisions.
“Mr. Paladin, do you know Willow Hills Country Club?”
“Yes, I’ve been there several times.”
She was a little surprised, Willow Hills was exclusive, she wondered how he’d gotten in,
“Could we meet there tomorrow, say eleven, lunch, and we can talk?”
“I can make it eleven,” he replied, “I may not be able to stay for lunch, I have other appointments, but I’ll be there at eleven.”
“Fine, I’ll be on the patio, good bye Mr. Paladin.”
Solomon Goldfarb was a troubled and frightened man, his meeting with his comptroller hadn’t gone well at all, there was nothing in the company that he could convert to immediate cash, his personal account was empty, he was going to have to give up the Maybach.
He phoned Dancer, told him he’d sign over the car.
“I’m afraid that won’t be sufficient Mr. Goldfarb, I would have accepted it as payment in full earlier but now I’ve incurred collection expenses, I require the Maybach and fifty thousand to clear your account.”
Sol hung up, dazed, he didn’t have the fifty grand.
And Marilyn, what had happened that she’d changed her mind about dinner at the club? He’d know in a moment, he was driving up their winding drive.
Sol knew something was wrong as soon as he walked in. Marilyn was dressed in shorts and sneakers; her normally immaculately groomed hair was disheveled.
“Sol, what have you done, what have you gotten us into?”
“Marilyn Dear, I can exp…”
“No Sol, I’m not sure you can. I had a visit from a man named Dancer, he and two other men came here to our home, Sol, here to our home.”
“Dancer was here?”
Sol confessed the betting, his losses and his inability to pay.
“He wanted the Maybach, I tried to delay him, wanted to see if there was any way I could raise the money. I spent all afternoon with the comptroller; there’s nothing there so I called Dancer, he won’t take the Maybach as payment, said he had collection expenses, now he wants the car and fifty thousand.”
“I think I must be the collection expense, he made me disrobe for him, threatened me and worse, threatened Sharon. Sol, he called me his collateral, told me he wanted to inspect his security and he made me strip. I did it, he said that if I didn’t, the two other men would help me, the idea of them having their hands on me, so I took my clothes off, my jacket, my blouse, my brassiere and my skirt. When I was down to just my stockings and panties he told me to take my panties down I lost it. Sol, I urinated on myself, I was afraid and I was humiliated and I wet myself. He said to be sure to tell you that he’d stopped by to inspect his collateral and that if you didn’t pay he’s drive up to Massachusetts to check on the rest. Then he left me standing there in my own puddle, crying.”
“Marilyn, I’ll find some way, I’ll sign over the Maybach tomorrow, work something out for the fifty thousand.”
“Solomon Goldfarb, you’ll do no such thing, after what he put me through you’ll pay him nothing. I’ve made an appointment with a man, a protector, we’re meeting tomorrow, he’s going to help us. Nothing, damn you Sol for getting us into this, but nothing, pay that horrible man nothing.”
After he’d spoken to Mrs. Goldfarb LJ had his secretary assemble a dossier on the Goldfarb’s and on Dancer, he needed to know who the player’s were. He didn’t particularly like what he’d learned, Dancer had a reputation as a mean son of a bitch, people that he had disputes with had a penchant for disappearing. He knew about Joe and Angelo, his street guys and he knew about his male secretary Tony, handier with his Glock than he was with a computer.
At eleven Marilyn was seated on the patio waiting. She saw a man, standing, looking over the area, he was backlit by the sun, she couldn’t make out his features but the light seemed to give him an aura, almost angelic, she wondered, was this an omen, was he going to be her Guardian Angel?
As he came toward her, under the shade of the patio she was better able to see him. He wasn’t what she’d expected at all, not the big muscleman bodyguard that she’d conjured in her imagination; he was almost slight.
LJ Paladin, Leonard Jonas Paladin, and no one called him Leonard, he was LJ or he was Paladin; was unassuming in appearance. Five nine, one hundred eighty-five pounds, solid; black hair swept back and, like his television namesake, he was dressed in black; not western garb though, his suit was Sergio Armani, worn over a black tee-shirt, instead of boots he wore cap toes, like Allen Edmonds but his were custom made. His only jewelry if you would call it that wasn’t evident. In his pocket was a Benchmade Auto Spike push button knife, effective if his opponent was wearing a Kevlar vest, bulletproof but not knife proof, the sharp tip would pierce the fiber; under his left arm in a shoulder holster he carried a Sig Saur P226 Blackhawk; 20 rounds of 9 mm parabellums in the magazine; the same weapon he’d carried when he was a Navy SEAL.
“Mrs. Goldfarb? I’m LJ Paladin, May I have a seat?”
“Please do, Mr. Paladin,” she replied, offering her hand.
Taking her hand, gentle shake, and taking his seat he said, “Please, the formalities were fine on the telephone but now that we’ve met please call me LJ or Paladin, whichever you prefer.”
“Only if you’ll call me Marilyn.”
“Marilyn it is, tell me a little more about your situation.”
She recounted everything that had happened to her, the threats about Sharon and what Sol had told her last night, the betting, the losing and his inability to pay.
“LJ, Sol did lose the bet, I guess he does owe that terrible Dancer man one hundred thousand but that’s not going to solve the problem now, Sol offered to sign over our Maybach to him, that’s a half a million dollar automobile, he wants that and fifty thousand.”
“Marilyn after we talked earlier I did some research, Dancer’s a viscous man, his threats need to be taken seriously. I think I can help but, if before we go any further, not to be crass, but there’s my retainer and a contract we need to sign.”
“LJ, yes, I do want your help. Could you come by my house this evening, say around six, I’ll go over the contract and I’ll have your retainer.”
“That would be fine.”
She gave him her address and directions, saying, “I’ll see you at six.”
“I’ll be there, in the meantime, be careful, take precautions, I’ll put one of my operatives with you starting tomorrow but, tonight I suggest you go home and lock yourself in, ok.”
She’s noticed that several of the other ladies had seemed to recognize him; he’d walked straight to her without acknowledging them. Had he done work for them, she wondered. On her way out she stopped at the club manager’s office, “Frederick, do you know the gentleman that was at my table?” She asked.
“Oh yes, I know him, LJ Paladin, he helped me out once.”
As she walked toward her car Marilyn thought she remembered, two or three years ago Frederick’s daughter had been threatened by a former boyfriend, a psycho who’d stalked her and threatened to rape and kill her. Then he’d simply disappeared. He’d been seen with a small Oriental woman, everyone assumed that they’d taken off together, maybe not, had Paladin had a hand in that?
It was noon before LJ got back to the city, he took up residence in a coffee shop across the street from Dancer’s building, he wanted to see him and maybe get a look at his office; know thine enemy. He didn’t have long to wait, fortunately, at six bucks a cup for lattes, Dancer came out the front door of the building accompanied by a huge Hispanic, Angelo. A Mercedes sedan cruised up, the driver was a slight man; that had to be Joe; he got in, the Mercedes pulled from the curb and headed south.
Paying and leaving a reasonable tip Paladin walked across the street to the building, took a fast elevator and stepped out on the eighty-second floor.
The brass nameplate said Dancer Enterprises, he opened the door, went in. Two rooms, the reception area and what had to be Dancer’s office. Two secretaries, on the left Tony, LJ knew about Tony, on the right a pretty young woman, maybe twenty-four or five, strawberry blonde, cute little nose with a spray of freckles. She asked, “May I help you?”
“Is Mr. Dancer in?” LJ knew he wasn’t. He’d just seen him leave.
“No, I’m afraid Mr. Dancer’s out of the office, did you have an appointment?”
“No, no appointment; thought I’d just drop by; I’ll give him a call, set something up.”
Marilyn had driven home and locked her doors, checked the windows and set the alarm, she’d take his advice, be careful.
She took a shower, spent a little time on her hair then dressed, a bright print sun dress, bare shoulders, she was braless but she did have on her Carine Gilson silk panties, she adored the feel of silk. On her feet were a pair of white sandals, and right now they were doing extra duty.
She was pacing, nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, she put on some music, thought it might sooth, relax her. No, now she was pacing to the beat, God she thought, I’m going nuts.
Marilyn hadn’t smoked in nearly fifteen years, she’d given it up, a nasty habit and unhealthy, she was dying for one right now, she fought the urge, paced faster, and finally succumbed, she had to do something.
Grabbing her keys and her handbag and switching off the alarm system she rushed out. There was a convenience store about a half a mile away, it was twenty ‘til six, she’d be back before he got there.
“A package of Virginia Slims please and one of those little lighters,” she paid the clerk, tore open the pack, took one out and lit it, inhaled. The heady rush that a drag gives someone that had smoked then quit, a little light headedness, it felt good, she jumped in her little Mazda and headed home.
Dandy had called a little meeting earlier; Tony, Joe and Angelo were in his office.
“This fuckin’ Goldfarb, he’s pissin’ me off. I don’t need the distraction right now but he owes me, we’re going back out there, I’m gonna get at least an interest payment. Tony, you stay here, hold down the fort, Joe bring the car around, the Mercedes, ok.”
He hit the intercom, “Cherry call Helen Metz, I want to see her in my office at eight tonight.”
“Let’s go Angelo.”
It was ten ‘til six when they arrived.
“Park back in the bushes, hide the car, we’ll walk up.”
At the front door Dandy was surprised, the door was partially open, he nudged it with his foot, the house seemed empty, they walked in.
Dandy heard the crunch of tires in the drive and glanced out the window, it was Marilyn, smoking like a chimney. As she hurried toward the door she tossed the butt on the lawn.
“Grab her when she comes in, she’ll try to run after yesterday.”
Marilyn had her key out, ready, she didn’t need it, her front door was ajar. God she thought had she been that desperate for a damned cigarette?
She walked in. She tried to scream but a hand covered her mouth, her arms were pinned at her sides.
“Take her in the dining room, clear that table and we’ll have a little fun.”
The two goons hustled her into the dining room, there was nothing to clear from the table, she hadn’t replaced the crystal bowel yet.
“Bend her over the table.”
Strong arms forced her down, bent at the waist, chest on the burnished walnut, feet still on the floor.
That voice, mocking, not loud, controlled, Dancer said,
“Mrs. Goldfarb, Mrs. Goldfarb, your husband Solomon didn’t pay me. I think I’m at least entitles to an interest payment, don’t you?”
She felt his hand between her shoulder blades, he gripped the fabric that was her sun dress and jerked, with a rip it was torn away.
“Oh very nice Mrs. Goldfarb, very nice; I love your choice in lingerie, silk just like yesterday, now don’t wet yourself Mrs. Goldfarb,” he said.
He thrust his knee between her legs, spreading them then he cupped her sex.
“Yes, very, very nice Mrs. Goldfarb, you look delightful, I think I’ll enjoy collecting my interest,” as he ripped her panties off.
LJ arrived just a few minutes early, as he wound his way along her drive he noted the car secreted in the foliage, it was the Mercedes sedan that had driven away with Dancer as a passenger. He had a bad, bad feeling.
He left his ’97 Porsche 911 GT1 around the bend in the drive and cautiously approached the house on foot. The bad feeling just got worse, the door was standing open; silently he went in.
Dandy Dancer was fastidious about his appearance; he didn’t want to soil his suit, he took off his slacks and lay them on the table then his silk boxers, how fitting he thought, she liked silk, too, no, he didn’t want to soil his clothing and he was going to make a mess, when he and his two men finished with Mrs. Goldfarb, she’d be a whimpering, sobbing mess, her pussy was his, maybe even some of her perfect heart shaped ass. He moved behind her, poised.
Preoccupied, his attention on Marilyn Dandy hadn’t seen Paladin glance around the door.
He set his briefcase down, Angelo, the big guy, seemed the natural first target but LJ knew Joe was the truly dangerous one; he sprang.
An elbow kite to the side of Joe’s head and he was down, then LJ pivoted, delivering a spinning side kick to Angelo’s face. He heard the crunch of cartilage collapsing as his custom sewn, steel cap toe shoe struck; Angelo went down like a felled oak tree.
Dancer reached for his gun, LJ was faster, his Sig came up, “Ah, ah, ah Dandy, with your fingers, take it out, that’s right, slowly, now drop it and walk around the table.”
Joe was starting to stir, LJ popped him in the ear with his steel capped toe, “Stay there,” he said, as if Joe had a choice, he was down for the count.
Marilyn had run from the room, from the corner of his eye he’d seen her fleeing up the stairs. He’d see to her in a few minutes, right now he needed to deal with Dancer.
“Lie down on the carpet Dandy.”
Dancer did as instructed, LJ knelt and searched Joe, he had a Glock seventeen in his shoulder holster and a wicked blade in an arm sheath, LJ thought it was a Fairbairn Sykes fighting knife, he took them both. Angelo had a twin of Joe’s Glock seventeen but Paladin found no other weapons; his bulk was his other tool.
“I’ll keep these as souvenirs, Dancer, now get your trash out of here, the big guy probably needs medical attention, I think I crushed his nose. And by the way Dandy, don’t come back.”
“Who the fuck are you.”
“My name’s Paladin, LJ Paladin Dandy, that’s all you really need to know.”
Joe stirred, Dancer prodded him, “Come on, help me with Angelo.”
Once they were gone LJ locked the door, gathered up Dancer’s 9 and went looking for Marilyn.
He found her in her bedroom, she’d put a robe on, she was curled in a ball, on her bed, crying.
LJ rubbed her back, “You’re safe now Marilyn, they’re gone.”
She looked up through tear stained eyes, gave a little final sob, said, “Hold me LJ, please hold me, I need some strength, share yours with me please.”
He sat on the bed, she came onto his lap, he petted her, soothing words, gentle caresses, calming her down. She unbuckled his belt, unfastened his slacks, the zipper went down, the adrenalin, the fear, the euphoria of her salvation, all had given Marilyn a twinge in her abdomen, she wanted relief, she wanted release, she wanted LJ Paladin.
Paladin thought, she’s not a client, not yet, the contract was still in his briefcase unsigned. He wouldn’t have, not if she was a client, he had a rule for his operatives and for himself, but she wasn’t a client and she was beautiful.
LJ truly was a lover of women, there’s a Chinese Proverb, “Panties aren’t the best thing on Earth but they are next to the best thing on Earth,” LJ totally agreed, and Marilyn didn’t even have panties on.
He moved her off his lap, stood and stripped then lay on the bed beside her and opened her robe.
“Your breasts are beautiful, Marilyn,” and they were, conical, tipped with pink areolas and even pinker nipples.”
“I feel like a fraud LJ, he made me feel like a fraud, the breasts aren’t mine, my plastic surgeon built them, my honey blonde hair, not nature, my hairdresser keeps it like that for me, I’m really mousy brown and he was going to make me show him, he wanted to see my mons veneris, I’m mousy brown there there’s even a little gray, I tweeze them but it’s becoming a losing battle, you see, I am a fraud.”
“No Marilyn, not a fraud, you’re forty-seven, not twenty-five, nature has her way with all of us, and of course these are your breasts, I mean after all, you bought and paid for them didn’t you.”
She gave a little chuckle, just what he’d hoped for with his comment, a little levity,
“Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess they are mine.”
“May I kiss them?”
She took a deep sigh, “Please kiss them, kiss me, make love to me LJ, please make love to me.”
He started with her lips, full, soft yielding to his kiss, he tasted her breath, sweet and clean then he moved down, worshiping her breasts, sucking and tugging on one nipple while he massaged her other, circling her nipple, teasing her, Marilyn’s sweet breath became raspy,
“Oh yes, that feels so nice.”
He attended to the other breast in its turn then kissed down, over her flat stomach, across her curly mound to her slit.
He opened her with his fingers, she’d perfumed herself between her thighs, he got that scent, it was nice but not so nice as the redolence of an aroused woman, LJ’s favorite aroma, he inhaled, then he tasted, sweeter than honey, her essence, she was lubricating heavily, anticipating what was to come, he sampled her nectar. LJ used his tongue, along both of her labium then up her vulva to the top.
The tip of her clitoris shown with an opaline glimmer, he took it between his lips. Marilyn was panting he sucked her gem into his mouth, sucking her clit while his tongue flicked rapidly across her tip.
Marilyn began to tremble as her orgasm washed through her body she clamped her thighs around his head, holding him to her as her fragrant fluids gushed, with each contraction more of her precious liquid, LJ drank her in, taking all she could offer, when her flow slowed he glanced up at her and gave her a little smile.
“God LJ I needed that now fill me, I want you in me.”
He slid up between her thighs, ran his cock along her slit, entered her and pushed forward, she was tight for a forty-seven year old woman, not like an eighteen year old but tight, hot, liquid and smooth, all the way in and he pumped her, Marilyn pulled her legs up, grabbed the backs of her thighs, pulled her knees clear back against her chest, wide open.
“Pound me Paladin, fuck me hard, cum in me, I want to feel your cum in me, boiling, hot, fuck me,” she implored.
LJ obliged, he got high on her, thrusting almost downward, her vagina pushing against her bowel, his cock hitting her clit with every stroke, he fucked her, powerful thrusts, ramming into her, ratcheting, driving stabbing, as far as he could get into her. He was grunting with the effort, she was grunting as her womanhood was pounded,
Her, “Ungh, ungh, ungh,” music, contrasting with his own, “Unh, unh, unh,” driving into her.
She reached between her legs, fingers dancing across her clitoris, she helped herself. Her trembling started, her vagina clutched him just as he erupted, his cock was jerking in her, spewing load after load of his ropy cum, she clutched, her contractions, he spewed.
The both finished, “God LJ I needed that.”
He loved the moments after sex, post-coital gentle words, hers were, “Bring me the contract, you’re hired, the check’s on the dresser.”
Not exactly what he’d expected, still, music to his ears; money.
He put on his clothes and went downstairs, got his briefcase and headed back up, Marilyn had her robe back on and was sitting at her little writing desk, she took the contract, signed and handed him her check for the five thousand.
“Marilyn, I’ll have someone here by noon tomorrow, someone to stay with you ‘til this is over, ok?”
“I’ll keep things locked up tight until then.”
“Do that, only Sol, me or my operative gets in, she’ll use a password, pick one, she’ll use that to let you know it’s ok to let her in.”
“Her, I thought I’d get some burley muscleman. Use Ethel as the password, that was my mother’s name.”
“Ok, Ethel it is. And don’t worry about your bodyguard, I’m sure you’ll be impressed, she’s Oriental, maybe 5 foot one and a hundred pounds soaking wet but if I needed protection I’d choose her, her name’s Mary Loo, she’ll be here before noon.”
After a stop at the hospital to get Angelo’s nose set the three of them were in Dancer’s office, he asked Tony to join them.
“I want to know who that Paladin guy is, Tony, get on that first thing in the morning, he said his name is LJ Paladin, find out about him.”
“I’m gonna leave Goldfarb on the back burner for a couple of days, that other thing’s going down and I gotta prioritize.”
“Now get outta here, I got a meeting in a few minutes. Tony, tell Cherry she can take off, I’d like you to hang around for a while.”
Between the stop at the hospital, waiting for Angelo to get fixed up and the meeting LJ had been able to make it back. He was in the coffee shop, watching the building when Cherry came.
He played a hunch, thought maybe he could get a little information, he hustled across the street, came up behind her.
“Hi again,” he said, “Aren’t you Mr. Dancer’s secretary?”
She gave him a blank stare then he saw her remembering him, “Yeah, I’m Cherry; you’re the guy that came by without an appointment aren’t you?”
“I plead guilty, that was me, by the way, my name’s LJ Paladin, and you are?”
“Cherry Delight, I’m Cherry Delight.”
“Well Cherry it is a delight to make your acquaintance; may I buy you a drink?”
She thought about it for a moment, stranger and all, what the hell, life’s a risk, “Sure Paladin, like the old cowboy my old man used to watch, that Paladin?”
“Just like him, come on, this is a pretty nice lounge, I’ve been here before.”
He led her to a booth, secluded, dark, she sat, he sat next to her, their hips met, she didn’t move.
The waitress came over Cherry ordered a Cosmopolitan; LJ got three fingers of a single malt scotch, Glenfiddich. The waitress returned with their drinks and a water chaser for LJ. He didn’t use it, he savored the smoky malt and enjoyed the little burn as it went down, he sipped slowly, he was only going to have one.
“So, Cherry, how long have you been Mr. Dancer’s secretary?”
“Two years and I don’t want to talk about Dandy, you’re a friend, I might say something that could get me in trouble.”
“Cherry, I didn’t say I was a friend, in fact, I’ve only met him once and that was just a couple of hours ago.”
“A couple of hours ago; then you’re the one that messed up Angelo, right?”
“The big one, I would say I was responsible, yes, I did that.”
“You took on all three of them?”
“Well I can’t say it was a fair fight, Joe went down with a severe headache before he even knew I was there, I’m afraid Angelo took a foot in the face and Dandy needs to be a little faster, I outdrew him.”
“Well you sure messed Angelo up.”
“I was trying Cherry, I was trying.”
“Paladin, please don’t call me Cherry, that’s the name I danced under when I worked the clubs, my name is Gretchen Ziolkowski, a little Polish girl from Brooklyn. I don’t want to be Cherry Delight any more; I want to be Gretchen again, go back to Brooklyn and try to start over.”
“So do it.”
“I can’t, I can’t leave Dandy, he won’t let me.”
“Gretchen, he doesn’t own you, you can leave, just do it, get on a subway and go home.”
“You don’t understand Paladin, he might as well own me, all of us, he pays good, my Mom’s in late stage Alzheimer’s, Pops takes care of her, I send a little money but he’s her caregiver. Dandy never threatens, he says things like, Cherry it’s a real shame about your mother, would be a real tragedy if something happened to your Dad, you know a heart attack or a bad fall, something like that, he couldn’t take care of her, guess she’d get sent to some hospital to wither away.”
“You said all of us, what do you mean?”
“Dandy’s got six clubs, all of his managers are women, late thirties, early forties, started out as dancers in the clubs, got to old to dance, he made them managers, they’re good with the girls, know how to keep them in line. Dandy has something he can use against every one of us, like my Pops, something so we endure it, no choice.”
“Endure what Gretchen?”
“Me, mostly his blow jobs, he gets tense, he wants a BJ, right there at his desk, mostly that’s what he wants from me unless I screw up, then it’s to his private room. Behind his office there’s a bedroom and a bathroom, I screw up, I’m back there.”
“What the hell does he do to you Gretchen?”
“Paladin, Dandy’s a sadist, a sexual sadist, he likes it when he’s causing pain, he’s got this whip thing, a riding crop, he makes get on the bed, on hands and knees and he whips us, on the back, on the thighs and especially on the butt then he fucks us, butt fucks, no lube just to hear us scream. He likes it that the sheets are bloody when he quits. I know what he does, I try to prepare, if I know I’m going in the room with him I get up and go to the lady’s, I keep a six pack of Astroglide Shooters in my desk, I prepare, understand?”
He nodded his understanding.
“Paladin, you gotta understand, I only get that if I screw up, the others, they don’t have to do anything, he has me call them, tell them they’ve got a meeting with him that night, seven, eight o’clock. They come in, I leave, he doesn’t keep me there, only Tony stays. He drives him to one of his clubs after he’s done, drops him off, Joe and Angelo, they’ll already be there, they take him home, pick him up the next morning, Dandy doesn’t like to drive.”
‘If I could help, maybe find a way to get you free of him…
“You help me; I’ll help you; feel like taking a lady to dinner, I’ll tell you what I know?”
“Her mouth said talk but that’s not what her eyes were saying. Marilyn had been fun but Gretchen was a hottie, that old Chinese proverb.
“Gretchen, I’ve got a suite at the Gladstone Hotel, why don’t we go up there, have dinner sent up.”
“I think I might like that Paladin, I think I’d like that a lot.”
“What would you like to eat; I’ll phone it in, have it ready a few minutes after we get there?”
They settled on filet mignons, baked potatoes, asparagus and a bottle of 2001 Beringer Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon.
Then we walked back to get the Porsche.
During dinner he learned a little more.
“So, counting you there’s seven of you that he takes into that room, right?’
“No, there’s one more, there’s eight of us.”
“Who’s the eighth?”
“Helen, Helen Metz, she comes in the most. Usually during the day, she’s haughty and snooty to me then. She’s a CPA, she keeps the money straight at the clubs, I think she handles all his money and Dandy’s got more than just the clubs so she’s in two maybe three times a week.”
“So she’s important to him, right.”
“I guess but he must have something on her too, ‘cause couple times a month, sometimes more Dandy has me call her, tell her to come in that evening. She’s there more than any of the managers, at least every other week, and she’s not so high and mighty when she comes in then, she’s scared, I know the look, I get it sometimes if I know I’m going to the room.”
He’d finally learned something important, something he might be able to use; he needed to meet Helen Metz. He asked Gretchen if she knew where Helen lived. She didn’t but she knew her phone number, she’d called it enough times. She got the pad the hotel supplied off the desk, wrote it down, tore of the page and handed it to him, he’d have one of his cop buddies get him the address in the morning.
“She’ll be home tomorrow for sure, Dandy’s got her up there right now, she won’t feel like doing anything besides stay in bed tomorrow.”
“Why, do you feel like staying in bed the next day?”
“Paladin, I feel like staying in bed right now, you wanta?”
He stood, took her hands and pulled her up, she was wearing a dress, zippered up the back down to the waist, he pulled it down and took the dress from her shoulders, then unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts, pretty she had an almost milk white complexion, creamy skin dotted with small freckles, like on her nose, He kissed them. Then helped her out of the dress, she had a thong, lilac with a purple bow at the top, he took it off. She really was a pretty girl, and her strawberry blonde was natural, he cupped her sex, parted with a finger and kissed her, she was already wet.
She stepped back from him saying “My turn.”
She undressed him and backed him up to the bed, with a gentle shove she pushed him to the mattress, he caught himself on his elbows.
“Just lie back and enjoy Big Boy, Gretchen’s the best.”
With that, she fell on him, her mouth enveloped his erection and she bobbed, using her tongue, licking him as she went up and down. She could take it all in, gave him a little hum then up and down again. She’d get him to the edge then back off, take him up again then let him down a little, four, five times, he tried to grab her hard, hold her on him, she shook him off, came up for air, said, “This is for you Gretchen wants hers too, I want you in me, got a rubber?”
He thought, thank God, she’d asked; no way was he going to eat her and no way was he going bareback, he figured Dancer’d been there and God knew who else, “In the drawer there.”
He kept this suite year ‘round, for entertaining clients away from the office, for guests and for the occasional date, like tonight, he had clothes in the closet, shaving gear in the bathroom and condoms in the night stand.
She rolled it on, swung her leg over him and mounted him, sliding all the way down with only the slightest, “Unnnn,” as she settled.
Young, hot, animated, she bounced on him like old Dale Evans riding Buttermilk, up and down, up and down, grinding her bottom against him then up again, faster, faster,
“Play with my clit, play with my clit.”
He reached between her legs, gave her three fingers to ride for her while she rode him, he rubbed her faster, harder, she ground into him harder, faster, he was ready to fill the rubber when she slammed down on him and stopped, little quivers coursed through her, no big explosion, little quiver, little orgasm, little squeeze from her contraction, again and again, four maybe five times, he filled the rubber while she quivered.
Finally, “Damn that was good for me, how about you?”
“The best Gretchen, the best,” maybe not the best fuck ever but as a fellatrix she was world class.
He was still on the bed; Gretchen had gone to the bathroom, when the phone rang. It almost had to be one of his operatives, no one else had this number, he answered.
“LJ, can I see you tonight, at your place.”
“Hello Mary, I was going to call you in the morning, I’ve got a job for you, but sure, you can come over, it’ll be around eleven when I get there, if you’re there before I get there use your key, go on in.”
When Gretchen came out he gave her cab fare, told again that she was the greatest and promised that he’d help her get away from Dancer. After she’d left he showered and dressed.
He sat poured himself a couple fingers of single malt and sat down, thinking of Mary Loo.
He’d met Mary when he was on the cops, just before he’d gotten his gold shield. They’d become lovers, partners for nearly two years. He still felt closer to her than to any other woman he’d ever know, maybe not passionate love, but close.
Mary was half Chinese, born in Hong Kong, she never knew who her father was, some nameless U.S. GI, on R&R from ‘Nam. Her mother and aunts raised her. When she was in her early teens they’d relocated to the tumultuous chaos that is Chinatown here in the City.
Mary has a gorgeous yellow complexion, smooth, flawless, she’s in her late twenties, five one, one hundred pounds if that, but it’s a hundred pounds of trained muscle, Mary has black belts in at least four styles of Oriental fighting, she carries a little two shot Derringer in her purse, a Cobra .22 magnum it’s there if she needs but she’s most deadly with the knife, her working name is Blade. Not some Crocodile Dundee Bowie, hers is a little Randall Made “Gambler,” four inches of handcrafted steel, sharp as a razor, she has three sheaths, depending how she’s dressed, ankle sheath if she’s in slacks, arm sheath if she’s wearing long sleeves, and a sheath she can wear like a garter, inside her thigh if she’s in a dress. She’s a little thing but, in a knife fight, I’d lose and I’m no slouch.
But if she’s calling at night, this late and if she needs to see me, now, not later, now, then she’s suffering. Suffering from the thing that finally broke us up, she wanted too much of what I didn’t want to give, she wanted to suffer; her evil spirit had paid her a visit.
Lord Yama King, Greatest of the Lords of Death in Chinese mythology. Yeng-Wang-Yeh judges all souls newly arrived to the land of the dead and decides whether to send them to a special court for punishment or put them back on the Wheel of Transmigration.
He comes for her in her dreams, she has to exorcise him, it’s the need for the exorcism that became too much for me. I’ll do it for her, I’ll do it tonight, she’s my friend, for Mary I’ll do it, he thought.
He took the elevator down, got his Porsche and drove to his high rise condo, parked in the underground garage and took the elevation up to his ninetieth floor aerie.
When he entered the condo Mary was waiting, standing at the window, from ninety floors above, gazing at the billion lights that illuminate our City, the flashing neon signs, the revolving domes on prowl cars in pursuit, looking but not really seeing, pensive, lost in thought. She heard him come in and turned.
“Hi LJ, hope I didn’t interrupt.”
She was stunningly beautiful, her waist length raven hair hung freely down her back, she was attired in a traditional Chinese dress, high collared and cap sleeved, black, to her ankles, slit up one side to mid thigh, decorated with a golden dragon, it clung to like a second skin, she had to be naked underneath. She was balanced on four inch stiletto heels, black shoes.
Lithe as a tigress she sashayed across the floor to him, put her face up, waiting for his kiss. He did, he kissed her lips and looked inquiringly into her eyes, the question, not verbalized but asked just the same.
“I’m sorry LJ but he came for me last night, Yeng-Wang-Yeh and again he didn’t take me, you know what I want, what I need.”
When they’d lived together LJ had urged her to seek professional help. She’d refused, she was a product of Hong Kong and Chinatown, she believed in Yeng-Wang-Yeh, how does a psychologist help against something that is real, actual to her and terrifying, now, she needed her catharsis, her release from his grasp.
He led her to his bedroom and pulled out a straight backed chair. Mary waited, he knelt, unbuckled her shoes, she stepped out, her feet were bare, she wasn’t wearing stockings. He unzipped the back of her dress and helped her take it off. She stood before him, naked, fantastic, breathtakingly beautiful.
He sat, she walked to his side and bent across his lap, her pain, she needed her pain, her penance the only thing saving her from Yeng-Wang-Yeh’s grasp, how could he judge against her, she’d done penance. She waited.
Duty he thought, once up on a time he’d enjoyed having her across his lap, a little spanking, a prelude to sex, but she’d taken it too seriously, it wasn’t foreplay to Mary, it was salvation.
He cracked her tiny bottom, Thwack, Thwack, Thwack, firm strokes, strokes designed to create pain, to elicit tears. Mary wanted to cry, it was his job to make it so, he hit her again and again, slap, slap, slap, up and down her bottom, first the right side top to thighs then up, the left, thighs to top, five hard smacks on her sit spots, his hand bridged both cheeks, finally he heard it, gentle sobbing, five more hard across her bottom, a russet glow to her flesh, a moan from Mary, “Unnnnnnnnn,” her soft scent filled the room, not just mental relief, she so sought a sexual release. He touched her leg, she opened her thighs, and held her, his thumb against her anus, two fingers in her vagina, he pumped her gently, she was slick with her own juices, he lubricated his thumb then pressed again, Mary moaned, a quiet “Unnnn,” as he penetrated her. He pumped her, front and back until she started to grind her groin against his.
He withdrew his fingers and thumb, stood her up, picked her up and carried her to bed, curling to the mattress he brought her down on top of him and kissed her, the passionate kiss that lovers share, speaking of their intimate past and the intimacies they’d share in the future, when she needed him he’d be there for her, as close to love as he’d ever felt for a woman, that’s how he felt for Mary and he knew she loved him.
He rolled, her back on the mattress, him over her, their lips broke, he kissed down her front, her tiny perfect breasts, quarter sized brown areolas, gum drop sized nipples, absolute perfection in miniature, that was Mary Loo and down, her mound was sparsely covered when compared to a western woman, her hairs black as night, her slit evident, her little jewel poking from between her labia, he opened her with his tongue, her familiar taste, her remembered scent, Paladin craved it, tongue snaking along her vulva, licking her lubrication, mildly spicy, he thought of it as the taste of the Orient, he settled on her clit, she was swollen, blood engorged, tender, sensitive, he sucked her in, Mary gasped, so sensitive, he flicked her tip, her precious pearl, she shivered, her body responding, quivering, shaking as her orgasm builds, almost spastically her tremors, she flows, like the Yalu, my Chinese beauty flows like a river and he was like the sea, taking in all that flows from her, drinking at her Golden Chalice, her nectar, her essence, he takes it all, not a drop of her precious fluid escapes his lips.
He rose between her legs, on his knees.
“Ah LJ you have drunk Yeng-Wang-Yeh from my vagina, now you must purge him from my bowels.”
Mary Loo moved a pillow to the edge of the bed, he stood waiting, she lay with her hips on the pillow, her feet pulled up near her hips, so lithe, so agile, she positioned her small bottom at the very edge. LJ moved to her, she’d already lubricated herself, he’d felt her slickness with his thumb.
Perfect muscle control, hours spent training her body to respond to her commands, she commanded herself to relax, he slid in, just a firm press, she opened like a rose coming into flower, from rosebud to full bloom, he pushed forward, Mary groaned slightly, just a low,
“Unnnn,” and he was in her completely, she smiled, “Yes, LJ now chase him away.”
She wanted his hard thrusts, he did, face to face, he pounded up into her, deep into her bowels, and faster harder making her make noise as she accepted him, low quiet grunts each time he powered into her,
“Unh, unh, unh,” each stroke bringing forth her sounds.
Mary was such a small woman, so incredibly tight to begin with now she used her muscle control, squeezing LJ’s penis with her sphincter muscles, masturbating him with her anus, she’d had her orgasm, now it was for him, with her intensity, constricting him the friction was tremendous, LJ climaxed, spewing deep in Mary’s guts, filling her with his steaming spunk, pumping more and more into her ‘til he was drained, she gave him a couple of squeezes for good measure, getting the last drop. He softened and pulled out.
“Now LJ,” she smiled, “I feel wonderful, I’m purged. Again you’ve saved me.”
He knew she was laughing at herself, her weird beliefs, but he was pleased that she was happy.
“And now my love, I must go.”
LJ knew she wouldn’t shower, not yet, she wanted to keep his cum in her, at least for a little while.
“Mary when you’re dressed, come out to the living room, I mentioned an assignment, I’d like you to start tomorrow.”
She hadn’t been wearing her knife, she took it from her handbag and affixed it to her thigh then pulled her dress back on and stepped into her shoes, she bent, buckled them and went to get her directions. LJ explained the situation to her and gave her phone numbers and directions; she’d be at Marilyn’s before noon.
At the Goldfarb residence it wasn’t the love-in that LJ had been enjoying. When Sol had gotten home Marilyn was in a robe and slippers, Sol thought that if he was amorous Marilyn might forgive him, he gave her a kiss and slid his hand into her robe.
Sol was a little surprised to find her naked, he cupped her sex and felt the goo.
Sol knew that Marilyn had her occasional tryst, but so did he, his Vegas and Atlantic City junkets, he always made time for the ladies, there was even one the city he visited from time to time. It certainly wasn’t love; he loved Marilyn, no other woman. No his assignations were purely business transactions, cash on the barrel head for pussy or mouth.
But Marilyn was in her robe, what ever had happened had happened here under his roof, he started to say something. She cut him off with a look.
“Your friends came back Sol, they were here in my home, they tore my clothes off and held me down on the dining room table.”
She said no more. He thought he was feeling the residue of her rape. She said nothing to disabuse him of that idea. It was chilly in the Goldfarb bedroom that night.
The morning started early in Dancer’s office, Joe and Angelo had driven him to his office, Tony was already there.
“Ok Tony, what about this Paladin guy, what’d you find out?”
“Honestly Dandy, not as much as I’d like, but maybe enough.
First, I’d have to say he’s a tough bastard, he did ten years in the Navy, was a SEAL with team 2 based in Little Creek, Virginia. He served in Desert Storm, got shot then saved a couple of other SEALs, I didn’t get all the details but he got a Purple Heart for his wound and the Navy Cross for whatever he did. Anyway, like I said he did ten years then got out, he was a Chief Petty Officer when he decided not to re-up.
He got on with the City cops, spent three years in uniform then got his Gold Shield, was a homicide dick for two years then moved on, started Paladin Protective Services. He’s got an Associates of Science in Criminal Justice from John Jay, went while he was in uniform.
That’s about where it stops. He doesn’t advertise for business, it’s all referral, I found that out from a lawyer I know. Told me he’s picky about the jobs he takes and he’s expensive but he’s the best, he said Paladin does not fail, not ever.
There doesn’t seem to be a way to get a hook into him either, I couldn’t find any family, no girlfriends, nothing, he’s got a high rise condo somewhere in the city but I couldn’t even find it, he’s not in property tax records, after that, I couldn’t find shit.”
“Ok, we’re gonna leave him alone for a while, just like Goldfarb, this other thing’s comin’ down in just a couplea days, we’ll get them both dealt with after.”
“Now beat it, I’m feeling a little tense. Tony, tell Cherry to come in here, I need to maybe relax a little.”
LJ’s day started early, too. He phoned a buddy on the cops, got him to run the phone number he had for Helen Metz, got her address.
He cranked up the Porsche and headed north, out of the City. Hey, maybe she’d offer him coffee, he’d be early enough.
He found the house easily enough, nice home, tree lined street, mature trees, big shady areas, Helen Metz’ home was immaculate from the outside, lawns manicured, flower gardens, mulched, no weeds, cute, girly geegaws hanging from the porch, wind chimes that kinda stuff, he rang the bell.
It took a few minutes but she answered.
“Yes,” pained she was bent, holding herself like she was gonna fall apart.
“You’re Helen Mertz, right, Dandy Dancer, well I wanted to talk to a CPA, you know.”
No lies, not now, maybe not ever but a little deception. He saw the fright in her eyes at the mentioned of Dancer’s name.
“Yes, well come in,” she walked toward the back of the house, “Would you like a cup of coffee.”
Bingo he thought, I do get coffee.
“How do you like it Mr., I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“I didn’t give it, by the way, black then please sit down; I’d like to talk to you.”
She placed the cup on a saucer in front of him; it was a delicate china cup, not a mug, bone china.
“My name is Paladin, LJ Paladin, call me LJ or call me Paladin, your choice.”
“Well Mr. Palad…
“Nope, Paladin or LJ, no Mister, ok,” he gave her a little smile.
“Ok LJ, so you’re a friend of Mr. Dancer’s. I’m surprised, yes I am a CPA but he’s always insisted that I work for him exclusively, so forgive me if I’m a little surprised.”
“Helen, may I call you Helen,” he waited for her nod then went on, “Whatever gave you the idea that Dandy Dancer sent me here and that he approved of you adding me as a client?”
“I apologize, maybe I wasn’t clear, I said Dandy Dancer then I said I wanted to talk to a CPA. All that’s true, I want to talk to a CPA, you Helen, I want to talk to you about Dandy Dancer.”
Helen was an intelligent woman, degree from Columbia and a CPA, she felt that she was being conned.
“Exactly who are you Mr. Paladin, exactly who are you?”
“Helen, I’m your last best hope. If you’ll work with me we can take him down, he’s a monster from all I’ve learned but we can beat him.”
“No Mr. Paladin, he can’t be beaten, a lot of men have tried; they just aren’t around any more, he’ll eat you up like a soft Danish. I’m sorry but I can’t help you, as much as I’d like, I can’t help you.”
“Then help you Helen, what is it that he holds over you? You’re an intelligent woman, CPA and all, and you’re sharp witted, you picked right up on my con, what’s he got on you, why not just leave, join an established firm, start your own private practice, you could do it.”
“Ah, hell, LJ, you can be LJ again; I have a little sister, I’m thirty-seven, she’s twenty, a sophomore at Columbia, my alma mater, she went there because I did, she wants to major in business law, make a bundle on the Street of marry an investment banker, live happily ever after in the lap of luxury, that’s her dream, not mine, maybe I’m a little more pragmatic but then I’ve seen a little more of the world, I know about the hurts and pains. But anyway, Dandy pays me well, with our seventeen year age difference I’m more like a mother that a sister, I helped raise her and now I’m putting her through Columbia.”
“Helen, you could make good money someplace else, you don’t have to work for Dancer.”
“No, that’s where you’ve got it wrong, if I try to leave Dandy I won’t have a little sister to help. “Be a shame if anything happened to Mandy, Mandy’s my sister’s name, be a real shame if something happened to her but you know the streets here in the city, she could get raped, maybe even killed. You tell her to be real careful, for me, tell her Helen.”
Just like with Gretchen, the threat unstated but implied, LJ knew things about Dancer, the women had every reason to be fearful.
“Helen I can match him gun for gun and my people are better, he’d lose but I don’t want to have to take him down that way, if it comes to it I will. Hell one of my people is a little Chinese girl, she could take Dancer, Angelo and Joe with one hand tied behind her back and never uses a gun. When she’s working she’s “Blade,” with her little four inch blade she’d castrate all three of those goons. She’s guarding Marilyn Goldfarb right now.”
“Sol Goldfarb’s wife, that’s who you’re working for, Sol Goldfarb?”
“No, I’m working for Marilyn, she’s a good lady, deserves more than Sol, but Dancer and his men have visited her twice.”
LJ told her what Marilyn had had to endure, the two attacks, the debasement and humiliation of the first, the near rape of the second. He downplayed his intervention, only said that they’d stopped and left when he’d asked them to.
She gave him a rueful smile, “So you’re the reason I feel like I do today, it was you. God LJ he was pissed last night, Joe was somewhere in outer space, couldn’t think straight and Angelo looked like he went a couple a rounds with an eight hundred pound gorilla, you did that, how?”
“I’ve had just a little training, Joe caught an elbow kite to his temple and Angelo, well I used a spinning side kick, caught him flush in the face with a steel capped shoe.”
“And Dandy just stood there and watched?”
“Well maybe for the first second or two, you know, kinda shocked, then he reached for his Glock, my Sig was a little faster, I asked him to drop his, he was kind enough to oblige. Joe was starting to move around, he still had his weapons, my steel cap put him back to sleep. I gathered up Joes stuff, his Glock and his Fairburn Sykes dagger, Angelo’s Glock and Dandy’s Glocks and let them leave, asked them real nice not to come back. I hope they take my advice, if Blade’s there she won’t be so forgiving.”
“You really could, you could take him down, kill him, you could do that?”
“In a New York minute Sugar, in a New York minute; he’s only met me, not Blade and not my other associates. I may be the softest touch, City cops, “Protect and Serve,” all that. My other two guys, they’re retired SEALS, their motto is “The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday.” that means we got through yesterday, we’ll deal with whatever today brings. They were trained and trained others that are members of the most elite fighting force the world has ever known. I had to civilize them a little before I put them in the streets, they’re military not police and there’s a big, big difference. Cops, you think they treat the civilians a little rough, and I concede, sometimes they do, but most cops really do think “Protect and Serve,” not the military and the deadliest of our military is a SEAL, big City cop, two hundred twenty pound Irishman, little SEAL, ‘bout like me, five nine, buck eighty, the cop, if he’s real, real lucky survives ‘bout two seconds, gun, knife, hand to hand, doesn’t matter, big cop is history, that’s just how it is, you fuck with a SEAL, you lose.”
“You really think you can do it don’t you LJ?”
“No Sugar, I know I can do it but I think it would be easier with your help.”
“Oh yeah, LJ, with my help we really could get him and never have to use a knife or a gun, I know his secrets, all of his secrets, see I know where the money is.”
“LJ, I’m putting my life in your hands, you fail, I die, a real painful death but I die, maybe my little sister, too, right in front of me before I get to join her in the hereafter, I want you to understand what I’m risking just talking to you.”
“Helen, I can protect you, I can have one of my operatives covering you 24/7, ok?”
“LJ, I never want to see one of your people, if my idea’s gonna work it’ll be deception, I don’t want to get hurt, if you should fail, he’ll take it out on me, sure, but I want to be blameless, come on, I’ll tell you how, right now, show me that your fingers are as smooth as your tongue.”
“Come on, follow me, we’ll talk in there.”
She led him to the bedroom, took off her robe and flopped face down on the bed, she had only her panties covering her, not silk but sexy, Victoria’s Secret or Fredericks of Hollywood. She noted his stare.
“Yes, I know, I’m a straight laced bitch, a harsh, numbers person, a CPA, accountant for the most notorious man in the City but I’m a woman LJ, I like the feel of soft panties caressing me, satin, silk, lace, under my dark suits, my severe pant suits, I like the feel. Do you like the look, can you see me as a woman LJ or am I just a source, a way to get to Dandy?”
He’d only gotten a glimpse before she’d flopped on the bed but from behind he had no complaints, no complaints at all, she had a tight little bubble butt, ideal for caressing, even better for making love to, his frontal view, quick as it was, her panties were French cut, leg holes almost to the elastic of the waist band, pulled up into her crotch, a nice camel toe, then she’d gone face down, he was looking at her back.
“There’s some Aloe lotion on the night stand, it helps but I can’t reach my back. Rub some on, gently, I hurt, we can talk while you do that.”
He picked up the lotion bottle, took some between his palms, warmed it with his body heat and gently smoothed it over her back, he was careful and he was gentle, she looked like someone had played a hundred games of tick tack toe on the same piece of paper, criss cross of slash marks, most viscous red wed welts, some festering open cuts.
He slathered on the Aloe asked, “Helen, do you have some peroxide or something like that, you’ve got some cuts that are getting infected.”
She told him where to find it.
He noted this wasn’t the first time, not the fifth, not even the twentieth, older wounds laced her back, she’d been enduring this, the beating for months, maybe even years.
He wanted to hold her, tell her everything would be alright; he was a protector, he was Paladin, the successor to the television character, the older generation all identified him with Richard Boone, the star of the old TV show but he didn’t, the TV character was just that, a TV character, his name taken, his task taken from a much earlier time, the true Paladins, knights-errant; distinguished champions; as, defenders of the faith for Charlemagne’s Holy Roman Empire. True knight; romantic, perhaps, but that was LJ’s mission in life, defend the defenseless.
“LJ, you got a good computer guy?”
“Hey, Sugar, just like all my people, I got the best.”
“I told you, LJ, my life’s in your hands, I’m dead, but I can tell you how to take him down if your computer guy’s good enough.”
“Like I said, he’s the best.”
Her voice changed, fear, anticipation, arousal, not sure, but she said, “Take my panties off, I hurt there, too.”
Her apricot colored French cut briefs slid over the succulent mounds, like small ripe cantaloupes, her cute bubble butt. She was striped there, too. Now that she was bare he could see, the wicked red slash marks ran from just above the back of her knees up, almost to her shoulders.
He slathered the soothing Aloe on her bottom, cute bottom he thought and totally fuckable, maybe, maybe, he’d see.
He set the Aloe lotion on the night stand, went to her bathroom and got the peroxide. Paused for a moment, he could smell her in the room, her scent hung in the air, she tried to be cold, demanding, but where she bathed, where sat while she brushed hair, where she bared herself, her urine cascading in a golden flow, her scent, particular to her, one woman’s, that woman’s she was a sexual being, ********, pheromones, her scent, suddenly, he was overcome with desire.
He bathed her wounds, she wiggled from the chill of the peroxide then she turned, rolled over onto her back. He was able to see her, all of her radiant glory, the hair on her head, usually so severely styled, not here, not in Paladin’s view, a reddish brown, chestnut, wild curls, not shaved, not trimmed.
“You like?” She asked, in a low, voice, little girl voice, almost like she expected rejection.
“I like, I’d love a taste.”
“Next time and there will be a next time if we get this done but tonight, now I want to feel a cock in me, a man’s cock, breeding me; oh, Paladin, no, I was just expressing how I feel, I want a man who wants me, Helen Metz, a man who doesn’t want to beat me, not hurt me, it’s been so long, so very long.”
Helen was already wet, waiting, he found her sweet spot and plunged in, thirty-seven, her pussy was as tight as if she was fifteen, unabused, her vagina, underutilized, tight, Dancer used her body, whipped her unmercifully but sexually he’d left her alone, here she was only two or three steps from virginity, she clutched at him as he pumped her.
As tight as she was, Paladin knew she had to be feeling him, he was stretching her, deeper into her vagina than anyone ever had been, not that he was huge, he wasn’t, about seven inches, maybe a little above average but not much, no, but he was fat, hit all the sidewalls, five and a quarter inches around, like a short Coke can, he didn’t stretch them deep but he widened them and Helen seemed to like it wide.
She started panting and chanting,
“God damned LJ, fuck me, God damned LJ, fuck me, God damned, Ooooooooooooh, yeah, fuck me.”
He did, he wanted her to like it, want more. He lifted himself, rode her high, his cock hitting her clitoris with every stroke, treating her like a desirable woman, the desirable woman that she truly was, maybe she’d been cold, she wasn’t now, she spread her legs further yet, she opened like a butterfly emerging from it’s chrysalis, ready to take wing, to fly, she wanted to fly, she wanted to be a woman, a desirable woman, he pumped her hard, making her feel him, his thrusts, deep into her tight vagina, faster and faster he went, she went along for the ride, her pussy was flowing, lubricating like she never had, wet, wild wonderful, she’d never been there before, his cock, so intense, hitting her little gem, her clitoris, the tip, so ignored, only her fingers, now, oh God, every stroke, every stroke, she thought something in her tummy had burst, her female organs, all of them, uterus, vagina, they all flooded out between her legs, you bastard, Paladin, you bastard, you’re sucking me out of me and then she couldn’t think, she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t make out her own incoherent sounds, thirty-seven, thirty-seven years old, a tight assed CPA, she’d nearly fainted, ecstasy, feelings unimaginable had coursed through her, her belly, her abdomen and, yes, her cunt, it didn’t feel like a vagina right then, it was a cunt, that had cried for a man, wept it’s fragrant juices, Paladin had stopped the crying, the weeping, between her legs, wanting, wanting a man and a man was there, oh God, what a man. Lust, love, she didn’t care, she wanted him back in her bed, her pussy needed him, even her poor abused bottom would welcome him, a few hours, once, only once and she’d given herself to him.
She took a deep breath, she needed to talk, he was still in her, softening but he didn’t fuck and run, he was still between her legs, smiling at her, leaning forward, a little kiss, making her feel like a woman, a special and appreciated woman.
“LJ, I know how we can do it, not sex, not now, business again, we’re gonna have to move money fast, out of the Caymans, around the world, in one account, out minutes later, spatter it over six continents, anywhere we can move money, Panama to Vanuatu, gotta move it and move it fast. It’s not like the FBI will be chasing us but still…
And there is one account, his club operating account, maybe a million there, transfer it to one of his own accounts in the Caymans, we can get that, too but transfer it to one of his accounts before we grab it. No bank fraud here in the U.S., nothing to interest the Feds. He’s got five accounts in the Caymans and he’s got a big deal, his biggest ever going down tomorrow, fifteen million, Paco Hernandez, one of the big guys in the Mexican cartels, the deal is $15,000,000 for 3250 pounds of crystal meth, Dandy’s got it lined up, the cookers get ten mil, Dandy makes five, no risk, the cookers and the sellers, yeah, sure, but Dandy never touches the product, just the cash, $5,000, 000, sweet, don’t you think LJ?”
“Yeah it’s sweet, how do we get to him?”
“Put me together with your computer guy, start opening accounts tomorrow morning, I’ve got the account numbers for his five in the Caymans and his one here in the U.S. the cash will be coming into those accounts day after tomorrow, get me with your guy, we’ll move the cash out. But you gotta, I mean you gotta give me an out. Your other guys, they gotta torch his safe, there’ll be cash and some gold in there, they gotta steal that, make it look like a heist. The account numbers and access codes are in there, too. Keep him distracted, the cash and the gold, maybe buy us another hour or two but the money’s gotta be gone by then.”
“So, how much we talking about Sugar?”
“Well the fifteen mil that the Mexicans are sending, one of these accounts is his rat hole, there if he ever has to run, figure ten mil in that one, the others, I don’t know, another ten at least and the U.S. account at least a million, Add it up, bottom end, thirty-six million, maybe more. And Paladin, I want five, I’m worth it, my information is solid gold, minimum thirty-six million, maybe more, I want five.”
“I’ll go with that but only one condition.”
“That you let me back in your bed again, you’re a spectacular woman, once ain’t near enough.”
She gave him a great big grin, “You can put your shoes under my bed any time you want to, any time at all. Now, enough of that, have your guy here at ten in the morning, we got a lot of work to do.”
When he left it was still early, he phoned Arnie and Tommy, both retired SEALS, tough guys who could think, got hold of Chuckie, a little twerp of a guy but the best hacker the City cops had never arrested, they knew what he did but couldn’t figure out how he did it, Paladin didn’t care how he did it, he got it done. He hired him as soon as he went private. Told them all to meet him at his office, noon, he had jobs for them, maybe some big money to be made, bonuses if they got the job done.
His cell phone rang, “Paladin, it’s me Gretchen, can you meet me, maybe thirty minutes back at your suite, I’ve got something to tell you.”
He had something to tell her, too, he wanted to warn her to be gone tomorrow night, not be anywhere near Dancer. Wouldn’t tell her why but she seemed like a sweet kid, wouldn’t pay to be near Dandy when it hit him, what had happened. He told her, ok.
Hooked a Uey and headed for the Gladstone, was already in his suite when she knocked, she was out of breath when he opened the door, “Good morning beautiful.”
“Morning LJ, I’ve only got a few minutes but I thought you needed to know, Dandy’s got the manager of South Seas coming in tonight. South Seas was one of his clubs. She’s gonna catch hell, Heidi’s a pretty good person, she’s his manager, but revenues at South Seas are off a little, Dandy said they had to meet, she needed a little inspiration. After, Tony’s gonna take him to the Copa; the Copacabana, another of his clubs, meet up with Joe and Angelo, little party ‘cause he’s got something big going down tomorrow night; thought you’d want to know.”
“Gretchen, I appreciate this, it is good to know. Now I want you to do something for me, tomorrow night, leave early, get out of the office. Might be a good time, take the subway back to Brooklyn, straight from that office, leave Cherry Delight there, head home and stay a few days, put a spare pair of panties in your purse, I don’t know, but don’t even go to your apartment, just go. Dancer’s gonna blow up tomorrow night, I don’t want you anywhere around when that happens.”
Her eyes widened at LJ’s warning, she looked so damned vulnerable, looked like a freckle faced twenty-four old kid, she was wearing a cute print dress and strappy white sandals, looked just like the girl next door if you were damned lucky where you lived.
He couldn’t resist, her lips, so close, so inviting, he kissed her and she responded, trading tongues, teeth clashing, bruised lips. She pulled away, just to say, “Maybe I don’t have to leave right away.”
He took her hand, led her to his bedroom, screw it, he’d take his chances. He helped her pull her dress over her head, she was braless, firm breasts, freckled, white skin, tan areolas, rose nipples, he bent and kissed them. Then sat her on the bed, unbuckled her sandals, took them off. Stepped back, stripped, she wanted to help. Told her, no just wait, last night she was for him, today he wanted to be for her.
He lay her on the bed, she was wearing only her panties, white, virginal French cut, lacy trim, he liked them better than the thong, sexier. Like opening a present, a strawberry blonde neatly trimmed present. He wished they both had more time, kissing, romancing, maybe another time. He fell on her, lifted her legs over his shoulders and split her with his tongue. She was nice, still the pink of a young woman, light citrus acid tang, he nibbled at her labia, tugging gently on her lips, licking her vulva, dipping his tongue, her vagina, pumping a little, down, he curled her up a little, lifted her hips licked her perineum, circled her ring with his tongue, a little rim job then pressed the tip of his tongue into her, tasted her earthiness, then licked her again. Gretchen shuddered he moved back up, snaking along her moist vulva, her clit, her precious pearl, he took her between his lips, nursed on her, gently tugging as he sucked, her tip, his tongue, laving it, flicking it, teasing it, batting her little gem, Gretchen didn’t give much advance warning, no trembling one tremor, her body shook and she came in a rush.
“Damn LJ, God damn, God damn,” her pussy in full flood, squirting, washing his face, wetting her thighs, juices being forced from her, fragrant, the delicate flavor of a young woman, LJ licked, enjoying her as she enjoyed his tongue.
“Damn LJ, that was good, oh my, that was good.”
He got up, ready to mount her.
“Give me a minute, Gretchen’s gotta tinkle.”
He heard her splash he heard her flush, then a pause, half a minute then the water, rinsing her fingers then back.
She crawled onto the bed, took a pillow pulled it to her face, chest and head on the bed she pulled her knees under, rose, back arched like a cat in heat, bottom up.
“You want me this way don’t you LJ, I like it, too, not the way Dandy does it but I like it, I’m ready.”
He moved behind her, kneaded her firm cheeks, spread her, could see she was ready, could see the lube, he moved to her, guided himself to her tight opening and pressed in, she yielded easily and he was in, just a short little gasp from Gretchen.
“Unnnn,” then she settled back on him, taking him in, all the way in.
LJ stroked her slowly, long slow strokes but he was building, Gretchen was a girl who wanted it and seemed to be able to take it. He sped up, harder deeper, probing her insides, he shifted his body, feet outside her , knees gripping her hips, he lifted, mounted her and thrust, hard, rapid powerful, ramming her, reaming her, fucking her tight little ass, manically going at her like an animal, way up in her fast and hard and deep.
Gretchen began to moan, each powerful thrust, “Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo,” Balancing on one arm and her shoulder Gretchen reached back, helping herself, fingers dancing over her clit, LJ pounding her from behind, she got there before he did but not by much, her first contraction, squeezing him, he shot, pulled her cute ass hard against him, held her there, pumping pulse after pulse, cum in her ass, hot ropy cum, deep in her bowels, tight, young, he fell forward, over her hips, across her back, she lowered herself to the mattress carrying him down with her, still in her, growing soft.
Gretchen was back in the bathroom, LJ checked his Tag Heuer, shit, he didn’t even have time to shower before his meeting. Gretchen came out; she’d dressed and brushed her hair.
“Can I drop you; I gotta go, got a meeting?”
“Sure, drop me maybe a block away, I’ll walk the rest, by the way here’s a present,” she said as she handed him a key, “The office, thought you might wanta check it out sometime.”
He pulled to the curb, leaned over, gave her a quick peck, “Remember what I told you about tomorrow, get back to Brooklyn, be Gretchen Ziolkowski again, ok Cutie?”
“Hey LJ, case you need to know, Dandy’s safe’s in that room, hidden door in the paneling, right behind his chair.”
She blew him a kiss as he sped away,
Arnie and Tommy were already waiting when he got back. His secretary, Loretta Davies was at her desk in the small reception area. As he passed through he asked her to entertain Chuckie when he got in, a cup of coffee, a Yahoo, something, when he was finished with Arnie and Tommy he’d let her know.
“Ok, guys, you got a busy night coming up. Two guys, at Dancer’s Copa club, I want them gone when Dancer gets there, they’ll be there waiting for him, two of his bodyguards, don’t you need to exterminate them if you don’t have to but I want them to know it’s not safe to work for Dancer. There’s a big guy, Angelo, he’ll be carrying, he’s muscle it’s the other one, little guy name of Joe, he’ll have a Glock and a knife, suppose to be good with both, watch out for him. Dump them somewhere then get back to Dancer’s office, there’s a hidden door in the paneling behind his desk, safes in that room. I need you to crack it, burn it, clean it out, everything. Whatever you get, you two can split, a little bonus, ok,” He gave Arnie the key.
As Arnie and Tommy left, Chuckie was waiting in the reception area, “Come on in Chuckie, got something for you.”
Behind the closed office door LJ explained what needed to be done.
“Can you do it Chuckie?”
“Piece of cake, LJ.”
He phoned Helen, told her who Chuckie was, asked if it was ok to send him over.
She wanted him there; they could both work in opening the accounts where the money would pass through.
Chuckie got directions, took off, he and Helen had a lot to accomplish before tomorrow night.
He gave a call to the Goldfarb’s number, wanted to talk to Mary Loo, check up on things, Marilyn answered, he asked how things were working out with Mary.
“LJ, she’s silent as a mouse, moves around like a cat, I sometimes forget she’s here. So, when are you going to come back for a visit?” Coy voice, an invitation, he understood.
“When this is over, maybe I’ll stop by, see how everything worked out but right now you’re a client and Mary’s working with you.”
Mary got on the line, said pretty much the same thing, it was quiet, she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.
Everything was in motion, LJ didn’t have anything more to do ‘til after, he thought, Dancer would be dangerous, they’d probably run Joe and Angelo off but that still left Tony, maybe the most dangerous of the three. He was intelligent, college degree and all and he wouldn’t hesitate to use his Glock.
Maybe they’d get all Dancer’s money, maybe not, either way he’d still be dangerous.
While he was engrossed in thought Loretta came in.
“You busy this afternoon LJ?”
“Nope, everyone else is working, I’m just waiting, you got something in mind.”
“Feel like lunch, take a couple of hours?”
“Love to Loretta, where’d you want to go?”
“I thought maybe the Gladstone Hotel would be nice.”
LJ had known Loretta eight maybe ten years, she’d been a Detective when he got his gold shield. She’d put in thirty years, retired when she was fifty, she’d been with him the last two years. She was more than just his secretary, she was an operative, when a middle aged woman was needed, surveillance, cover, wherever she fit, LJ used her. No one would have taken Loretta for an investigator, average height, maybe five six, five seven, probably weighted one thirty, decent body for a gal of fifty-two, sandy hair cut short with just a bit of gray, glasses and she dressed modestly, older woman’s style. She did have a .38 Chief’s Special in her purse, same revolver she carried when she was on the cops.
Anyhow, back then he’d flirted with Loretta, messin’, she called his bluff, took him up on it. They’d been fuck buddies ever since, she needed some, LJ always obliged, he’d even call on her once in a while. She was asking today.
“Yeah it would, the Gladstone would be nice. Want me to call, maybe some lobster salad, a little wine?”
“You really know how to treat a lady, don’t you LJ.”
Up in his suite LJ called down, let room service know to bring up the lobster and the wine.
Young guy from room service brought it up, set it up on the small table in the room, poured the wine, took his tip and left.
“Join me, beautiful,” he said as he pulled a chair for her, he spread her napkin on her lap and sat across from her.
They were friends first of all, they chatted amicably, nothing in particular.
Loretta finally opined, “Got something pretty big going on, it feels like.”
“Yeah, it is, could be a lot of money made if we pull this off. I don’t have anything for you on this one, Blade’s doing some body guard duty and Arnie and Tommy are gonna reduce the competition. You’re in, too, you’re part of the team.”
She gave him a smile, “Ok LJ, I’ll just back you up or maybe back up to you.”
He had to chuckle, “I like the sound of that back up to me.”
“Finish your wine, I can’t wait.”
“Bed, chair or table,” he asked.
Looking over at the big overstuffed couch, she answered, “The sofa looks nice, could you get me a pillow?”
LJ got a pillow from the bedroom and laid it on the sofa, then took Loretta into his arms, “Been a long time, to long, we need to get out to lunch more often.”
“My New Year’s resolution, we need to get out at once a month.”
He began to unbutton her blouse, LJ liked to undress Loretta, there were no pretences, her bobs were her boobs, her mound was unshaven, untrimmed, light brown tinged with a little gray. Loretta was a mature woman, fifty-two, LJ was her love life. He unfastened her brassiere, she was still pretty firm for a woman her age, nice set of 36C cups, just a little sag, a network of blue veins, medium sized areolas, light brown, pink nipples, he kissed them then unfastened her skirt.
He’d know in a second if Loretta had planned on lunch or if it was spur of the moment, he lowered her skirt, she stepped out of it.
Planned, she’d planned their tryst; Loretta still wore a garter belt, black today. If she planned it was under her panties, easier, if unplanned, panties first then garter belt. She knew LJ liked to see her framed in her garter belt; if LJ liked it; LJ got it as far as Loretta was concerned.
LJ knelt, unfastened her shoes and took them from her feet. Her panties were full cut, white cotton, underwear fitting a fifty-two year old woman; he rolled them over her hips, down her legs and lifted her feet out of them. He pulled her to him, face in her muff, gave her a nuzzle there and a quick darting tongue between her labia, mature woman, leaking a little in anticipation, he was hard, too, he truly enjoyed sex with Loretta, for over ten years they’d made time for each other. And now it was time.
Loretta liked it from behind, hard and fast. LJ’d done her bottom a couple of times over the years but she wasn’t really a fan, she liked him behind but filling her vagina. He walked with her to the arm of the sofa, pulled her pillow over for her, bent her over the arm. He did pause then; he liked how nicely she was framed, black garter belt, white skin, the back of her slit. He moved to her, spread her lips and slid in.
She wasn’t young, she wasn’t tight, more like a favored bedroom slipper, comfortable, accommodating, hot and wet to be sure, he really enjoyed his times with her. Loretta and LJ, sport fuckin’, cock for her, cunt for him, cum for both of them and nothing more expected. He started to pump her.
She liked it hard, driving powerful thrusts, him riding her high, some of his weight on her, on her hips and ass, his fat cock filling her, she got it, LJ knew how she liked it.
And he was, high on her, stroking down, fast, hard, powering into her, “Oh yeah, oh, yeah LJ, like that, give it to Mamma, just like that.”
God it felt good, LJ thought, none of the pressures of sex with a married woman like Marilyn, none of the risk with a gal like Gretchen and none of the drama Mary Loo brought with her, just a great old fashioned fuck. He grabbed her around the waist, both hands and pumped all the harder.
Loretta never explosively climaxed, she’d have shiver then four or five small ones, washing through her like waves on a beach. She was starting to shiver, LJ sped up, he wanted to get there with her.
Bam, bam, bam, like the piston in a single cylinder engine, he hammered her, he was swelling, her first wave his first blast, Loretta moaning her pleasure, LJ roaring his, he filled her, she took it, little wave after little wave, she relaxed, he stroked out and softened.
Pulling out he stepped back, one more look at her cute frame, he helped her back to her feet.
“Oh man, I needed that LJ.”
“Me too Mamma, me, too.”
“Why, you not getting any.”
“Yeah, I’m getting plenty, it’s just not as much fun as I have with you, you’re my gal.”
“I’m your fuck buddy, I know what I am, now get me a beer, bottle, then we need to get back to the office.”
They both dressed then he got two bottles of Stella Artois from the fridge.
The sat back at the table, LJ had an idea. Dancer would still be dangerous, even if they got all his cash he’d still have the cash flow from his clubs, even it they ran Joe and Angelo he’d still have Tony. LJ thought they would need a more permanent solution.
“Loretta, I said I didn’t have anything for you on this job, I think I was wrong.”
I want you to dig up the e-mail addresses for all six of Dancer’s clubs and I want you to find a way to get a message to Paco Hernandez. Set up a collapsible e-mail address, g-mail, hotmail, one of those, we’re only gonna use it for seven e-mails, to the managers of the clubs and to Paco.
The managers say, “Dancer’s broke and the Mexicans are after him, run.” And to Paco I want you to send “I’ve got the money and I’ve got the drugs, stupid; but in Spanish, here I’ll write it down.”
“Tengo el dinero y tengo las drogas, pendejo.”
Together, they drove back to the office; now LJ truly had nothing to do. He wished he could warn Heidi, the manager that Dancer was seeing this evening but there was no way without putting Dandy on alert; so she’d get it, maybe for the last time though.
Sol Goldfarb was at his office, meeting with his managers. He had no idea how things would play out but he was first and foremost a businessman and he’d made a tough decision. He assigned his managers a most unwelcome task. They had to cut payroll, who would be laid off, who would stay. Half of his workforce by the end of the day; gone. No severance pay, nothing, there was no money for it; just their state unemployment compensation and the promise that they’d be recalled when the market improved.
Marilyn was in a bitchy mood, home, just the ever silent Mary Loo for company, she wanted to get out, go to the club, talk to someone, anything to break the monotony. She looked at Mary, recognition dawned.
“I know you, at least I’ve seen you before, at the club a couple of years ago; Willow Hills Country Club, you were there weren’t you. You were with that psycho that was stalking Frederick’s daughter, I remember you.”
With a questioning expression and a quizzical turn of her head, Mary said, “Willow Hills? I don’t recall.”
“It was you, I know it was you,” Marilyn insisted.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mrs. Goldfarb.”
She wasn’t of course, Mary had been there and she had been with the psycho. Her job was to divert him from Frederick’s daughter, she had; perhaps too successfully; he’d come after her.
He was a big guy, strong; he’d gotten a hold of Mary, she couldn’t use her unarmed combat skills but she wasn’t unarmed; her knife, her little Randall made blade. Afterwards she’d called LJ, he sent Arnie and Tommy. Frederick’s daughter’s problem was a moldering corpse or maybe just bones out in a New Jersey swamp.
Tony was in Dancer’s office, “Everything’s set Dandy, nothing to he nervous about, the money comes in tomorrow, we let Paco know where to pick up the meth, not a thing to worry about,” Tony told him.
Dandy was pacing, he stopped at the window, eighty-two floors up, looking out over the City, he loved it here, his City, six clubs, millions in the islands, but, still he was nervous, tense.
“Ok, Tony, go on; send Cherry in here.”
She came in and closed the door, “Yes Mr. Dancer?”
“You called Heidi, right?”
“Yes sir, she’ll be here at six-thirty, like you said.”
“Ok then, how about a little relief,” as he scooted back from his desk.
As she unzipped his slacks she thought, the last time, God I hope this is the last time, she pulled out his cock and went down on him.
When Heidi came in Cherry was at her desk, still in her summer weight dress, print, lively print, bright, happy fabric.
Heidi didn’t feel happy, she knew that her revenue was down a little; her club was in a working man’s neighborhood, lay-offs had hit her clientele, no money, no play. Her girls were making less, her club was making less. Dancer knew the problem; it wouldn’t matter.
Cherry told her, “Go on in Heidi, he’s waiting.”
For all the world like a condemned woman walking to the gallows, Heidi went in and shut the door behind her.
When the door shut, Cherry picked up her purse, “See you tomorrow Tony,” she said as she headed for the door.
“ ‘Night Cherry.”
It wasn’t quite as congenial in Dancer’s office, “Have a seat Heidi, tell me why we’re not making the money we should; someone in the till, someone stealing from me, what’s the problem.”
“Dandy, you know what the problem is, business is off, my trades more neighborhood, guys are laid off, they aren’t coming in or if they do they have a beer or two and just look, won’t pop for expensive mixed drinks, none of that white grape juice we sell as champagne for the girls, you know what the trouble is.”
“Well just maybe I can help you figure out a solution, come with me,” as he stood and opened the hidden door in the paneling.
Heidi followed him in, shut the door, she had no illusions, she’d been here before.
Dancer was undressing, hanging his suit, out of his silk boxers, he watched as Heidi undressed.
Heidi attractive in a coarse way, like all of his managers, she’d been a dancer, big augmented tits, ass still nice, long chestnut hair, she still kept herself shaved. At thirty-seven she was too old to dance, still she was one of his youngest managers, she’d probably have been gone but she had an accident prone Downs Syndrome son, she stayed, she didn’t want a life threatening “accident” to happen.
Naked she knew what he expected; she climbed on the bed, hands and knees, bottom toward him. She dropped her head and waited.
Dancer had his riding crop; he slashed her, low, just above her exposed pussy lips.
Heidi screamed, didn’t beg for mercy she knew that was useless, but she screamed, it burned like fire.
“Fix the fucking problem, Heidi, fix the fucking problem,” he swung again.
Sharp popping sound, he hit her the same place, low like before, Heidi screamed again.
He’s going to cut me, he’s going to cut me there, low, she wouldn’t be able to sit, face down on her bed tomorrow, that’s where she’d have to be. He hit her again.
A flurry of blows, the crack and pop of the leather on flesh, the same place five, ten, Heidi lost count, her head was on the mattress, she was sobbing, he hit her again.
Through the burn, the pain, the agony, she felt her skin split, the blood flow down the insides of her thighs.
Relief, hardly, he’d cut her like he wanted to, now the blows rained down indiscriminately, her thighs, higher on her bottom, her back.
Dancer was screaming maniacally, “Fix the fucking problem Heidi, the God damned problem fix it,” as he whipped her.
God, he thought, if he got any harder he’d pop his skin, his erection, like a steel rod, the head an angry purple, he dropped the crop.
Heidi felt the mattress depress as he climbed up behind her, God she knew what was coming was almost worse that the beating. His cock was against her and with a mighty thrust it was in her, up her ass, she didn’t prepare like Cherry did, no lube unless her blood counted, he ripped her when he plunged in, more blood, oozing from her torn anus; he fucked her like a wild man, slapping the sides of her breasts, slapping her cheeks, he tore at her, stabbing her, using his cock as a weapon, inflicting more pain. She was near collapse when he finally came, his cum, nasty and vile, in her.
Finished, Dancer pulled out, and with a laugh, he slapped her bottom, “Great piece of ass Heidi, great piece of ass; now fix the fucking problem, you got two weeks or I’ll need to have another private meeting, capice?”
She nodded in acknowledgement, she had to, if she ignored him he’d hit her again.
“Now get outta here bitch, I got things to do.”
She used the sheet to clean herself as best she could and got dressed, her panties hurt, the cuts; but she’d leak blood if she didn’t have them on.
She opened the door, let herself out, she was bent in pain, limping when she passed through the reception area, Tony gave her a sardonic smile.
Dancer showered, got dressed, “Let’s go Tony, bring the Mercedes around, I wanta go to the Copa tonight.”
While Dandy was having his fun, Arnie and Tommy were already at the Copa, wasn’t hard to pick out Angelo, great big guy with protective plastic taped over his nose. Arnie buttonholed one of the girls, gave her a hundred, said there’s another hundred waiting, get the big guy to come out the back door, promise him a blow job, some pussy, whatever, just get him out there. He and Tommy left through the front door then circled around back.
The girl earned her extra hundred, Angelo came out, they were waiting, he saw Tommy, he didn’t see Arnie, an elbow kite to the head, he went down, steel capped toes to the ribs, to the balls, to the head, Arnie held him down, Tommy pulled his arms forward, got to his hands, stomped both ‘til every bone was broken, Arnie pulled his arms back, flex cuffed him, rolled him out of the way. They waited, Joe would miss Angelo, come looking, they’d be there.
Joe asked the girl she’d seen talking to Angelo, she told him Angelo went out the back door, didn’t know why.
He went to investigate, he was a hell of a lot more wary than Angelo, already had his Glock out when he cracked the back door, didn’t see anyone, no Angelo, he heard a moan, stepped out, Arnie was waiting, crushing blow to the wrist, Joe dropped his gun, forearm shiver to the face, Joe went down, Tommy tap danced on him, then broke both hands, flex cuffed him, rolled him over by Angelo.
“Tommy, bring the car around, I’ll get these two ready for a ride.”
Arnie checked them for weapons, he had Joe’s Glock, he took Angelo’s, Joe had his forearm sheath on, took his knife, used it to cut their clothes off, left them with their shoes and underwear.
They put the two of them in the trunk, big Mercedes sedan, there was room, just barely, Angelo took up a lotta space, slam it down, took off for Jersey.
Arnie was driving; Tommy called LJ, “Two down Boss, they won’t be a problem, we’re gonna drop them in the swamps the other side of the river, they’re flex cuffed, wearing nothing but their BVD’s, even if they don’t take off, we haven’t mentioned that to them yet, they’re both sleeping, even if they don’t they won’t be much use, hand’s look like catcher’s mitts, broken up, swelled up, you know?”
“Good work, get rid of them and get back to Dancer’s office quick as you can.”
On the backseat, looks like a repairman’s tool box, a Spectrum 625 X-Treme plasma cutting torch and bottled oxygen, their key to the safe.
Around midnight Arnie gave him a call, “Jersey delivery made, the key worked, we got about twenty grand, some nice gold jewelry, few other things, we’re out and gone.”
“I said, whatever you found in there’s yours, split it with Tommy bring the other stuff, paperwork, like that, by my office in the morning.”
Dandy was still pissed, when he got to the Copa Joe and Angelo weren’t there. Angelo he could understand, lined up some pussy, he’d go for the pussy but Joe, never; “Call them again Tony, where the fuck are they?”
“They aren’t answering their cell phones Dandy, I got no idea.”
“Fuck it, let’s have one more, you can drive me home, pick me up in the morning, when they come in I’ll shoot ‘em,” he grinned when he said it.
Tony thought he might be serious.
Next morning Tommy carried the papers up to LJ’s office, Arnie waited in the car, no sense trying to find a parking spot, it was only gonna take a minute or two, he only circled the block once, Tommy was waiting on the curb.
He got in, “LJ said he’d call if he needs us today,” checking traffic, fighting into the stream Arnie accelerated away.
Paladin went over the paperwork, the bank codes, a few other things, nothing he really needed, Helen had the codes, too, he put them through the shredder.
He called the Goldfarb’s, talked a minute or two to Marilyn, told her he thought things would be over in a couple of days, that he was going to have Mary stay, just in case, that he’d come see her when everything was settled. Talked to Mary, told her the same thing, told her if everything came off tonight she’d be a rich woman.
Then he paced, not like Paladin, he was cool under pressure but, like Dandy, tonight was his biggest deal, how often do you get a chance to get your hands on thirty, forty million? And he was hands off, doing none of the work, now it was all on Chuckie and Helen, she’d call if there were any problems.
He was standing at his window, looking out at the city, morning light, casting long shadows, east to west.
Loretta came in, “I’ve got the e-mail account set up and the e-mails composed, all I gotta do is hit send.”
“Soon as I hear, I’ll give you the go.”
“LJ, sit down, damn you’re making me nervous.”
He sat, she walked behind him, massaged his shoulders, he was tense, tight.
“Want a little something to take the edge off, might help?”
“Ya think?” Rhetorical answer.
“I think: I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
Yesterday she’d planned it, not today. She went to the lady’s room, raised her skirt, unfastened her belt from her hosiery, took her panties off, refastened her belt to the stockings and pulled her panties back on.
Back in his office she pulled his chair out, him and chair, making room. She would have cleared his desk but it was empty.
Facing the desk, her back to LJ she hiked her skirt up over her hips. He was standing, taking off his slacks and underwear.
“Unwrap me, a little gift from Mamma.”
She bent over the desk, chest on the gleaming oak, feet on the floor, legs together, waiting.
LJ rolled her panties off, over her hips, down her legs, letting them fall; they pooled around her feet, she kicked them off and opened her legs.
He admired her framing, black garter belt, black hose, white bottom for a moment then ran the head of his cock along her slit, found her opening and pressed in.
With a sigh he said, “Thank you Loretta.”
“LJ you’re here for me, I’m here for you, now give Mamma some lovin’.”
Slow languid stroke, long mellow, relaxing, his tension easing, Loretta easily taking all he had to offer, comfortable, wet and hot, the core of a woman but nice, he massaged her cheeks, her hips, stroking slowly. His mind drifted.
Loretta could have been the woman his grandfather was talking about when he’d imparted his words of wisdom about the ladies.
“LJ, a woman over fifty, find yourself a woman over fifty.”
LJ had been young, chasing the hotties, winning a few losing more, he asked, why would I want an old woman?”
Loretta didn’t seem so old now, some of his favorite sex, him and Loretta, and grandpop’s words came back.
“Perfect woman’s a gal over fifty; She don’t yell, She don’t tell, She don’t swell and She appreciates it all to Hell,” wise words, his Loretta.
He sped up, Loretta wasn’t going to cum, this was for him, he knew that, he sped up, pumped a little faster, a little harder, gripped her hips, cock jerking he came, ropy cum flowing from into her, he pumped ‘til he was drained, pulled out. Pulled her up into his arms, kissed and hugged her,
“Thanks Mamma, I needed that,” he smiled at her, “Now let’s get something to eat, I’m starved.”
She pulled her panties back on, she’d keep him in her, sit in gooey panties the rest of the day, she liked to do that, it was LJ’s goo, “Downstairs, the coffee shops ok with me.”
Sandwiches, chips and cold drinks then back to the office, no duties but he was coordinating, any hitches he needed to know.
Dandy got to his office a little later than usual; Tony had to come way across town to pick him up.
“Anything from those two pricks yet?”
“Boss, they still aren’t answering.”
Cherry was already at her desk when they came in, “Good morning,” Mr. Dancer.
He breezed by, didn’t acknowledge her, he and Tony into his office.
They just killed time, talked a little sports, women, the things guys talk about. Had Cherry bring up sandwiches from the deli, chips, and beers.
“Hey, the cash starts flowing in an hour,” it was four o’clock; the transfer was set for five.
Dandy got up, went through the hidden door, getting the bank codes, he’d check, five ten, if the money was there he’d transfer ten million to the meth cookers, have his five.
“What the fuck, what the fuck, Tony get in here,” he yelled.
Tony rushed in, the door to the safe was hanging open, torched, cut with a cutting torch, it was empty.
“I’ve fucking been robbed, someone’s gonna die, must have been those fucks Joe and Angelo, now we know why they ran, must have been twenty grand cash in there and about a hundred more in gold jewelry. Find those bastards, Tony, find them.”
Tony went back to his desk, where to start, if they didn’t answer their phones they could be anywhere. When Tony came out Cherry picked up her purse, “Ladies Room,” Tony.
He waved her away, other problems on his mind.
Cherry Delight walked straight to the elevator, eighty-two floors lower, Gretchen Ziolkowski walked out the front door, headed for the Brooklyn subway; she was outta there, out forever, going home.
Still distracted by the theft it was four fifty before Dandy remembered why he’d gone to the safe in the first place, the account numbers and the access codes, he needed them to release the money for the buy, the ten million for the meth, he looked again, the safe was empty.
He called Helen, five after four, the transfer had already taken place, in and out, Chuckie was sending it around the world, numbered accounts, Bahamas, Gibraltar, Bermuda, Hong Kong, Panama, Vanuatu, broken up, smaller packages, flying around the globe at the speed on an electronic pulse, in, out again, an impossible trail to follow, gone into the aether.
“Helen, the account numbers, the access codes, you got them?”
Dandy they’re in your safe, I’d never bring them home, what if someone broke in here, got them. No I wouldn’t risk that, you’ve got a duplicate set in your safety deposit box. Check your safe, they’re in there.
“Helen, Helen, Helen, God damn it somebody broke into my safe; I want you in here right now, right God damned now.”
“Dandy, I can’t come, you messed me up too bad, I can’t sit, I can’t drive. I’ll be in in the morning, I just can’t make it tonight, Dandy, you hurt me badly.”
He slammed the phone down; hit the intercom, “Cherry, get in here.”
Tony stuck his head into Dandy’s office, “Dandy she’s not out here, said she was going to the ladies about twenty minutes ago.”
Helen phoned LJ, “We got it, all of it.”
“I’ll be over as soon as I can get there, got any champagne, this calls for a little celebration?”
“I’ll have some by the time you get here.”
He walked to the reception area, with a great big smile, “Loretta, let those e-mails go, now.”
Send and send, seven e-mails away, six to the club managers, the smart ones would heed them: the seventh hit in Cuidad Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico.
Just a couple of phone calls, no dope, no money, Paco Hernandez, one of the deadliest men in the world and he was on the rampage. He ranted; he wanted to kill Dancer, his mother, his children, his dog, with his bare hands.
Then he calmed down, the Hispanic temper gave way to the cold calculation that had sent him to the head of the cartels, he buzzed his assistant, told him who he wanted.
Paco really did want to kill Dancer himself but not at the risk of entering America, if the Yanquis got him he’d get at least twenty years, probably in the Colorado Super-Max, no he wasn’t going to the States, three of his men were.
Two brothers and a cousin, all spoke English, all were blue eyed blondes, Mexicans yes, of German descent, they were going to drive, thirty-six hours, Cuidad Juarez to the City, they couldn’t fly, not with what they were carrying, each was armed with a Heckler & Koch MP5 SD, silenced sub machine guns, thirty round clips, 9mm parabellums.
Paco figured Dancer had run, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to stay around, the three men would pick up his trail in the City, chase him to the ends of the earth if necessary but he was going to die.
Dandy hadn’t run, he’s been ripped off, by who, he’d find out, he was out his five million, had a bunch of pissed off meth cookers to deal with; Christ, they at least still had their product, no, worst of his worries was Paco and he couldn’t get hold of Paco.
Paco’s men had been on the road for an hour and a half, Dancer didn’t know it, he had thirty-four and a half hours to live.
LJ drove over to Helen’s house; she was good for her word, two bottles of Dom Perignon Brut were on ice, chilled. He popped the cork on one, Helen got the flutes, he poured, they toasted their success.
“How much,” LJ asked.
With a chuckle she answered, “I didn’t ask for enough, my measly five million, we grabbed forty seven point three million, LJ, forty-seven point three.”
“Where is it,” he asked.
“Coyly, little smile, “My secret.”
“Pretty lady, you could get spanked.”
She gave him a big grin, “You just want to get your hands on my tush.”
“There is that, that’s true, maybe even more than my hands.”
I looked serious when she said, “You’d do that to me, even Dandy left me alone there, I know about the other women but not me. I’m virgin.”
“Hey Helen, only if you want to, only way we’d do that, ok?”
“Ok LJ now, pour us another glass of the bubbly, I think you’re gonna get a laugh.”
He poured, served her, sat.
“Ok, so where’s the money?”
“That’s what’s funny; how many miles did it travel, eight, nine electronic packages, flying all over the globe, Caribbean, Europe, Africa, Asia, South Sea Islands, thousands and thousands of miles then it all came back together again, forty-seven point three million.”
“Across the street from where it started, in a bank in the Cayman Islands across the street from Dandy’s bank.”
Both of them, snorting with laughter then big belly laughs.
“Helen, you’re something, you’re really something, that’s funny.”
“See there, bright, beautiful, we at least ok, educated, sense of humor, everything you could want in a gal, glad you noticed.”
“I noticed Helen, I certainly noticed,” he reached and touched her face, brushed her cheek, “You really are a beautiful person.”
The touch of his hand, gentle treatment, a man who could be gentle with her, she caught her breath, she’d never been so forward, never once, “LJ would you like some sweet with that wine, it’s hot and it’s waiting.”
Bedroom eyes, wanting, he saw, he nodded yes.
She stood, took his hand and led him to the bedroom, started to undress.
“No, you do me; let me do you, you go first.”
She helped him out of his jacket, folded it and laid it on the chair, lifted his black tee-shirt over his head, looked then nuzzled the hair on his chest. Loosened his belt, unfastened his slack, lowered his zipper, followed then to the floor, they were pooled around his feet. She untied his cap toes, took them off, took one foot then the other out.
Just his boxers left, he was erect, she was having an effect on him, she pulled the elastic way out, freed him took off his underwear.
“Just a taste, but I’ve got to have a taste,” she said as she took him between her lips; on her knees in front of him, she fellated, sucked, teased along his shaft with her tongue, she stood up, it was his turn.
Helen had dressed when LJ told her he was coming over, quick shower, spritz of perfume her neck, between her breasts, between her thighs, she wanted to smell good every place she wanted his lips, his tongue.
Fancy panties, matching brassiere white and lacy and virginal, thigh high stockings, white, an apricot sheath dress, knife slit up the back, her favorite outfit, she felt like a pretty woman when she wore it; not like a stodgy CPA, she was glad she had it on, but she’d never wanted to get out of it so badly.
LJ unzipped her dress down to the waist then lifted it over her shoulders, over her head. He stepped back, all she had on were her undergarments and her shoes, bone colored pumps, two inch heels, pretty conservative but not for Helen, at least they weren’t black, she kicked them off.
She could read the appreciation in his eyes, he was looking at her, Helen Metz, and he liked what he saw.
He unfastened her bra, unfettered her breasts and admired them, still firm at thirty-seven, not large, nice, 36C cups, fair skin, unmarked by the whip, he touched them, swollen, nipples tender but smooth, soft smooth, her skin. He bent and kissed each of them, first one then the other.
But he needed to see, he turned her, inspecting her back, the festering cuts were healing, the peroxide had worked, her stripping was fading, the purple to a dull red, the red to a pinkish hue.
“It looks a lot better Helen, a lot better.”
Holding her from behind, one hand on her abdomen the other on her breast, he kissed her wounds, “My poor baby, my poor abused lady, let me try to make them better.”
He knelt and turned her around, cute camel toe, white on white lace panties, white thigh highs, just sexy as all get out, he rolled her panties down, nuzzled her wild chestnut curls, stood and let her lead him to the bed.
She lay down, her hand still holding his, pulled him down beside her.
LJ held her, just for a moment, letting her feel his strength then he kissed her, passionately he kissed her, she returned the kiss, tongues, teeth, crushed lips dueling tongues, her ears, nibbling the lobes, she to him, tugging, down her neck, her perfume heady, alluring and her breasts, the same sweet fragrance, swollen breasts, tender nipples, he took a nipple into his mouth, teased it with his tongue, he kneaded her other breast, circling the nipple with the tip of a finger, over Montgomery glands, the little bumps on the areola, then traded, each got equal attention, he moved down, her body was tight, trim, her belly was concave, no bulge, no fat, a woman who obviously took care of herself, diet, exercise, thirty-seven, she had the hard body of a twenty-five year old.
Her belly button was an innie, just to tease he tongued her there, tickling her then down, he over her chestnut mons, her little pleasure pearl protruded slightly from between her lips, he’d be back but now it was time to inflame his senses, her scent, her taste, he opened her, fingers prying her apart, reddish, shiny with her leaking juice, her vulva, from her vagina back like a tiny river, he tasted her, she was exquisite, hot and succulent, he dipped his tongue into her vagina, swirled it around, more of Helen, then down, over her perineum, to her rosebud, tight, pink, virginal, just a lick, rimming her then back up.
She’d shivered under his tongue, but now northward, along her still flowing vulva up, beyond the fountain that was her vagina, up, up, a treasure hunt, her gem, her pearl, he batted it with his tongue, once, twice, thrice then he sucked it in, mouth on her, lips around her stem, tongue teasing her, sensitive, exciting, exciting feelings Helen had never experienced, no beatings, no abuse, a man reveling in the taste of a sensuous woman and Helen began to tremble, tremors, tremors of passion, shook her, her taut, tight tummy rippled, her climax, nothing to compare it to, her climax exploded through her body, shaking, her head whipping side to side, wailing,
“Oh God, oh fucking God,” everything felt like it was pouring out of her, all that was left was ecstasy, she didn’t realize it, she was bouncing, contractions, uterus, anus, vagina, all of her female organs feeling more female than she ever had, she was WOMAN, she was beautiful, she was sexy, God, God, God, slowly she came back to earth, a trip through the stratosphere, a slow blissful descent.
LJ came up beside her, she was still trying to catch her breath, the euphoric feeling, the crashing climax, her first real, real one, every other one paled, junior year of college, once she’d cum, couple of times with her little vibrator she’d gotten herself off.
But now she’d ridden across the heavens, Aphrodite, Venus, Helen, one of the Goddesses, that’s how she felt, Jesus, he’d done that for her, almost an out of body experience, had to be, she couldn’t really stride side by side with the Goddesses, but she had, she’d had to come back to earth, she was a flesh and blood woman, what could she say, what could she do?
“Darlin’ you were spectacular, the most animated woman, the most sensuous, the most sexual woman, special, you’re special to me. Special enough that we’re not gonna stay here, Christ what was I thinking, if Dandy goes after anyone it’ll be you. Get dressed, Oh damned I don’t wanta say that but get dressed, we need to get outta here, we’ll go to my place, he could be here any minute, let’s don’t take the chance, he could still have some guys, maybe I beat them, maybe I lose, I lose you’re in major trouble, grab your clothes, let’s go.”
LJ was hopping around on one foot, getting back into his pants while he talked, he figured he could handle anything Dancer threw at him but there might be collateral damage, Helen, he wasn’t going to risk her; damn she was becoming precious to him; he said something he’d never said to another woman, sure Mary Loo had come, she was different, held a special place in his heart, spooky woman but he had a lot of affection for Mary, she’d come, he hadn’t invited her, not the first time, but she’d come. Tonight, right now, for the very first time,
“Grab some things, we gotta go, back to my place, they won’t find us there.”
She didn’t bother with any other clothes, she put back on what she was wearing, LJ was back in his Armani and they were out the door, tires squalling, fish tailing, the Porsche left Helen’s.
Damned good thing as it turned out, Dandy got a call, only about fifteen minutes before they left; Joe, he told Dandy what had happened to him and Angelo, busted up, hands, Joe’s arm, stripped, flex cuffed, tossed in the swamp. Angelo, big Angelo, not hurt as bad as Joe, yeah, hands busted but Joe had a broken arm on top of that, the heat, the bugs, biting the hell out of them, no water to drink, water all around, swamp water, dying of thirst, Angelo finally drank it, delirious he drank it. He got a little crazy, he just sat down, wouldn’t move, died right there in the swamp. Joe made it to the road, some old couple took pity, stopped, the old man cut the cuffs off with his pocket knife, bull shit story, hijacked by drug dealers, dumped in the swamp. The old guy let him out in front of the hospital, he thanked them, they drove away, he walked away, no hospital, no cops, not now. He called his cousin, lived in Jersey, only twenty or thirty minutes then he called Dandy, anyhow Dandy, I’m gone, they told me get gone, fucked me up bad, me, Joe, gun, knife, unbeatable, them guys, I’m lucky I’m not dead, told me if they see me again, I ain’t gonna be so lucky so Dandy I’m gone, have a good life but Joe’s gone.
Have a good life, huh, you chicken shit cock sucker, I’ll show you a good life: Dandy didn’t know the count down he was on, thought Joe’d pussied out on him, he was Dandy Dancer: and enxhorably, the blonde Latino tide washed North, seventeen hours away, across Missouri, crossing the Mississippi, Eads Bridge, Saint Louis to the East Side; Illinois, I-70, heading to the City.
“Tony, get the car, wasn’t Joe and Angelo got the money, the safe, maybe but the rest, no way, only one could have done that is Helen, let’s go pay her a visit.”
Her car was there he knew he had her, he tried the door, Tony was at his shoulder, Glock out, down at his side, wouldn’t pay for the neighbors to see, the door was unlocked, he opened the latch. An empty house has a certain aura, he knew the house was vacant as soon as he breathed the stale air, she was gone, running, forty-seven point three million, she had her fucking cunt hands on his money and she was gone. He ravaged her house, crystal, china anything and everything breakable, Tony just watched, maybe he needed to do what Joe’d done, get the fuck outta Dodge, no, if Tony was nothing else he was loyal.
“Let’s go Dandy, she ain’t here, let’s get back to the office, maybe regroup, get a couplea new guns, you know, go after her, them, new guns, whatcha you think?”
“Yeah, you’re thinkin’ good, let’s go.”
Through Pennsylvania they came, Pennsylvania turnpike, through tunnels through mountains, out finally on the flat approach, circling Philadelphia, finally the western suburbs, an hour, maybe less, they could start the quest, find him, take him back, Paco really wanted this one, ready to grab him.”
Helen was impressed, LJ’s condo, oak floors waxed to a gleam, minimalist furniture, spacious, modern art, original oils on the wall.
He showed her to his guest room, got her towels, wash cloth, pointed out her bathroom, got her settled in.
“I’d like a drink; may I get you one Helen?”
“Vodka tonic, with a slice of lime would be nice.”
He fixed hers, poured three fingers of Glenfiddich for himself; she met him back in the living room.
“You’ll be safe up here Helen; you need to stay here ‘til this is over.”
With a coy smile she answered, “I don’t think I’ll mind if you don’t.”
Paladin didn’t mind at all, aside from Mary Loo, Helen was the only woman he’d let into his lair; not even Loretta had been here and they’d been buddies for ten years.
He thought, she’s bright, she’s witty and when she got out of her tight assed CPA mode, let her hair down a bit she was one hot lady, already he was fond of her, he’d not mind having her around not one little bit; maybe even longer than it would take to deal with Dancer.
Stupid idea, unheard of, he was LJ Paladin, he lived the Chinese proverb, “Panties are not the best thing on earth but they are next to the best thing on earth.” Could he really live with only one lady’s panties to concern him, maybe even do what she’d suggested, breed, a passel of little Paladins? It wasn’t an unpleasant thought.
She finished her drink, “Take me to bed, not the guest room, your bed, doctor my back for me then apply your tender ministrations to my front; I want to feel you in me.”
He rose and took her hand, leading her.
“Do you have condoms LJ, I’m not protected, haven’t needed to be, I wasn’t thinking the first time.”
Helen had put back on the same clothes when they’d left her place, he helped her out of the dress, unfastened her bra, bent, took her shoes off tugged her panties down. Looked at her, beautiful, thigh high stockings, nothing else then he rolled them off, he wanted pure Helen, nothing between them. He stripped.
She was in his arms, he gazed upon her face, trusting, vulnerable, beautiful, “I have condoms but I’d really rather not use them.”
“LJ, I could get pregnant.”
“I kinda hope so.”
“LJ, is that a proposal?”
“Yes Helen, yes it is, will you Helen Metz have this unworthy rascal?”
She fell backwards, on the bed, pulling him down on top of her, laughing, “Do I get a ring?”
“After tonight as big as you want.”
She was ready, aroused, he was stiff with desire, “Make love to me LJ, now, make love to me.”
She scooted further onto the bed, pulled his along, then spread her legs.
He moved up on her, she was wet, anxious, he found her precious portal, thrust in, filling her. Steady rhythm, riding her high, brushing her clit with every stroke, eyes open, both of them, her watching him make love to her, him watching her smile.
“You really mean it, LJ, you want to marry me?”
“I really mean it.”
Helen raised her legs, grabbed the backs of her thighs, pulled her knees back toward her chest, letting him go deeper.
“Up in me, LJ, I want you way up in me, up where babies are made, make us a baby LJ.”
“I’m trying Darlin’, I’m really trying.”
Faster, harder, churning, grinding his hips against her as he thrust, her legs up, back, open, wide open, he pounded her, clit inflamed, hot, hot, she climaxed, tremors shaking her, contractions squeezing him, liquid, her fragrant juices flowing, still she held her legs, even in her passion she held her legs, exposing herself, wanting him deep in her.
LJ exploded, he thrust forward, held himself against her, pulse after pulse, his semen, his sperm, flooding her, deep, up where babies are made.
“Stay in me LJ, stay in me ‘til you get soft.” Still she held her thighs.
Plastered against her, LJ stayed, she worked the muscles of her vagina, milking out his last drops. She lowered her legs to the bed,
“Tomorrow, we’ll work on this again tomorrow,” she grinned.
Marilyn and Sol were in their bed, both awake, talking.
“Dear, if we get out of this, the Dancer thing, we still won’t be able to keep the Maybach, we laid off half the staff today, downsizing, trying to get through. The Maybach should bring three hundred maybe three hundred fifty thousand, if I put that in the company, working capital, the comptroller and I sat down today, we both agree we can make it, it’ll be tight, but we’ll make it.”
Marilyn thought, now this is the Sol I married, smart businessman, doing the things he had to do, protecting the company, she was proud of him, it wasn’t over, Mary Loo was still just down the hall, but he had a plan.
“I’ll do my part, Sol, cotton panties and off the rack at Target, when you start making money again I want my Carine Gilson silk panties back though.”
Sol rolled, facing her, massaged her breasts through her gown, “I think I’d like you better with no panties at all.”
Sounded good to her too, she lifted her gown above her hips, “Take them off for me Sol, take them off.”
Sol pulled them from under her, down to her knees, soft silk, he looked at her, mousy brown, gray flecked, the mound of a forty-seven year old woman, he pulled her panties off over her feet, opened her legs and settled between them.
Sol hadn’t given Marilyn oral sex in years, he opened her labia, he inhaled, her forgotten scent remembered, still heady, his woman, why the whores for him, the pool boys for her, she was here, in his bed every night, his treasure.
He tasted her, his Jewish American Princess, sweeter that lekach, traditional dessert of Rosh Hashanah, symbolic of the sweet beginning of a new year, she was his honey cake, and he licked her sweetness.
Back in his eighty second floor Dandy and Tony planned, it was going to be an all nighter, they needed to get some cash and they needed to get some men.
“Tony, tomorrow, first thing, get on the phone, get some guys up here. I’ll hit the clubs when they open, I can get some cash there, we’re gonna find out just who the hell ripped us off, I know they couldn’t a done it without Helen, we gotta find her, I’ll make the bitch talk, my room, my whips, oh yeah, she’ll talk.”
The guys with the guns did come in the next morning. Witnesses said they looked like California surfer dudes, blue eyed blondes but dark complected, all three were nicely dressed, good suits.
They entered Dancer’s reception area; the desks were empty, through to Dandy’s office.
Tony recognized the threat and he was as good as advertised, from his shoulder holster he pulled his Glock, two harsh barks, the first one was down.
Not silenced but suppressed, the sound more like dropping a phone book from four feet up, the H & K MP 5’s opened up, Dandy never got his gun out, Tony was hit at least twenty times, sixty 9 mm rounds turned the two of them into Swiss cheese, so many holes.
The pungent acrid smell of cordite and blood, one of theirs was down but still alive, the cousin.
“Obtener el coche,” one brother said.
He helped his cousin to his feet; rode the eighty-two floors down, his brother had the car at the curb.
The dropped him at the emergency entrance of St. Vincent’s hospital. He wouldn’t talk, they’d tend to his wounds, turn him over to INS, they’d deport him back to Mexico, a few months, and he’d be home. They headed west, out of the City.
Helen heard it first, watching television, “The News at Noon” broke the story, night club owner and suspected drug trafficker Dennis Dancer and his associate, Anthony Grosso, killed in a shoot out at Dancer’s office; more details on the four p.m. report.
“It’s over LJ, someone killed Dandy and Tony this morning,” Helen gushed.
“This calls for a celebration, Helen, get on the horn, book us some reservations at the best resort in the Caymans and plane tickets, first class, there’ll be seven of us.”
Helen had his land line tied up, he used his cell, called the Goldfarb’s, Marilyn had already seen the report, “Thanks LJ, just thanks.”
“You’re welcome Marilyn but don’t forget my check, I’ll send you an itemized billing.”
He talked to Mary Loo, told her about the celebration, told her to pack, they were all leaving for the Caymans then he called Arnie and Tommy, finally Chuckie, last Loretta, he’d have to give her up now, he’d talk about that later, now it was time to celebrate.
Helen and Chuckie would set up accounts for all the others there in the Islands, three million apiece, fifteen million, he figured they’d blow the three hundred thou on the party, twenty-seven million for LJ and a rich wife, Helen got her five.