Tease (13 page)

I arrived at the hotel right on time.

Melinda opened the door wearing nothing but a sheer black robe. She smiled at me, taking a sip of her wine. Stepping back, she allowed me to enter. As I walked past her I let my finger snag her robe, swinging it open. Not that it showed anything I couldn’t already see.

“Coop, I swear you look more handsome every day.” She took another sip and watched me as I undressed, her robe slipping down onto the thick gray carpet.

Her gaze lingered on my chest as I unbuttoned and removed my shirt, then it moved to my cock as I removed my pants. Melinda wasn’t one for much foreplay. She preferred to get right into things.

I took her hand and brought her toward me. She wrapped her other hand around my neck, spilling wine down my back in the process. I laughed as the cold liquid ran down my back.

“Here, I’ll fix it,” she said, turning me around.

I laughed as she licked the length of my back.

“All better, see?”

“How much have you had to drink, exactly?” I chuckled, taking the glass from her and setting it on the table next to the bed.

She shrugged and pushed me onto the bed, her hands moving around the crown of my cock. She moved down onto her knees. Without breaking eye contact with me, she closed her mouth over my shaft. I moaned softly, my cock hard as fuck as her lips moved over it.

God that felt good. I groaned as she began to suck my dick, her mouth moving slowly over its length, sucking hard as her tongue massaged my shaft. I closed my eyes and imagined it was Mia taking my dick in her mouth.

I pictured her kneeling in front of me, her hands resting on my thighs, her eyes directly on me as she sucked. I’d stare at her, because there is nothing sexier than watching a woman give you head. I gasped as she took more of me in. My cock hit the back of her throat as she moved her lips along fluently, creating the most incredible pressure between her mouth and my cock. I gasped and gripped the back of her head, trying to resist the urge to push myself further down her throat. My hand grabbed at her hair, clutching a handful of strands and moving her head back and forth faster and faster.

“Mel, I’m
gonna
come,” I gasped as the pressure continued to mount in my cock. I groaned as I released in her mouth, her lips working the tip of my cock, sucking and licking away the remnants. I let out a sigh, incapable of saying much more than that.

She stood up and smiled. “Take a few minutes, Coop. I might take a bath.”

It took another ten minutes before I was able to stand and clean myself up. Melinda was still in the bath, so I slipped on one of the hotel-provided thick white robes and walked over to the sofa.

Switching on the TV, I saw that
Doctor Phil
was on. If anything was going to get me in the mood for round two, it was
him
. Lying down, I stretched out my legs and thought about things. Things soon turned into Mia. Why had I just let her leave like that? Maybe I
should’ve
said something to her, before I lost my chance. Or maybe my chance had already passed.

I reached for my phone, which I had discarded on the coffee table. Without overthinking it, I typed her out a message and pressed Send.
What the fuck have I done?
Glancing down, I re-read the message over and over and over.

I don’t want to be your friend. I want more. I need more.

Standing up, I paced the short space in the living room. What if I had just made a fool of myself? What if I had been reading everything wrong? I threw my phone down on the table like it was diseased. God, I didn’t even
want
to read her response.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop me checking it for a reply every five minutes, and half an hour later when Melinda re-emerged, still no reply.

“Come over here, Coop.”

I followed her back over to the bed, my fingers trailing down the curve of her back. She pushed me onto the bed, her hand curling around my cock.

“You make me so wet. Feel how wet you make me.” She lowered my hand to her pussy.

I slipped my finger inside of her, gently moving it in and out. “Mm,” she sighed.

I took the finger up to my mouth and tasted her. She bit her lip as she watched me.

“You taste so sweet, Mel,” I mumbled, catching her nipple with my lips. I sucked, enjoying the feel of it hardening against my tongue. “Do you like that?”

She nodded, her hand stroking my cock. She pushed me further back onto the bed and climbed on top of me. I put my hands on her hips to help her keep balance as she fumbled with a rubber. Rolling it over my erection, she lowered herself onto me.

God she felt good. She laughed as I dug my nails into her ass cheek, grinding her hips against me, as my dick moved through her tightness. Her palms lay flat on my chest, her fingers pulsating as she pushed herself further down.

“God, Coop!” she cried. A pained look crossed her face as she closed her eyes, about to come.

I
chuckled,
amused at how relaxed she got once she had a few drinks in her. She pressed her body against mine.

“Someone’s worn out,” I smirked, kissing her neck.

I rolled her onto the bed until she lay facing me, staring at me. Only she wasn’t staring. There was no light in her eyes, nothing. My heart pounded as the reality of this began to sink in. I frantically searched for a pulse. Nothing.

Fucking hell. Shit, shit. Fuck.

I’d just fucked a sixty-year-old
married
Oscar-winning actress to death.

“Melinda!” I said, shaking her shoulder frantically.

She didn’t move. Her eyes were open and clouded. I’d never seen a dead body before, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was looking at one now. I ran over to the table where I’d put my phone, nearly tripping over my shoes.

Shaking, I dialed 911.

“Hello? I need an ambulance! I’m at The Stanton Hotel on Fifth, the penthouse suite. I—I think she’s had a heart attack.”

Fuck, how the hell could this be happening?

“Okay sir, what’s your name? We have an ambulance on the way. Is she responsive?”

“Liam, and no. She . . . I think she’s dead. Her eyes are open, and she’s not breathing. She’s so pale and her lips a . . . are turning blue.” I ran my hand through my hair, not sure what to do. I felt like I was frozen. Everything I thought I knew about how to cope in an emergency had jumped out the window.

“Okay, I need you to try and feel for a pulse. The medics are just arriving now. Is the door open?” she asked me. I put my shaking hand on Melinda’s neck, trying to find the pulse.

Still nothing.

“No, the door is locked, and I can’t feel a pulse,” I replied, on the verge of tears. Her skin was still warm to touch. “What do I do?” I yelled, distraught, clutching my head. Fuck, my head was a mess.

“Sir, what I need you to do
is
give her chest compressions. I want you to put me on speaker and sit the phone on the floor. Can you do that?”

Nodding, I set the phone to speaker and put it on the floor beside me. “Now what?”

“Okay. Lay her flat on her back. Loosen any clothing around her neck. Now, I want you to measure two hand lengths from the hollow of her neck to the vicinity of her chest.”

My college first-aid elective was slowly coming back to me. I measured two hand lengths and placed my hands on her chest.

“Okay, now
press
, one, two,
press
, one, two,
press,
one, two. Can you keep doing that until the ambulance arrives?”

“Yes,” I replied, starting the compressions.

“Good. I’ll stay with you on the line. You’re doing great, Liam.
Really great.
The paramedics have arrived, and they will have a key.”

I jumped at the sound of a loud banging on the door. “Okay I think that’s them now.”

“Liam, we’re coming inside.”

Two men walked in carrying a bag and a stretcher. “Thanks, Liam. We’ll take over from here.”

I stepped back, grabbing the towel off the chair and wrapping it around my waist. The worst thing was I felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do but stand there and watch.

They worked on her for close to twenty minutes, one pumping air into her lungs, the other doing the compressions. Finally, the first guy shook his head. They both stood up.

“She’s dead?” I said, in a high-pitched voice.

“I’m sorry. There was nothing you could have done.” He bowed his head, his expression grim.

Fuck. What the hell do I do now?

I clasped my hands behind my head, trying to think. I kept seeing her vacant eyes below me. I’d known Melinda for nearly four years. I considered her a friend, but right now, grieving for her wasn’t even on my radar.

The only thing I could think about right was protecting her name. She was
married
, for fuck’s sake, with grown children and grandchildren. I didn’t want this to be the way people remembered her.

If this got out . . . well, these kinds of stories
forged
forged c
c
areers
for reporters
. The press was going to eat this up.

“What happens now?” I asked, in shock.

“The police are on their way, which is standard in all fatalities,” he
added
explained
. “We’ll wait here with you until they arrive.” His tone was so soft, so apologetic.

Did he even recognize her? Judging by his reaction, I doubted it.

“Are you feeling okay? You look like you might be going into shock.” His brow furrowed in concern. “Stand up for me, and we’ll sit you down on the sofa.”

I nodded, numb. I stood up, catching the towel just before it fell from my waist. He slowly walked me over to the living area, where I slumped down onto the soft cushions, stretching myself out as he placed a blanket over me. I was so cold. I shivered and rubbed my arms, trying to get my blood flowing.

“I’m just going to take your blood pressure, okay?”

Again, I nodded.

“Can you . . . should you cover her up or something?” I asked, freaking out. I gasped, feeling dizzy. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I was sucking air through a straw.

She was just lying there, she looked so exposed, so vulnerable. I hated seeing her like that. God, what would her husband think? Her kids?

“I’m sorry, until the police get here we can’t contaminate the area.”

I nodded. In case I’d killed her. Is that what they were saying? I glanced down at myself. “Can I get dressed? And call
my
someone?” I asked.

He looked surprised. “Don’t get dressed just yet. I want your blood pressure a little higher before you stand again, but you can call
whoever
you need to. I’ll get your phone for you.”

He looked at me, pity in his eyes, as he handed me my cell. I took a deep breath, which did fuck-all to calm my nerves, and dialed.

“Hey, Coop, what’s up?”

“Beth, I’m in a bit of shit. I need your help.” I had no idea what to say.

Hey, can you help me out? I’ve just killed a client.

My head was spinning, and my stomach churned, like I was going to throw up at any second. “Can you come to me? I’m at The Stanton, on Seventh.”

“Coop, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? Are you okay?” Her voice rose, the muffled sounds of traffic evident in the background. “I’m on my way. I was going to a meeting right near there, so I shouldn’t be long.”

“Thanks, see you soon. Oh, I’m in the penthouse,” I added, almost forgetting to tell her what room. Shutting off the phone, I looked up and saw that the paramedic who’d been speaking to me was talking to two police officers and a man in a suit, who I guessed was a detective.

I tried to calm the panic that was rising in my chest. Surely they didn’t send out detectives to every fatality? I glanced around for the other paramedic to find he’d disappeared.

The first paramedic nodded in my direction, and the detective turned to me, while the other two officers walked over to Melinda’s body.

I stiffened as he approached. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was a suspect. Maybe I’d watched too many detective shows, but something about the way he was looking at me made me uncomfortable.

I attempted to swallow, my throat suddenly dry
,
and coarse, like sandpaper.

“What’s your name, son?” He put his hand out.

I tentatively shook it. Son? The guy looked barely thirty. Either he was trying to intimidate me or he thought I looked younger than I was. Or maybe he looked younger than
he
actually was. Fuck, now I was just thinking shit.

“Liam,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound strong. “Liam Cooper.” He sat down in the armchair next to me.
Now I sound like a contestant on
The
-fucking-
Price is
Right
.

“Okay, Liam, why don’t you run through what happened here? Do you know her?” he asked, flipping open his notepad.

I laughed, earning myself a glare. Did I know her? She was naked in bed, and I was wearing only a towel. What, I just happened to wander into her room in my towel, and find her dead?

“Of course I knew her,” I said, unable to keep the attitude out of my voice.

The detective scowled at me. This wasn’t going well.

“Look, I’m an escort. I’ve known Melinda for four years, which is how long she has been one of my clients.”

He looked at me, his eyes widening. “Melinda?” He glanced over his shoulder to the bed, recognition suddenly kicking in. “As in . . . “

“Melinda Diveno,” I finished, nodding.

His eyes grew wide as he processed what I was saying. “Fuck me,” he drawled, followed by a low whistle. “Can anyone vouch for you and
your
. . . career?”

God, the last thing I wanted to do was get my other clients involved, but how else was I going to prove I wasn’t just some lowlife who had broken into her hotel room to rape and murder her?

It was a little far-fetched: a happily married, Oscar-winning actress using the services of an escort? Her family would tear me apart, not to mention her fans.

“My phone,” I said suddenly. “I’ve been seeing her for that long. You’ll find phone calls and texts from her going way back.
And I also have tax records for the past six years.
”

He nodded, slowly. “I’m going to have to take your phone.”

“You, uh, do you need to check any other numbers that are in here? I have some clients . . . their reputations would be ruined if this got out,” I said.

“This investigation will remain confidential, Liam,” he assured me.

I looked up to see Beth walk into the room. Her eyes grew wide, almost bulging from her head as she took in the scene. She was just Beth today, no disguise or cover.

The detective glanced at Beth, then back to me.

“This is another one of your clients, I take it?” he asked dryly.

Beth gawked at me. “What the hell is going on?” she gasped, her mouth dropping open.

The detective straightened up. “Are you one of his clients?” he asked her, not getting the information he was after from me.

She nodded, and extended her hand. “Bethany Masters,” she said, raising an eyebrow. She turned back to me. “Coop, what the fuck is going on?”

The detective glanced from her to me. “Will you be willing to give a statement about your relationship with Mr. Cooper? We need to verify his . . . services.”

“Oh, I can tell you a lot about his services.” She winked playfully.

I cringed.
Not the time, Beth.

The detective actually went red. “That won’t be necessary, Ms. Masters. We just need you to confirm that he is actually an escort.”

“Oh, well I can do that,” she agreed.

He called one of the officers over. “Officer Jackson will take your statement now, if you have time.”

Beth nodded. I watched as the officer led her away, over to the desk on the other side of the room.

After a few more questions, I was allowed to get dressed and leave. The detective handed me his card and told me to call if I remembered anything else.

I’d asked what would happen next. He told me the coroner would do an examination to rule the cause of death, which they expected to be a heart attack.

The fact that they believed me—or at least seemed to—lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I stood up and grabbed my clothes, pulling myself into my pants. Beth wandered back over to me as I was buttoning up my shirt.

“Everything okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah, it’s all good. They said I
can
go.” She glanced back over to the bed, where a group of medical examiners were now going over her body. “What the hell is going on, Coop?”

I grabbed her hand. “Not here,” I said, leading her out of the room. “I will tell you everything, but right now, I need to get the hell out of here.”