Ing of Hearts

Cat froze, recognizing the man's voice before she even saw who was holding the pistol pointed at them. It was the mob boss himself, Arthur Donatelli.

"Cement shoes are so last year, Arthur. You should know that if you've kept up on the latest of styles."

The man blinked at Cat's familiar use of his name. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I have no clue who you are."

"It's better that way, don't you think?" Cat took a couple of steps closer to him waving Erich back with her hand. "I mean it makes it much easier to kill someone if you don't know who they are or who they will leave behind, don't you agree?"

"I've never had much of a problem either way," Arthur said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You took my painting."

"No," Erich said, taking the man's attention off of Cat. "I took the painting, she beat the crap out of your guards."

"She did?" Arthur glanced Cat's way, looking suitably impressed.

"Yes, she did," Erich said. "She also disarmed your alarms in less than five minutes. I think you need a new head of security, Mr. Donatelli. Yours is falling pitifully short here."

When Arthur turned to look back at Cat, she spun on her heel, kicking with her other leg and knocking the gun out of his hand. Spinning one more time, she caught him on the chin, knocking his head back. His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground. Erich grabbed the gun, tucking it into the front of his cat suit.

"Let's get out of here," he said quickly. "Before any more of them show up and want to kill us."

"I told you it would be dangerous," Cat said, taking off at a jog toward the high fence.

"Yeah, throw an I told you so in there. Women, sheesh." He chuckled when he saw her face tighten. "Lighten up, Caitlyn. We're almost home."

"Shut up!" she almost shouted at him. "Are you trying to jinx us and get us killed?"

She cursed again when she heard the sound of dogs barking. "Run!"

The wall was a good eight and a half feet tall, decorative spikes embedded in the top. Cat jumped and grabbed for the top, pulling herself up. She saw Erich doing the same and then they were over, running down the street. The sound of sirens warbled through the air and Erich glanced at Cat.

"Are those for us?" he panted.

"No. Donatelli would never call the cops to report a stolen painting stolen from him. He's just not that cocky."

"You seem to know a lot about him."

"It's my job to know about the marks." She stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear splitting whistle. A cabbie stopped at the corner and they ran to it, sliding into the back seat even as Cat gave the address for Heart Detective Agency. Behind them, the sound of men running and shouting made Cat turn and look. She gave a little wave as the cab pulled away from the corner, leaving the men staring after them. Then she laughed as cop cars began to pull up in front of the huge place and Donatelli's men scurried to hide their weapons.

"He's not going to take this very well," she muttered.

"What? Who won't take it?"

"Arthur Donatelli. He's not going to take this sitting down. He's going to look for payback."

"But he doesn't know who we are, or where we're from."

"Erich, don't be naïve. This is the computer age and this painting is very expensive. The papers are going to get involved and then ... well there's no way we'll be able to keep the company name out of this. Sooner or later, Donatelli will figure this out and then..."

"Then what?"

"Then he'll be looking for his payback."

They were quiet for the rest of the ride to the downtown office where Cat had left her car. She got out and paid for the cab with money she had in her pouch. Then she took a set of keys out and fit one into the door. Opening it, she let Erich in then went and turned off the alarm before relocking the door.

"Come on," she said. "I have to call Joseph." She led the way to the elevator and up to her office, cringing when she saw the blinds were open. Erich hurried over, pulling the blinds and rolling them shut.

"Thank you," she said tiredly. Then she sat down at her desk and picked up the phone.

Joseph answered on the third ring; she could hear low music in the background and the sound of a feminine laugh.

"I hate to interrupt your evening, Joseph, but we have trouble. The family came home early and we were trapped in the house."

"Did Arthur Donatelli see you?" Joseph asked.

"Yes," Caitlyn admitted softly. She was ready, holding the phone away from her ear when the shouting started. "Whoa, Joseph, slow down. It wasn't as if I put myself in his path. He doesn't know who we are or what company we're from. All you need to do is to keep the recovery of the painting out of the news and we should be fine. How often do you think Arthur Donatelli hires private detectives anyways?"

There was more shouting from the other end of the line and she held the phone out, her eyes meeting Erich's. She sighed tiredly, rolling her head against her shoulders to try to ease the twinge of pain that came from the stress that built in her neck.

"Joseph," she said when the shouting calmed. "I'm sorry but you know these things happen." She jumped when she felt Erich's hands on her neck and shoulders then moaned when his thumbs dug into tense muscles.

"I'm fine and so is Mr. Radner, Joseph. He earned his first stripes tonight. It's just a flesh wound so don't throw a fit, Joseph. Just keep it out of the papers. I'll deliver the painting to Amanda in the morning for her to verify." She hung up the phone, not waiting to hear his answer, her entire body melting under the gentle pummeling of Erich's hands. "God that feels so good," she moaned, unaware of the sensual tone of her voice and what it was doing to him.

* * * *

Erich stared down at the beautiful woman whose neck was bent, her head and shoulders almost lying on her desk, inviting his touch. Her eyes were closed, dark shadows showing under the long fringe of her lashes. She looked exhausted and he could feel her muscles, the tightness of them under his hands.

"This would be easier if you were on the couch," he whispered softly against her ear.

Caitlyn glanced up at him, her eyes half closed but still wary. "Only a massage?" she asked slowly.

"If that's all you want, then yes, only a massage."

"It's all we can have between us, Erich," she whispered. She rose, letting him lead her to the extra long sofa that she'd hunted for three years to find. It was where she could stretch out and take a quick power nap when her nights were too long and her days too short.

"Lie on your stomach, Caitlyn." Erich waited until she'd done as he'd asked, then he knelt on the couch over her, his thighs rubbing against the softness of her hips. He could feel her heat through the thin material of the cat suits they both still wore.

Reaching down, he hit the clasp on the pack she wore around her middle, lifting her gently to remove it and the gun that was holstered at her back. He dropped them on the coffee table.

"This would be better if you didn't have this on." He pulled lightly on the neckline of the cat suit.

"Just a massage?" she asked again, this time sounding a bit more wary.

"I promise," he said, crossing his fingers over his chest.

She lifted just enough to find the zipper on her suit and pull it down to its stop. Then she let him help her out of the top of the form fitting suit, struggling with the clingy material. When she was finished, it bunched around her waist leaving her back bare but for the line of her bra bisecting her creamy skin.

It took him less than a minute to gently unfix the sticky adhesive that had kept the microphone of her wire attached, rubbing carefully at the reddened skin.

She gasped when she felt him unclasp that last piece of her modesty, remembering that night so long before when he'd so easily divested her of a similar garment, baring her breasts to the heat of his gaze and the exquisite fire of his touch. Now, his palms slid up her back, pulling aside the two pieces of the clasp, smoothing the straps off of her shoulders and down her arms.

Caitlyn shivered as the pleasure of his touch against her bare skin sent shards of heat deep into her belly. A small voice whispered in her mind, warning her of the danger she was exposing herself to. She moaned as his thumbs dug into knotted muscles, her eyes fluttering close.

She wanted to purr with contentment, arch under his oh so talented hands as they moved from her nape down the tight muscles of her back. His fingers seemed to just know where to dig and when to rub, leaving her almost comatose.

Erich's hands were warm, his palms wide enough to span her waist. He scooted back down her legs as his fingers massaged the small of her back. There was a small comma shaped scar there and his fingers stroked lightly over it.

"Hmm," he said just loud enough for her to hear. "Let me guess, a knife fight over a stolen statue."

"No," she whispered. "I was pushed off the swings by Billy Gobel when I was six. He wanted me to kiss him and I wouldn't do it. He always had dried snot on his nose."

"A fine reason not to kiss a boy," Erich agreed. He stroked his hands down her back further, finding the beginning curve of her ass and rubbing gently. "So who was your first kiss?"

Cat crossed her arms under her face, turning her head to look back at him. "Christina Bryant in the third grade. I was dared to kiss her by the same Billy Gobel. What about you?"

"Myrna Cross, she caught me under the tables in first grade and planted one on me before I could get away. I got teased about it for two weeks." He smiled at the memory then stroked his palms up from her butt, letting his fingers brush the sides of her breasts. His smile widened as he felt her shiver in reaction, her eyes closing dreamily. Leaning over her, he let his lips brush against the nape of her neck, his tongue slipping out to taste her skin.

He had to close his eyes as her taste burst through him, causing his already erect cock to throb in lusty reaction. He heard her gasp and felt the tiny shiver that shook her long body. Erich could hardly hold in the moan that wanted to burst from his lips as need and want fought with a promise that he was hard pressed to keep. His palms tingled and he fought to keep them on her back, wanting nothing more than to slide them under the loosened cups of her bra and cup the firm mounds of her breasts.

Erich knew how they would feel; soft and warm, the nipples distended into hard points. He could even recall their color, a soft pink that contrasted so beautifully with the creamy color of her skin. He knew how each would feel in his palm, how it would taste, the texture of that beautiful nipple when he gently bit into it. He could close his eyes and see her before him as she'd been that night, the night he simply couldn't forget.

"Do you remember how you begged me that night?" he couldn't help but ask her. "Do you remember when I was between your thighs, how you begged for my tongue?"

"Erich..." Her voice was breathless and he knew she was affected as well.

"Just tell me, Caitlyn. Tell me you haven't been able to forget me either." His hands went to her shoulders and he pulled her over onto her back, straddling her hips. "Tell me you haven't forgotten how it felt when I pushed my tongue into your hot pussy and made you come."

"I-I wanted to," she answered him softly. "But I can't." The last word was almost swallowed by his mouth as his lips came down on hers. He kissed her with all the desperation and frustration he'd felt in the past months, trying to deny that he wanted to see her again. His tongue rubbed across hers, danced with hers, and he groaned with relief when he felt her arms come up, her hands sliding across his chest before tangling in the thick hair at the back of his neck.

Fire as fiery red as her hair blazed in his core and his hands were desperate as they touched and stroked, claiming every part of her he could reach, pushing at the suit she wore until it was tangled around her thighs. His fingers toyed with the thin middle strap of the thong she wore before jerking it down, baring her to his hand.

He felt the silky soft skin of her mound, completely denuded of hair, his fingers eagerly searching for that slit at its base. He dipped his middle finger into her and groaned deep in his throat at the heat and wetness he found waiting for him.

"Tell me you want me," he ordered roughly, tearing his mouth from hers. "Tell me you want this as much as I do."

* * * *

Caitlyn stared up into the face of the man she'd fought so hard to forget. It had been impossible. Every second of that night spent in the huge four poster bed in the house he was renovating was impressed in her memory, like an erotic dream she just couldn't stop having.

Now, he was here, making those memories seem like poor cousins to the richness of the sensations pouring through her. She wanted him; her pussy pulsed and ached, on fire to feel him there, his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

But at what cost, what deal with the devil would she have to make to let herself be his one more night? Could she keep it at that? Would she lose her heart to this man who seemed able to make her body blaze with just a single touch?

"No thinking," he said, dropping his forehead down to hers. "Stop, just answer me honestly. Do you want me?"

"Yes," she said instantly. "But..."

"God," he laughed. "I knew there was going to be a but."

Caitlyn slid her palms against his cheeks, feeling the start of a whiskery stubble that tickled her hands. "Erich, we're playing with fire."

"Yes," he said, turning his head to kiss her palm. "And it feels pretty damn good." He rocked his hips against hers, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

"You know what I mean. Neither of us wants attachments right now. I see way too much of the hurt and destruction that relationships can cause."

"So what? Do you plan on being alone your entire life?" He let his hand slide down and over her breast, and she knew he could feel her pulse rate accelerate under his palm. "Can you deny this, the way this feels?"

"No," she hissed as his fingers plucked and played with her nipple. "God, you know I can't. But what if one night isn't enough? What if we do this and then want more?"

"Who says we can only have this one night? I'm not leaving again, Caitlyn. You haven't run me out of King of Hearts yet, I don't think you'll be able to." His head dipped and he replaced his fingers with his lips, drawing her hardened nipple into his mouth. Warmth enveloped her, making her moan with the way his teeth and tongue felt against her sensitive flesh.

Pulses of fire burned into her loins and she rocked her hips, wanting badly to feel him there, between her thighs. She moaned softly, arching her back as his fingers found her other nipple, giving it exquisite attention. "Ahh," she cried, her head rolling against the pillow on the couch. "Screw it. Don't stop, please!" she begged, defeated.

* * * *

Erich heard her words and felt a thrill of pleasure so deep and intense; he had to grit his teeth against it. His lips moved down her body, wanting badly to taste of her the way he had once before. He licked at the firm muscles of her abdomen, hearing her sharp intake of breath. Then he was on the floor, stunned, staring up at her as she rolled with him, her hand reaching for the gun that was on the coffee table.

Caitlyn had it out of its holster and into her hand within seconds, the barrel aimed at the door where Erich could now see the handle turning. The door opened slightly, a hand reaching in and turning on the overhead lights that they'd left off when they'd come into the room. Then the door was pushed open even further and a woman wearing scrubs came into the room.

"Don't move!" Caitlyn ordered the woman, scrambling up from where she was sitting on Erich's chest. She ignored her nudity, seeing the other woman's eyes go wide as she looked from Cat to Erich, her fingers covering her mouth and muffling the tiny screech of surprise she'd given. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I-I-I'm w-with the c-cleaning c-c-crew," the woman stuttered, her face turning as red as her hair.

"No, you're not. I know everyone on the cleaning crew and I've never seen you before." She nudged Erich with her foot, handing him the gun. "Keep it on her," she said while she straightened her clothes.

"N-no, r-really. I have a badge and everything." The woman's skin grew blotchy as she watched Caitlyn dress and then take the gun back from Erich.

"Let me see it." Caitlyn held out her hand, taking the badge with its black and white picture of the girl. Her name was Sarah H. Hereford and the picture, well it was truly horrid. Her hair was carrot orange and fuzzy, sticking out around her rather thin face and too long nose. Her eyes were green, but a muddy green, and too close together. One seemed to twitch spasmodically. Her body wasn't too bad until she turned to the side, then her bench butt was very noticeable, sticking out under the longish scrub shirt.

The badge came from S and B Cleaners, the company that Heart Detective Agency used. It was also a recent issue, if the date on the badge could be counted upon.

"Okay," Caitlyn said, giving the girl back her badge and letting her hand drop to her side. "You can go, I won't need you to do my office tonight."

"T-T-Thank you." Sarah took the badge, clipping it back to her shirt. She gave the couple a small smile, showing off crooked and missing teeth before turning and pushing her cart out of the office. Caitlyn stopped her just before she closed the door.

"From now on, leave the blinds closed in here, okay?"

"Y-yes m-ma'am," Sarah said, making Caitlyn realize that the stutter wasn't because she was afraid, it was a permanent disability.

She closed the door behind her, leaving Cat and Erich alone. The silence was almost deafening, but Cat could see the fire that lay behind his eyes. "We shouldn't do this again," she said, holding her hand up as he advanced upon her.

"Caitlyn, you really don't want me to have to prove to you that we should, do you?"

"No, what I want is for you to go home," she said tiredly. What she really wanted was to go home with him, make love until her eyes couldn't stay open and then sleep in the comfort of his arms where she'd felt so incredibly safe before. But that, well, that was dangerous.

"What about what I want?" he asked suddenly and a bit belligerently. "Why does it have to be what you want? I've thought of nothing but you even when I was planning funerals and searching for nannies. You've been in my head slowly driving me nuts, Caitlyn." He sank down on the couch, letting his head drop in his hands as he leaned forward. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"I don't know, Erich. Why are you here?" She leaned back against her desk, unaware of the picture she made, her lips swollen from his kisses, her cat suit still partially unzipped. Her hair was mussed around her face, the pins falling out. Her eyes were still hazy with passion.

Erich sighed. "I have two reasons for coming here. The first was to find you again. I've missed you, Caitlyn. I'm not the type to have a one night stand. What we had was important to me. If it hadn't been for Alex and Emily's death..." He sighed again, running his hands through his hair. "Which brings me to the second reason. I need your help." He looked up try to judge what she was thinking by the expression on her face. It was blank but her eyes watched him warily.

"You need my help with what?"

"I want you to investigate the accident that took my brother and sister-in-law's lives," he said quickly. "I don't think it was an accident but I can't get the cops to believe me."